#i wish i could put a tiny party hat on her

[aveil-moved]

good morningggg it’s chickadee’s birthday today yayy she’s one whole year old!!!!! 🥹

[changetyre]

Make a wish

SUMMARY: It's Ivy's 2nd Birthday and her birthday wish is a little bigger than you'd expected. Part of Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: None?

A/N: Requested over on wattpad ;)

"Oh no Max the party hats, I forgot to get party hats." Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

"No, I bought some." Max calmed you down. 

Today was Ivy's 2nd birthday and she had been so insistent about celebrating her birthday at a race with her Papa and Uncles despite you telling her she could have a big birthday party at home with her friends. Ivy almost cried when you suggested something else wanting nothing more but to be at the "waces!" for her birthday. 

Despite this, you still wanted her birthday to have somewhat of a little celebration so you'd spent days making and decorating cupcakes to take to the paddock and buying some decorations for Ivy. 

You'd wanted everything to be a surprise so you'd mostly work at night so that the girls didn't see you because you also knew that if Lea saw anything she would definitely say something since she was as good at keeping secrets as her uncle Lando.  

But Max could tell how stressed and tired you'd grown with trying to get everything perfect for her and he was glad it was finally the day so you could relax a little. You'd woken up earlier to get the stuff in the car so that Brad could drive it to the track before you arrived with Max, Ivy, and Lea. 

"Okay, I'll go now." Brad got in the car to drive off. 

"Wait no did I bring down the streamers?" You asked. 

"Yes," Max answered waving Brad away. 

"Wait what about the-" 

"Schatje, everything's there." Max cupped your face to get you to look at him. 

"But what if-" 

"If it's not she won't even notice darling, it'll be perfect because we'll be there." Max kissed you not letting you argue further. He could feel you relax in his arms. 

"I'm sorry, I just want everything to be perfect." You hugged your husband tightly. 

"You'll never reach perfection baby, trust me I've tried" Max kissed your head. "But you're close enough and Ivy's gonna love whatever we do for her." 

 __________

"PAPA WOOK!" Ivy yelled excitedly as she ran out of her room. 

Max turned to see his daughter in a big puffy Belle dress which she had begged him to buy for her birthday. 

"Oh my god is that Belle?" Max gasped dramatically. 

You stood by the door watching the interaction with loving eyes. 

"No Papa is me Iby!" Ivy ran up to her dad who lifted her up and twirled her around. 

"How's my gorgeous birthday girl?" Max kissed her cheeks. 

"Papa I tuwn two." Ivy held up her tiny hand trying to hold up 2 fingers but her third finger kept slipping out of the grasp of her little thumb and pinky finger. 

"Yes, you do and you need to stop growing." Max hugged her closer sighing at the idea of his girls growing up. 

A few seconds later Lea peaked her head around the corner of her room. "Mamma?" She called your name. 

"You ready baby?" You asked your daughter whom you'd also bought a dress for since you wanted to make sure she didn't feel left out. 

She nodded shyly, she'd started growing shy around you and her dad lately whenever she showed you something which you found adorable. 

She walked out wearing her Belle dress too except hers was the blue town dress and you'd helped her put a blue bow on her hair. 

"What a gorgeous princess!" Max also sighed dramatically while holding Ivy who clapped in his arms happily. 

You had breakfast quickly, the girls and you having pancakes as a treat for Ivy's birthday while Max had to eat something else to keep his weight down for getting in the car later. 

You strapped everyone into the car and off you went to the race track. 

________

As soon as you arrived there were cameras everywhere but by now the girls were used to it especially Lea who liked to pose for the cameras despite Max and you telling her to keep her head low. 

"Mama Wando?" Lea pointed down to the McLaren hospitality as you approached the Redbull hospitality. 

"Maybe we'll see him later Ivy he's not here yet." You lied and heard her sigh sadly as she rested her head on your shoulder.

You'd arrived at the track pretty early since Max didn't have to be on the track until around 4 today but as a surprise for Ivy's birthday, You and Max had asked the boys if they could arrive early to surprise Ivy for her birthday knowing she would just want to spend the day with her favorite people. 

You walked into the Redbull hospitality and Brad, Vicky, and other staff members were there ready just like planned. 

"Ivy look!" Max called out to his daughter who lifted her head from your shoulder to look towards her dead. 

"SURPRISE!" They called out as party poppers went off and confetti flew everywhere Ivy's eyes and mouth were wide open as she looked around the decorated room. 

She squealed in your arms squirming for you to put her down and as soon as you did she went running to where there were presents and a huge cake with a small fondant F1 car where Ivy was the driver wearing a tiara. 

"PAPA LOOK!" Ivy called out to her dad pointing at the top of the cake. 

"Wow, Ivy." Max gasped surprised as if he hadn't specifically asked for her cake. 

You looked around to look for Lea just to find her munching away at the snacks that were laid out across the snack table despite eating breakfast not long ago. Just as you turned again you noticed Lando, Dani, Carlos, and Charles at the door, Ivy too distracted looking at her cake with her dad to notice. 

"Come in." You waved the drivers over. Max had previously discussed all of this with Christian and he'd gladly accepted having the drivers over at the hospitality for a few hours for the celebration. 

"MY BABY!" Lando yelled as soon as he was inside. 

Ivy's head snapped immediately in the direction of her favorite person. "WANDOOOO!" She yelped as she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her towards her godfather. 

Lea hearing the commotion turned around and also ran towards her godfather, Daniel scooping her up in her arms happily. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the drivers to pile in and Ivy excitedly greeted everyone although always kept coming back to Lando's arms. 

Although you'd insisted they didn't have to bring anything you weren't surprised to see the gift table had doubled in numbers at all the gifts the drivers had bought only hoping they hadn't spent ridiculous amounts of money on a 2-year-old. 

"Happy Birthday dear Ivy! Happy Birthday to you!" Everyone finished singing as Max held Lea in his arms, you holding Lea in yours as you stood behind the birthday cake. Antoine, Louis, and Joris moved across taking pictures and videos of your family per their own request as you'd told them they didn't need to take any pictures and you'd be happy with simply their presence but they insisted. 

"Make a wish princess." Max lowered Ivy so she could blow at her candles. 

"I wish for a widdle broder!" Ivy yelled out unashamedly blowing out her candles afterwards. 

You and Max looked at each other in shock as everyone around you burst out laughing. "Uh, you're meant to say your wish in your head baby," Max told his daughter not really sure how to proceed. 

"hmm." She shrugged unbothered as she squirmed for Max to put her down. "Wando Cake!" She called out to her godfather who gladly came over to help Ivy start cutting the cake (horribly). 

After everyone got a piece and Lea sat sharing her piece with Lando on his lap you all sat and relaxed for a while, Max by your side as Lea played around with Joris and Charles whom she still had an obsession with. 

Max turned to you blinking hard three times, his little I love you gesture. "So what do you think about Ivy's wish huh?" Max asked you. 

You laughed at the thought. Max laughing with you. "If it's with you I want it all." You told him lovingly. 

"In another year?" Max dragged your chair closer to him so there was barely a gap between the both of you. 

"Sounds good to me." You smiled before Max kissed you lovingly. 

[jokeringcutio]

Art the Clown x Reader (WARNINGS) Halloween smut.

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Drabble. Please read ALL warnings. Pairing: Art the Clown x Reader Rating: Explicit Summary: It is Halloween when you bump into a clown and, embarrassed, apologize. Later that evening, your roommate Meri seems to have invited that very same clown into your house for a bit of fun. But that fun turns quickly into a nightmare.

Warnings: Mention of Murder, Cannibalism, death of a friend, Sexual content, dub-con. Reader is scared of clowns. Implied Virginity/First Time. Mention of Blood. Coulrophobia.

1.

The streetlights cast eerie shadows as you hurried home on Halloween evening, arms laden with bags of candy. It was the right atmosphere for it, you thought. All the shadows seemed longer, and in the dark, the ornaments of the houses seemed to come to life. Pumpkins, fake skeletons… Your heart pounded in your chest, the brisk autumn air chilling you to the bone.

As you turned the corner, you collided with a man dressed as a clown, gasping in shock. His attire immediately sent shivers down your spine; black and white suit divided vertically down the middle, large ruffles at his collar and cuffs. A tiny black hat perched atop a white bald cap, while his face was painted with stark contrasts of black and white makeup. The pointy nose bore a black dot, and his eyes were as dark as the abyss.

"Sorry, I didn't see you," you stammered, feeling your pulse race. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you accidentally walked into someone, he had to be dressed as a clown. And you had an irrational fear of clowns. You could not help but tremble and blush in embarrassment. Come on, you thought to yourself, it’s just a grown-up man wearing a costume. Clowns are supposed to be funny. Don’t be so scared.

Art the Clown stared at you silently, unblinking. It was unnerving, but you thought he took offense to the way you had reacted to his outfit. He probably had spent a lot of time getting dressed up, you thought, when you saw all the makeup he wore. And when people put a lot of effort into their costumes and looks, they want to be complimented. Not for some stranger to freak out and insult all of their hard work.

"I-I have coulrophobia,” you stammered, trying to explain your weird reaction to him. God, this was all so embarrassing. You wished you could just fade away. “I'm scared of clowns."

He tilted his head, a cruel smile forming on his painted lips. Nope, that definitely freaked you out again. You had to force a smile on your own, praying he did not see how much effort it took you to be kind and polite to him.

"Nice costume, though," you whispered while you let your eyes rove over his form shortly, just enough to note once again how oddly this man was dressed. Most clowns you met were colorful. But this one, he was grim. A true horror clown, you realized. He fits the theme of Halloween excellently.

“You’re going to enjoy yourself tonight,” you shyly mumbled, embarrassed by the entire encounter. You couldn’t wait to get away. Clutching the candy closer to your chest, you quickly bid him a good evening before stepping away from him and resuming your hurried pace toward home.

You felt the man’s eyes stare at your back until you rounded the corner.

2.

A few hours had passed and children from all over the neighborhood came trick-or-treating at the door. Their laughter and excited chatter filled the air. You glanced at the clock. Just one more hour before the party started. Meri, your roommate, was already wearing a nice blue dress with a  very short skirt. Deliberately. You knew she wanted to score tonight. Meri was like that, always eager for a nice time with a willing man.

You glanced down at yourself. You hadn’t really had the time to come up with something nice, but you knew that Meri had more than enough dresses in her closet. You’d borrowed some of her before.

“Yeah, you can borrow one of mine again,” you heard Meri say, and when you looked up you caught her looking at you with a grin.

“As if you can read thoughts,” you whispered, earning a chuckle from your friend.

“I can and I am damn good at it,” Meri said. “I have a pretty red one that would fit you well. Show a bit of cleavage,” she winked at you. “Can’t do no harm.” She turned around and beckoned you to follow her to her room. Once inside, she took the dress out of her closet and showed it to you. You chewed your lip worriedly.

“I don’t know,” you said, earnestly concerned about how revealing that dress actually was. Then your eye fell upon a dress you had borrowed from her before. “Can’t I just take the green one?”

Meri rolled her eyes. “God, no. You definitely need some action, babe. This dress will give you that. I guarantee it.” She thrust the dress into your hands and started to push you towards the door. “Go on, get changed.”

You were about to protest when the doorbell rang and you could hear kids shouting "trick or treat!" from beyond the door.

“I’ll get that,” Meri said with a wink. She smiled warmly at you while she made her way to the door. “Now go get changed, princess. I can’t go to the party with you dressed like that.”

You glanced down at yourself to see what she meant by that. Comfy pants, a baggy shirt, wintery socks. All right, you did not look like any of those women in the magazines. She had a point. With a sigh of defeat, you turned around to head to your own room.

But that was when an idea hit you.

Meri was answering the door. You could quickly slip into her room and pick up the green dress. It would only take a second.

Seizing the opportunity, you slipped into her bedroom, rummaging through her closet where you’d seen the dress you wanted to wear. With a bright smile, you found it. But just as your hand landed on the desired green dress, the sound of Meri's voice reached your ears. “Come in, thing. We can have a bit of fun in my room.”

You froze. The sound of footsteps heading your way made your heart leap into your throat. Had she invited someone in? By the sound of it, she was not alone.

Panicking, you dove into her wardrobe, the scent of her perfume enveloping you as you hid among her clothes.

Your breath hitched as Meri entered the room, the wardrobe door cracked open just enough for you to peek out.  “Come on in, sweetheart,” Meri playfully said. You saw her beckon someone who was still on the other side of the threshold. Meri was horny, there was no doubt. You knew she had been so for a while now, hence why she insisted on going to the party tonight. But apparently, someone had come and offered himself willingly at your door. A friend? Someone you knew? Steve again? He would sometimes come around. Or Will?

But when Meri turned around, that excited smile still on her lips, you could finally see the man who wished to follow her into the bedroom. An oversized shoe appeared over the threshold, followed by a suit that was half black and half white.

The evening's events played like a twisted nightmare in your head, the clown’s haunting smile refused to leave your thoughts. It was him though. He was dressed exactly as before: black and white suit, pointy nose, black eyes that held a malicious glint. Fear gripped you, but curiosity kept you from fleeing. Was Meri actually going to have sex with this stranger?

Peeking through the crack in the wardrobe, you saw Meri lead Art the Clown into her bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Quite the costume," Meri purred, running her fingers over his ruffled collar. "I like a man who knows how to stand out."

She didn't seem to care about his silence, only growing bolder in her advances. The stranger sat himself on the edge of her bed and Meri purred again. You wanted to roll your eyes at the show she made. Slowly, she began to undress, exposing more and more of her flawless skin. Meri was beautiful like that. It had often irked you how easily some things came to her, simply because of her looks.

Meri moved her hips alluringly from side to side, unhooking her bra like a stripper before she let it drop to the floor. Her fingers pressed against her breasts, pushing them closer together while she let out a moan. Art's gaze never wavered, locked onto her every movement. Then she shimmied her panties down her hips, slowly stepping out of them.

"Want a taste?" Meri asked, lying back on the bed and spreading her legs. Your breath caught in your throat as Art moved closer, kneeling between her thighs. One bandaged hand was placed on her naked thigh. You could have questioned why the man remained in his costume, but you didn’t. Instead, you felt your breath hitch in your throat at the sight. Sensual, you thought. You felt your own body respond, slick gathering between your folds unbiddenly. And yet, you could not tear your gaze away.

The clown’s tongue darted out. You could see the pink coming from between the black of his lips. A slurping wet noise. "Y-yeah, just like that," Meri moaned, arching her back as he went down on her. Another slurp, another moan, another spark of arousal down your core. You pressed your legs shut, a hand firmly against your lower abdomen. You shouldn’t respond to this. You shouldn’t. "God, you're so good with your mouth," Meri gasped.

The clown gave no reaction. He continued to lick and slurp, his fingers folding Meri’s pussy lips aside so his mouth could easily reach her pearl. He was sipping, slurping, licking, and nipping and you could not tear your eyes away. It was a mesmerizing sight. Meri’s hand found his scalp, pressing him even deeper between her legs. He licked her now. Long, languid licks.

Meri shuddered in ecstasy, but after a few moments of the same, she started to catch her breath again. "Too bad my roommate isn't like this," Meri murmured, but you could hear it. "She's such a wallflower, probably never even had sex. Scared of it, I'd bet." You felt your face flush with shame, wondering if she knew you were hiding there, listening to her words.

“That’s it, baby,” Meri panted, the hand between her legs bobbing up and down faster now. “That’s it, make me cum.” The clown was working his magic apparently, because Meri threw her head back, lost in pleasure.

You bit your lip and clutched the green dress closer against your chest. You didn’t want to watch, knew it was supposed to be a private moment. But curiosity got the better of you, for Meri was right. You weren’t like her. You weren’t-

Suddenly, Meri screamed, her hands started clawing at the sheets. Her eyes turned wide, bulging, the screeching sounds of her screams were painful to your ears. It took you a moment to realize what you saw. The clown’s head kept bobbing up and down between Meri’s legs, but something was wrong now.

Those dreadful black-painted lips no longer glistened with fluids of passion, you realized with a shock. Instead, a darker liquid streamed down the man’s chin, and something large and chunky was caught between his teeth. Your eyes widened in horror as you realized Art was no longer merely pleasuring her.  He was literally devouring her, tearing into her flesh with his teeth. Panic surged through you, but you couldn't look away. Your hands itched for your phone, to call 911, but you had left it in your room.

All you could do was watch. Watch and listen and pray.

3.

Darkness surrounded the place. All you heard was your own heavy breathing, like a drum announcing a war. Your ears hurt, your throat was dry, your body felt numb. A horrible stench reached your nostrils.

It was over, had been so for possibly hours. You could not tell. You had not dared to move in case the clown had not left the house yet. But you had heard the door ages ago. Yet fear had kept you frozen.

An eerie silence filled the room. You stayed hidden in the wardrobe, paralyzed by terror until you were sure the clown must have left. Logic told you that you could not stay here forever. Shaking and weak-kneed, you slipped out of your hiding place.

Moving as silently as possible, you tiptoed through the dimly lit apartment, avoiding the gruesome scene in Meri's room. Whatever was left of her - and it wasn’t much – had dripped all over the bedroom walls and floor. Her bed was drenched in blood. All you wanted was to get your phone and call for help – you couldn't bear to look at whatever was left of your friend.

The door to your bedroom creaked open, and you stepped inside, the scent of lavender from your bedsheets a faint comfort in the midst of chaos. Your eyes darted around the room, searching for your phone. Hadn’t you left it on your nightstand? You felt around in the dark but found nothing. And so, with trembling fingers, you flicked on the light switch.

You looked at the nightstand first, but your phone was nowhere to be seen. Strange, you thought, and with a frown, you turned around. You’d closed the door upon entering, and it still was. But there was something odd about the shape of the shadow you saw that fell on it. Almost as if you had grown larger all of a sudden.

With eyes wide, you very slowly turned back to your nightstand. It was just as you had feared. There he stood, Art the Clown, grinning maliciously as he waved your phone in the air. Fear clawed at your throat, leaving you unable to scream or move. His black eyes bore into you, holding you captive.

"Please," you whispered, voice barely audible, "don't hurt me."

He didn't respond, his silence more chilling than any words could be. In one fluid motion, he lunged forward, overpowering you with ease. He threw you onto the bed, his bony fingers digging into your flesh, betraying his inhuman strength.

"Stop," you choked out, but he continued, undeterred. His fingers ran down your body nimbly as he tore off your clothes. Piece by piece. You heard the fabric rip and tear and had to squeeze your eyes shut. The sound reminded you too much of earlier. Of her. Your friend.

You hardly noticed how swiftly he had you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. Not until a cold puff of air made your nipples peak and you finally looked.

Pitch-black eyes bore into yours and you had to bite back a cry of fear. His face was very close to your own, hovering over yours. From this close, you could see the black paint around his eyes and lips, how there wasn’t a single crack in the white surrounding it. With a shock, you realized his teeth were a rotten color. Black, brown. But they weren’t ordinary teeth. As he grinned at you, you saw that something about his mouth was wrong.

Scary thoughts clouded your mind. Would he tear his teeth into your flesh like he had done with Meri? Would he torture you too? You forced yourself not to think back to any of it. Not to the pleasure you had felt at first, or the fear after, or the helplessness.

You became aware of the sound of fabric rustling and followed his movements with your eyes. His arm moved, his hand was doing something down below. Your eyes came to rest just below his abdomen. You had not thought his suit could open there, but it could. Something large and pale popped out of its confines. Flesh, you thought alarmed. Hard and large. Veins throbbed, purple and black. The head spilled a droplet of something white. Pre-cum.

This was his cock? This monstrously large cock was to fit inside of you?

Your mouth had been dry before, but it became impossible to swallow as you watched the clown position himself between your legs. You wanted to protest, say no, push him away. Your hands were upon his chest without thinking, but he was stronger than you. You stood no chance.

“No, please,” you gasped while he fumbled with his cock at your entrance. He looked down at himself as he tried to position himself and seemed annoyed when he couldn’t find your entrance. You felt the leaky head brush past your folds a few times and panicked. Your heart beat faster and your chest heaved rapidly.

“Please,” you begged again, your hands still pushing against his shoulders – to no avail. Then, you felt it. The head nudged against your entrance, parting your walls ever so slightly. But he had noticed it as well. Art’s sour expression made room for a smile as if he was relieved. His eyes darted up to meet yours again, silently telling you that this was going to be fun.

“It won’t fit,” you pleaded weakly, but your whispered words ended in a silent gasp when Art thrust forth, burying his large cock inside your deep warmth in one go. Too much. Your back arched, pressing your body up against his. Your naked breasts brushed past the coarse fabric of his suit. You didn’t care at this point that his clothes were riddled with spots of blood. Everything was focused on the feel of his shaft deep inside of you, hitting the depth of you mercilessly with a blunt thrust.

You gasped silently - as if the clown had ripped your voice away and had rendered you mute. Blood covered his shaft as he pulled out, making him smile even wider. Was that yours? You were pleading silently for this nightmare to end. But as he thrust inside of you, a shameful warmth began to spread through your body. Despite the terror, you found yourself responding to his touch, your heart racing for reasons other than fear. With your hands you tried to claw at him while his hands circled your hips, getting a good grip on your flesh before he started pounding into you in a steady rhythm.

That awful grin of his never seemed to leave his face. Not while he was treating you like a nice piece of meat, slapping your ass while he thrust inside of you. You could see his wicked teeth - black and brown and yellow - and had to force yourself not to think of what his mouth could do. His hips slapped against yours, hipbones prodding against your softer flesh. He was lean and nimble, but the grip he had on you with his hands was fierce and unyielding, certain to leave bruises.

A low moan threatened to spill from your lips and you rolled your head from side to side. What was he doing to you? The clown’s pointy chin brushed past your clavicle as he dipped his head forward, and then you felt his teeth brush past your skin. Scared that he would take a bite and tear out your flesh, you tried to arch your back away from him, but felt him respond by intensifying his grip and pushing you back down. As a response, you had earned a deep harsh thrust with his hips, feeling the head of his cock batter your cervix cruelly.

With each stroke deep inside, you felt your pussy lubricate the way for him. You felt your body respond to his wicked touch. Each slap against your ass had your walls squeeze down on him hard. Each thrust deep inside your core seemed to hit a delicious spot that made you see stars.

Breathlessly, you allowed him to rut inside of you, unable to stop him and unable to so much as make a sound while he pounded you into oblivion. You were helpless against the pleasure that threatened to consume you. He moved relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

It didn't make sense – how could you enjoy this? Was there something wrong with you?

A few times you tried to close your eyes, but a slap to your cheek had you open them again to gaze up into the black depths of hell. His devilish smile was above you at all times, grinning down, reminding you of the pleasure he derived from your body. And the pleasure he gave you in turn. Sickening as it was, the demonic man above you managed to bring forth feelings that made your body tremble in agonizing pleasure.

When you came, your walls clamped down hard upon his shaft, milking him in a silent plea for more. You bit your lip from crying out. No way you’d show him that you enjoyed this. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure of your moans.

The silence made the wet sounds only seem louder. Wet thrusts of his cock as he slammed it inside of you hard, despite your walls milking him for all you were worth. Noises of sin, of pleasure, of lust. And then, as he finished inside of you, a shudder ran through your body, your climax tearing through you like a wildfire.

You were still biting your lip, aware it must be bleeding by now, but you’d be damned if you so much as would let him hear your passion. You glanced up at him. The wicked clown’s smile had disappeared. In its stead, you now saw a pensive, almost endearing look in his eyes, as he cocked his head and seemed to study you.

A calloused finger tilted your head back, revealing your throat to him while you looked back at him through half-lidded eyes. He tilted his head to the other side again, dick still twitching inside of your tight cunt, and seemed to study the tears in your eyes. You hadn’t noticed they had formed there. Would have wanted to say they were out of fear or sadness, rather than the harsh truth that they were out of pleasure.

With bated breath, you waited for what he was to do next. Would he kill you now, you wondered? The clown moved, his cock slipping from your core limply, leaving behind a trail of dark blood and yellowish cum.

He surprised you by moving forward, leaning on his elbows, as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead in a twisted mockery of tenderness. The contrast between his sadistic actions and this tender gesture only served to confuse you further.

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking that surely this would be it. But the rustle of fabric against the bed indicated that he moved away. You waited and listened, heart beating wildly in your chest. But there was only the sound of another rustle. Plastic?

Curious, you opened your eyes to find Art standing several feet away. Picking up a garbage bag you hadn't noticed before, Art slung it over his shoulder and made his way to the window. Not the door, you noted. But the window. How odd?

He opened it. The sound of the window sent a shiver down your spine as you lay on the bed, watching the clown swing one leg over the edge and step outside. He turned around to face you. His black eyes glinted demonically in the darkness of the night – like little coals of fire. And then his smile returned once more. Seeing it, seeing him like that, made something twist deep inside of you.

And still, no sound could come forth from between your lips. The only thing you noticed was how warm your pussy felt at the sight of him, how your nipples peeked, and how your walls clamped down around his phantom cock, craving the real thing to be returned to you.

With a final, silent laugh, he blew you a kiss before disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in the aftermath of your orgasm, mind racing with a thousand unanswerable questions. ~ Fin ~

AN: Hope you enjoyed it :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

꧁ One Week Later ꧂

Soarynn brings her hands up to her mouth, blowing air onto them in hopes of warming them up. It snowed last night and the children have been itching to explore the fresh blanket of fallen snow since the second they woke up.

The girls giggle while they run around the snow-covered grounds, leaving behind tiny footprints. Soarynn smiles at the sight, doing her best to forget about how terrified she had been a week prior. To forget about the attack.

When they arrived at the Capitol the morning after, they moved silently. No one had been made aware of the conflict that took place in Four and Coriolanus planned on keeping it that way. They exited through the front of the train, heading down a dark maintainence tunnel where a car was waiting for them.

Very few people were told about the attack, such as Quintus Heavensbee and the family doctor who conducted several checks on Soarynn and the children once they were safely inside the President's Mansion. He told her that her nose wasn't broken, only swollen, and that the bruising around her eye would disappear. He also provided some healing salve to speed up the process.

He had offered to test for the possibility of any sexually transmitted diseases but she assured him that nothing had transpired while she was held captive. Part of her wondered if Coriolanus didn't entirely trust her, would he go to such lengths to confirm or deny her claim?

Coriolanus had locked himself away in his study the first day they got back from the trip, goodness knows how much work he would have to do. But he's been acting more...flippant. Asking her how she's doing more often, checking in on her more often, encouraging her to ask the staff for anything she might possibly need. As if she could ever need anything while living with him and his family.

He seems more caring but Soarynn wonders if it's because of the attack or what transpired after. The kiss.

Oh, that kiss has been the bane of her existence. Some of her wishes that she let it go further, that she spent the night in his embrace. But the other half of her is glad she didn't give in to her desires. Even though she really wanted to.

He had come up to her the following day with specific instructions that she could not under any circumstances leave the property with or without the children until he said so. Soarynn had been a bit put off by that order but he explained that no one could see her in this injured state, and he wasn't too keen on letting his children out of his sight at the moment. So, they stayed inside, they could go out onto the grounds so long as they didn't go beyond the fence. It's not like they could with the heightened Peacekeeper presence surrounding the Mansion.

The Snows were on high alert.

Soarynn had asked Eudora if they'd still be throwing the end-of-the-year party and Eudora confirmed that the party was still on as far as she knew. Soarynn hoped it would stay that way, the girls were so excited about it.

"Look Soarynn! I made a snow angel and I'm a Snow!"

Soarynn walks over to Ceraphina who's sitting in the snow, not a care in the world as to how cold it is outside right now. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the girls to wear coats, hats, and gloves before they braved the cold but Soarynn insisted that they wear the gloves. Caspian had already thrown his off, he hated the things and Soarynn had given up on making him wear them about an hour ago.

"What a beautiful angel," Soarynn says, giving Ceraphina a nod of approval. Celeste runs between the two of them, her pink scarf flying behind her like a cape. Celeste had insisted on wearing her favorite pink scarf as well, claiming that it was the "perfect accessory."

"There's Daddy," she points, looking up at the large windows overlooking the grounds.

Soarynn looks up as well, her heart beats a little faster when she spots Coriolanus looking down on them. "Wave to your father Cas," Soarynn says, lifting one of Caspian's little arms. Caspian mumbles something about Lenny who was not allowed to come to play in the snow for fear of him getting dirty and buries his head in her neck. Soarynn chuckles, pressing a kiss to his head, "You'll see Lenny soon when you take your nap."

She looks back up at Coriolanus one more time, offering him a wave this time, and to her surprise, he returns it. Another man joins him after a moment, Quintus Heavensbee from the looks of it and he also waves which is a big hit with the girls who gasp and also start waving. "Daddy can see us!" Celeste says, running up to Soarynn and clinging to her leg.

Soarynn nods, tearing her gaze away from the most conflicting man she's ever met to focus on his darling daughter, "He certainly can," she agrees, "and you look so stylish in your winter coat."

Both girls wore light pink coats today to match their hats while Soarynn dressed Caspian in a dark red coat, very similar to one that his father often wears when addressing the nation outside. Soarynn went with a cream-colored coat today, a brave choice while watching three children but she felt it made her look sophisticated. She'd taken off her gloves to hold Caspian better but she was beginning to regret her decision.

If only Caspian enjoyed the snow more. He liked it for about...two minutes. Then he was tugging at her pant leg, asking to be held which she happily obliged to. "Can we go inside can we have hot chocolate?" Ceraphina's question causes Soarynn's stomach to grumble in agreement, "Yes," she answers, "hot chocolate sounds delightful." It really does and then she could put Caspian down for a nap right after.

She had worried that the attack might've had severe psychological effects on the children but they glazed right over it. After losing their mother, perhaps nothing phased them anymore.

It certainly affected her but she was doing a good job at pretending like it didn't.

And she'd keep acting that way until she forgot how it felt to be thrown around, treated like she was nothing. She knew she wasn't nothing, she was just the nanny.

꧁ ꧂

"Does it hurt when I press down?"

Soarynn looks up at the ceiling while the doctor applies a slight pressure to her nose, it doesn't hurt anymore which is a relief. She had worried that her injury might have led to something more severe like a ruptured sinus or a disfigured nose.

"No, it doesn't," she answers.

The doctor hums, pulling his hand away from her face, "Good, it's almost back to normal. By the end of the week, you'll be good as new." Soarynn forces a polite smile onto her lips, fighting the urge to ask if he can prescribe anything to fix the damage that has been done to her on the inside, not the outside.

"Now, let's check on your eye. You haven't been experiencing any vision problems since I last saw you correct?" Soarynn shakes her head while carding a hand through her hair, "No, my vision hasn't been affected by the bruising."

The doctor pulls a tool out of his bag that shines a bright light on her face, "Keep your eye open," he instructs, "I just want to make sure the cornea is still intact." Soarynn has no idea what any of that means but she does as she's told and holds still, even though she can feel her eye beginning to water from the bright light.

Finally, he pulls away from her face and she lets out a breath of relief, "All is well then?" She asks, watching him pack up his things after scribbling down some notes. She wonders if he gives these reports to Coriolanus. He probably does. Nothing happens under his roof without him knowing about it.

"Yes," he confirms with a smile, "you seem to be right on track to a healthy recovery. Just remember, if your eye begins to bother you, use a hot and cold compress and have President Snow give me a call."

"Thank you doctor."

Soarynn watches the man walk out of her bedroom, leaving the doors slightly ajar and she falls back onto her bed, sighing loudly. She's been so tired lately, she hasn't been sleeping well since they got back home. She wonders if this might be some sort of post-traumatic disorder. Maybe she should've mentioned it to the doctor, or has he already noticed and told Coriolanus?

She certainly hasn't been slacking when it comes to her job as a nanny but she knows herself well enough to know that eventually, this will all catch up to her.

Maybe she can get some sleep now that the doctor's gone. She already put the children to bed. Sleep sounds good. Her eyes slowly drift shut and she focuses on breathing in and out, in, and out, in and… "Soarynn? Coriolanus wants to speak with you dear."

Soarynn rolls over to her stomach and groans into the mattress before pushing herself back up, "I'm coming," she calls back, not wanting Eudora to come in and find her like this, sulking and moping about. She slides off the bed, hoping she doesn't look as miserable as she feels before yanking open the doors, "Did he say what he wanted to talk to me about?"

Eudora shakes her head, waving for Soarynn to follow her, "I imagine it'll have something to do with the attack," she muses, leading them to the back staircase, "he's been working on interrogating all the Rebels who took you and the children hostage. You might need to identify some of the men who escaped."

Soarynn's mind immediately goes to Marvin who managed to slip off the boat and swim away unscathed. His friends couldn't say the same. But did they catch him?

"Soarynn?"

Soarynn blinks several times, pulled from her frequent thoughts of District Four, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Eudora gives her a concerned look from over her shoulder as they make their way down the hallway, "I asked how everything went with the doctor. Did he say anything?"

Soarynn shakes her head, "No, nothing major to report. My nose and eye should be back to normal by the end of the week."

Eudora lets out a sigh of relief, "Well that's good to hear. It'd be a shame if those brutes managed to mark up your pretty face permanently." Soarynn merely hums in reply, both women coming to a stop in front of the ominous doors that lead to Coriolanus Snow's study.

"I'll be in my room should you need anything," Eudora tells her.

Soarynn nods and watches Eudora walk back down the hallway, she's been staying in her honorary bedroom since the attack, swarmed with paperwork and reports to sort through for Coriolanus.

Soarynn gently knocks on the doors, her gut feels like it's been twisted into a knot. "Come in," he calls from the other side.

Soarynn quietly opens the doors, closing them behind her. It's dark in his study, only the fireplace and a few lamps providing him with light as he works.

She slowly approaches his desk, unsure of how to conduct herself with her boss behind closed doors after the last time they were alone together. Coriolanus remains focused on his work, not even sparing her a glance when she sits down. Soarynn absentmindedly drums her fingers against the armrests of the chair, looking up at the ceiling and the carvings that look down on her.

"Your nose looks better."

Soarynn looks back down and across the desk at Coriolanus who sits back in his chair, pen in hand but his attention is now on her, "And your eye," he adds. Soarynn is now hyperaware of her appearance, she had taken off her makeup per the doctor's request and she had planned on trying to sleep right after he left which means she's barefaced once again.

"The doctor said I should be healed up by the end of the week."

"I know," he answers, his blue eyes scanning her face, "he also said that you haven't been getting enough sleep."

Soarynn tenses in her seat, "I never said I wasn't getting enough sleep."

His lips curl up into a smirk and he tilts his head, looking very handsome while doing so, "You don't need to tell him anything. He's a practiced man and he's been staring into your eye for the past few days, he can tell when someone hasn't been getting enough rest. Not to mention it's clear as day to the rest of us."

Soarynn frowns, she's been doing a good job at acting like everything is fine but maybe she hasn't been doing as good as she thought. "I'm fine," she insists, mimicking his relaxed body language, "Eudora said you might ask me about identifying our kidnappers."

Her attempt to switch topics has its intended effect and he drops his smirk and leans forward, adopting the stern persona she's more than used to dealing with by now. "Yes," he shuffles through some papers on his desk, "we apprehended everyone on the beach that wasn't shot on sight but we need you to confirm a few of these Rebels before we proceed."

He slides a file toward her and Soarynn tentatively reaches for it, opening it up to find Marvin's face staring up at her, "This is Marvin," she murmurs, flipping to the next page, finding the face of the man who was shot while trying to jump off looking up at her as well. "And this man was trying to escape," she brings her fingers up to her mouth, remembering how the blood tasted, "I...I saw him get shot. But he's dead now."

She flips through the remainder of the pages but finds no more familiar faces, "Those are the only two I came in contact with," she tells him, placing the file back on the desk, "what will happen to them?"

Coriolanus folds his hands, "I thought about turning them into Avoxes," Soarynn swallows at the casual threat, "but that was too merciful. They'll be executed along with the rest of the Rebels later this week and we'll televise the aftermath to deter any other Districts from trying anything before the year is up."

She sits back in her chair, he says it so casually as if talking about what they'll have for breakfast tomorrow.

"Do you think I should do something else to punish these men?"

Her eyes widen at his question, Soarynn could never conjure up such a punishment, her mind wouldn't allow it. "They said they wanted you to stop the Hunger Games," she recalls, watching his face carefully, "but I guess you won't be doing that."

Coriolanus shakes his head, "I won't be doing that," he confirms, "it's my job to keep the Hunger Games alive."

What a horrible job to have.

"Okay," she says softly, "I trust you to make the right decision."

They both stare at each other for a moment, blue meeting blue-gray. It's like two different oceans crashing against each other. Sometimes, she feels so close to him, other times, she wonders if they're living on the same planet. They've gotten closer but they're still so far away.

Like December and January, so close yet so far.

"How's Petunia doing?"

Soarynn didn't expect him to ask her that, but it gets her mind off of things and she appreciates that, "She's happy to be back in my presence," she says, remembering how excited Petunia had been when Sejanus dropped her off. The girls had been more excited than Soarynn, hugging and kissing Petunia.

Coriolanus hums, "That's good. The stables are done being built."

Soarynn perks up at the good news, "Oh the children will be so excited."

Soarynn had forgotten all about their little agreement to get the children a horse or two to ride and take care of but it’s sure to be a hit. She wonders if each of the children should have their own horse or if just one would be better suited for them at their age. It would certainly teach them to share better.

While Caspian doesn't mind sharing, his sisters certainly do which is rather ironic since they have everything they could possibly need.

Coriolanus studies her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her lips for far too long, "I thought we might discuss what happened on the train," he finally says. Soarynn's breath hitches in her throat, is this when he fires her again? She definitely put her own feelings before the children's. Maybe that kiss was a test and she miserably failed.

"Oh," is all she has to say, her cheeks burning with shame. Coriolanis sighs, running his fingers through his trussed curls. They always look so pristine at breakfast, perfectly styled for another day of work but by the end of the day, they look softer, he looks softer.

"I think we can both agree that emotions were running high," he says and Soarynn nods, there were a lot of emotions on that train, "and we've been dancing around the most pressing topic since we got back," he continues. Soarynn sits up straighter, preparing herself to be fired once again except this time, he has proof. He was there.

His lips on her lips.

"Are you going to fire me?"

Coriolanus looks taken aback at her question, his eyebrows furrowing, "Fire you?"

Soarynn nods, her head hanging in shame, "I crossed a line," she tells him, "the children are the most important thing to me and I let my emotions rule over my decisions."

Coriolanus looks absolutely dumbfounded, so completely and utterly lost. "Soarynn, I'm not going to fire you." She lifts her head, staring into his gorgeous eyes, he truly is a handsome man. "You're not?"

Coriolanus shakes his head and a small smile grows on his lips, "I think the girls might actually kill me if you left again. And I simply wanted to talk about the change in our dynamic." Now Soarynn is the one who looks confused.

"Our dynamic?" She repeats, puzzled by his words. Their dynamic is crystal clear to her. She's the nanny, he's the President of Panem. Simple enough.

"I haven't kissed another woman since Livia," he admits, scratching the back of his neck, "I haven't even looked at another woman since Livia, and yet the second you stepped foot into this house, I haven't been able to entirely focus on my job."

Looks like we're in the same boat, she thinks but she just nods at him to keep going. Coriolanus sighs, "These things can be tricky, I have an insurmountable amount of pressure on me to always be the perfect leader, the perfect boss, the perfect father, but being the perfect partner is something I've always failed at."

"No one is perfect," she tells him softly, "it's impossible to be perfect. Someone will always feel as though you're not doing enough."

That seems to hit him hard as he leans back in his seat, deep in thought. "I enjoyed it," he finally says, looking across at her, "I enjoyed kissing you, holding you. I enjoy being in your presence even though I can tell that you're always on edge around me." He smirks and Soarynn immediately feels flustered and called out.

"Well, well you're the President," she argues, "and my boss. It's natural for me to have a certain degree of nerves. A healthy fear if you will." His smirk drops and Soarynn's heart along with it. Did she say something wrong?

"I've always said that it's better to be feared than loved," he tells her, "when people love you and you love them, they aren't afraid to push back. If people fear you, then they won't risk any pushback. It's the things we love most that destroy us."

Soarynn knows all about that. She loved her father with all her heart and his death absolutely destroyed her. Coriolanus loves his children with all his heart and people took them away from him, used them as leverage against him. But they used her too, which leads her to wonder how he felt about that.

"I don't want you to fear me Soarynn."

Maybe this attack left scars on him too, only on the inside but scars nonetheless. And maybe she'll be allowed to see them someday.

"You want me to love you?"

A pained look crosses his face, a look she's all too familiar with, the look of remembering what once was, what he used to have with another woman that wasn't her. Livia has left scars all over his body.

"I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone outside of my children," he admits, "but, I do think I'm capable of opening up again."

Soarynn can feel her heart beating so fast. It feels so hot in this room all of a sudden. So suffocating.

"Okay," is all she says.

Coriolanus holds out his hand, beckoning her to come over to him, "Come here," he says, calmly and quietly. Soarynn is shaking as she pushes herself from her chair. This is so different from the train. Their dynamic is different. She's dressed differently.

Still, she walks around the desk.

She's never been on this side of his desk but she bets he feels so powerful sitting behind it. He looks powerful now, with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his legs spread as he turns to face her. She places her hand in his and he wraps his fingers around it, gently pulling her towards him until she's standing in between his legs.

Coriolanus takes his other hand and rests it on her bare thigh, causing Soarynn to draw in a shaky breath. She's never done any of this. Will he teach her or will he expected her to know how things are done in the bedroom? They're not even in a bedroom right now. They're in his study like she's some sweet little secret he doesn't want to get out.

His hand slides up further and further under her nightgown and stops when he reaches her inner thigh, inches away from her covered core. He looks up at her with those blue eyes, clouded with lust and desire. He tugs her forward and she gasps, within one swift motion, she's seated in his lap, essentially straddling him.

His lips are crashing against hers within seconds.

Coriolanus slides both hands under her nightgown, grabbing her waist and he groans. Soarynn whimpers when his teeth gently tug at her bottom lip, this is all so new to her, so new and overwhelming. He is overwhelming. All she can smell is roses.

She doesn't know what to do with her hands so she rests them on his broad shoulders, he feels so strong.

One of his hands slides down her back, resting on her ass and squeezing it. Soarynn moans into the kiss, and goosebumps cover her skin. He pulls away from the kiss only to start kissing up and down her jaw, pressing kisses on her neck as well. Soarynn sighs, staring up at the ceiling again, wondering if this is how all their encounters will go from now on. Secret and rushed.

His other hand leaves her waist, sliding out from under her nightgown to grab her throat. He applies a slight pressure to the sides of her neck and Soarynn gasps, her head feels hazy, her breaths are shortened and she's panicking.

She's remembering.

Remembering what those men said about her. How good she'd feel. How she's the President's whore.

Whore. Slut. The President's little plaything.

Her vision is growing spotty and his lips are getting more aggressive. Soarynn can feel his fingers sliding under the waistband of her panties. She tries to buck his hand off but he must think that she's into this, into him.

"Good girl," he praises, sucking on the tender skin under her ear.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut and uses all the strength in her body to shove him back. "Stop," she gasps, opening her eyes again, "stop, please stop." His hands disappear from her body instantly but she still feels like she's being choked, being touched. Touched by them, by those men who talked about fucking her while she was tied up.

Soarynn gasps for air, tears burn in her eyes.

"Soarynn," he starts, his eyes filled with concern and confusion but she's already shaking her head, already trying to get off of his lap.

Everything is so fuzzy and she ends up falling backward onto the floor. Pain shoots through her body but the adrenaline takes over and she pushes herself onto her feet, "I'm sorry," she whispers, shame flooding her voice, "I...I can't."

She rests a hand on the edge of his desk as she walks around it, ignoring his calls for her. She stumbles towards the doors, opening them and welcoming the fresh air.

"Soarynn," he calls again.

She ignores him.

She ignores everything while walking back down the hallway, a million terrible thoughts racing through her mind. She manages to make it to the back staircase and she leans against the banister for a second, catching her breath.

She can still feel his hands on her body and she hates it.

Soarynn grabs onto the railing and pulls herself onto the stairs, making her way up them at a pathetic rate. When she reaches the top, she's out of breath. She wonders what he's thinking, if he's following her, or if he's really going to fire her now that she's truly lost it.

Tears begin to stream down Soarynn's face but she keeps walking, desperate to go to her room and sleep all of this away. She walks past Ceraphina's room and chokes back a sob, she can't believe she made such a foolish risk like that when the children are her main priority.

How could she be so stupid?

When she finally gets to her own room, she slams the doors closed behind her, sinking down onto the floor. Soarynn pulls her knees up to her chest and allows herself to properly cry. Would this all be different if her father hadn't died? If Livia hadn't died? Are they both watching her run around with the President of Panem like she's living in some delusional fairy tale?

Her entire frame trembles as she cries, her gasps echo throughout her room. She's so tired, so exhausted both mentally and physically. When does it all end? The anxiety, the unknown, the battle between her heart and her head?

A soft purring momentarily distracts her from the world falling apart and she looks up from her spot on the floor to find Petunia staring up at her, those eyes identical to her own filled with unending devotion in a world full of conditions. "Oh Petunia," she whispers, "I ruined everything." More tears threaten to spill down her cheeks but Soarynn forces them back.

Coriolanus was right about one thing.

She's not getting enough sleep and she's exhausted. She knows that the lack of sleep isn't doing her or her emotions any favors. "Let's go to bed," she mumbles, reaching out for her loyal feline. Petunia allows her to scoop her up and Soarynn slowly stands to her feet, more stable now that she's had a proper breakdown. She doesn't even get under the covers, she just flops onto the bed and finally, finally gives into sleep.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn wakes up she can hear birds chirping accompanied by the sound of a small person breathing beside her.

She cracks one eye open and finds Celeste watching her intently. "Good morning," she whispers causing Soarynn to smile, she probably looks rough right now but Celeste isn't one to comment on one's outward appearance. That's her sister's specialty.

"Good morning darling," she replies, reaching out to rest a loving hand on her cheek. Celeste leans into her touch and her eyes hold worry and fear, "Daddy said you were sick so you couldn't come to breakfast, are you really sick?" Soarynn swallows, she must've slept through her alarm which means Coriolanus thinks she's avoiding him.

Which she is but that's a hard thing to do in his own house.

At least he came up with a good lie to cover up her absence. She feels bad though, missing breakfast means that either Coriolanus or Eudora had to wake the children up. "I'm not feeling my best," she answers truthfully, sitting up slowly, "but I don't think I'm sick."

Celeste lets out a sigh of relief and nods, "Okay good, I don't want you to get sick like Mommy did."

Soarynn feels her heart break into a million pieces.

She can't imagine the fear and anxiety that the children must deal with whenever the adults in their lives get sick or injured. The slightest cough must send them over the edge and here she is, sleeping through breakfast because she can't handle a bit of intimacy.

Get it together, she chides herself while patting the spot on the bed next to her, "Come sit darling." Celeste smiles at the opportunity to get into someone else's bed and attempts to jump onto the bed but she's still too little so Soarynn swoops her up, making her giggle. "Who woke you up?" Soarynn asks, running a hand through Celeste's curls. She's still dressed in her pajamas which means it's still early in the morning.

Celeste cuddles against her, "Eudora did. Then Daddy let me try some of his coffee but but was so yucky Soarynn." She grins at a very true statement, Soarynn has never been too fond of coffee even though it always smells delicious. Her father would always drink it at breakfast. He'd read the paper while they spent their mornings together, Soarynn preparing for school and her father preparing for work.

She misses those moments.

"At least you tried it," Soarynn tells her, "it's important to try new things." Celeste hums, playing with the hem of Soarynn's nightgown, "Can we go to the park today?" Soarynn wishes they could, the children are beginning to grow stir crazy and she can't really blame them. "Once my eye and nose look better then we can go," she tells Celeste who looks up at her face to assess the damage. "I'm sorry we couldn't help you," she says quietly, her eyes dropping back down.

Soarynn frowns, has Celeste been carrying around this guilt the entire time? And Ceraphina for that matter? Heaven knows what Caspian has been thinking about since they got back home.

Soarynn insistently shakes her head, quick to deter any of these terrible thoughts, "You all were a great help to me, darling. You kept me calm and you helped me when I fell. And most importantly, you listened to me. You all trusted me and I...I," Soarynn feels herself getting choked up but for different reasons this time, "I love you all very much. I can't imagine a world without you children in it."

Celeste's own face reflects the same feeling of endearment, her eyes look so much like his, and yet Soarynn knows exactly where her heart lies.

Coriolanus Snow might be a mystery to her but his children never are.

꧁ ꧂

Later that day, Soarynn finds herself at the Capitol Stables.

This is the last place she expected to be but according to Eudora, Coriolanus wants Soarynn to select the perfect horse for the children. She still hasn't seen Coriolanus since last night but she's perfectly fine with that.

"Did you ever go to the races?" Sejanus Plinth's question pulls her from her faraway thoughts about Coriolanus Snow and back into the present where they're strolling through the Stables, looking at all the horses in their stalls.

"I did," she answers, "my father loved watching the races and I loved the horses." Horse racing is a well-practiced sport in the Capitol, known for its wealthy spectators and expensive bets placed on the horses. During the off-season the Stables are open for people to visit the horses and even purchase one of their own should they choose to do so.

Soarynn has been the arena where the races take place but never the Stables, not until now that is. She didn't know what to expect and since Eudora would be watching the children, she had invited Sejanus to accompany her. She felt safer with someone beside her, and Sejanus had taken such great care of Petunia while they were gone.

Sejanus nods, "They're beautiful creatures," he agrees, "how was District Four by the way?" Soarynn pales a bit at his question, but she recovers smoothly, "It was cold," she answers, "but beautiful. The ocean is a force to be reckoned with."

They stop at one of the stalls where a spotted horse sticks its head out to greet them, "Oh, aren't you a pretty thing?" Soarynn asks, reaching out to scratch its head. They both chuckle when the horse leans out further, just like Petunia asking for pets. "Is there a specific color you're after?" Sejanus asks, resting a hand on its neck. Soarynn purses her lips, she wasn't given any specific instructions as to what to look for but she can imagine that Coriolanus would want something that screams 'The Snow Family.'

"Something white," she decides, giving the horse a pat farewell, "Coriolanus would like that."

Sejanus grins, "First name basis huh?" Her cheeks burn pink as she starts walking again, "You're not funny you know," she says, quickening her pace, "and he insisted that I be on a first-name basis with him." She slows her pace when she comes across a beautiful horse, all white, "Hello there," she greets, gripping the stall door. Sejanus comes up next to her, looking the horse up and down, "I'd say he matches your description, and as for Coriolanus, I'm simply surprised that he insisted. He's been so closed off since Livia."

Soarynn hums, watching the horse slowly walk up to them, its tail flicking behind it, "I know," she murmurs, "and I barely even speak to him as it is. We're both far too busy with our jobs." Lies, lies, lies.

Sejanus looks like he doesn't believe her but she chooses to ignore it. She's been choosing to ignore a lot of things lately.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn comes back from the Stables, all three of the Snow children rush to greet her. She must admit, it was nice to leave for a while, see the city again. Eudora had instructed her to apply a liberal amount of makeup to cover up any bruising or swelling and since Sejanus hadn't commented on any of it, she must've done a good job.

"You're back!" Ceraphina says, throwing her arms around Soarynn's legs. Soarynn almost tumbles back but Sejanus prevents that from happening, quickly steadying her, "Where are my hugs huh?" He teases, earning him more excited gasps. The children see Soarynn every day, Sejanus is a rare treat when it comes to visitors.

While Celeste and Ceraphina flock around Sejanus asking him all sorts of questions, Caspian slowly but surely toddles over to Soarynn, holding his hands out for balance. Soarynn grins at the sweet sight, "Come here sweet boy," she croons, bending down to pick him up. She sometimes finds it hard to believe that such a sweet child can exist in a world like this, that evil men had no issue holding up a gun to his head.

It makes her feel even worse about what happened last night.

A week ago she was fearing for her life and now she's having sexual relations with their father. What the hell is wrong with her?

He's probably stressed, she tells herself while watching the girls interact with Sejanus, he just needed to blow off some steam, this'll all blow over by the end of the week.

And it will. She'll work up the courage to talk to Coriolanus about all of this, get their relationship back on a professional track, and move forward.

Simple as that.

"Are you coming to the party Sejanus?" Ceraphina's question reminds Soarynn about the party that they'll be throwing at the end of the year. She's a bit surprised that Coriolanus is still going through with it but at the same time, she understands his need for normalcy and moving forward. If you dwindle in the past for too long, you're bound to be left behind.

And Soarynn refuses to be left behind.

"I am," Sejanus confirms with a nod of his head, "I can't wait to see you two tear it up on the dance floor again." The girls giggle at the memory of the last party they had but it only brings up more sour memories for Soarynn who only remembers how the night ended for her.

She presses a kiss to Caspian's blonde hair, if he hadn't spoken up for her, she might not be in this position right now.

She just doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing.

꧁ ꧂

"Coriolanus, I wanted to discuss what our professional relationship has turned into. We're both adults and I would never want to jeopardize my job for the sake of physical intimacy."

Soarynn nods at her reflection in the mirror, "Just say that and you'll be fine," she mumbles, raking her fingers through her hair. The children are finally asleep and she's getting nervous. She could just go to bed, and pretend nothing happened last night but that would be childish, not to mention highly unprofessional.

As if kissing him while straddling him isn't considered unprofessional.

Still, one must make necessary strides toward things that are important to them. And keeping her job and not abandoning her children is very important to her.

Soarynn takes a few deep breaths before she feels prepared to face him. But it’ll feel like a long walk to his study. That’s fine, she can think about her stupid mentions and their consequences on the way down the hall.

Soarynn quietly opens her doors so she doesn’t somehow wake the children and can’t hide her look of surprise when she sees an Avox waiting outside of her bedroom. The Snows only hire Avoxes to do things such as cleaning and waiting on them so that no private information can be spread.

Soarynn has often shuddered at the thought of losing her tongue. How would she sing and laugh?

She swallows, taking a step back when the placid faced Avox moves towards her, holding out something in their hand. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s a letter. A letter that looks identical to the one she had waiting for her in her closet when she first moved in.

Soarynn takes the letter.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, only getting a silent nod in reply. Well, she can’t expect much.

She closes the doors behind her, the original mission long forgotten as she tears open the letter, breaking the seal with a rose embossed on it.

Her fingers shake as she unfolds the perfectly folded paper.

Soarynn, You won’t find me in my study tonight, some work-related issues have been brought to my attention and as you know, I intend to solve every problem sent my way. As for the growing problem between us, allow me to offer my deepest apologies for any pain I might have caused you. If I moved too fast or hurt you in any way please know that was never my intention. Despite the internal struggles within our complex relationship, I still find myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. You’ll find me to be a terribly possessive man who doesn’t back down from a fight easily. Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll know where to find me. Until then, sleep well and look after my children for me. Yours truly, Coriolanus

Soarynn nearly crumples the letter in her hands. How is it possible for a man to make her feel so many things at once?

He knows what he’s doing, she’ll give him that. But why her? There’s a part of her that still worries this might just be a ploy to get into her pants. The other part, the optimistic part, thinks and hopes that this might be more. That Coriolanus might see her as an equal, as someone to cherish and spend time with.

She just wishes she could figure out which one she’d prefer.

But after reading that letter, it seems she has no choice but to play his little game. It’s fine, she tells herself, thinking about those men who were so easily sniped from the shore, those men whose lives were so easily discarded by Coriolanus.

There are much worse games to play.

| Part 8. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{ Part 9. }

꧁| tag list: @lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead |꧂

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 19 ✧˚₊‧

Suguru’s dorm room was filled with a quiet excitement as Sarah finished arranging pillows around the low wooden table in the center of the room. “Perfect,” she declared, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Her eyes flicked to the red velvet cake sitting proudly on the table, the candles unlit but ready for their moment.

On the other side of the room, Satoru was precariously balanced on the edge of a chair, tongue poking out in concentration as he tied the last of the streamers to the curtain rod. “Almost there—” he muttered before the end slipped through his fingers.

“Damn it—”

“Shut up!" Shoko hissed, shushing him sharply as she crouched by the cake, a lighter in hand. “Do you want to ruin the surprise?” She flicked the lighter, coaxing each little wick into a tiny flame.

Satoru grumbled under his breath but managed to secure the streamer without further mishap. “Why are these things so fiddly?” he muttered, hopping down and brushing imaginary dust off his pants like he hadn’t just wrestled with crepe paper for ten minutes.

“Because you suck,” Sarah teased, tossing a pillow at him. He caught it with one hand, smirking.

Before Satoru could retort, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. “He’s coming!” Shoko whispered, blowing out the lighter and shoving it into her pocket.

The three of them scrambled into position as the doorknob turned. Suguru stepped into the room, his sharp features softening into a surprised smile as Sarah, Shoko, and Satoru jumped to their feet.

“Happy birthday!” they shouted in unison, their voices echoing off the dorm’s plain walls.

Suguru blinked, then laughed, his shoulders shaking as he took in the room. Streamers crisscrossed overhead, candles flickered atop the cake, and the table was surrounded by a fortress of plush pillows. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was cozy and warm—perfect.

“Wow,” he said, stepping fully into the room. “You guys did all this for me?”

“Of course!” Sarah said, grinning.

Satoru was already beside him, plonking a red party hat onto his head with a smug grin. “You’re lucky I remembered your favorite flavor,” he said, feigning nonchalance.

“Thank you, Satoru,” Suguru said sincerely, his eyes warm as they met his friend’s. Satoru’s ears turned faintly pink, and he coughed, suddenly very interested in fiddling with the edge of a streamer.

They all settled around the table, Suguru sitting cross-legged at the center. Shoko nudged the cake closer to him. “Make a wish,” she said with a small smile.

As they sang, their voices ranged from Sarah’s energetic enthusiasm to Satoru’s overly dramatic vibrato, and Suguru laughed through most of it. When the song ended, he leaned forward and blew out the candles in one smooth breath.

The room erupted in applause, and Satoru nudged him playfully. “Hope you didn't waste a good wish, those things don't come cheap,” he said with a smirk.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Suguru said dryly, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “Really, though—thank you, all of you. This is… amazing.”

As the last crumbs of cake disappeared, Satoru pushed himself to his feet with a mischievous grin that immediately put everyone on high alert. “Alright, birthday boy,” he announced, stepping over to his bed, “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “There’s more?”

“Oh, there’s more.” Satoru bent down and hauled out a stack of board games so tall it nearly toppled as he wrestled it onto the table. “Ta-da!” he said triumphantly, dusting off his hands.

Suguru’s jaw dropped as he took in the eclectic pile of boxes. “Wait—these are all the games I mentioned?” he asked, pointing at the stack.

“Every. Single. One.” Satoru beamed, leaning on the stack like it was his crowning achievement. “And we’re playing all of them before curfew.”

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t mean literally all of them, Satoru. I just said they sounded fun.”

“Uh-uh,” Satoru interrupted, wagging a finger. “You said you wanted to try them, and I, being the thoughtful and generous friend I am, made that happen. No take-backs.”

Sarah piped up, clapping her hands once for emphasis. “Exactly! It’s your birthday, Suguru, so we’re doing this for you. If you want a twelve-hour board game marathon, then we’ll give you a twelve-hour board game marathon.” She plopped onto a pillow, crossing her arms with mock determination. “Don’t even try to argue. This is happening."

“Not that it’s even that much to ask,” Shoko chimed in, leaning back on her hands, “You could’ve been way greedier, honestly. Like, where’s the outrageous demands? The unreasonable requests? We’re practically getting off easy here.”

Suguru rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered but grinning all the same. “You guys are ridiculous," he murmured.

“And you,” Satoru said, dramatically flinging open the top game box and pulling out a deck of cards, “are about to lose spectacularly at every single one of these.”

“Oh, please,” Suguru shot back, leaning forward to grab the instructions, "You can barely follow the rules to Uno, let alone anything with actual strategy.”

“Hey, rude!” Satoru gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded, “You’re just scared of my superior gaming skills.”

“You don’t have those for everything,” Sarah chimed in.

“Agreed,” Shoko added, smirking.

The room quickly filled with laughter as they started setting up the first game, Suguru dramatically narrating every step while Sarah sorted pieces with an intensity that rivaled a world championship. Shoko, shaking her head but smiling all the while, leaned back against a pillow.

“Alright, fine,” Suguru said, watching his friends bicker good-naturedly over who got to pick their player piece first. “Let’s do this.”

“Damn right we will!” Satoru crowed, raising a fist in the air.

And so the night unfolded in a flurry of dice rolls, questionable alliances, and far too much competitive banter. Suguru didn’t stop smiling once—not even when Satoru flipped the board after losing to Sarah for the third time in a row.

But soon enough room was no longer the picture of lighthearted fun. The four friends sat huddled around the low table, leaning closer and closer as the board for Pandemic became a web of red, blue, and yellow cubes threatening to overtake their carefully laid plans. The stakes were high—Tokyo was on the verge of falling, Atlanta was a lost cause, and someone had just drawn an epidemic card.

“Okay, okay,” Satoru muttered, squinting at his hand of cards like it would suddenly reveal some miracle solution. “If I can get to Delhi, I can clear it before the outbreak spreads—”

“Assuming you don’t roll a three and accidentally make it worse,” Sarah cut in, her voice sharp but teasing as she arranged her cards on the table.

“Have a little faith!” Satoru protested, puffing out his chest.

“You rolled a three last turn,” Shoko deadpanned, pushing a stray strand of hair out of her face as she leaned over the board. “And the turn before that.”

“Hey, dice are unpredictable!” Satoru huffed, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his enjoyment of the chaos.

Suguru, calm and composed as always, tapped his fingers on the table. “If we don’t act fast, the game’s over. Shoko, can you get to Kinshasa on your turn? That might buy us some time.”

“Assuming I survive long enough to take my turn,” she muttered, glancing at the ticking timer that was the outbreak track.

The tension was thick as Sarah stared down at her cards, biting her lip. Everyone watched her, waiting to see what move she would make. And then—

“Nope!” she said suddenly, slamming her cards down and flopping onto her back dramatically. “I’m done. The disease got me. I’m out.”

The room was silent for a beat, then Satoru burst into laughter, tossing his cards onto the table. “You’re just giving up? That’s it?”

“I’m over it!” Sarah declared, lying on the floor with her arms crossed over her chest like a vampire in a coffin. “I’ve succumbed to the plague. Let me rest in peace.”

Suguru chuckled, setting his cards aside and crawling over to where Sarah lay. “If you’re going out, we might as well make it official,” he said, clearing his throat dramatically. “Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here today to mourn Sarah, taken too soon by the Great Pandemic of 2024. She fought bravely but ultimately decided—”

“—she couldn’t be bothered anymore,” Shoko finished, smirking as she joined them on the floor.

“Shoko gets me,” Sarah said from her ‘grave,’ her voice muffled by the pillow gently placed over her face by Shoko.

Satoru scooted closer, his laughter barely contained as he propped his chin on his hand. “I’d like to add that she was also terrible at following directions and made some very questionable moves throughout the game," he added.

“Excuse me?” Sarah snapped, sitting up just enough to glare at him, "I’m dead. You can’t insult the dead. That's some bullshit.”

“Oh, I definitely can,” Satoru shot back, grinning. “It’s called honest reflection.”

Suguru waved them down, ever the peacekeeper. “Enough! Let’s not tarnish her memory.” He paused for dramatic effect, steepling his fingers. “Sarah was… well, she was here. And she tried her best.”

Sarah groaned, flopping back down. “You’re all the worst. I’m haunting this dorm," she declared, "When I become a ghost you'll all see."

“Bring it on, ghost girl,” Satoru teased, nudging her foot.

The seriousness of the game was long forgotten as the group dissolved into laughter, the board abandoned and the outbreak track climbing unchecked. Even Shoko cracked a smile as she stretched out on the floor, muttering something about how they’d definitely all be dead in real life if this was how they handled an actual pandemic.

“Alright,” Suguru said after catching his breath, looking between his friends. “So… Next game? No more diseases."

“Deal,” Sarah replied from the floor, raising her hand in mock solemnity. “But only if I get to haunt Satoru in the next round.”

“You already do,” Satoru quipped, earning another pillow thrown his way.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The weeks flew by as winter slowly thawed into spring, blanketing the campus in pink cherry blossoms by the time April rolled around. Between missions and exorcising curses, the four friends managed to carve out plenty of time for each other, their bond growing stronger with every shared laugh, argument, and ridiculous plan. 

February brought Valentine’s Day, which Satoru treated as his personal comedy show. “Ladies,” he’d said, sauntering into the common room with his sunglasses on and a self-satisfied grin, “form a line. I know you all have something for me.” 

Sarah rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Oh, yeah, because we all spent so much time making chocolates for you,” she deadpanned, tossing a wrapped candy bar at him. 

“Aw, Sarah, you shouldn’t have,” Satoru teased, catching it effortlessly. 

“It’s expired,” she shot back, smirking. 

Suguru, ever the smooth one, handed out chocolates with a calm smile and a “Happy Valentine’s,” earning a heartfelt “Aww!” from Sarah and Shoko. He even gave Satoru one, which caused the taller boy to clutch his chest and proclaim, “Suguru, you shouldn’t have! I’m not ready for this level of commitment.” 

Shoko had handed out store-bought chocolates with zero fanfare, though Sarah noticed she’d gone for the fancy brand and made sure everyone got their favorite flavor. “Don’t read into it,” she’d said when Sarah teased her. “I just like peace and quiet.” 

March rolled in with White Day, and if Valentine’s was fun, White Day was absolutely unhinged. 

Satoru showed up wearing a bowtie and carrying a stack of carefully wrapped gifts so tall he could barely see over them. “Don’t worry, everyone,” he announced, dramatically plopping them on the table. “I went all out to make up for last month. Prepare to be amazed.” 

The gifts turned out to be laughably specific and somehow perfect. Sarah got a ridiculous puzzle featuring a cursed spirit wearing sunglasses “Because it reminded me of you,” Satoru said with a wink. Shoko received a set of herbal teas, “to match her calm and soothing personality” which made Shoko snort. Suguru, however, got a beautifully crafted wooden box filled with red velvet cupcakes, which made him pause. 

“Oh? All this for me?” Suguru asked, a little surprised. 

“Of course,” Satoru replied, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the proud grin on his face. “I have a great memory.”

Suguru returned the favor with small, thoughtful gifts for everyone, though Satoru insisted his was clearly the best: a pair of novelty sunglasses shaped like stars. “Because you’re a star, Satoru,” Suguru said with a straight face, making Satoru beam like he’d won the lottery. 

The laughter and camaraderie carried them into April, where spring painted the school grounds in pastel colors and the air grew warmer. Cherry blossoms fell like snow whenever the wind picked up, carpeting the paths and courtyards in pink petals. The start of the new school year brought a buzz of energy to campus, but for the four of them, it was just another chapter in their chaotic, wonderful lives. 

Even with the added pressure of missions and the occasional all-nighter in the library, they still made time to sit under the cherry blossom trees, eating convenience store snacks and teasing each other mercilessly. 

One breezy afternoon, as the petals swirled around them, Satoru leaned back on his hands and grinned. “I think we’re doing pretty great at this whole life thing.” 

Sarah, mid-bite of a taiyaki, raised an eyebrow. “What part of ‘great’ includes getting ambushed by a curse last week because you stopped to admire your reflection in a puddle?” 

“It was a very reflective puddle,” Satoru shot back, feigning offense. 

Suguru chuckled, brushing a stray petal from his shoulder. “As long as you’re all still alive to argue about it, I’d say we’re doing fine.” 

Shoko, lying flat on the ground with her arms crossed over her chest, muttered, “Barely.” 

The group burst into laughter, the sound carrying on the spring breeze, as another petal landed perfectly on Satoru’s head. He didn’t notice, and no one told him. It was too perfect to ruin.

Later that week, Satoru leaned against one of the thick tree trunks in the courtyard, his ever-present sunglasses pushed up to the bridge of his nose. The petals from the blooming cherry blossoms danced lazily in the breeze, but for once, he wasn’t paying attention to the way they caught the light or how perfect they looked swirling around his head (a natural spotlight, obviously). His focus was elsewhere, his mind spinning with a question that didn’t quite make sense. 

Nanami and Haibara were joining the school in a few days. That wasn’t weird; he knew those two would end up here. What was weird was the inclusion of Sarah. 

She’d already been here for a while, and she’d been a constant part of his life this past year, bickering with him, laughing with him, occasionally teaming up with Shoko to outwit him, and becoming a fast friend to all three of them. But she was going to be their underclassman—the same year as Nanami and Haibara. That didn’t make sense.

In his first life, Nanami and Haibara had been the only two in their year. He could remember it so clearly. Sarah hadn’t been there then. Or… had she?

Satoru frowned, his sunglasses slipping slightly as he tried to piece it together. Maybe she’d come to Jujutsu Tech back then too, but for some reason, she wasn’t in their lives. Had she been in a different year? No, that didn’t track either. She was only a year younger than him and on top of that she definitely hadn't been in the year with Ijichi. Had something—or someone—changed her path? 

His eyes darted across the courtyard as a group of upperclassmen walked by, laughing and chatting. They didn’t even notice him as they headed toward the school building, but Satoru narrowed his eyes behind his shades. 

Was it them? He vaguely recognized a couple of the faces from the future, or at least the ones that had made it to adulthood. Back in his first life, he’d told Ijichi to quit sorcery and become a manager—a decision that, honestly, had been one of his better ideas. Ijichi was better off for it. But now that Satoru thought about it, Sarah had already been picked out for being weak by the upperclassmen. They'd backed off after a few "polite" warnings by Suguru and him, but that wouldn't have been an option before.

The thought made his jaw tighten. He could picture it too clearly. What if she’d been with them, out of the orbit of him, Suguru, and Shoko? What if someone had made her feel like she didn’t belong? Like she wasn’t good enough? The idea of Sarah being bullied—or worse, bullied out of sorcery—made his stomach twist.

Mostly because... He almost did that same thing to her when he met her.

“Hey,” Suguru’s voice broke through his thoughts, calm and steady as always. He dropped onto the grass next to Satoru, glancing at him curiously. “You’re frowning," he said, tilting his head.

Satoru blinked, startled, and then shrugged like he didn’t care. “I’m not frowning," he huffed, "I’m thinking. Big difference.” 

“Ah, my mistake,” Suguru said, smirking slightly as he leaned back on his hands, “What are you thinking about?” 

Satoru hesitated, glancing toward the school building where the upperclassmen had disappeared. “Just… weird timeline stuff," he mumbled.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “That’s weird, even for you," he sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Satoru said quickly, waving him off, “I’m probably overthinking.” 

But even as he said it, his gaze drifted toward the courtyard again, watching the wind scatter petals across the ground. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—had changed the course of Sarah’s life back then. And whatever it was, he wasn’t going to let it happen again.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Kento Nanami stood stiffly in the classroom, arms crossed and posture as rigid as a ruler. His sharp gaze swept over the scene before him: a whirlwind of chaos, noise, and questionable dance moves. On one side of him, the perpetually cheerful boy—Haibara, if he remembered correctly—was wearing his bright red party hat like it was a badge of honor, grinning from ear to ear. On his other side, the girl, Sarah, had hers slightly tilted to the side, matching the playful smirk on her face. 

Across the room, the three upperclassmen were the epicenter of the madness. The white-haired one—Gojo, he thought—was leading the charge, spinning in circles and flailing his arms like a malfunctioning wind turbine. Geto and Shoko flanked him, both putting in a half-hearted effort that only made the spectacle even more absurd. 

Nanami sighed. Again. 

“Come on, Nanami!” Haibara said, elbowing him lightly. His enthusiasm was as relentless as it was baffling. “You’ve gotta join us! It’s way more fun when everyone’s in on it.” 

“I highly doubt that,” Nanami replied, his tone flat and unimpressed. 

Sarah leaned over, grinning up at him. “Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud," she laughed, "It’s not every day you get welcomed to Jujutsu Tech with a dance party. Embrace it!” 

“I fail to see how this qualifies as a ‘welcome,’” Nanami said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s tradition,” Sarah shot back, though the mischievous glint in her eye suggested otherwise, “Right, Gojo-senpai?” The way she emphasized senpai, like it was some kind of inside joke, made him want to sigh again.

“Absolutely!” Gojo called from across the room, pausing mid-spin to flash Nanami an exaggerated thumbs-up. “It’s a sacred ritual for all first-years. You wouldn’t want to offend the dance gods, would you?” 

Nanami stared at him, unblinking. “There’s no such thing as dance gods," he stated.

“Ohhh, Nanami,” Haibara said, shaking his head dramatically. “You’re really testing your luck with statements like that.” 

“See?” Sarah added, nudging him again. “Even Haibara knows better.” 

Nanami sighed again, long and deep, as if trying to summon the patience of a thousand lifetimes. He’d been at Jujutsu Tech for less than a day, and he was already questioning every decision that had led him here. 

As if sensing his internal struggle, Suguru broke away from the impromptu dance circle and strolled over, a calm and collected presence amid the chaos. “Satoru is just being Satoru,” he said smoothly, his voice low enough for only Nanami to hear, “You don’t actually have to join in. He just likes to push people’s buttons.” 

Nanami glanced at Suguru, appreciating the reprieve. “Thank you,” he said, his voice clipped but sincere. 

“But,” Suguru added, a small smile playing on his lips, “if you do join, it’ll shut him up faster.” 

Nanami blinked, then turned his gaze back to Gojo, who was now dramatically moonwalking in his direction. He sighed again, heavier this time, “I can’t believe this is my life now.” 

Sarah laughed, “Welcome to Jujutsu Tech, Nanami. You’ll get used to it.” 

Haibara clapped him on the back, grinning. “Or you’ll learn to love it!” he said.

“Doubtful,” Nanami muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched, just barely. He wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but a small part of him was starting to think that maybe there was something endearing about the madness.

Or well... He thought so until his first mission. Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. His sword was still in his hand, its blade streaked with the fading remnants of the pitifully weak curses he'd just dispatched. The small, shadowy forms were already dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind nothing but the faint, acrid scent of their defeat. 

From behind him came an eruption of noise that he really should have anticipated by now. 

"Nanami, that was amazing!" Haibara’s voice was full of awe, as if Nanami had just single-handedly toppled a special grade curse. "You’re so cool!" 

"Seriously," Sarah chimed in, just as enthusiastically. "That slicing thing you did at the end? Chef’s kiss. Absolute perfection." 

Nanami sighed, flicking the cursed blood off his blade with a practiced motion. “It was a simple exorcism. There’s no need for theatrics," he said calmly.

But Haibara was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, his face lit up like a kid who’d just seen his favorite hero in action. “No, no, no, you don’t get it, Nanami!" He insisted, "You made it look effortless! The way you just—bam!—took them all out? Legendary.” 

Sarah nodded fervently, her grin wide and unrepentant. “It was super cool!" She agreed, nodding excitedly, "We gotta come up with a nickname or something for you!"

"Please don’t," Nanami replied flatly, shaking his head as he stepped toward Sarah. She was already holding out the black sheath bag for his sword, grinning like she was part of a pit crew and he was their star driver. 

“You’re welcome,” she said cheekily as he slid the sword into its sheath with practiced precision. 

He gave her a look, but it lacked any real heat. “Thank you.” 

That was apparently all the encouragement the two of them needed because as soon as the sword was safely stowed, Haibara and Sarah launched into an animated conversation about his “technique,” their words tumbling over one another in a chaotic but strangely endearing cacophony. 

“I mean, the way he angled the blade—” 

“—and that calculation mid-swing? Beautiful.” 

Nanami sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of long-suffering exasperation. “You’re both overreacting,” he said, but it didn’t deter them in the slightest. 

Haibara tilted his head, his expression curious now. “How did you figure out your technique, anyway? It seems so… precise. Like, it’s not just something you stumble into, right?” 

Nanami adjusted the strap of his sheath bag and glanced down at the younger boy. “Techniques are inherited,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact. “I’ve understood how to use mine, in some form, for most of my life. It’s simply a matter of refining it.” 

“Whoa,” Haibara said, his eyes wide with genuine admiration. “So it’s like it’s in your blood or something?” 

“Something like that,” Nanami said, his tone clipped but not unkind. 

Sarah crossed her arms, smirking. “Inherited technique or not, you’ve clearly put in the work. It’s impressive, Nanami. Admit it, you’re a bit of a prodigy.” 

“I’m not a prodigy,” he said firmly, glancing at her. “I’m efficient. There’s a difference.” 

“Efficient and humble,” Sarah teased. 

He groaned quietly, already regretting letting them tag along on this mission. Yet, as Haibara’s laughter filled the air and Sarah grinned at him like she knew exactly how to get under his skin, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to feel truly annoyed. If nothing else, they made the monotony of low-grade curses more bearable.

The fight had barely cooled, the last remnants of the curses finally dissolving into the air, when Sarah clapped her hands together, her eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief. "Okay," she said decisively, "we’re getting sukiyaki." 

Haibara’s head whipped around so fast it was a wonder he didn’t sprain his neck. “Sukiyaki?” His face broke into a grin as wide as the moon, “Sarah, you’re the best!” 

Before she could reply, Haibara threw his arms around her in an enthusiastic hug, nearly lifting her off the ground in his excitement. Sarah let out a snort, playfully swatting at him once she wriggled free. “Of course I’m the best,” she said, her tone dripping with mock arrogance. “Obviously.” 

“You’re not even pretending to be humble, are you?” Nanami muttered, his arms crossed as he watched the display unfold. 

Sarah tilted her head at him, raising an eyebrow. “Humble? What’s that? Sounds boring," she shrugged.

Before Nanami could retort, she turned to Haibara with a grin. “Come on, Haibara, let’s drag Mr. Efficient-and-No-Fun over here with us," she said, "Sukiyaki is a group activity, and we’re not leaving him behind.” 

Nanami immediately straightened, frowning. “Absolutely not," he said, shaking his head, "It’s already late, and we have class tomorrow morning. We should be getting back to—” 

His protests were cut off as Sarah and Haibara simultaneously latched onto him, each grabbing one of his arms and linking theirs with his in a way that brooked no argument. Felt like he was instantly in the Wizard of Oz and it was time to follow the yellow brick road. And it was exactly that annoying as well.

“Oh, come on, Nanami,” Sarah said, her tone sweet but clearly not up for debate, “Live a little.” 

Haibara grinned up at him, looking every bit the accomplice in crime. “Yeah, Nanami," he insisted, "It’s just sukiyaki. We’ll make sure you’re in bed before midnight. Probably.” 

“Probably?” Nanami repeated, incredulous. 

But they were already moving, their combined enthusiasm propelling him forward whether he liked it or not. He didn’t bother resisting. At this point, he’d learned that trying to reason with the two of them when they were like this was about as effective as reasoning with a tornado. 

By the time they reached the car, Yaga was leaning against the door, arms crossed, a single eyebrow raised as he watched the three of them approach. “Do I even want to ask?” he said dryly. 

“Sukiyaki,” Sarah announced proudly. 

“Late-night bonding,” Haibara added with equal enthusiasm. 

Nanami sighed, his expression a perfect picture of resignation. “I tried to stop them," he said quietly.

Yaga looked at him, unimpressed. “Not hard enough, apparently," he said with a huff of a laugh.

Sarah and Haibara grinned at each other as they climbed into the car, dragging Nanami along with them. As Yaga got behind the wheel, Sarah turned to Haibara with a conspiratorial grin. 

“Let’s make sure Nanami gets the best seat,” she whispered loudly enough for him to hear, earning her another sigh, "Since he's the champion today."

“You two are insufferable,” Nanami muttered, though there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the car pulled away. 

Sarah caught it, of course, and nudged Haibara with a triumphant look. “We’re growing on him," she said, settling back in the seat.

“Like moss,” Haibara agreed. 

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose again, but this time, the sigh that followed sounded just a little less heavy.

Prev Main Next

[rn-zane]

TIMING: recent SETTING: coffee house PARTIES: @vanishingreyes + @rn-zane SUMMARY: two people who happen to work in healthcare meet up and... click.

Zane was late and desperately hoping that his new friend wasn’t the type to show up ten minutes early to a coffee hang out. The thought of Xóchitl having waited for over ten minutes was horrifying enough but twenty minutes? If that hadn’t been even more rude, he probably would have scurried off home to hide from the consequences of his awful time management. Plus, he did like the idea of sitting down with her for a chat. She seemed nice, earnest. 

Cold air followed him into the coffee shop once he finally scrambled through the door, apologizing profusely to the woman who had just been about to exit. A quick, almost frantic survey of the coffee shop confirmed that Xó hadn’t simply given up and left, and that she didn’t look annoyed. “Hi, hey,” Zane greeted breathlessly, smiling apologetically as he sat in the empty chair across from her. “I’m so sorry, time just got away from me and… anyway, good thing I already offered to pay because I’m definitely doing that now.”

Tugging the hat from his head, put on mostly for appearances since the cold didn’t really bother him that much, Zane made a futile attempt to control the disarrayed curls that became free. “What are you having? I’ll go order for us.”

—--

She figured that she could use someone to hang out with who was easy company, and who she didn’t want to sleep with. Not that she assumed Zane was unattractive, but she was rather overjoyed (inasmuch as she could be) at the prospect of maybe having a friend that would start as just that, and not as a hookup of some sort. Plus, he seemed like he needed a friend, maybe even more than she did (not that Xóchitl was readily admitting the fact that she did maybe need a friend, but still. Zane needed one even more.)

“You don’t need to apologize,” she gave a flick of her wrist, dismissing (she hoped) any further apologies that he might have attempted. “But yes, you can still get the drinks for us.” Xóchitl didn’t mind being treated, and she was also fairly positive that Zane would collapse into himself like paper if she denied him his wish, so she’d let him do what pleased him, and then, if this went well, repay him sometime.”

“I’ll have a chai. It’s not super authentic here, but I’m also hardly an expert on that, and it does a good job as far as being an enjoyable drink. What will you have?” Xóchitl tucked her phone into her bag. “You should get yourself something to eat, too. Feels like I should say that especially because of the whole fact that you’re a nurse in the Emergency Department and likely don’t have a whole lot of free time.”

—-

Further apologies died on his tongue at the flick of Xó’s hand but it did little to quell the apologetic smile that was still glued on Zane’s face. Nodding along eagerly as she gave her order, he shrugged off his jacket to hang on the back of the chair, hoping his face didn’t twitch when she mentioned food. “I’m good with just drinks at the moment, honest. Don’t worry, my coworkers are really good at bothering me about nutrition.” He’d had to brush off more worries about his eating habits than he could count, even going so far as to vanish into the breakroom to be able to lie that he’d had a meal there. 

With one last smile, Zane went off to order their drinks, returning with a steaming chai and a cup that looked more like hot chocolate than coffee, topped off with whipped cream, caramel and some tiny marshmallows. “New winter special,” he explained as he finally took a seat, trying to shake off the anxiety of being late. “I’m bad at resisting caramel flavored things. And tiny marshmallows.”

The first sip was wonderful, the texture of the warm mocha with the whipped cream, coupled with a few pieces of marshmallow doing enough to make up for the lack of being able to really taste it. Grabbing for a tissue to wipe off the cream that now smudged his upper lip, Zane chuckled awkwardly, unsure of where to start this conversation before deciding to just dive in. “I’m… really happy you wanted to meet. You seem nice and, well, never hurts to have more nice people around, right?” 

—-

“Just drinks works for me too, I just figured I’d be rude if I didn’t at least offer, and also I did want to genuinely offer. Make sure you’re doing alright and all that.” She didn’t want to care this much, but she couldn’t help it, apparently. Which was a curse itself, but not one Xóchitl was going to get too into at the moment.

“I think you’d be someone without a heart if you could resist such things.” Xóchitl offered him a small smile. Of course, she played at hating sweets as often as she could, but of all the façades she kept up that one the least. It also wasn’t one she saw it fit to stress out over, at least not too very much. Not right now, at least. The last thing she wanted (or rather, one of the last things she wanted) was for people to think that she avoided indulgences because of some health worry. It was all rooted back to trauma, but that also wasn’t something she needed to focus on or let Zane know anything about. “So long as the marshmallows aren’t stale – I like them when they’re actually correctly squishable.”

“I agree entirely. About having nice people around. I’m glad that I seem nice – you do, too.” She offered him one of her far more genuine smiles. “Did you grow up here? I forget if I’ve asked you this before, or not… also, I am glad we finally met. God knows I need more people at the hospital who I can tolerate.” Xóchitl let her smile come mainly from her eyes, that time.

—--

Zane chuckled softly at her encouragement for the sweet drink, even as the comment of being heartless hit a bit too close to home. Of course he still had a heart but it wasn’t really serving a purpose other than simply being. If an education in healthcare hadn’t already proved beyond a doubt that emotions did indeed not spawn from the heart, his current situation would have been a solid example. “Not sure if I need someone supporting my sugar addiction but I’m definitely not complaining,” he joked.

Looking her over, Xó seemed like someone who wouldn’t have a hard time finding company, whether platonic or not. Her smile was infectious and she seemed so sure of herself, much calmer than Zane who was trying his best to not squirm in the seat. “No, just been here a couple of years. Started nursing school and just sort of stuck around, I guess. As good as any other place,” he explained, although being literally stuck felt more accurate. Where else would a solo, freshly turned vampire go? At least here he had a place to stay, a few people to care about. His hand stilled as he realized he’d been pulling at the ends of his curls, unraveling them and making the already messy locks even more disarrayed. 

“I’ll try to keep myself in that group, then.” He smiled, patting down his hair and fighting the urge to throw his hat back on. “Sorry, been putting off a haircut as you can see and, anyway, what about you? No way you’ve been here your whole life.” 

—--

“Well, I’m an independent woman, and I think I can choose to support whatever it is that I please.” Xóchitl grinned, “and listen, if it makes you happy, and it’s not harming anything other than maybe your teeth, why shouldn’t I approve?”

She could feel his eyes looking her over, and for a moment she straightened up even more, doing her best to appear as perfect as she could. Not for any reason other than the fact that she genuinely wanted Zane’s respect. There was nothing other than platonic feelings toward him, but he’d called her nice and kind so many times that Xóchitl absolutely wanted to prove him right. Make sure she was what he expected. He seemed like he needed predictability and consistency, and if she could give that, she absolutely would. Every time. “Well, I’m sure the town’s all the better for you sticking around, I know I’m glad I got to meet you.” She watched him play with his hair.

“I bet you’ll do that no problem.” Another kind smile, another sip of her drink. “Have you ever considered dying your hair? Not saying you need it, and I’ve personally not done it, but I think it could suit you, if you’re trying to be more out there.” Xóchitl should’ve known to expect the next question. She could’ve lied, but it felt cruel to do so. “I was born here, moved away as a kid, and just came back in March. So no, got my beginnings here but haven’t lived here in just over twenty years.”

—--

Zane chuckled, enjoying the easy conspiracy of encouraging bad behaviors of this caliber. A safe thing to joke about but also something that made him feel like he’d known the woman in front of him for longer than the short conversation they’d had online. Definitely a personality trait that came in handy for a psychologist. “Ah, of course. I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do. Especially since out of the two of us, you probably have better instincts.”

Sometimes, in the presence of kindness like this, Zane tended to feel undeserving. Maybe because of all the secrets he held or simply because he felt more comfortable being the one on the giving end of kind words and actions. That feeling was lingering now, wanting to prompt him into making excuses, try to convince Xóchitl that she wouldn’t feel the same if she knew everything but thankfully, he kept those intrusive thoughts in check. Instead, he settled for an embarrassed smile, one that would have been accompanied by a blush if physiologically possible. “I’m definitely glad, too.”

Her suggestion caught him off guard, the cup of empty calories stilling against his lips for a moment before he finally took a sip. They’d talked a bit about their differences online, Zane’s tendency to stay back, far from the spotlight while Xó seemed to crave the opposite. The idea was just that, an idea, probably just her thinking out loud but it did spark some interest in his chest. “I… haven’t. Until right now.” He smiled, toying with the idea. It would definitely be a point of conversation at work. Maybe even a… confidence boost. “I mean, knowing me I’ll think about it and postpone it until the end of time since I’m not great at spontaneity but it would be fun.”

Nodding along to her explanation, Zane finally raised his cup towards her with a soft smile. “Then let me say that the town is all the better for your return.”

—-

“Well, that’s high praise considering we’ve only just met, but I’ll still take it.” It was easy to like Zane, and it made Xóchitl all the more grateful that someone like him was in the medical field. She knew from direct experience how unfortunately rare that was, and even if she normally just did her best to get through the day without having to interact too much with anybody else. Mostly because work friendships weren’t really her thing. In fairness, friendships of any sort weren’t really… her thing. Despite the fact that if anybody wanted to prove the contrary, they had plenty of evidence to do so. 

She couldn’t help but smile at his smile, and find a certain sort of childlike charm in all of this. Which was a nice change of pace, and even if she wasn’t going to explicitly say so to Zane, Xóchitl could show him with her words and expressions that she in fact enjoyed this, and it was nice to talk to someone where the only possible underlying goal was friendship. 

“I mean, we could do it today.” She smirked and raised an eyebrow. “That would make for a story to tell, don’t you think?” Xóchitl nodded, “no pressure, obviously, but if you want to do it, I’m down. This sort of spontaneity doesn’t hurt anybody and can just be plain old fun, so if you’re down, I’m down.”

She tapped her cup against his. “Well, again, you’re very kind to say such a thing.”

—-

It had been way too long since he’d been in company this comfortable, this stress free. He was meeting people, sure, but Emilio was… Emilio, things were still always a bit tense with Jonas, being around Chris just made him inherently awkward and that last meeting with Wynne had been alright but not… good. Zane would have been tempted to somehow slip in the fact that Xóchitl was gorgeous and kind but far from his type if not for the fact that she seemed to be on the exact same wavelength. An honest to god friend date. Even if this would end up being just a one time thing, he was grateful for it all the same.

Even if this sudden change in conversation was making him a little jittery. 

“Really?” he chuckled, somewhere between nervous and giddy at the thought. Zane did want to make sure Xó had a fun afternoon and he had mentioned that getting outside his comfort zone would be a good thing. “I mean, everywhere is probably booked for the day and I’m guessing this sort of thing probably takes a while and you have places to be…” He trailed off, realizing how gloomy this all sounded. “You know what, yeah. Let’s do it. Or at least try. Worst case, we can get one of those box dyes and hope my hair doesn’t fall off.”

—-

It was nice to just be able to talk to someone. Of course, she had people like Emilio, and like Jade, and Wyatt and maybe even that strange musician, Conor. But to have something fall into it all as easily as this was? Absolutely brilliant. Xóchitl would’ve used the word magical if it didn’t seem preposterous to use. Though Zane did have a pretty ideal sort of magic presence around him.

“Yes really! I don’t usually do things I don’t want to do. Plus, you’re a lot of fun.” Except she could practically feel the cloud that covered him, which only made Xóchitl all the more keen to go out and do it. “Yes! Good. Let’s do it! We can try box dye, or I’m happy to bribe any salon into finding an opening for us.” A mischievous twinkle appeared behind her eye. “It’s really up to you, but I’m absolutely and totally down for anything you want to do. Proud of you for suggesting something that’s a bit wild but also very fun and safe.” Because she didn’t want her possible-new-maybe-friend to get hurt (or die) on their very first hangout.

She didn’t want him to ever get hurt (or die), but it would be especially awful if it all happened at the very start of everything.

—-

Her excitement was so contagious, there was no ignoring it. Zane couldn’t help but wonder if this is what it would have been like to grow up with siblings - well, have siblings and a normal childhood, maybe. Being blood didn’t matter, that much he’d learned over the years. His found family might have been a bit strange at the moment, an odd assembly of such different people that it was a wonder he could care so much about all of them. Maybe Xóchitl could fit in there, be another reason this town wasn’t quite as awful as it regularly attempted to be. 

So yeah, his breath hitched a little when she said she was proud of him for something as silly as this, and it was probably a bit weird that he already felt needlessly protective of her. It didn’t matter because right now, they had a hair salon to find. “Heck yeah.” Smiling, Zane felt light as he dug out some cash to leave as a tip, bumping his shoulder fondly into Xó’s as they moved for the door. 

[oopsallfanfic]

Happy Halloween!!!

A/N: I did some research and Halloween is celebrated in Japan during the summer (August/September) as a celebration of the spirits and then in the fall (October) as a huge costume party! They don't really go trick or treating but we won't be doing that today.

Warning: This short story will contain depictions of underaged drinking

You pat down the black tulle skirt and straightened up your blouse, the deep cut felt revealing but that's what you wanted. It was time to grab Todoroki’s attention, you thought surely one of you had to make a move soon after months of back and forth. Your thoughts and insecurities ran wild, spiraling as you kept questioning yourself.

Was my skirt too short? Maybe Shoto hasn't made a move cause he isn't interested? Then why would be give me chocolates? My thighs are showing an awful lot, is that okay? Oh, I'm so confused and anxious now. I can't possibly wear this, my breasts look provocative, what kind of message is that going to send to my classmates? What kind of message is that going to send to him?

You put a hand to your chest and took a deep breath, the warmth of your palm giving you a sense of calm. No, no. Don't do this, don't freak out at the last minute. You didn’t want to chicken out so soon, you had already promised Jiro you'd be there, and she's super nervous about this party too. She had come up to you earlier this morning, something was clearly on her mind the way she looked down at her hands and feet, her mind seemed to be clouded. Jiro asked you if you were going to the party, at the time you weren't quite sure yet, but when she said she might not go because she was nervous you knew the two of you had to be each other's support buddy going in. Tonight you and Jiro would walk in that party together and stay as long as you possibly could. You knew that wasn’t all that was on her mind though, but you didn’t want to pressure her into telling you the real reason why she didn't want to go to the party. Even after you agreed to go with her, she still seemed uneasy. You stared at yourself in the mirror, the black tulle skirt cinched around your waist creating an hourglass effect on your body. You paired it with a black low-cut frilly blouse with a deep v only connected by strands tied into a bow, as well as long knee-high black and orange striped socks, with a black witch hat with an orange bow. You finished up the look with some orange eyeshadow, thick eyeliner, mascara, black matte lipstick, and tiny little eyeliner hearts on your cheekbones. As you stood back from your mirror you shook your head, trying hard to resist the urge to take a makeup wipe and just wipe it all off. Your thoughts began to spiral again, I can't do it, I can't go out to that party looking like this, no one can possibly make me go out now- A gentle ping brought you out of the spiral, your phone screen was alight with a single text notification.

Jiro: You ready? I'm a couple of minutes away from your place.

You started a couple of messages with "I'm not feeling good.", "I don't think I can go anymore.", and "My outfit got ruined at the dry cleaners.". You deleted your last message and threw the phone on your bed. Frustrated with yourself, you decided to grab your things and make your way downstairs before you could have a moment to change your mind. You tucked your things into your waistband as you shuffled down the steps of your home, dreading the moments that led up to going to the party. You thought maybe if you walked really quickly without thinking, your brain wouldn’t catch up to what you were doing and then you could go to the party. It was wishful thinking on your part because as soon as you went to grab your loafers your resolve began to crumble. Before you could chicken out, you pulled your phone out to message Jiro. If you sent a message implying you were going, then you had to go. Right?

Me: I'm heading out the door right now, I just need to put on my shoes.

You stepped into a pair of black platform loafers and laced them up, stuffing your phone in your handbag on its hook. The remainder of your belongings found their way into your bag, shouldering it on as you began to make for the door. As you opened up the door you were greeted by Jiro, who was preparing to ring the doorbell.

"Ope!" She muttered in surprise.

"Hey, Jiro!" You said with feigned enthusiasm and a sigh. "Ready to go?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Jiro said, matching your energy.

Standing outside the Yaoyorozu Residence felt surreal. It doesn't matter how many times you had been invited over for study groups, tea parties, or just to hang out, you could never get used to being outside such a nice and huge home. You walked in with Jirou expecting everything to be quiet and calm with typical Halloween decorations. Instead, you found black lights mounted on the molding highlighting the neon decorations on the walls. Fake spider webs hang convincingly above in the space between the ceiling and the walls. Music was bumping from everywhere, including the formal sitting room. It looked like everyone from your year was there, and then some. The place was crowded with students from U.A. that you recognized. Your eyes did a quick survey of the land to see if I could find Izuku or Iida hanging around but didn't seem to find them immediately.

While you were distracted, Momo snuck up on you and Jirou who had also been admiring the decorations. Momo jumped up behind the two of you as you peeked into the parlor, screaming boo and slamming her hands on your back. The two of you jumped and turned to see the mischievous gleam in her eyes, she giggled and settled into a wide grin.

"(Y/N)! Jiro!" Momo beamed, "I'm so glad you two could make it!"

"I'm glad we could too!" Jiro feigned an excited tone, she still seemed a little anxious but about as equally excited.

"We have snacks and drinks in the kitchen, and more in the dining room. If you're looking for different kinds of drinks," Momo said slyly, shoving a thumb in the direction of the next room, "There's some in the living room."

"Uh, Momo, can you show me to the bathroom again?" Jiro asked, "Your home is so big I always forget where it's at."

"Of course!" Our gracious host exclaimed. The pair walked off together, leaving you alone at the entrance hall of Momo’s home.

You waded your way through the crowd and found yourself in the living room. Maybe some people I'd know would be there, I could think of a handful of people that would probably be drinking alcohol, You thought. As you made your way past a handful of familiar faces from other classes, you greeted them and swiftly moved on. You looked around the living room to find a majority of your classmates, including Izuku and Uraraka. Izuku was sitting on the arm of the couch trying to maintain his balance with an orange plastic cup in his hand. Uraraka sat opposite him in a loveseat, quietly sipping on her purple plastic cup while gazing at him with a sparkle in her eye. Katsuki was sprawled out on a wide plush armchair about the size of a loveseat sipping from his cup as Kirishima, sitting on the arm of his chair, talked to him loudly about who knows what. Kirishima looked up and over at you as you rushed towards them. Normally you wouldn't do anything like this, throwing yourself into the arms of a boy, but Katsuki was the only one you felt doing that kind of stuff with. The two of you were close-no, best friends. Obviously, you’d be comfortable goofing off with him. Kirishima jumped out of the way as you threw yourself and landed in Katsuki's lap. The impact of your body against his made him drop some of his drink on the two of you. You laughed as he looked down at you in his lap with a sneer.

"Hey, Kacchan!" You teased him with the pet name, as you fidgeted around to be in a more comfortable position. You were still in his lap with your legs dangling over the arm of the couch, so his face looked strange looking down on you the way he was. "Looks like you’ve been pretty thirsty."

"You owe me another one, asshole." Katsuki shook his head with a twinge of a smile. You smiled back and nodded.

"Absolutely, that only seems fair," You picked yourself up from his lap and got off the couch, leaving your palm out to him to pull him up with you, "Let's go get you that... What were you drinking?" You pulled your hand back and pulled the blouse to your nose trying to detect the beverage from the smell.

"It was just Fruit Punch," Katsuki said as you smelled the shirt. "It's in the kitchen, come on."

The two of you wadded through the crowd and found your way over to the kitchen. You grabbed a cup and poured the two of you some punch.

"So what are you supposed to be?" Katsuki asked, sipping on his drink as he eyed your outfit. His tongue and throat stung as the alcohol trailed down, between his last cup of juice and now someone had spiked the punch. Katsuki’s lips twitched at the sudden taste and thought to warn you until he remembered you dropped your juice on the two of you just moments before.

"I'm a witch, I just kind of threw it together last minute." You said, tugging on the edge of the skirt and flattening it back out. The edge of the cup teased your lips, but you drew it back down as you fiddled with your outfit. Katsuki drew a breath as he waited patiently for you to drink your beverage. "It was either that or maybe my hero costume, I thought that'd be funny."

"Your new one or the old one?" Katsuki leaned back against the counter, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Ah you do pay attention," You said with a smirk, "The new one, of course."

"I like that one a lot more than your first one," Katsuki said, his eyes flashing between you and the cup in your hand as it raised to your lips finally. "I think it's more, you, ya know?"

"I guess, yeah," You shrugged as you took a swig of the punch. You gagged as you swallowed the fruit punch, the beverage burning your throat as it went down. "Oh this is, someone did something to this."

Katsuki laughed at you as he took on another swig of the punch, "Yeah of course they did, it's a high school Halloween party. We may be growing up to be heroes but we got to have a little fun somewhere in there."

You shook your head and continued drinking the punch more slowly. "Anyways, have you seen Shoto?"

"Nah, not yet," Katsuki said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice. "I don't think he's going to show up though."

"Why's that?" You asked.

"I remember him mentioning something like his family only celebrates in the summer," Katsuki shrugged, "He probably doesn't celebrate, like, the American Halloween or whatever you want to call it."

"Oh," You said with a tinge of disappointment in your voice. The last half of the spiked punch went smoothly down as you chugged the remainder, "Well, looks like I'm empty."

You filled the cup up more than you should've and knocked back most of the punch before Katsuki could reach over and pull it back some. You stopped drinking and looked at him, not saying a word. You didn't want him to know how disappointed you were that Shoto wasn't there. You’ll see him at school this week but you wanted to talk to him about something.

"Hey, want to go back to the others? We were going to play truth or dare before you came storming in, screaming like a banshee." Katsuki said sarcastically.

"Yeah, let's go back," You rolled your eyes and gave him a smirk.

"So, Uraraka, Truth or Dare?" Mina said across from her on the big couch.

"Um, I'm going with dare." Uraraka said boldly, sitting up straight with a determined look in her eye.

"I dare you too..." Mina looked around the room, her eyes glistening once she spotted an untouched karaoke machine in the corner nearest to the fireplace. "I dare you to sing in front of everyone!"

"Oh-I-uh, don't know anymore, can I change to the truth?" Uraraka stuttered.

"Nope! You gotta sing in front of everyone!" Mina said, "Once you've picked that's it! Now go!"

Uraraka's eyes flashed around the group and landed on Izuku, the nervous look in her eyes only got worse. Quickly you stood up and made your way over to her, you couldn’t let her do it alone, especially when she looked scared to death.

"I'll do it with you, come on," You whispered low enough that only she could hear. "Don't worry if it's bad, he's going to love it anyways."

Uraraka's eyes locked into yours, she looked even more scared now. "How'd you kno-"

"It's a little obvious to everyone else," You eyed the circle of peers, "To him maybe not, but to be honest, and I don't know if I should tell you this or not, he used to have a little crush on you when we started this year."

Her cheeks turned red, but a smile grew on her face. The two of you made your way over to the karaoke machine and started searching for a song. The two of you settled on a pretty widely know older 80s pop song, one you hoped would appease the masses if all else went wrong. As the two of you sang your hearts out in the typical karaoke fashion, everyone laughed, clapped, and cheered you on. It wasn't bad singing, but it wasn't exactly good. You looked over to Katsuki who had a small grin on his face. You made an ugly face at him as you sang and he flicked you off with his free hand.

Once the song finished Uraraka and you joined your friends back on the couches. It was Uraraka's turn to ask a question, as her eyes flashed around everyone in the group she landed on you. Oh god, come on, please nothing stupid hard or embarassing. You thought. I just helped you.

"Akina," Uraraka said, "Truth or Dare?"

"Hum, Truth," I sighed, better than dare, what could she possibly ask me that would make me regret this?

"Is it true that you have a crush on Todoroki Shoto?" Uraraka said. You felt as if your head was burning up from the dozen eyes staring. Next to you Katsuki tensed up, his stomach lurching in anticipation for your answer. Surely everyone didn't already know I had a crush on him, right? Was it that obvious? You thought, looking up at everyone, then to Uraraka.

"Yes, it is," You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest.

"I knew it!" Mina shouted, she stood up abruptly, her cup raised and a finger pointed at you. She pulled her hand back in a tight fist against her chest, "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"

"Oh calm down," You rolled your eyes and Mina plopped back down in her seat, giggling to herself. You wanted desperately to move on from the embarassing question and began to look around at your group and found the next victim, Izuku, this could be good. "Izuku, Truth or Dare?"

"I-uhm," He said nervously looking around the room, "I thought I wasn't playing."

"Nope! You're sitting in the circle so you have to play!" Mina said. Izuku looked a little nervous but drank the rest of his punch and looked a little better.

"I choose dare." Izuku said finally.

"Alright, I dare you to kiss Uraraka." You said with no hesitation, a smirk growing on your lips.

Everyone began to laugh and cheer them on. Yoh could feel Uraraka's eyes burning holes in the back of your head, meanwhile Izuku just blushed and shrugged. He seemed a little more confident after drinking his punch, which is probably why he agreed to dare. Izuku stood up and made his way over to Uraraka, she didn't move as Izuku bent down and kissed her on the forehead. Everyone booed him as he turned and gave us a thumbs up.

"What? No!" You laughed at him, "Come on! I meant on the lips!"

"No, you said to kiss her," Izuku argued.

"Yeah, on the lips-"

"No, you didn't say where."

"Oh come on, just do it Izuku!" Mina intervened.

"Oh, no, no," He said waving his hands at us as if to dismiss us. Just then Uraraka stood up abruptly, she pushed Izuku's arms down and grabbed his cheek, turning his face to hers. Uraraka stood on her toes, bringing her face up to his for a kiss on the lips. As they pulled away most of the group all cheered and clapped. A shocked Izuku made his way back to his chair, his face red and eyes glossed over.

"Well looks like he's not going to be with us for a while." You said.

"Oh!" Mina raised her hand, "Can I ask a question in place of him!"

You shrugged and gestured for her to start.

"Okay, um," Her eyes landed on Sero who was sitting on the arm of the couch she sat in. "Sero, Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," His face broke out into a wide grin, his arms crossed over his puffed out chest.

"I dare you to order us pizza!" Mina said.

"What, no!" Sero's grin dropped, "Do you know how much that'll cost?"

"Okay fine, just," Mina looked around at us and counted on her fingers. "2 or 3 pizzas then."

"Fine," Sero rolled his eyes as he grabbed his wallet and phone out of his pocket.

It was well after midnight, that's when you knew that Shoto wasn't coming. Upset and frustrated, you found yourself drinking more and more. You danced with Izuku who was also about as drunk as you were, sang some with Momo and Mina, and grinded on Iida who was trying to push you off gently. Iida was the designated mom for the night, making sure that you all drank water and didn't do anything too stupid. At one point you recalled running off with Katsuki and Kirishima to the second story balcony to watch Kirishima throw himself off of it. Claiming something about being manly and tough for surviving such a drop.

You felt your stomach turn and your mouth salivate as bile began to tickle your throat. You looked up to Katsuki and sprinted towards the nearest restroom, his bellies feeling in concern as your face twisted. He followed you as you sprinted down the hall to the nearest bathroom, dropping to your knees with you as you stuck your head into the toilet bowl. Katsuki pulled your hair back and rubbed your back as the contents of your stomach made a swift exit.

When your stomach felt empty, you reached up and flushed the toilet, sitting back on your heels with hands clinging to the edge of the bowl. Katsuki sat back and looked at you, his eyes having never left you in the first place. You felt dizzy so he just looked like 2 people sitting against the wall. You held a hand out to him in an attempt to solidify him right in front of yourself. Katsuki grabbed your hand holding it close to himself, he felt surprisingly soft as he pulled you close to him. The two of you both sat there on your knees, your head resting on his shoulder and arms wrapped around his back in a loose hug. His chin rested on top of your head with his arms wrapped around waist.

"You're a good friend Katsuki," You said, your words slurred as they came out, "You've been there for me a lot, and I want to thank you for that."

"I wanted to talk to you about that actually," He said. He gripped your shoulders gently and holding you out, both of you sat back on the heels of your feet. There was a look in his eye that you didn't quite recognize, he looked hurt but unsure, and at the same time nervous.

"What is it?" You asked.

"I've never found a good way to tell you, (y/n)," Katsuki said, you nodded slowly trying to follow along with him. "I like you, like a lot."

"I-uhm, what do you mean? I don't understand?" You said, shaking your head side to side.

"I mean that I like you as more than a friend," He said, he brought up his hand to cup your cheek. You brushed his hand aside, stopping his affectionate touch. You didn't know what to think, for so long you thought of him only as a good friend and nothing more. The two of you had been so close for so long that you didn't know how to react to this. You stood up slowly on shaky legs. He began to stand with you but you put a hand out to stop him.

"I need a second alone, to think," You mumble and exited the bathroom to the hallway.

"(y/n), wait, let me-" Katsuki said.

"No, it's okay really," You interrupted, "I just need to sort through some things in my head, okay?"

You made your way out of the restroom and found the nearest bedroom. Opening up the door and flipping on the lights to reveal Momo and someone else kissing in her bed. You didn’t realize you walked right up to her bedroom door on instinct. As you began to step back the other person on her bed turned to face the door. Momo and Jiro were kissing. Oh my god. Oh shit. What do I do? Do I back away and say nothing? Do I stay? What's the protocol? You thought frantically.

You stepped back, turned the lights off, then shut the door behind yourself. Your back found the solid wall next to the door, feet sliding against the hardwood as you slid down the wall. Lost in your train of thought, you didn't notice Momo and Jiro had stepped out. They squatted down in front of you, a hand on a shoulder and a knee. A worried glance passed between the two, and you knew what they were going to say.

"I won't tell, I promise," You said, you felt more sober now than you did coming in. "I know neither of you are really out to anyone, so I'll just keep this to myself."

"Thank you," Jiro sighed.

"Thank you, (y/n)," Momo said, "We're just worried how everyone will take it, you know? We don't want to lose any friends over this."

"Why would you say something like that?" Your face scrunched up in confusion, "If you lose friends over something like this then they were not your friends to begin with."

"I think we're also just worried about you-know-who asking too many questions," Jiro added, referring to a certain grape-headed young man.

"Oh, yeah," You muttered, "I can see that now. I promise I won't tell a soul though."

"Thank you, seriously," Jiro smiled. A thought clicked in your head as she did.

"Wait, is this why you were nervous about tonight?" I gasped, "Were you two going to, you know? Oh my god!"

"No! No, no!" Jiro waved me off, "I was nervous because I was going to tell Momo how I felt for the first time."

"Ooh," You said, understanding the situation finally. It only made you think of Katsuki though, sitting alone in the restroom just down the hall. Jiro and Momo exchanged a look when your face dropped and head hung low.

"Hey, are you okay, (y/n)?" Momo asked.

"That seems to be your catchphrase," You mumbled as you picked at the end of your skirt, she had said it too many times to count by now. "Katsuki said he liked me, like, asmore than a friend."

"I know that, what'd you say?" Jiro said.

"Wait, what do you mean you know?" You whispered harshly, afraid he’d overhear the conversation from the restroom.

"Like, I know that he likes you." Jiro said, "It's pretty obvious, the only other person he's as nice to, other than you, is Kirishima."

"Leave her alone," Momo said, nudging her side. "She obviously didn't know."

"Well, no, I think I had thought that maybe he did." You said slowly, "But then I started spending a lot more time with Shoto. What should I do?"

"Men always make a mess of things, don't they?" Jiro said, nudging Momo with her elbow.

"Why would you say that to her?" Momo nudged her back with a harsh look in her eyesdi, "Look, Akina, you do what you feel is right in your heart. I don't want to force my opinion on you, but Katsuki has obviously liked you for a long time."

You simply nodded and stared down at your feet, "I think it's best I go home now," You stood up slowly, "I'll see you guys at school, okay?"

"Text us when you get home, okay?" Momo asked.

"Of course," You said, giving her a kind smile, "Thanks for the party."

As you began making your way toward the stairs, you saw Katsuki step out of the bathroom. Your eyes locked momentarily before turning your gaze. At the top of the steps you hesitated, his eyes never leaving your body.

“Kacchan,” you said softly, staring down the stairs. “Can you take me home?”

You held out a hand to him, the look on your face was uncertain but the smile you had was soft and sweet. Katsuki walked over to you and looped an arm around yours, his warmth radiating against your side.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

[nirikeehan]

hi I am obviously going to ask you for Thalia & Pravin, from the horror prompts: "At a costume party, you see someone whose mask looks a little too real." (interpret as you like!)

omg ok this one marinated in the old brainpan for AWHILE.

Also I confess I ended up writing a long preamble to hammer out the parameters of the mission the blorbos are on in this scene, which I'm not gonna post here but it will end up on ao3 eventually when I put this together as some sort of larger masquerade-themed side quest fic.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1985

Also featuring a little Thalia/Blackwall AND Thalia/Cullen

---

Thalia flitted from room to room, taking stock of the Comte de Valette’s so-called cottage: high ceilings, ornate furniture, grand floor-to-ceiling windows with balconies that overlooked Lake Celestine. Dusk was falling, and the myriad colors of the setting sun reflected in the calm lake waters, a contrast to the atmosphere inside. 

Upon gaining entrance to de Valette’s estate, Thalia knew the evening would be anything but dull. The chateau had three stories, and the marble entry where she and her retinue announced their presence spilled into a half a dozen rooms. These in turn opened into nooks, hallways, staircases, and courtyards of all sizes and shapes, creating a veritable labyrinth. The seneschal who took her cloak encouraged “creative exploration” of the chateau and its grounds. No, the Comte could not at this moment greet her in person, but rest assured he would meet her before the night was through. 

The lights were down low, the mood up high. Every room Thalia stepped into had at least one musician playing. In one, a lone woman sat by a winding staircase and plucked a high harp; her full face mask, as well as her hat, sleeves and skirts were decorated with bright, fake flowers. In another, a man in the widest pantaloons Thalia had ever seen stood beneath a flickering chandelier and played a bawdy tune while party-goers danced around him. His pantaloons, as well as his ridiculously puffy sleeves, glowed in pastels complementary to his get-up. Some minor practical enchantment he could have had done cheaply, Thalia gauged, or else the fool had stuffed himself with deep mushrooms. 

Activities, as far as Thalia could see, ranged from imbibing alcohol — one courtyard sported a bar, from which bare-faced servants hurriedly poured wine, ale, and stronger spirits into goblets — to smoking in a private perfumery, to mummery on a dozen improvised stages. It was difficult to tell whether the performers were all strictly hired for the party — everyone was costumed and masked, and for every professional grade performance, another stumbling drunk took the stage at the insistence of another, to spout lyrics off-key or half-remembered lines from popular plays. 

Yet for a night that promised to be both wondrous and strange, Thalia had seen little more than the mundane. Oh, to be sure, the costumes were a sight to behold. She couldn’t go more than a few steps without bumping into a woman with a miniature ship replica sailing out of the stacks of her headdress, or a man so elaborately masked, with painted lips and full black eyes, that one mask evidently was not enough, and he carried another with an even more intricate pattern in his hand. In case he lost the first, Thalia wondered? And the costumes: the miles and miles of fabric, the ostentatious flourishes, the feathers, the tiny gemstones sparkling from hemlines, the veils and the bows and the capes… 

It made her feel a little dizzy, and woefully underdressed, but none of it seemed to Thalia to be magic. She’d only seen one display that looked authentic, though the mage in question stuck to minor parlor tricks any acolyte out of single digits could manage. The crowd oohed and aahed all the same, but Thalia wondered if party magicians were difficult to come by now that they were free to charge any fee they wished. 

Thalia turned a corner into a dark corridor, and nearly plowed into a wall of solid black. She reared, grasping for an apology, when she saw the beaked griffon mask over a long forked beard, and her heart skipped a beat. 

“Warden Blackwall,” she said. “Forgive me. I didn’t see you there.”

“My lady,” Blackwall grunted, unmoving. 

Thalia stared up at him. The mask obscured most of his face, ending in an array of brown feathers framing his temples — a piece he had literally scoffed at when presented to him, but he’d donned all the same. She could barely see the hard scowl under his beard, the one it seemed he’d been wearing ever since the night he kissed her. 

Thalia swallowed and lowered her voice, determined not to let their troubled history jeopardize this mission. “Have you seen anything suspicious?”

“Not as of yet. Loads of privileged nobles, pissed out of their minds. But what did you expect with this lot?” Disdain dripped from every word. 

Thalia pressed her lips together, trying to think of a delicate response. Had Blackwall’s hatred for the aristocracy always been so apparent, or did he hold special enmity for the Orlesians? She thought of reminding him that she herself was highborn — but he couldn’t have forgotten that, not with his impeccable courtesies. Is that why he treats me so coldly? Did something between us remind him of the difference in our stations, and his pride won’t allow him to pursue a lady?

It was no use speculating. She lifted her chin and opened her mouth, but words failed her. She caught the barest glint of his grey eyes from behind the holes in his mask, and realized the intensity with which he’d been watching her, from the light filigreed half-mask to the neckline of her dusky scarlet gown, accentuated by the velvet green bodice that drew up under her bosom to — well. “Flattering proportions” had been Vivienne’s term for it, but she was always chiding Thalia for not properly taking advantage of her Maker-given assets. 

Thalia felt herself blush down to her toes. 

“I — ought to be going,” she blurted, and side-stepped the Grey Warden with as much grace as she could manage. 

She cursed internally with every stride; at her own childishness and stupidity, at never knowing what to say to Blackwall to get him to open up, at the fluttering in her stomach and the certainty that he still desired her while somehow simultaneously loathing every inch of her. 

She stepped out of the dark corridor and into a room where light trickled down strangely from the ceiling. Thalia looked up; dozens of tiny butterfly-shaped lanterns floated above her head, radiating purple and blue and pink. Perhaps another enchantment, or just excellent craftsmanship — in Orlais, who knew? 

Thalia was relieved to see Pravin standing against a pillar below this display, half-hidden by shadows. He saw her and slid in beside her in an instant. Her cousin fully embodied his stage persona of Fidencio Frye this evening, wearing a doublet so purple it glowed black, hemmed with silver thread. The green half-mask of the Orlesian theatre obscured his eyes beneath the wide-brimmed hat. 

“How is it going?” he asked low in her ear, taking her gently by the elbow; to any observer he might be an admirer, appealing to the masked-but-not-quite-masked-enough-to-be-anonymous Inquisitor. This was by design; she was intended to be the mouthpiece for this evening, though the company thus far had been abysmal. 

“I’m starting to worry this is a waste of time,” Thalia replied, stifling a sigh. She tried to banish the encounter with Blackwall from her mind. “No eyes on de Valette, I take it?” 

“None yet. No way he’s been missed, either; my agents are quite thorough.”

“Leliana’s agents,” Thalia correctly primly. 

With his face cast in darkness from his hat, she could sense, rather than see, his smirk. “They are answering to me, so tonight they are mine.” He paused, looking down at his hand on her arm. “Are you all right?” 

He must feel how tense she was. Thalia pulled away, straightening. “Fine.” 

Pravin cocked his head, but said no more. Thalia suppressed a shiver. She could not understand how he’d lived in Orlais all these years, with everyone hiding their faces behind cold, dead masks. The guests in the room with them, tittering about the butterfly lights and whispering gossip to each other, all had the telltale white porcelain that froze their faces, making it impossible to guess who might be underneath.

“Have you seen the others?” Thalia had been making the rounds earlier with Dorian, the two of them laying the charm on thick with the guests, but after awhile had decided they would cover more ground if they split up. 

“The sartorial delight that is Lord Pavus was just here,” Pravin replied, nodding in the direction Dorian had gone. “And I believe the Commander is two rooms adjacent, clutching the hilt of his sword and hoping a fight might break out so he can be useful.” He stroked his chin beard and added, “You should go say hi.”

“Please.” The last thing Thalia wanted right now was another awkward encounter with a man. Cullen had been staunchly avoiding eye contact with her since the carriage ride here — perhaps also because of her flattering proportions? Thalia resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. “I think we’ve bigger concerns here than your matchmaking attempts.” 

“He was very keen on accompanying you here tonight, you know, despite his protestations.” 

Thalia wanted to smack the grin off Pravin’s face, but such behavior hadn’t done her any favors as a child, either. She averted her gaze, staring out the balcony door and into a terrace covered with ivy. A woman in a glittering gold dress stood amid the foliage, staring directly at Thalia. At first she thought the woman shrouded in darkness, and that was why Thalia could not make out her face. But upon closer inspection, the woman wore a full face mask of purest black. No features were visible, just a deep, dark, inescapable void. Thalia felt herself being pulled forward, entranced. As she stared, the din around her faded away, and all that seemed to exist was the woman and her facelessness, the eyes boring out, shining out, beckoning her—

A tendril of darkness snaked outward from the mask, reaching through the air toward Thalia, intent to wrap around her wrist and pull gently, ever so gently… 

A hand took her shoulder, and Thalia jumped, jolting herself free of whatever had taken hold. Pravin turned her to face him, concern seeping through his own masked visage. “Thalia? Are you all right?”

“Did you see that woman?” Thalia asked, pointing to the terrace. A wisp of gold skirts slipped under the hanging ivy, disappearing from view. 

“I think— perhaps—” Pravin started, interrupted by Thalia as she lurched through the balcony door. “Hey!” Pravin ran to catch up, keeping pace beside her. Thalia stalked toward the wall of ivy, her heart hammering. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?” 

“Her mask, Pra— Fidencio. It was… too real.” Thalia stared him in the eye, her voice a fierce whisper. “Powerful illusion magic, I think. She was using it to call to me.” 

Pravin was frowning deeply, glancing this way and that. The courtyard was deserted, the stars above them bright and cold. “And you think it is a good idea to follow her?” 

Thalia ducked under the hanging ivy. The space beneath was empty; it was simply an awning where the courtyard buttressed the stone exterior of the chateau. In the far wall, however, stood a door, behind which glowed a soft golden light. 

“I think she went this way,” Thalia breathed. 

“I repeat my question,” Pravin huffed, disentangling ivy from the feather in his hat. 

“Experimenting with the dark arts, isn’t that what Leliana said the Comte de Valette was known for?” 

“And? I don’t see what that has to do with chasing a sorceress through hidden doors. I’ll send some agents in, and then we—”

“It will be too late if we wait,” Thalia argued, her hand reaching for the knob. “Turn back if you like. If I hurry I can still catch her.” 

“Wait.” Pravin snatched her wrist, leaning in close. With his free hand he produced his stiletto blade from the hidden sheath strapped to his thigh. “There is absolutely no chance, from here to the Fade itself, that I am letting you go alone.” 

[afghanprincess69]

so much has transpired, so much from the hopes drawn to me after marc came back on a saturday/sunday only to find him too tired for me, but not too tired to be at a party wednesday then my raving. ending up raving and seeing all my friends saturday a lovely afternoon with daniela, that ended with my slight meltdown with eric, over nothing. Then I understand, I must always always give the right of way. it's much easier just to yield. (he caught me on a bad day - a hung over day.) Then mystical musings. marc's ex bikes by me on a bicycle i'm 100% sure. Shes beyond lean. petite, just from a glance ravishing and with an air. with a definite "I own this" air, as those rarified white girls have. immaculately toned arms, and the stance down pat on the bicycle. a tiny tight lyrcra athetlc shirt. egoistic immaculate perfectionist personified. no wonder marc's so hung up. I think of all the ways I wish to be her. Then I realize, I am her. I too am a rarified queen. I hold myself to my standards, not so much of status quo (which they do,) but braver my own. far braver. I think of the ways they are so well suited. they are people of the material realm. she thinks nothing of the weeknd being allowed to kill people, simply by virtue of his voice. reign of ego. He thinks nothing of proclaiming that people who watch artsy movies are better than those who do not. reign of ego. they are utterly stupid, simple people. deep in their insecurities of fatness, glorifying anorexia and dieting, and their constructed selves in the world. deeply invested in the status quo. deeply. I marvel at how well my tummy is doing after a night of raving. I must have lost 5-10 pounds in stress alone. Then I realize, the boyfriend is the egoic helm upon which soothes my soulful, female essence. And the egoic realm is exactly too- that which saves my tummy. Deep in a movie, tattoo, vacation, rave FRIENDS -booze helps - life worth living - deep with a man too. There I swim free and safe. Egoic safety - so I resolve to align myself there. In each waking moment - may I align myself with the world, for I am just a ball of light, I must make the most of the egoic realm while i am here, inspired by the imbeciles and playing their game (while they cannot play mine.) The tummy compass points there. I am happiest there. Where a breath in- the effort lies, before I return to base - a breath out, released simply by the force of gravity upon me. I am gravity - the effort lies in the breath IN. which I must take - everyday everyday with conviction. This will save me. Then I walk the twilight humid halls of the plateau, the mile end, I marvel, I marvel at the bloom and green fecund swells of so many tropical plant forms. I think more and more - could I really trust myself to settle down with Dom, when I crave in a man so much more? a man, not only nurturing and wise, but with a penchant for athletics. a penchant for mysticism. a sensual man. I did not find Dom very sensual. I come to parc and bernard in the blue twilight, and look upon so many islamic white robes, hats and hijabs, all gathered outside their convention at the rialto on my left. I think of my proximity to my people, their poetry and astronomy. I think of the whole microcosm of my culture, just a few thousand kilometers more eastern, and I revel in the scape of things. And I believe, on such a blue blush twilight, that what I'm looking for is also looking for me. Like for instance, that man waiting for the light across from me, on the otherside of parc. My instinct says single. My instinct says sexy, my type - defintely. And he walks past and gives me a distinct hard look, -- I lock eyes for a moment, hopefully with the impression of a shadow of a smile - to his easy one. And my dark dark makeup-less, sleep-less eyes after the rave. Well, he was not put off by my raccoon look, he was drawn, and I was drawn, and so I think of him. I think of the world.

[silver-tongued-bby]

Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst (resolved)

A/N: hi, loves! i will be changing updates to this to once a week because i would like to get my final other WIP out that has been sitting in my drive forever and i have graduation stuff. ALSO, i hit 400 followers!!! thank you thank you <3 here is the celebration!

Masterlist

Chapter 32

“Okay, everyone ready?” Spencer asked.

“Yep,” you smiled, grabbing Jo’s hand, “Just let me get a picture first.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and faced it towards Spencer, “Smile!”

Spencer turned sideways so both babies would be visible in the photo. He was wearing one of those double baby carriers so Ophelia was strapped to his back while Ollie was up front.

You all walked out of the room and down to the parking garage while passing nurses and visitors would ‘aw’ at the adorable family that had just practically doubled in size.

“Honey, can you put Jo in her booster seat in the middle first?” Spencer asked.

“Yep, up you go, Baby J,” you helped her into her new booster seat.

On both sides of Jo were now two newborn baby car seats so she could keep the twins entertained on the car ride.

You unstrapped Ophelia from off of Spencer’s back and littered her with kisses, already missing her in your arms. You buckled her in securely as Spencer did the same to Ollie on the other side.

Spencer got in the driver’s side and you got in the passenger seat. You both turned around to look at all your little kids in the back row.

Spencer turned to look at you with a huge grin, “We’re going to need a bigger car.”

“Spencer Reid, I am not driving a mini van,” you gave him a quick peck.

“Fine, I’ll just have to steal one of the FBI’s many SUVs,” he joked.

Jo switched her attention between both babies during the car ride, giving you and Spencer a play-by-play of everything they did.

“Ophelia is trying to squirm out of her blanket so I’m tucking her back in,” she stated.

“Thank you, Princess,” Spencer smiled, rubbing soft circles on your thigh as he drove.

“Ollie’s little hat is almost falling off so I am going to put it back on.”

“Thank you, baby, you are being such a good big sister,” you complimented her.

Once Spencer pulled into the driveway, Spencer grabbed Ollie and you grabbed Ophelia out of their respective seats.

“I’ll come back for the bags in the back,” Spencer said as he walked up to open the front door.

“I wanna hold her please,” Jo made grabby hands up at you with Ophelia in your arms.

“You can hold her when you are sitting, Baby J,” you assured her, patting her head.

Jo followed you up to the nursery, Spencer’s old bedroom. You had the cribs and other basics set up but you didn’t decorate because you were hoping to be moving soon. You and Spencer put an offer down on the house near JJ and Will’s and were waiting to hear back.

“The babies are going to take a nap right now and we are going to have lunch so say night night,” you lifted Jo up to give the babies a kiss before their nap.

Spencer placed Ollie in the crib with Ophelia, “I read up on co-bedding in one of the pediatric magazines at the hospital and if the twins are small enough, having them sleep together in the same crib can provide benefits including regulating body temperatures and sleep cycles, plus it soothes them.”

You and Jo gave the babies kisses and then you grabbed the baby monitor and switched it on.

“You coming, love?” you placed your hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“One second,” he whispered, his eyes not leaving the two twins cuddled up together in one crib, “They’re just too perfect.”

-

You awoke to find Spencer in the rocking chair in your room in between the two bassinets. You had their cribs set up in the nursery for naps but they would do most of their sleeping in here with you guys until they were a few months old.

“What’s wrong? Are they hungry again?” you whispered, rubbing your eyes as you sat up.

“No, love. You can go back to bed. Ophelia was getting a little fussy which made Ollie fussy too but I think they just wanted some tummy time,” Spencer smiled softly as he had both the babies pressed to his chest.

“You are the best dad ever,” you blew him a kiss before resting your head back on the pillow.

You were lulled back to sleep by the quaint creaking of the rocking chair and Spencer’s loving whispers to the babies.

-

“Where’s Daddy?” Jo asked as you served her a bowl of oatmeal.

“He’s changing the twins. He’ll be down in a bit,” you assured her as you sat down across from her.

You watched Jo push around her oatmeal a little but not really eat any, looking up to the stairs frequently to see if her Daddy was coming down.

Spencer finally entered the kitchen with the twins, “Love, do you want to take Ollie?”

You opened your arms and accepted Ollie into your arms, “Hi, my little one!”

“Sorry it took so long. I was trying to get them properly swaddled but this princess right here was trying to escape,” Spencer grinned at the baby in front of him.

Jo pushed her still-full bowl of oatmeal towards the center of the table and scooched out of her chair, stomping slightly up the stairs.

When you heard her bedroom door close, you turned to Spencer with a disappointed look.

“Spencer, I know the twins are very exciting but you have to remember you have 3 kids, not 2. You hadn’t even said good morning to her yet.”

“I was going to!” Spencer insisted.

“And you called Ophelia ‘Princess’. That’s your nickname for Jo,” you pointed out.

Spencer sighed, he hadn’t even realized he had done that. He placed Ophelia in her bouncer seat and reheated Jo’s oatmeal. He even placed blueberries on top in the shape of a smiley face before heading upstairs.

Spencer knocked gently on the door. His guilt increased tenfold when he heard the little sniffles coming from inside.

“Jo, I know you’re mad at me and you have every right to be but may I please come in?” Spencer asked through the door.

He heard the sound of light footsteps and a teary-eyed Jo opened the door. Spencer immediately knelt to her level and set the bowl down on the floor.

“Jo, I am so sorry I made you feel forgotten because I got too wrapped in trying to take care of the twins. I promise it will never happen again. You are my only Princess, Jo. We’ll give Ophelia a different nickname.”

“I forgive you, Daddy,” Jo hugged Spencer.

“After you finish breakfast, we can do whatever you want today, Princess,” Spencer smiled.

Jo beamed as she scooped a bite of oatmeal into her mouth.

-

You knocked on Jo’s bedroom door where you heard whispers and scuffling of footsteps.

“What’s the password?” you heard Jo announce in a deep voice.

You looked down at the construction paper invitation with lots of glitter glue that was slipped under your bedroom door.

“Sunflower.”

The door opened, revealing a mini table with pillows all around it as seats. Jo’s tea set that Penelope had gotten her was beautifully arranged on the table along with little finger sandwiches and cookies.

“Oh my, how did I get so lucky to be invited to this exclusive tea party?” you smiled, “I know the invitation said ‘dress fancy’ so I hope this sundress is suitable.”

You gave Jo a little curtsy before entering. You had Ollie wrapped in a cloth baby bjorn around your front because he was taking a little nap but Ophelia was wide awake in your arms.

“You look like a Queen, Mommy!” Jo did a little twirl for you in her ruffle dress with strawberries all over it.

“So do you, my little Princess,” you smiled back.

Spencer was already seated on the floor in a full suit like he would wear to work. He shaved and slicked back his hair.

“Ah, I see the King has already arrived,” you chuckled, bending down to give him a kiss.

“Indeed, my lovely wife. I brought the bouncers up for the babies to sit in,” Spencer informed you.

You placed Ophelia in hers but kept Ollie in the bjorn because you didn’t want to disrupt his peaceful slumber.

Jo poured you all tea and Spencer added a little bit of sugar and honey to the tea cups.

“Do the babies want tea?” Jo asked, still holding her tea kettle.

“The babies can’t have tea just yet but thank you for offering,” you smiled, gently picking your cup up.

“Pinky’s up, Daddy!” Jo instructed.

It was rather comical to watch Spencer try to hold the tiny porcelain tea cup in his large hands.

“The tea is absolutely exquisite, Princess Josephine. I believe I will have one of these gourmet peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to go with it,” you smiled.

-

“I’m exhausted. Mommy needs a nap like the twins and Jo,” you chuckled as you fell back on the bed after putting the sleeping twins in their bassinets.

“Are you sure you don’t need a shower first?” Spencer questioned.

You looked at him and quirked an eyebrow.

“What? You know what your sundresses do to me,” Spencer whined.

“I guess I have a little energy left,” you grinned, grabbing his hand as you tip-toed to the bathroom to not wake the twins.

A/N: another reason i need to push the updates back is because i am going camping next week (i wish spencer could protect me from any bears)!

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @doctorreiding @reidsfish

[homoose]

Teach Me Something I Don’t Know: Part IV

Summary: The Halloween parade. Will and JJ are adorable. Anita suggests that Spencer become a classroom volunteer. Reader has a rough week.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, a smidge of angst

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 4.4k

a/n: I wish we’d seen more of Will and JJ as parents because I imagine it would be adorable and hilarious. Let’s see if you can guess all of their costumes before the reveal lmao. Your only clue is that Spencer loves keeping with a theme and the brown vest (I literally learned how to make my own shitty gif bc I couldn’t find the right one in the search and I do not understand embedding lmao) makes an appearance.

Series Masterlist

———

“Did you grab the bags?” JJ swept the pleated, platinum braid out of her face as she bent over to zip up her boots.

“No, I thought you did,” Will called, bouncing down the stairs.

“I put them in the car already,” Spencer informed them, popping his head back in the front door. “There was just the one box, right?”

“Yeah, that was it,” Will confirmed. “Shit— where’s Michael’s sword?”

“Should be on the counter,” JJ huffed, standing up and adjusting the bodice of the blue dress.

“Got it.” Will came around the corner of the kitchen, patting his hips where his pockets would be— if he weren’t wearing an adult-sized onesie. “Keys?” Spencer held them up. “All right then, let’s get this show on the road.”

The trio headed to the waiting SUV, Spencer climbing into the backseat as Will and JJ got into the front. Will and JJ chattered on about dinner plans and schedules for the following week, and Spencer smoothed down the brown wool vest layered over his white linen shirt. He’d spent entirely too long putting together the costume over the last week (with a little help from Penelope). He’d scrapped the Spock getup he’d been working on since September— he could always wear that next year. But he’d only get one chance to attend the Room 105 Halloween parade, and once the idea had wormed its way into his brain, he had to make it happen.

“Spence?” JJ’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Would you be able to pick Michael up on Monday?”

He ran his hands down his thighs over the mint green cropped trousers. “Sure, as long as we don’t have a case.”

Will smirked at him in the rear view mirror. “How’s Ms. Y/L/N?”

“You’re about to see her yourself, so you can ask,” Spencer replied.

Will laughed, and JJ turned in her seat. “Whoa, coming in hot with the snark. You really do like her.”

Spencer fought and failed to keep the blush from rising, irritation at being teased blooming sharp inside his chest. He tried to shrug as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s a great teacher.”

“That’s not a no,” JJ noted, eyebrows raised.

“She’s Michael’s teacher,” Spencer said, like it meant something.

“Yeah, so?” Will shrugged his shoulders. “You’re his godfather. Technically, you’re not related, so it wouldn’t be breakin’ any rules.”

“Well, it’s not like that, so it doesn’t really matter,” Spencer insisted.

Will hummed and JJ turned back around in her seat. Spencer drummed his fingers on his knees and watched DC roll past through the SUV window. It really wasn’t like that. Y/N was just… very nice. A nice, beautiful, sweet, silly kindergarten teacher that he couldn’t stop thinking about no matter how many books he read or coffees he drank or chess games he played.

Monday was the last day of his sabbatical, and he was even more relieved to be headed back than usual— grateful that he’d have something to occupy his mind other than her. Because his mind was, indeed, occupied. The way her smile beamed like the spotlight on a stage, illuminating whoever happened to be on the receiving end. The way her hands moved in unbound, buoyant illustrations of her thoughts. The way her laugh felt like the first warm sip of tea or the wrap of his favorite scarf. It was getting out of hand, to say the least.

Will pulled into the parking lot, and instantly Spencer’s palms began to sweat. He glanced at the headband on the seat beside him and felt the mortification clawing at his insides. The costume was ridiculous; he was ridiculous. He should have just worn the Spock outfit.

Maybe he could just wait in the car and pretend like he hadn’t been able to make it. Or he could just leave the headband in the car. But then he’d just be in mint green capris with a sweater vest and platform sandals, and she’d have absolutely no idea who he was supposed to be. Then he’d have to explain it, and it would be even worse.

Will parked the car, and he and JJ immediately stepped out. Spencer watched them near the hood of the SUV, enjoying a rare moment of co-parenting without work hovering right out of frame. Will pulled the hood of the onesie up and JJ laughed, brushing her hand over the brown fabric twigs sticking out of the top. He supposed that if Will Lamontagne, Jr. could strut his stuff in adult footie pajamas, his handmade costume was probably all right.

With one last resigned sigh, Spencer slid the headband on. He grabbed the box of Halloween treats, opened the door, and hauled himself out of the vehicle. He pushed the door closed and looked in the reflection of the window, adjusting the headband around his curls and blowing out a breath.

“Ready?” JJ called, peering around the side of the SUV.

“Yeah—yeah,” Spencer agreed. He moved around the vehicle to join them, the three of them walking to find a spot in the crowd of parents standing around the carpool loop.

When they found a suitable spot, Will looked up at him and shook his head. The sandals added three extra inches to Spencer’s height, putting him a good six inches taller than Will. “Those shoes make you look like an actual giant,” Will chuckled. “I know that’s the point, but I feel like even more of a shrimp next to ya now.”

Spencer set the box of candy bags on the ground and would have shoved his hands into his pockets if the linen trousers had any. Before he could respond, JJ pointed to the door of the school, cooing, “Oh my god, look. Remember when the boys were that small?”

The PreK classes came out first, and Spencer could acknowledge that they were very cute, barely out of the toddler stage and holding hands with a line buddy. But he was waiting on a very specific cutie.

He’d barely had the thought when the kindergarten classes started to emerge from the door. He almost didn’t recognize her at first— just an orange blob and green shrubbery. But the converse gave her away.

“How is she so cute?” JJ threaded her arm through Will’s. “Even when she’s dressed as a giant orange blob.”

“It’s a gift,” Will agreed. He glanced up at Spencer. “Right, doc?”

Spencer nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “I think so, yeah.” Will grinned and bumped JJ’s shoulder, but Spencer barely even registered his own response.

Thankfully they’d picked a spot near the very end of the loop, so he had plenty of time to get himself together before she was in front of him. While Will and JJ waved at all the tiny superheroes and princesses, he watched Y/N. She was all orange fabric from her shoulders to her knees, with bright orange Chucks to match. On her head was a strange variation on a party hat, bright green ferns sprouting from the tip of the cone and falling into her face. She looked absolutely ridiculous and entirely adorable, and he was in so much trouble.

When the class finally approached the final curve of the loop, Will nudged Spencer and gestured to the box of goodie bags. Spencer crouched down and lifted the box, standing back up to see Y/N laughing at Will and JJ. “Very cute, Lamontagne Family.”

Her gaze traveled across, then up, and then her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. Spencer wondered if maybe the earth could just open up and swallow him whole.

“Oh my god, are you—?” She stepped forward and ran her hand lightly over the vest, and he didn’t dare breathe. “Are you the BFG?!” Her hand dropped from his torso, and he didn’t have time to be disappointed before her face split into quite possibly the biggest smile he’d seen from her yet.

A tiny Superman shouted, “Ms. Y/L/N, we’re making a gap!”

Y/N came back to herself, gesturing to all three of them. “Don’t go anywhere.” She accepted the offered box of treats from Spencer and then turned to help her class catch up.

Will gave him a look. “It’s not like that, huh?”

“Oh my god, she likes you.” JJ clapped her hands together. “This is amazing.”

“I’m takin’ credit for this,” Will bragged. “I’m a regular ol’ matchmaker.”

Spencer couldn’t even be bothered to attempt a denial. He was still thinking about the feel of her palm on his chest, how it might feel to hold her hand, the way her eyes practically sparkled when she saw his ridiculous headband. He was in so much trouble.

Fifteen minutes later, the classes filed back out into the parking lot for dismissal. Y/N led the class down the sidewalk, grinning at the excitement coursing through her line. As they approached the end of the loop, Y/N caught sight of them and waved. The kids lined up in their normal spot, chatting excitedly about their costumes and candy bags.

“Lord, Ms. Y/L/N, you’re something else,” Will laughed.

“Is it not the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever seen?” She laughed and tapped the green shrubbery hanging in her face. “I have the kids do a little persuasive writing thing every year. They draw a picture and write a sentence about what they think Ms. Y/L/N should be for Halloween, and then we take a vote.”

She waved her hands in that way Spencer loved, the way that was so similar to his own. “Usually the options are pretty tame, you know—ghost, witch, bumblebee. This year was a near tie between runner-up Jojo Siwa and well,” she gestured at herself, “carrot.” Y/N cackled, and the leaves on top of her head shook with the action.

They all laughed along with her, and then JJ added, “The details are truly incredible. Is this an actual plant on your head?”

“I really thought about it,” Y/N laughed, “but no, it’s just fake ferns stuffed into a cardstock funnel.” She gestured at Will and JJ. “But also, excuse me— this family costume is ridiculously cute. Mr. Lamontagne, loving this onesie. Mrs. Jareau, I didn’t even know it was possible to look prettier than you usually do, but here you are. And Michael’s Anna costume?” She held her hands up. “Incredible. Show stopping. I wish I had an aunt Penelope to enlist the help of, because that cape is the actual height of fashion.”

“She helped Spence, too,” JJ prompted, stealing a glance in his direction.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, turning to smile at Spencer.

“We um, 3D printed the ears,” he clarified.

“No way!” She took a step closer to him, peering up at the detail on the headband. He leaned down a little for her to get a closer look. “That is so cool. I’ve never actually seen anything 3D printed up close before— did you design them yourself?”

She met his eyes briefly, and he realized how close they were— close enough that he caught the faintest whiff of sandalwood and cardamom. Of course she even smelled like warmth and home. “Well. I, um— I drew a sort of sketch, I guess. And then Penelope did the software coding. I— I’m not very good with technology, honestly.”

She ran her fingers lightly over the plastic, and he decided she was really trying to kill him. “Yeah, I’m not sure I really understand how it works.”

“Well, first you create a blueprint file of the design you want to print, which you can do through modeling software or three-dimensional scanning. Then you convert the file into an STL file— named for Stereolithography which was the first ever 3D printing process. The STL file is made up of triangular mesh polygons, which is the data that describes the surface of a three-dimensional object. After that, you use a software program to complete the process of slicing— essentially dividing or chopping the 3D model into hundreds or thousands of horizontal layers that the printer can print one at a time to create the 3D object. And then the printer prints each layer until you have your finished product.”

Y/N was quiet, and he pulled back to see her grinning at him. “I thought you said you weren’t very good with technology?”

“I’m not good with using technology,” he clarified.

She nodded. “Gotcha. So you just know everything about it.”

Her joking tone had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I read a lot.”

“How much is a lot?”

“I can read at a rate of 20,000 words per minute, so… a lot.”

Her eyebrows shot up into the tangle of ferns on her head, and he was just so overwhelmed by how adorable she was. “Well, if I ever have a question about anything, I know who I’m coming to.”

He was sure he was blushing, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. “I’m happy to answer any and all of your questions.”

She let her gaze travel over the rest of the costume. “Oh my god, the sandals! Man, you really nailed it. I’m very impressed.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I thought about being Trunchbull, but I couldn’t find the sweatshirt,” he joked.

She laughed, and he wanted to bottle it up to keep forever. “As much as I would have loved to see your hair in a bun… you’re much too sweet to have been able to pull that off.” She smiled softly at him. “Much more suited to our friend the BFG.”

He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, and it was only then that he realized Will and JJ had gone to the car. He looked back to Y/N, opening his mouth but unsure of what he was going to say.

“Y/L/N!” He turned his head to see Anita jogging toward them. “Did you—” The giant cardboard box she was wearing knocked into one of the few kindergarteners left in Y/N’s line, nearly sending them to the ground. “Oh my gosh, sorry sweetheart!” She righted the startled child, and Spencer gave her a once over, completely at a loss as to what her costume could be.

“What in the world are you supposed to be?” Y/N asked, choking out a laugh.

Anita looked at her deadpan. “A monopoly piece. Remind me that I’m never participating in team costumes ever again.” She rolled her eyes and gestured at Y/N. “Next year I’m gonna wear an orange t-shirt, call myself a carrot, and be much more comfortable.”

“I’ll have you know this costume was a lot of work,” Y/N remarked, crossing her arms.

“I’m sure it was. You could have put on an orange dress, stuck a green pipe cleaner in your hair, and called it a day, but that’s not the Y/L/N way.” Anita’s eyes slid across to where Spencer stood. “Well, hello, doctor. I have absolutely no idea what you’re supposed to be, but I love everything about it.”

“Spencer’s the BFG,” Y/N said, and Spencer could have sworn she sounded almost proud.

“Ah, Roald Dahl, of course.” Anita smirked. “I see you, Spencer. I see you.” She put her hands on her hips— or rather where her hips would have been if they weren’t covered by a ridiculously large box. “So, when are you going to volunteer?”

“Sorry?” he asked.

“Like, when are you going to volunteer in Y/L/N’s classroom?” She held up her hand, palm down, and made a circular motion between the two of them. “You know, hang out, but professionally.”

“Oh my god, did you need something?” Y/N’s squeaked, eyes wide.

Anita ignored her. “You just have to do a background check, but I’m sure you’ll pass it.”

“Lopez,” Y/N said, staring her down. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you got the email about the PD after school on Tuesday. But this was much more fun.” She winked at Spencer. “Bye, Spencer.”

They both stared after her as she nearly skipped across the grass to the building. Y/N turned to him. “I’m— so sorry.”

He met her eyes and took the leap. “Volunteering could be fun.”

He watched her press her lips together to contain her smile. “It could be.”

He didn’t bother containing his own. “I’ll um— I’ll shoot you an email.”

“I’ll respond to your email.”

…

When he walked in the door, Spencer made a beeline for his desk. He opened his laptop and pulled up his email account, writing as fast as his one-finger typing would allow.

Spencer Reid Re: Volunteering

Hi!

I’m just following up about volunteering. Anita mentioned a form that I needed to fill out? Now that I’ll be back to work, I’ll just need to plan around the BAU schedule. Could you give me a list of days that would work for you?

Really looking forward to seeing you in action.

Spencer

He checked his two other email messages, and then left the browser up while he thumbed through his most recent reading material.

He sat at his desk for the remainder of the afternoon, distractedly perusing his book and glancing at his empty inbox every minute or so. His gaze flew up to the screen at the ding of a new message at 6:30, only to find a promotional email from one of his favorite indie bookstores.

He closed his laptop with a sigh. It was a Friday night. Y/N probably just didn’t check her email on the weekend. He could wait until Monday. He’d see her on Monday.

He limited himself to checking his laptop twice a day on Saturday and Sunday. When Monday rolled around, he checked it in the morning. He leaned back against the leather of his chair, staring at the empty inbox. He had some errands to run, and for the first time in his life, he wished he had a phone that had email on it.

He ran his last-day-of-sabbatical errands and stopped in at his favorite coffee shop for most likely the last midday, sit-down coffee he’d have for a while. Before he realized, it was 2:30. He brought his empty mug to the counter and waved to the barista. Then he walked to the car and prepped his conversation starters.

“Did you get my email? I sent you an email, just wondering if you saw it? Hey— Hello— Hi, I wasn’t sure if you got my email.” He blew out a breath. “Hi. How are you?” He waved his hand. “I’m great. Did you get my email?” He laughed into the empty car. “Ridiculous, Spencer. You’re ridiculous.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, his heart was racing and his palms were slipping against the steering wheel. He pulled around the loop, looking with a furrowed brow at the area where Y/N should be. In her place was a short woman with cropped grey hair. She held a clipboard and looked generally overwhelmed.

Michael sprinted to the car as soon as he saw it. He pulled open the door and let out a world weary sigh. Spencer turned in his seat. “Everything all right?”

“No, everything is terrible,” he huffed dramatically. “Ms. Y/L/N was sick today. Mrs. Franklin was our substitute, and she smells weird.”

Spencer looked through the window at Mrs. Franklin, struggling to keep a few rowdy boys in the line. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m sure Ms. Y/L/N will be back soon.” He was secretly relieved that he had a potential explanation for the unanswered email.

“I can’t take another day of Mrs. Franklin,” Michael sighed, buckling his seatbelt. “I hope Ms. Y/L/N’s back tomorrow.”

Spencer let out a breath and pulled away from the curb. “Me, too.”

…

JJ huffed out a breath, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. Spencer was nose deep in a book, but he glanced up at the sound. “I can take a few of those if you want,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I’ve really only got six left.”

He looked at his watch. “Each report takes you approximately 37 minutes. With eight minute breaks in between, you’re not going to be out of here until almost 6:00.”

JJ laughed. “I can’t believe I missed out on these scathing performance reviews for thirty days.”

“Suit yourself.” Spencer dropped his gaze back to his reading.

His first week back from sabbatical had been uneventful to say the least. The team had just wrapped a local case, and they’d spent the better part of the week going over consultations and potentials. It was finally Friday, and Spencer was finished with his stack of backlogged reports.

He was finishing the last chapter of the book when JJ dropped a string of quiet curses. He continued reading, waiting for her to ask. She was quiet for another minute.

“I forgot I’m on duty to pick Michael up today.” Spencer looked up at her, slight panic coming over him.

“I really don’t mind finishing your reports,” he offered.

JJ raised her eyebrows. “What, no offering to visit Ms. Y/L/N?”

Spencer closed his book. “I, um. I sent her an email a week ago, and she hasn’t responded.”

“So?”

“So…” Spencer ran a hand through his hair. “That’s weird, right?”

JJ laughed. “You don’t really use email, so I’d imagine your inbox is pretty orderly. But if you use it a lot, it can be easy for messages to get lost.” She looked at him pointedly. “I can almost guarantee that she’s not ignoring you, Spence.”

He sighed. “I guess there’s a quick way to find out.”

...

Spencer drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, watching the door of the school. He glanced at the clock, noting the class was later than they’d ever been. Without really understanding why, he pulled out of the loop and swung back around to park in the lot. He exited the car, and as he rounded the hood, he spotted them.

Y/N was at the front of the line, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket and mouth pressed into a thin line. The line behind her was unlike he’d ever seen it. No waving arms, no smiles, no giggles. Twenty small bodies followed behind her with absolute and total solemnity, and he felt uncomfortable just watching them. It would have almost been funny if it wasn’t so dramatically out of character.

The line weaved around the more rambunctious classes, maintaining their grave expressions and quiet pace. They reached their spot on the sidewalk, and Y/N didn’t even have to say anything. Spencer watched as the line took their spots behind her. She held one hand up to acknowledge parents as they pulled up, murmuring stoic goodbyes to students as they headed to their vehicles.

He hung back at the hood of the car until the majority of the class was gone, slowly making his way across the parking lot. Y/N’s line of sight was pointed in his direction, but her eyes were unfocused in the afternoon sun. He could see the moment that she registered his presence, her eyes widening slightly and bottom lip releasing from the place she’d been absentmindedly chewing. She shifted her weight as he closed the final few feet between them.

“Hi.” She held a silent hand up in greeting. He clenched and unclenched his fingers. “Rough day?”

“It’s not always sunshine and rainbows, despite what everyone thinks,” she snapped. She blew out a breath and rolled her eyes up to the perfectly blue sky, mocking her mood. “I’m sorry. Yes, it was a rough day.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“You don’t deserve my wrath.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the students. “They didn’t either, but— too late for that.”

He watched as she lowered her head back down, rubbing a hand over her face. He desperately wanted to slay whatever dragons had given her normally brilliant eyes such a grey cast. “You have strong relationships with them, and kids are resilient. I’m sure they know you—”

“Please— don’t.” Her voice was thick, and she looked at him with desperate eyes. “I— I appreciate the thought, but I’m— I’m a frustrated crier.” Her shining irises proved her point. “And I’m just— I’m really just trying to keep it together for the last four minutes of my contract time.” Her words were practically a whisper, and she swallowed thickly and glanced down the line, just Michael and one classmate left, eyes downcast.

“I understand.” Spencer shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them from reaching out and touching her. “I’m sorry. I— I hope your weekend is better than today.”

Michael slowly left the line, murmuring a quiet goodbye to Y/N. Spencer put a hand on his shoulder and steered him toward the car, stealing one last glance at a crushed Y/N.

...

Y/N Y/L/N

Re: Re: Volunteering

Hi,

I meant to respond to this email, and then a bunch of things happened, and then I was out all week.

I don’t know if you even still want to volunteer after this afternoon, but it felt rude to not respond at all.

I’ve attached the background check form to this email in case you’re still interested.

Y/N

1 Attachment: Background Check

—

Hi,

I meant what I said this afternoon. Your students love you, and they know you love them. If my conversation with Michael in the car was any indication, they’re feeling rightfully embarrassed and guilty about their behavior while you were out.

Regardless of what happened today, your relationships with your students are strong enough that they will come to school tomorrow knowing that you still care about them. Children don’t hold onto things nearly as much as adults.

It would be a privilege to volunteer in your classroom, even on the worst day.

Spencer

1 Attachment: Background Check - Spencer Reid

—

If I wasn’t already crying, I would be now.

Thanks for that.

No sarcasm intended. Really. Thank you.

—

This might be inappropriate, and if it is, please just pretend like this email doesn’t exist.

I have a favorite cafe in the DuPont circle area, Soho Tea & Coffee. They have an excellent tea drink made with honey and milk that I like to order whenever I’ve had a particularly difficult day.

If you’re up for it, it’s on me.

———

Tags: @spacedikut​ @uhuhuh​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​ @90spumkin​ @blameitonthenight21​ @magenta145​ @annesauriol​ @watermelongubler​ @ampal98​ @rainsong01​ @meowiemari​ @mrsmyaweasley​ @mggsprettygirl​​ @ceeellewrites​ @coffeeandendlesswords​ @daybabyx​ @joalsglasses​ @chevyimpala00067​ @misshale21​ @sapphic-prentiss @danifaithkae​ @saspencereid @heyitssomegirl101

Permanent tags: @andiebeaword​ @averyhotchner​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @shadyladyperfection​ @coffeeandendlesswords​ @justanothetfangirl​ @no-honey-no​ @ajeff855

[kythed]

free coffee & other perks

kuroo tetsurou x reader

synopsis: you work at the starbucks drive-thru where kuroo comes everyday demanding a free drink for his birthday. and, for some reason, you let him get away with it.

word count: 1,450

“Come on, it’s my birthday!”

“You’ve literally been saying that for two months straight.”

Kuroo lowers his sunglasses and flashes you a crooked smile, one hand resting on his steering wheel. You lean out the window of the Starbucks drive-thru, struggling to keep your apron from flapping up in the biting November wind.

“Go on,” he says, gesturing to the booth behind you. “Check my email. It says it’s my birthday.”

You can hardly keep from rolling your eyes as you reluctantly duck back in and pull up the membership tab on the boxy, outdated monitor beside the cash register. “Which email is it today?”

“TetsuIsSexy@gmail.com,” he says, voice laced with barely restrained laughter. The corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly as you hit the keys one by one, taking your sweet time in a last ditch attempt at petty requital for his blatant rule-bending. “Might wanna hurry it up. There’s about a dozen other cars behind me itching for their caffeine fix.”

“You know, I really ought to report this to the manager,” you sigh. Kuroo just cocks his head and lifts his eyebrows. His smugness should annoy you, but that vaguely impish grin does nothing but send a multitude of butterflies swooping into the pit of your stomach.

How frustrating.

“You won’t though,” he says. He knows he’s got you wrapped around his little finger. (You know it too, but you’re a little less than willing to admit as much.) “I think I’ll have a dark roast, by the way, for my special, free birthday drink. Since you haven’t yet asked.”

Chewing on your lip (mostly to avoid smiling), you jot down his order, though you already know it by heart. “With two sugars, I presume?”

Kuroo beams. “You know me so well.”

“Not by choice,” you say, but you allow yourself the tiniest of grins as he begins to roll up his car window. “We’ll have your order ready for you at the next window.”

--

Two months prior, Kuroo Tetsurou, con-artist extraordinaire, had pulled up to the Starbucks drive-thru you worked at to claim a birthday drink. That in itself was not unusual, but then he had showed up again the next day.

And the next.

And the day after that.

For months.

As it turned out, he’d signed up for a Starbucks membership about a hundred different times with a hundred different emails and a hundred different birth dates, just so he could finagle a free coffee each day.

It was ingenious, you had to admit-- you were a little jealous you hadn’t thought of it first. Maybe that’s why you’d been so initially intent on thwarting him.

And you could have put an end to it, if you’d really wanted to-- but there was just something about him that made you want to see him again. You couldn’t exactly put your finger on it-- maybe it was the sly glint underlying his gaze, or that unruly mop of dark hair.

Or that stupid, hyena like laugh.

Whatever it was, you had begun looking forward to seeing Kuroo everyday, and you almost hated yourself for it.

Almost, but not quite.

Which is why, the next day, when he still hasn’t made his daily drive by two hours after the time he usually comes-- 9 o’clock sharp-- you find yourself wondering where he is, even as you take dozens of other orders. An iced matcha latte, a small Americano, a double espresso-- but no medium dark roast with two sugars.

By noon, you accept that he isn’t going to show up. Maybe he’s sick or something, you think as you lean back in the booth’s single squeaky spinning chair. You spin lazily, pushing one foot off the ground. Squeak. Squeak. Squeeeeak.

Or, says a tiny voice in the back of your mind, maybe he just found someone nicer to buy coffee from.

You groan and put your head in your hands, suddenly regretting the countless times you’d threatened to get Kuroo’s membership revoked, or that time when you purposely got his order wrong just to irritate him. Maybe you should have been a little more pleasant.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you almost don’t hear the revving of an engine approaching the drive thru until it’s right beneath the window. Shaking yourself from your self-imposed contrition, you scramble to put on your little green visor and your best customer service voice.

You pop your head out the window. “Hi there, welcome to Starbucks, how may I-- oh! It’s you!”

Kuroo grins and, against your wishes, your heart gives a resounding thump. “Someone’s rather excited to see me today.”

“N-no, I’m not,” you say, though your quivering voice gives you away. You can’t stop smiling, either-- damn it. “You’re just late-- I didn’t think you were coming.”

Kuroo presses his hand to his chest with a mock pout. “I’m touched.”

“Whatever,” you say, spinning a pen between your fingers. “Another dark roast?”

“Actually,” he says, pretending to read the menu. “I was thinking of trying something new today. Any suggestions?”

You blink. He’d never ordered anything other than a medium dark roast. “Uhh, well, I’m pretty partial to the vanilla iced coffee, but I don’t know if you--”

“I’ll get that, then,” he interrupts, smiling sweetly. “That and my usual.”

“You want two drinks? Your birthday scam only covers one.”

“Okay, for one thing, it’s not a scam,” he says, trying (and failing) to look offended. “I just happen to have a lot of birthdays. And two, I’m just gonna pay today.”

You give him a narrow eyed glance before shrugging incredulously and beginning to scrawl the order down. “Alright, well, if you say so.”

“Thank you,” he says. He clears his throat, voice taking on an oddly measured tone. “Also, uh, your shift ends in like twenty minutes, right?”

You look up, surprised to see his cheeks tinged with pink. He drums his fingers against the car window nervously. “Yeah, I do. How’d you know?”

“I, uh, I asked the girl at the pickup window yesterday.”

“Oh… why?”

Kuroo bites his lip before smiling brightly, tilting his head cutely like a 6’2” Shirley Temple. “Well, I happen to have two coffees coming my way, but I can only drink one. And, you know, the second one I’m purchasing happens to be your favorite. So, I just figured since you happen to get off soon, you could help me out.”

You stare, unable to register his words for a moment. Then it dawns on you. “Oh. My. God. Are you asking me out on a date? Is that why you came so late today?”

“What? No, no way,” Kuroo says, a wide grin betraying his words. “I just need someone to drink the extra coffee. With me. In a one-on-one environment.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a date.” You lean forward, resting your forearms at the edge of the window. Kuroo shakes his head with a laugh.

“Okay, yeah, you caught me. It’s definitely a date.”

“Ha! Knew it,” you say triumphantly. A soft breeze whistles through the drive-thru, lifting your hair from your shoulders. “Imagine that… the incorrigible Kuroo Tetsurou asking little old me out on a date.”

“What can I say,” he says with a shrug. “I have a thing for girls who bully me relentlessly. Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, that does kind of suck for you,” you say with false sympathy. Internally, however, your heart is throwing the biggest celebratory party it ever has, replete with confetti and champagne.

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “I gotta go; there’s someone waiting behind me. So… I’ll see you in like fifteen? In the parking lot?”

You pretend to consider for a moment. “Well… seeing as you’ll have a coffee waiting for me… I guess I could bear being in your company for a little while.”

“Oh, shush,” he says, shifting the car into drive. “I know you like me. You’re not slick.”

You can’t do anything but grin and shake your head as the car inches forward. He’s right-- you do like him. Probably a little more than you should.

“Make sure you’re still wearing the little hat!” he calls over his shoulder as he pulls away. “It’s cute.”

“Whatever you say!” you sing out as the next customer pulls up in front of you. When you take her order, though, the only thing you can think about is the impending not-date. A not-date with the bane of your existence, Kuroo “give me free coffee” Tetsurou. A not-date you are looking forward to terribly much... needless to say, you do wear the hat.

After all, it’s the least you can do for his birthday.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Birthday Memories

Word Count: 1591

Warnings: A little angst, a bit of fluff, some recovery Bucky

Summary: Bucky figures out why birthdays are so important.

A/N: This is just a little something I put together for one of my favorite characters of all time to celebrate his birthday. It hasn’t been beta’d and I wasn’t planning on writing it, but my finger slipped. Oops. 😇

He didn’t tell anyone. 

He didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want to be reminded that his life was taken away. He didn’t want to be reminded that he was over a century old. 

He didn’t want to remember that the last birthday he ever had was in the midst of a war he never wanted, among friends who became brothers, and whom he’d never see again. 

He didn’t want to remember the “party” he had with his family. How his sisters would give him something meaningful of theirs since they didn’t have money, usually a stuffie or a toy. How his mother would stay up all night decorating their small apartment with everything they could afford - streamers and a couple balloons, usually. How his father would work overtime to make him something at the shop; a small wagon he got for his eighth birthday, a wooden gun for his tenth, and a new baseball bat for his thirteenth after he broke the one he had for years. How his parents would scrape and save all year so that he could have that stupid chocolate brownie cake that he loved so much, but was extremely expensive, form the bakery down the street.

He didn’t want to remember how Sarah Rogers - one of the greatest women he’d ever met, a second mother to him - always came over early, dragging little Stevie along, to make those delicious blueberry pancakes she concocted, even though she was busy enough without stressing over him and his birthday breakfast. Even though she always had a new hat she made him every year and didn’t need to make food with a hard to come by fruit. Even though she was alone with her own sick son to worry about.

And Steve. He didn’t want to remember how he always stayed over for the night. How they would talk for hours about their dreams and aspirations. About where they were going to be by the time the next birthday hit. The blonde used to say that his birthday present from him was not having to bail him out of any fights. He always kept that promise; no fighting on Buck’s birthday. It wasn’t the only thing he got from his best pal, though. Steve always kept a sketchbook - a journal of sorts - illustrating their adventures throughout the year, starting the day after Bucky’s birthday when they always went to Coney Island, and ending on his birthday, whether it be a sketch of Bucky blowing out candles, or a drawing of the stars they looked at while talking later in the night.

He didn’t want to remember, because it hurt to do so.

Sometimes he wished he never remembered. It was a cruel thing. A life that he could never go back to. One that he wasn’t ready to leave, no matter how many times he told himself he was while sitting in muddy ditches with bullets flying over head.

Sometimes, on his bad days, he wished the experiments didn’t work. That Steve never came. That he was never “rescued” by that Soviet soldier. That he never survived the fall.

It just so happened that his birthday was one of those bad days.

He missed his life more than he let on. He missed his sisters. He missed his ma. He missed his pa. He missed when it was only him and tiny Stevie against the world. When they could do whatever they wanted, curious and innocent, exploring the big wide world as they knew it.

Turns out, the world is a lot bigger, and a lot scarier, than they thought.

He missed it, and he didn’t want to remember because it hurt, so he didn’t tell anyone, and he didn’t want anyone to find out. He stayed in his room all day, until he got too hungry to ignore around dinner time.

So he walked into the common room of the newly built Compound.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

He froze as confetti was shot out of those little hand-held cannons, balloons were dropped from the ceiling, and party horns were blown. His team - his friends and family, he had to remind himself - were beaming at him with party hats on their heads, frosting and flour on some of their cheeks. A banner reading, “HAPPY 107th BIRTHDAY, CYBORG!’ was hung up, no doubt courtesy of a certain birdbrain, along with streamers that looked like they were just thrown randomly.

He blinked, trying to process what was happening, before Sam had an arm over his shoulders, dragging him over to the table and sitting him down. Wanda set a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of him as Tony blasted music from the speakers overhead. A pile of gifts sat at the other end of the room, and the island counter was filled with all kinds of treats.

The team gathered around, laughing and teasing while eating the breakfast dinner that Bucky swore came straight from the 1920’s. Once they were done, a familiar chocolate brownie cake was placed in front of him, a gazillion candles on it, which he blew out in one breath to spite Sam, who said he couldn’t do it. Turns out, however, they were trick candles. Bucky rolled his eyes when Tony, Sam, Clint, and Pietro started laughing way too hard, but he couldn’t fight the small smile on his face.

He had yet to say more than a few words by the time they were done with the food and opening presents. He had gotten more books, a telescope, new boxing gloves, a teddy bear, a newsboy cap like the ones they used to have, and a wooden baseball bat along with a new glove (among other things). Tony even booked Coney Island the next day for the team to have it all to themselves. 

It was too much; his brain was still processing all that had happened so suddenly in the past hour or two.

They knew. About everything. They knew about his birthday. They knew about the blueberry pancakes. They knew about the brownie cake. They knew about the hat and the baseball bat and Coney Island. They knew it all.

He didn’t have to question how. He looked up from the bear in his hands when something was placed in front of him. He met the ocean blue eyes of his best pal, and instantly knew what he’d done. How could anyone else know? How else could Wanda make blueberry pancakes that tasted just like Ma Sarah’s? How else would they find a hat that looked just like the last one she gave him when he turned 19 in 1936? How else would they know he, one of the most deadly assassins in the world, would want a teddy bear? How else would they know how much the silly decorations and the simple brownie cake meant to him?

Steve gave him that mischievous smile that never ceased to make Bucky chuckle, pushing the book he set on the table in front of him closer. “It’s a little more than a year…”

His icy blue gaze fell to the table, jaw clenching as he realized what it was. A sketchbook. Bigger, better quality than the ones he used to get, but that was to be expected. It was still torn up a little bit, the edges fading, the pages separating.

With shaky hands, he tugged the book closer and flipped through the pages. The Potomac River in DC. His little apartment in Bucharest. The airport in Germany. The Citadel in Wakanda. His hut in Wakanda. Him with his goats. Him and his new arm. Him and the team this past Thanksgiving when everyone came back. Him ice skating at Rockefeller Center during Christmas. New Years. Valentine’s Day. Snow days. Training. Watching movies. Playing games. 

The very last couple pages were something he wasn’t expecting though; his family, new and old. Headshots of his smiling parents and sisters and Ma Sarah. The Commandos, laughing despite dirt on their cheeks and tears in their clothes. The Avengers doing signature poses with smirks and winks and cheeky grins. All perfectly drawn, safe in charcoal and ink, hidden protectively within the worn out sketchbooks covers.

“They’d want you to celebrate. So…happy birthday, jerk.”

Bucky’s eyes, prickling with unshed tears, making his vision slightly blurry, wandered up from the pages of black and white to the team, all smiling at him, before landing on Steve.

So maybe he missed the past. And maybe it hurt to remember. But he had Stevie with him, and he had his new team - his new family. And the blonde, as much as it hurt to admit it, was right. His old family would want him to celebrate. To remember them and, instead of getting upset and angry at the world for what it took away from him, would want them to cherish the memories he has. To be glad for what the world gave to him.

A few tears slipped down the curves of his cheeks, but he didn’t mind. They weren’t out of frustration and sorrow. They were good tears. Relieved tears.

“Thanks, punk.”

Maybe birthdays shouldn’t be about holding onto the past and wishing you were back. Maybe they’re about letting go and celebrating everything you’ve accomplished, how you’ve grown. Maybe they’re about being grateful for the people you’ve met, the places you’ve been, and where you end up.

And James Buchanan Barnes was glad to be who he was. A son, a brother, a friend, a teammate, a comrade…a hero.

[pillow-anime-talk]

mistletoe. {pt.2}

synopsis: Killing cursed spirits with Satoru, winter prom with Metori and sincere conversation with Juuzou.

# tags: scenarios; christmas!au; current relationships & crush culture; romance; fluff; a bit of angst; sfw

includes: female reader ft. satoru gojou {jjk} + metori saiko {saiki k. no psi nan} + juuzou suzuya {tokyo ghoul}

part one {click}

— SATORU

“... Y/N-chan, on the left!”

“... Hey, hey! Look up, sweetheart!”

“... Oi! Behind you!”

“... Behind you too! Kick their asses, Satoru~!”

“... YEAH! Here’s my super strong girl!”

You two have been in the forest; for over twenty minutes you dealing with killing smaller or larger curses that frightened mushroom pickers or wild animals. You had a lot of fun doing it, all the time competing to see who killed more evil creatures. Of course, your boyfriend was winning so far, by three, but how could you know that some of them would come out of the forest litter, literally letting the white-haired man kill them all in a few seconds? Well, but at least you killed about twelve curses yourself, and that was a really nice result.

On the one hand, you enjoyed spending time with Gojou like that, because it was very rare for the two of you to be together on a mission, but on the other hand... It was the time of Christmas that you wanted to spend in your own home, surrounded by delicious food and desserts, hot wine or beer, loved ones, including your boyfriend’s cute students or your mutual friends. From a long time, that is, from the moment you became a sorcerer, you didn’t spend any holidays, birthdays or anniversaries as you would like. There was simply no time and energy for it because every day, apart from some Sundays, you worked to make life better for vulnerable people. It wasn’t a bad job, but sometimes... when you looking at ‘normal’ couples you envied their ignorance to the fact that some evil had appeared around them. You envied them that they could spend their free time together doing stupid things or relaxing in front of the TV.

So you sighed softly, raising the hand in which you held the small pocket knife. Small as your anti-curse tool was, it was also extremely effective and dangerous. Therefore, you cut the throat of one of the evil souls without any problems, thus defeating the last enemy.

“Ahhhh. Finally...! You’re not hurt, baby?” The young man said in a cheerful voice, and you shook your head in disapproval. Second later, you cleaned the little knife and then, hid it in one of the pockets of your black pants. “Would you like to get some hot chocolate and cake?”

“Huh? Have we finished all our work for today?” You asked in surprise, and the man just bit his lip with joy, putting his finger to his mouth after a while.

“Yes, although you forgot one thing, love.” You raised an eyebrow at his amused words. However, Satoru quickly got rid of your unawareness as soon as he raised his right hand and pointed at something above with his index finger. For a moment you were sure that he meant a curse that hadn’t been killed before, but as it turned out, it was mistletoe growing on one of the tall trees; you were surprised that during the fight he was able to additionally notice a small, green plant. Anyway, you just chuckled lightly as you stood on your tiptoes and tugged at the twenty-eight-year-old by his jacket.

You were happy that at least this one, very sweet Christmas moment could happen to you during the winter season. Thanks to this, these holidays weren’t so bad and devoid of spirit.

— METORI

Every year there was a winter prom at your school; it was the third time for you, while for Saiko, who only joined your class this year, it was something new. Of course, he was skeptical about it from the start and generally discouraged by the very idea of ​​spending time with all PK Academy students, classmates and teachers. That’s why he immediately told you that if you want to go to the prom, he can arrange whatever prom you want; he literally said if you wanted Beyoncé he could call her.

But you just smiled warmly and said that school party is enough for you and you really like it. So he couldn’t refuse you... after all, the gray-haired young boy had a huge, indescribable weakness for you. Plus, even though you’ve been dating for a few weeks, Metori still couldn’t understand how... gentle and simple you were. You weren’t interested in luxury, his money, where his father worked. Instead, you asked every day if he had breakfast, if he would like to go for a walk with you, if he would like to come to you for dinner because your mother cooked a delicious Mexican dish. It was something new and nice for a teenager who had grown up in prosperity and splendor throughout his life. It didn’t bother him, but the prom... it was quite strange and mysterious. But he agreed, so he couldn’t take his words back because he didn’t want you to get sad or disappointed.

Thus, he bought a new, well-fitting and expensive suit – one that would fit perfectly with your delicate dress, which at the same time matches to the color of your shiny eyes. He also paid for new shoes, a watch, and a hairdresser visit, but even that couldn’t compare to your soft, natural blushes and the sweet facial expression you gave him when he came to your house with his butler.

“... You’re stressed?” You asked quietly as you sat in the car and he squeezed your little hand between his much larger ones.

“I’ve just never been at a prom... public... especially at school.” He muttered, and though he turned his head, you could see a hint of blush on his nose and both cheeks. So you chuckled lightly as you cuddled up against his shoulder.

“I’m pretty sure you’ll like it.”

The school hasn’t changed much; only a few holiday decorations have been added here and there. However, the gymnasium took your breath away because it was magically decorated. But before you had time to take your seats on the other side of the door, your physical education teacher stopped the two of you.

“Couples enter after payment.” Mr. Matsuzaki said, and the Santa Claus hat on his head added to the charm of his muscular figure.

Of course, Saiko was already taking out his wallet, but you quickly stopped it, pointing in a specific direction. It was, obviously, the smol mistletoe, which was the aforementioned entry ticket for couples who decided to show up at the ball together. So you smiled slightly at your boyfriend and he looked at you confused.

“What is it?”

“O-Oh, you never kissed under the mistletoe?”

“Kissing under it has any meaning?” He asked, still surprised, and you just moved closer to his face, stealing a short, really sweet kiss.

“It’s a tradition, love. You have to kiss under every mistletoe if you notice one.” You said happily and then thanked the teacher for going inside the gym.

Of course, Metori in his head was already calculating how many tons of mistletoe he should buy so that you could continue kissing him as sweetly as you just did.

— JUUZOU

You put two cups of hot, beautifully fragrant chocolate on the table; one was with two white marshmallows and the other with six. Of course, it was easy to guess which portion was for Juuzou and which was for you. Nevertheless, you smiled gently and then sat down next to the white-haired boy, staring at him out of the corner of your eye.

“... About what did you dream, Juuzou-kun?” You asked softly, taking the purple cup between both hands. The warm ceramics pleasantly burned your all fingers, which made you breathe blissfully. “Of course, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to tell me. We can just sit in silence and drink our sweet cocoa.” You added after a brief second so as not to put unnecessary pressure or general stress on the nineteen-year-old.

“It’s no big deal. I dreamed about my mom.” He admitted hesitantly, also taking his dark-green mug. “When I woke up and looked at the calendar I realized we had Christmas time and... Well, my mom never gave me any, not even a small gift, nor did I ever spend that time like other children my age. It hit me a bit. Not that I regret it, but... what Christmas really is?” His short speech made you look at him with a very sad expression on your face and after a quick while you just put your warm chocolate on the table, getting up from your wooden chair and walking to a random cupboard in your smol kitchen.

This year you didn’t have time (because of work) and no idea (because of fatigue) for presents for loved ones, and even more so for the unexpected guest – Suzuya, who loved to sleep in your house because, as he once said, ‘He felt at your place very safe’, but you managed to come up with a little surprise fastly; you wrapped a red ribbon that was in the cupboard with needles and scissors around an unopened box of nut cookies. You also managed to find a piece of paper and a black pen, so you wrote a concise but sincere wishes to the inspector, which ended with a tiny heart and a star. Out of the corner of your eye, you also noticed the mistletoe lying next to the clock, which was a little joke your dear friend had made to you two days ago. So you took everything and went back to the quietly sitting Juuzou, smiling slightly at him, even a bit silly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about gifts before, but... I hope that’s enough. After today’s work, we can go to the gallery or the park to see the decorated Christmas trees, you will surely like them. Happy Holidays, Juuzou. I hope next year will be a good one for you.” You said shyly as you handed him ribbon-decorated cookies. At the sight of them, the boy only blushed, then looked at your other hand, which was still gripping a little twig. “Ohh... it’s... such a small tradition where you get a kiss under the mistletoe.” You picked up the plant and then placed it over the white-haired young man’s head, bending down after a while and giving him a short peck on the left, smooth cheek. “Merry Christmas once again.”

“Merry Christmas to you too and... thank you for that.”

You only smirked, reaching for the mug of already cool drink. However, you weren’t disappointed in drinking the cold cocoa, because the honest, slightly timid smile of the boy you liked from the beginning of your work at CCG warmed your whole body better than any other hot chocolate, tea or coffee.

[songbirdsingingthings]

Common Sense - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

A/N: So I got this idea, ran with it, and then somehow 3,000+ words came out of it. Honestly, I’m kinda really proud with how it turned out and I hope y’all like it too.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3.1K

If there was ever a phrase that Shouto Todoroki hated, it would be ‘common sense’. What a weird phrase, he would think, because the use of common sense implies that it’s something that everyone should know, but in most cases, he didn’t. Unfortunately, that phrase left the lips of his friends quite often. He knows they mean no harm or ill will towards him, he was sure they would stop using the term if he ever mentioned how he felt about it, but he didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. The first time it started to get on his nerves was when he, Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka were at the mall on a rare weekday off.

“Wow, hey, look at that!” Uraraka had exclaimed, running as quickly as her feet could carry her over to a newly implemented little wishing well that had been placed in a small corner of the outdoor mall. Midoriya and Iida quickly followed her, but Shouto hung back.

“C’mon Todoroki, let’s go make a wish!” Midoriya urged, beckoning him over with a wave of his hand. Shouto followed him, albeit a little confused, over to the well.

“Does anybody have a quarter I could use? I forgot to bring change with me, I only have bills in my wallet.” Uraraka blushed, her expression a bit embarrassed.

“Of course!” Iida said, fishing two quarters out of his billfold, handing one to Uraraka and keeping the other for himself. Todoroki watched his three friends close their eyes and then flip their coins into the well, taking note at how they sank slowly into the water.

“Todoroki, aren’t you going to make a wish?” Midoriya questioned, a patient smile on his lips. The expression of confusion remained on Shouto’s face.

“What merit do coins have on wishes?” He asked, genuinely curious as to why his friends would technically throw away money in turn for a wish that would most likely be out of their reach or unrealistic. “Also, aren’t we using money to pay for things within the stores here? I thought that you were saving up for that new jacket, Uraraka.” He wondered, turning to look at the pink-cheeked girl. She just smiled and shook her head.

“Todoroki, a small little coin wouldn’t have much effect on my savings. Besides, it’s kinda common sense to enjoy the little things like this and not pay too much mind, right?” Iida and Midoriya nodded enthusiastically, nudging the red-and-white haired boy closer to the water-filled wishing well. He sighed and thought over Uraraka’s words. It’s kinda common sense to enjoy the little things? He thought as a quarter was forcibly put in his hands. He closed his eyes to humor his friends and dropped the coin in the well. He was then afterward given smiles and some reassuring pats, and as much as he knew his friends were making efforts to include him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit… coddled. He knew that as a child he was always shielded from the world, but was he really kept away from this much? Was he seriously hidden from such superficial subjects? He tried to ward away those questions that poked and prodded at his brain, but he couldn’t seem to shrug them off as he observed his friends dart in and out of multiple stores with shopping bags in their hands. Shouto ended up bringing nothing back to the dorm with him, except for a sudden slight contempt for a tiny little phrase.

The next circumstance was when he and Bakugou were at the remedial lessons. While Shouto wasn’t incredibly enthused about going through extra lessons in order to gain his provisional license, he understood why he needed to go and appreciated the effort and lengths that the teachers went to so that he could have another chance. Well, he, Bakugou, Inasa and a girl who just introduced herself as Camie to him and the explosive-quirked boy.

“So, who’s this smoldery looking two-toned boy?” She had chirped, her hand clutching the brim of her Shiketsu high cap. “You’re, like, super hot. I’m crazy siked to train with a babe like you!” Even Shouto had to admit to himself that this girl was coming onto him really strong - and not exactly in the most flattering way possible. She greeted Inasa briefly, but then dug into her pocket to grab her phone, holding it out in front of Shouto. “Seriously, can I, like, have your number?” Hesitantly, Shouto responded.

“Uhh, sure.” He replied, but made no effort to grab his own phone that was safely tucked away in his blazer pocket. He found her interactions with others to be quite shallow in the way that she really gave no information about herself. Camie tended to project more onto others, he figured. As he and Bakugou walked to the changing room specifically set aside for UA students, Shouto noticed the look of disapproval on the blonde’s face. Shouto just quirked an eyebrow at him, knowing that he didn’t need a vocal cue to get Bakugou to start talking.

“You seriously agreed to give your number to that chick at the drop of the hat? Do you not have any standards, Icyhot?” He growled, Bakugou’s signature scowl now adorning face. 

“What do you mean? I just assumed she would need it in case of emergencies.” Shouto explained. With a roll of his eyes and a look that conveyed Bakugou wanted to rip his own hair out, the blonde glared at him.

“YOU DON’T JUST GIVE A NUMBER TO A GIRL YOU JUST MET! GET TO KNOW HER OR SOMETHING YOU HALF-AND-HALF BASTARD! IT’S JUST COMMON SENSE!” Shouto was used to Bakugou’s outbursts and never took any of what he said personally, but now that was the second time the phrase common sense was used at his expense… and it irked him. Shouto’s eyes narrowed as he watched Bakugou trudge and stomp his way through the door and into the changing room. And, not unlike the first time he heard it, the saying ‘common sense’ left a foul taste in his mouth.

Finally, the most recent time he heard it, was from the person he probably despised the most. His own father. Shouto was visiting his home - which happened rarely and the time he spent there was brief - to speak with and catch up with his sister, Fuyumi. Unfortunately, just as he was about to leave, the number two Pro-Hero walked through the door.

“Shouto, you’re home!” He bellowed, a grin plastered under his flaming mustache. Shouto frowned and narrowed his eyes as he navigated around the stocky man, making his way out of the door. He adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag after it was jostled by unintentionally brushing roughly past his father, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. With narrowed eyes and a frown-turned-grimace on his face, he turned around to face the fire-quirked man.

“Do you have something to say or will you let me be on my way?” Shouto glared, making Endeavor bristle.

“Yes, Shouto, I have something to say indeed!” The flames on his body seemed to grow larger, proving another example of a concept Shouto recently learned in class: direct variation. “You haven’t bothered to return any of my calls or my text messages to you regarding personal training! It’s no wonder you didn’t pass your provisional licensing exam!” Flames emitted from his father’s body out of rage, and as much as Shouto tried not to let it out, a small wisp left his left side.

“I’m not interested, and I’ve told you as such.” Shouto grits out, resuming his previous pathing of making his way out of his childhood home. 

“You respond to your father when he reaches out to you! IT IS COMMON SENSE!” Endeavor shouts, causing Shouto’s body to go rigid. He clenches his jaw and twists around. His father saying that hated term was the last straw for him.

“IT IS NOT COMMON SENSE IN RELATION TO YOU!” Shouto barks out, frost and flames growing on their respective sides. And, with that, Shouto finally leaves the metal gates of his home, slamming them behind himself as he left. He cringed a bit at the loud clanging noise it left behind, but he was too furious to really care. He did feel bad for his classmates as they saw him enter the doors of the dorm building with a scowl almost comparable to Bakugou’s, not even sparing them a word as he left them in the common room and shut himself up in his dorm.

At the current moment, Shouto is shifting somewhat uncomfortably on one of the many cushions that were dotted around the main floor common room. It was late in the evening, but the energy coming from the Class 1A dorms was much larger due to it being a Friday night. After a particularly hard week at school, Mina Ashido and Eijirou Kirishima had proposed the idea of a Class 1A slumber party in the main room and that everyone had to come. There were no exceptions to this rule, they explained - even a glaring Bakugou was nestled into the corner of the room with a weighted blanket on top of him and a pillow. It was truly a wonder that he hadn’t tried to escape or fall asleep yet, but the rest of the class didn’t dare to ask him. Denki had tried it earlier and was greeted with a small explosion to the face and a few very choice words spat at him. This was a first for the red-and-white haired boy - never had he had a sleepover, much less a slumber party, so the pillow fights and truth-or-dare games that were being played were more or less foreign concepts to him. However, here was one thing he did know. It was that he found a sense of peace when looking at you. As a strong and powerful hero-in-training, he had always kept an eye on you in training to try and better prepare himself for an attack. But recently, he noticed that his gaze always gravitated to you whenever he was in the classroom or in the dining room. Whether it was the sun shining on your Y/H/C hair or the smile that sprouted from your lips whenever someone cracked a joke, he found them much more interesting since they were coming from you. Before long, the two of you had developed a solid friendship that involved everything - from studying together in the library to going on late night soba runs, he found you to be a much needed source of support in his life. What he didn’t realize would happen, though, was heat creeping up onto his cheeks when you locked eyes with him. You did nothing to make him feel embarrassed - just offered him a kind smile and began to make your way over to him, but the blush on his cheeks was unrelenting. He even tried to activate his right side in the hopes of cancelling it out, but to no avail. Thankfully to him, you didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s getting kinda crazy in here, huh.” You say, trying to spark up a conversation between you and him. Shouto, not finding any words, merely nodded his head. “It’s fine to be overwhelmed,” you continued, “I remember the first time I had a sleepover when I was nine years old. I had to call my parents to pick me up early because I felt like it was too suffocating,” you laugh, poking fun at your younger self’s obseredity. This cracked a small smile on Shouto’s lips. “Tell me if you need an excuse to get out of here - I have several stored up in here from previous uncomfortable situations.” You say, pointing a finger up to your temple.

“I think Bakugou would benefit from that,” Shouto muses as both of your gazes flicker over to the sulking blonde. The sound of your laughter does wonders to soothe the antsy feeling he had previously in his chest.

“Okay, well, us girls are going to get ready for bed in my room! We’ll be back any minute, so no need to worry!” Mina announces, sending a smile to the boys as the girls got up one by one and grabbed their pajamas. You gave Shouto a smile and a pat on the shoulder before standing up. You stretched your arms above your head due to the ache that was ever prominent from the endless days of training finally catching up to you. 

“Alright, I’ll be back soon. Save me a good spot?” You ask, backpedaling slowly so that your face was still turned towards Shouto. With a small smile, he nodded.

“Sure thing.” With a quick thumbs up and a little spring in your step, you spun around to quickly follow the rest of your female classmates. As soon as the door was shut, Denki had motioned for all of the guys to come to the middle of the room. Shouto, figuring that they were just going to talk about how they should figure out sleeping arrangements, shuffled closer as well. Oh, how wrong he was.

“So, now that the girls are gone for a bit, I gotta know. Who do you guys think the prettiest or, my preferred adjective, hottest girl in class is?” Immediately, Shouto’s eyes widened at the subject of conversation and how unabashedly forward he was. The red-and-white haired boy was even more shocked when the rest of the guys started talking.

“Well, we all have to admit that Momo is very pretty.” Sero says, earning nods from around the room.

“I think I know who Midoriya is gonna say,” teased Denki, nudging the green-haired boy’s side with his elbow.

“I-I don’t really know what you guys are on about?” Midoriya said, his voice octaves higher than normal. Snickers erupted from the boys as they all - even Shouto unconsciously - came to the same conclusion that Midoriya was thinking of a certain pink-cheeked brunette.

“I think that Hagakure is pretty.” A small voice peeped. All heads turned to face Ojirou who had a shy smile on his face. The next few minutes of conversations were filled with the boys commenting on how pretty the girls were in their class, going from Tsu to Mina, and then to Jirou.

“We all know you have the hots for Jirou, Denki, you don’t need to hide it.” Sero said, a mischievous grin laced across his face. The electric blonde’s jaw opened and closed like a fish before quickly changing the subject.

“W-well how about L/N?” He said, trying to get his nerves to dissipate. At her name being voiced, Shouto’s head perked up and, before he could stop the words from his mouth, he spoke.

“That’s just common sense.” The room went quiet as soon as Shouto’s words were spoken, all eyes on him. He couldn’t believe himself. That phrase, the one that irked him so much, he actually used. As much as he wanted to cringe at the use of it, he couldn’t help but understand why he used it. He had looked up the exact meaning of the phrase online before, and every site he found yielded the same results; a practical judgement concerning everyday matters. If someone were to lack common sense, then that person would usually be regarded as a simpleton or unintelligent. Well, Shouto couldn’t help but agree that if people had thought of Y/N as anything but gorgeous, then they were definitely lacking common sense.

“Uh, care to elaborate?” Kirishima asked, trying to prompt the red-and-white haired boy to spill his inside feelings that were usually never exposed to the rest of the group. Normally, Shouto would’ve put that iron gate back up around his mind and heart, but like a dam bursting and overflowing with water, he couldn’t help but let his drowning thoughts of Y/N consume his better judgement.

“It’s common sense that she’s pretty because she encapsulates everything it means to be as such.” The boys all leaned in closer to hear more, but were interrupted by a door swinging open.

“Okay, we’re back! Now, what movie should we watch? I’m kinda partial to Game Night, but am open to suggestions.” Mina chirps. The boys quickly dispersed from the middle of the room and back to their original spots. Shouto tried to find his bearings as quickly as possible since you were making your way back over to him.

“Hey! Sorry we took so long, Hagakure brought up the subject of Hawks and the girls just kinda latched onto talking about him and wouldn’t let go,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully and settling down next to him. “Thanks for the spot by the way, it’ll be kinda cool sleeping next to each other!” Shouto looked down to where he had left your pillow and blankets and swallowed.

“Oh, uh, yes.” He said. That’s when he finally got a solid look at you. Dressed in soft-looking shorts and an oversized crewneck, you looked as cozy as could be. It was like a warm hug embraced his heart as he watched you shimmy under your blanket, shifting around to find the most comfortable position in order to watch the movie.

“So, what movie do you wanna watch?” You asked, offering him a giddy smile. Shouto’s smile grew larger as he too began to crawl under his blanket.

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure whatever the others decide on will be a suitable choice.” He said. You nodded in return. In the end, the class decided on a random rom-com they found while scrolling through one of the various streaming services the UA campus TVs provided. The overhead lights of the common room were turned off, so only the blue-ish light emitting from the TV made your faces visible to each other.

“Umm, Shouto?” You whispered. Shouto turned his gaze away from the movie and onto your face. With an expression that showed he was listening, he encouraged you to continue your thoughts. “I just wanted to thank you for your compliment earlier, I… I thought it was super sweet.” Shouto’s mind ran a rerun of the day, trying to think of the specific compliment he had given you, until he arrived on the one he indirectly gave you just an hour earlier. His eyes widened and his heart began to beat more quickly as you nudged your way closer to him. “I think it’s common sense that you’re pretty, too.” Shouto drew a shaky breath as your nose brushed against his.

“May I…?” He asked, his voice so trembly that he couldn’t create a full sentence. Thankfully, though, you seemed to understand.

“Mhm” You hummed, meeting him halfway. It was perfect. Slow and sweet, showing how he was truly savoring the experience. A hesitant hand made its way up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across it. While the rest of the class was indeed there, this moment was incredibly private to the both of you. Just you, Shouto, and the common sense shared between you two that you were irrevocably and incandescently in love with each other.