#it doesn’t hit quite as hard as some of the others i’ve heard but it’s definitely very good cackles the lyrics especially

[unknownarmageddon]

hozier!!!

YIPPEE yippee yippee hozier

[aka-indulgence]

Batter Up

Happy bday @llamagoddessofficial , most amazing person in the world :] I hope you enjoy baseball Ramattra kisses ehehehe

(Baseball Ramattra x F!Reader)

—————

You have a sip of your (intentionally) spiked punch, more to look distracted rather than actually wanting to drink the concoction. The Iris baseball team sat on the bleachers, lounging and chatting amongst themselves, (looking particularly masculine and attractive.) Ramattra, the largest of them all. sat further up, keeping to himself as usual. He throws his head back and chugs a can of Sparks Soda aggressively, before he slams the entire thing against his head and crushes it.

You grit your teeth. You would feel a little guilty for staring at him for so long, if the reason you were looking at all was because he stared first.

As if on cue, the omnic turns and looks you square in your eyes, and you almost spill your punch from the shock, quickly drinking it to avoid his eyes.

You don’t know what Ramattra’s unbroken gaze for you meant. The guy had quite the reputation for being a rough, aggressive type, while also being silent. He didn’t talk much to anyone beside his ‘brother’ Zenyatta, the pitcher of the team. It was obvious to see where he got said reputation from. Whenever he was on the field, he’d bat like a monster.

And whenever you watched him during his games, everytime he hits and gets to a base, he would always look for you in the crowd and stare. Just like he’s doing tonight. You came to the party earlier than the baseball team, and when they walked in it’s like Ramattra was surprised to see you there, and after he sat, he didn’t even try to hide his glaring from you.

You’ve been checking every now and again to see if he was still looking. He always was. The only reason you were able to look at him uninterrupted for so long in the first place, was because one of his mates called on him to ask him something. You can’t quite make out what he’s saying, but you’d recognize Ramattra’s soft, digitized growling voice anywhere.

“Hey, you ok?” Vitri gently prods you. The omnic was wearing a tux-patterned t-shirt and a costume store-bought tophat, and looking at him gave you a bit of levity from how ridiculous he appears.

“You’ve been really quiet.”

“Sorry, it’s just… it’s Ramattra. He’s been staring at me all night. And I mean I know he always stares but- am I crazy? He’s really looking at me right?”

Vitri turns towards the men sitting on the bleachers and hisses. “No, yeah, he’s definitely looking at you.”

“Why’s he always doing that? Does he have some beef with me or something I’m not aware of?”

Vitri’s finger clink against his chin. “Actually… I’m not in the campus’ baseball community or anything but, I’ve heard from the grapevine that he likes you.”

“Ramattra? Likes me??” You laugh in disbelief. “I’m sorry but how? I heard he doesn’t like humans all that much,”

“That’s what I thought too, but I also heard that he likes you. I don’t know! Not like I’m friends with the guy, haha.”

“It’s… a bit hard for me to see. He has uh, ‘I want to kill you’ vibes. Have you ever experienced having someone hold a bat give you after hitting?”

“Eh, I guess not. Look, if he keeps bothering you like this, you need to confront him about it.”

“Ha! As if, even without the staring he’s already scary!”

“Yeah, well, if you’re up for it someday, I’ll back you up. I’m not letting some brute get away with making you feel unsafe, ok?”

That’s… actually really sweet. Right now other than the staring, the omnic hasn’t done anything too weird. Nonetheless, it gets you to smile. “Thanks Vitri. I’ll hold you to it,”

Vitri nods.

“Well, I’m going to get some more more of that cocktail Neela’s making. I don’t know what she has in them other than Refizer but damn, it’s so good. Don’t mind me if I get buzzed later,”

“Go ahead,” you tell him, while swirling your unfinished punch, “I’ve still got this to finish.”

You lean against the wall and look away from the… distractingly intimidating omnic, at the rest of the room. There’s a group of girls, humans and omnics on the other side of the bleachers, chatting among themselves, their bright phone screens shining on their face, tittering. There’s a human couple on the same table as an omnic table clinking their glasses together. Vitri was at Neela’s drink station and the omnics were in discussion with a human girl- apparently Neela could make human drinks too, impressing her.

It wasn’t a high bar or anything, but it makes you grateful to have picked a uni that fosters a healthy human-omnic environment.

Now that you’re not looking at the scary baseball player, you enjoy your drink more. It’s still cold, and there’s a blend of soda and something fruity in it that tastes refreshing. You think you’ll need to ask Neela about her blends sometime.

Someone taps your shoulder. You turn around expecting Vitri to be back with his drink, but instead you’re faced with an unpleasant face.

Mick stands there, his weight on one foot, swiping his hair ‘candidly’. You certainly weren’t expecting him to ever approach you. Why was he even here? This party felt a little too low-key for the likes of him.

“Hey, what’s up girl? What’re you doing all alone here? Your boyfriend ditch you?”

“Vitri’s not my boyfriend, and he’s just over there. I’m just trying to enjoy myself here,”

“Hey, isn’t that what everyone’s trying to do in this life? We’re just trying to get the little pleasures in life before we die…”

Why is he trying to get all philosophical? Was this his idea of hitting a girl? You don’t know what is it about him, but him standing so close to him makes the air feel… itchy. He makes your skin feel hot and prickle, less like romantic blushing and more like you fell into a bush of nettles.

“Haha, I guess,” please leave please leave please leave-

“Hey, since we’re here, why don’t you and I go somewhere private and have some of that ‘little joys in life’?”

And there it was. Mick was well known for sleeping around a lot, and you heard him and his little gang liked to make a challenge out of it, which… you didn’t think real people like that existed, yet here you are.

You scoffed. “What the hell dp you think you’re doing right now? Sorry, but I think you looked in the wrong place. Go to a club or something, not a campus get-together,”

“Aw, c’mon babe, I’m not always a hardcore partier. I like a good time no matter where it comes from! I heard nerdy girls can get freaky too,”

I’m going to be sick, you thought to yourself. This must be one of those ‘challenges’ you’ve heard about. You can’t imagine why else he would be here.

“Look- you don’t even know my name, Mick. No, don’t even try. I’m not looking for a one-night stand, ok? Go try your luck somewhere else people are trying to enjoy themselves, in peace,” you emphasized with your fingers.

His face scrunched into irritation, and you’re glad, because there’s finally some mutual ground you could stand on. He drops his ‘flirting voice’ into something more natural and authentic- even if it sounded nasty.

“Come on. I know you’re not some dead-inside loser. Stop acting like you’re all high and mighty for rejecting me, you could use a guy to change up that bitchy tone of yours-”

You were about to start yelling when his hand reaches for your shoulder, but he stops. He looks over your shoulder and you could see the blood draining from his face.

A hand settles on your shoulder, distinctly metal.

“... Leave.” A dangerously soft voice spoke from behind you. Without another word, Mick scrams, running off with a tail between his legs.

You almost want to run yourself, recognizing the voice. You can’t believe that out of everyone, he came to your rescue.

“Ramattra?”

His face was shadowed by the cap he still had on. His height meant that at this distance, you had to tilt your head up towards him. Normally the fact that omnics couldn’t change their expression without augmentation didn’t bother you, but Ramattra was especially hard to read.

“Um, thanks for coming to my rescue,” you smile at him. He nods at you.

The sounds of metallic footsteps clues you into the fact that Vitri was running towards you, and he quickly stands in between you and Ramattra. The batter backs away, giving him space.

“Hey!” Vitri yells, “You keep away from her-!”

“No- no Vitri it’s ok! It’s all solved now, Ramattra just fended off a creep.”

“I- … he what?” Vitri stares at you incredulously, looking back at Ramattra. The omnic stands unwaveringly.

“Oh, um, then. Thank you. For keeping her safe,” Vitri ‘coughs’, correcting himself. “So you’re good here?”

“Yeah, we’re fine Vitri. Thanks for worrying.”

“Ok. If you’re sure, I’ll be back with Neela, unless you want me to stay?”

“Uh…” you look at Ramattra, who’s standing as if he was addressing a military leader. “It’s ok Vitri, go ahead. I think I’m going to chat with Ramattra for a while, if that’s fine with you, I mean?”

Ramattra tilts his head, you assume a ‘yes’, and Vitri, being an omnic you know well, looks at you with shifty eyes.

“Ok. I’ll leave you two alone, then,” He emphasizes, a teasing tone in his voice that leaves you wanting to smack him, before he promptly returns to the drink station.

For the first time since he drove Mick away, Ramattra addresses you. “(Y/n). Can we go outside? It’s loud.”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,”

Normally you’d be afraid to end up having to confront Ramattra alone, thinking back to the times where you’d pass him alone in the hallway and pointedly looking at the floor. But the way he made Mick run made you feel safe. Maybe it was quick judgement on your part, but you’d really like to trust him.

It wasn’t as if his apparent attractiveness escaped your notice.

You went outside the basketball court. It was on a floor slightly higher than the ground, and that gave you a short ‘balcony’ area with railings. At night it was nice and private, the street lamps of the campus few and far between, giving you just enough light but not enough to distract. You and Ramattra find a bench which you sat on. Politely, Ramattra sits half a space away from you.

You sat there with him in silence. Every once in a while he would move, you assume to speak, but he’d stop. He didn’t know where to put his hands, putting them beside him then on his lap, then back beside him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being shy.

“Something on your mind, Ram?”

He starts. “What did you call me?”

“Oh- uh, sorry. It was the first nickname to come to mind, I didn’t mean to offend,”

“No, no. I like it. Everyone on the team calls me that.” He assures you. “I was just looking at the stars,”

You look up to the sky with him. “The stars?”

“You can see them here, but it makes me miss home. You can see much more of them there. I used to count them with my brother,”

“You have a brother?”

“Zenyatta. Brothers by name, not blood.”

“I see,” you didn’t know that, but it makes sense. Out of everyone, Ramattra seemed to be closest to the star pitcher. “I miss the stars back home too. The air is much clearer and there’s so little lights around you can see the whole milky way. I’d never dream to count the stars there- but I liked to lay on a blanket outside, and see how many constellations I could find that night.”

“Constellations,” Ramattra repeats, “I’d like to learn about your constellations one day. We have constellations too,”

“R-really?!”

Ramattra points to the sky.

“That’s the dragonfly.”

It was a chain of 5 stars as its body, with a few stray ones around it as its wings.

“I didn’t know omnics had different constellations,” you say with awe.

“I could teach you more of them, sometime,” Ramattra offers, “If you teach me yours,”

“That sounds fine to me,” you nod at him.

You spend a bit longer in silence. The tension was thinner now, that he spoke. It was weird, hearing the normally wordless omnic get so chatty. Somehow, it made the omnic seem less intimidating, less like the campus ghost that haunted the hallways and frequently frightened passerby. He was a person.

“Hey,” you say at length. “Can I ask you something?”

Ramattra nods.

“Uh,” now that you’re actually doing it, you could feel your heartbeat rise to your throat, and you swallow. “Why… why are you always staring at me?”

He sputters, and you quickly try to explain yourself.

“I-I mean, you’re always looking at me, whenever I see you. In the hallway, at the campus cafe during lunch, a-and when I watch the games!”

You’ve never seen the man so bashful before. Ramattra had pulled his cap to cover his face and was turtling into his uniform. How can someone so big act so small?

Ramattra coughs, and you never realized a cough could sound so handsome.

“I am so sorry about that,” he apologizes, sounding defeated. “I’ve always liked you, (Y/n). But I’ve been waiting for the right moment- or perhaps, I was too timid to speak to you. I wanted to confess to you here, tonight, more elegantly, but it that’s not what happened. I’m sorry,”

He. “You what?”

“I’m-”

“The rumors are true?!” You squeal in disbelief. Ramattra looks shocked, and leans towards you.

“Rumors? What rumors?”

“I mean, I literally just learnt about this like, ten minutes ago, but. Vitri said the omnics around this campus say you have a crush on me, or- or something,” you add in the end, suddenly feeling unconfident though the man just admitted to liking you.

He stares at you, similarly to how he always did. You’ve never seen it so close, though. Even with the context, it’s no wonder you were intimidated by him. He was intense.

“Zenyatta…” he mutters, before he adds “It’s true. I like you,”

You falter under his eyes.

“O-oh,” you giggle, your cheeks warming. “I uh, I always thought you were gonna kill me or something, haha,”

“What? Why?”

Was he that unaware of how he was coming off to you?

 “Because you were always glaring at me! Especially when I watched the games, you’d be staring at me… while holding a bat. What was I supposed to think?”

“Oh,” he leans away from you, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be intimidating.”

“Then, what were you trying to do?”

Ramattra… steams? There was a gush of air from everywhere in his body, not just his mouth, and you could hear his machinery clicking inside him before they settle.

Huh. I’ve never seen that before.

“I was,” he sounds hesitant. “I was trying to gage your expression. Everytime I did good on the field, I wanted to know what you thought. It makes sense now why you looked so unnerved,”

“Wait, hold on. Were you trying to… show off?”

He exhales, this time through his mouth.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, months of tension from perceived hostility draining out of you. “That explains a lot. I didn’t know you were cute,”

“You. You think I’m cute?”

You blush at the question. “I-I mean, well, it’s just not expected, you know? You’re this… cool omnic guy on the Iris team, one of the best. You’re so strong and cool- and you keep to yourself. You scare most people on campus. It’s just, you don’t expect that guy to be having a crush on you all this time, and that silent scary face was just shy.”

He’s silent for a while, staring at you. Then, “Do you like me?”

He asks so bluntly you stammer. “Y-yeah. I always thought you were handsome, you know, before you started acting scary. You’re a real attractive guy,”

“... You’re very pretty. And cute.” He breathes.

If your eyes could twinkle, they definitely were.

“Th- thank you, Ramattra.”

He’s leaning in closer now.

“Can I,” he murmurs, “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t know omnics breathed, like, really breathed. You could feel it on your face with how close he was. With anyone else, it’d be too close for comfort and you’d loudly deny that request, but… for some reason, with Ramattra, you could only feel your cheeks getting redder, and your heart pounding in your ears. You’ve never kissed an omnic, and you find yourself staring at his mouth.

Not knowing why, you answer, “... Yes.”

Ramattra moves. He gets up from his seat and stands in front of you, taking his hat off, scrunched in one of his hands, before bracing them on the back of the bench, on either side of you. He’s so close to you, you could see the optics in his faceplate, his eyes peeking from within their slits, looking deeply into yours. You feel goosebumps on your neck, his free, mechanical hand brushing hair behind your ear. His breath fans your lips, and you close your eyes as he closes the distance.

He kisses gently. You weren’t expecting that, you were expecting him to be a bit rougher, but no. You find yourself really enjoying this. He was surprisingly warm, and though you were expecting the sensation to be akin to kissing a flat metal sheet, he felt alive. He moves against your lips, the softest of presses against you. Despite the slow, soft way he was kissing you, you quickly find yourself becoming overwhelmed. Slow meant long, and he kisses you so tenderly and delicately that it felt… intimate. A private moment no one else is supposed to see, unspoken affection all directing at you.

When he finally pulls away from you, your mind is spinning. You looked up at him with new excitement, confusion, and something else. Ramattra doesn’t seem all that collected either, his breaths becoming more labored, his chest visibly rising and falling, his mouth slightly parted. When he pulls his hand back, he double takes at his hat, and it’s not hard to see why.

“R-Ramattra?” You say in alarm, “your hat..!”

As he peels his fingers from his hat, you could see how abused and crumpled it looked, thoroughly crushed. And when he pulls on the panels, you could see the omnic actually left puncture holes from where his fingers had pushed the hardest.

Instead of irritation however, Ramattra actually looks delighted.

“This… is great!” He exclaims, holding it up to the nearest light. “A memento of my first kiss.”

You sit there, staring up at him. “What,” you questioned, “do you mean that was your first?!”

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

13: This Side Of Paradise

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: them being them :)

a/n: hi loooooovessssss I hope everyone is dping fine!! LEt's see if someone remembers what other chapter started like this one ;) (btw, jsut to give a hint, the pictures of all the headers are a hint of how their relationship improves)

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Something heavy was wrapping my waist. And the duvet is not that heavy.

And it feels warm… So warm… My whole body feels warm.

A hand was rubbing my belly, drawing soft circles with the fingers on the places the tiny baby inside of me kicked. His breathing was hitting my shoulder and his leg tangled with mine.

I opened my eyes slowly, looking down at the hand of my belly and following with my eyes the arm, turning my head to find Charles' body on top of the pillow wall.

“Morning” he whispered, looking at me with a smile.

“Morning” I whispered, closing my eyes and smiling when his hand didn't stop rubbing my belly. “The baby seems happy to feel your hand”

“Yeah, right? I’ve been awake for a while, feeling the little kicks non-stop,” he said, pressing gently against a particularly active spot. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“What? The kicks? They are not too harsh at the moment” I sighed. 

He smiled and nodded, closing his eyes too and moving slowly closer to me. This feels… Good, somehow. So good that it actually scares me.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked softly, his breath warm against my shoulder as his lips brushed my skin.

“Actually? I'm craving avocado toast” I smiled.

“Then avocado toast for two” he smiled, getting up from the bed, making me sigh.

Why did I sigh? Was it because I already missed his touch, his lips brushing my skin but never quite kissing me? Just a month ago, I couldn't stand the sight of him. Now, I crave his touch. How did we get here?

I followed him with my eyes, watching how jumped out of the bed and rushed to open his wardrobe, grabbing clean clothes before he went to the bathroom, turning on the shower after some seconds. I heard some soft groans and things falling to the floor, making me laugh softly.

 He stayed in the bathroom for some minutes before walking out again, dressed with the clothes he had grabbed and his hair dry. What? He took a shower, why is his hair dry?

I looked at him, watching how his cheek had a slight red color and he tried to avoid my gaze. Did he…?

“I'm going to the kitchen” he said after clearing his throat. “I don't have tea… Is coffee allowed during pregnancy?”

“Yeah” I sighed. “But only once a day”

“Oh, that must be hard” he tried to joke, making me roll my eyes. “I mean, you are Italian, an espresso lover”

“And also a Brit, a tea lover” I pointed. “But yeah, I can't have a lot of those drinks… I read somewhere on the internet that it is good if I have tea twice a day and coffee once…”

“Yeah…” he sighed. “Remind me to make an appointment for you”

“We talked about it, Charles…” I sighed, shaking my head. 

“I know, you want privacy and keep a lower profile with the pregnancy” he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed close to me. “But you need to do check ups to see how our baby is going. Don't you want to know the gender?”

“I mean… I would love to” I sighed, looking at him, watching how his hand flew again to my belly, rubbing it on top of the shirt. 

“Do you want a gender reveal party?” he chuckled.

“Only if our family is there” I smiled weakly. “Do you… Do you want to tell the other drivers?”

“I mean… I would probably tell Pierre” he nodded. “If that's okay with you. And ask him if he wants to come to the gender reveal in case we make one”

“You really want to turn finding out the baby’s gender into a show, huh?” I laughed, shaking my head at the idea.

“It's funny!” he defended himself, hitting my thigh softly. “Its just an excuse to make our families meet again after everything that happened, to give them what they wanted since a lot of time…”

“Yeah…” I sighed. “Okay, let's do it”

“What, really?” he said, surprised. “I was joking!”

“No, no. I think you were right” I sighed, sitting on the bed and looking at him. “We need to give them what they want. They wanted us to stop fighting, then let's show them that”

He nodded and smiled, his hand rubbing my belly and moving to my waist, leaving it there for a few seconds. I looked into his eyes and then at his lips, but then I just looked away, clearing my throat.

“Well, I'll help you make breakfast” I nodded, moving the bed clothes and standing up.

I stretched, wincing at the familiar ache in my back. As I moved around the room to grab clothes from my backpack, I felt Charles’ eyes on me, a silent, comforting presence.

“What?” I frowned, looking at him.

“Nothing” he smiled. “You just… You look beautiful”

“Oh, shut up” I mumbled, looking away and blushing slightly.

How will I survive if he keeps acting like this? He keeps looking at me like that, standing close to me whenever he can, looking at me with those green eyes.

“Will you leave that beard?” I asked, looking at him.

“Why? You like it?” he chuckled. 

I bite my lip and look away, grabbing my jeans and putting them on, sighing when I feel they don't fit again. I just ignored him, walking out of the room and heading to the kitchen, opening the fridge and sighing.

We made breakfast in silence, helping each other, like a team, finally.

While we ate he grabbed his laptop and started searching things about pregnancy, about what he should know, what reads he’ll buy to know more about what will happen until the baby arrives. And somehow, watching him read everything fully focused made the tinglings on my stomach get more notorious.

Maybe it's the baby, knowing that Charles is interested.

I helped him take the last things he needed to take to the villa. But he only let me carry his coat and scarf.

“I think I'm going to take the bigger car” he sighed, looking at the keys he has on the entry of his apartment. “You were uncomfortable during the trip, right?”

“Don't worry, really” I smiled, shaking my head. “But… Can you let me drive at the start?” 

“What? Why?” he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Come on, I might be pregnant, but I still can drive” I said, rolling my eyes. “And there's a place I need to go before we leave”

“Okay” he sighed, grabbing the keys of his SUV.

I bit my lip, smiling nervously at the thought of our destination.

Charles and I walked to the elevator and this time I stood close to him, feeling how his hand reached mine and his pinky finger tangled with mine, making me try to hide a smile by looking to the side.

“I never saw you with this car” I said, walking to the bigger car he owns, not like the other Ferrari he has. 

“I normally use it when I go to train somewhere away” he sighed. “But… I think this will be a good car for us… You know, like… We can buy a baby chair and put it on the backseats and it has enough space to put the baby carrier on the back”

I looked at him and then at the car, and somehow the images of him opening the door of the backseats and picking up a baby started to show in my mind. Images of him folding and I folding the baby carrier. Images of him holding our baby.

I shook my head slightly, trying to dispel the images from my mind.

“Oh, nice” I nodded, looking away and walking to the driver seat.

I took a deep breath, adjusting the seat and looking at him sitting on the passenger seat next to me. He sighed, trying to not look nervous while I drove the car out of the garage. 

“Where are we going?” he asked curious.

“You'll see, be patient” I smiled looking at him.

I drove around the streets, doing the same route I do whenever I come to Monaco.

I saw people turning their heads and looking at the car, some people surprised to see who was driving and others to see both of us in the car. When I stopped the car at a red traffic light, I saw people grabbing their phones and taking pictures of the car and the inside of it.

“I guess the rumors will start now” I sighed. 

“Yeah…” Charles sighed, rubbing his temple. “I’m really sorry… I know this isn't what you wanted.”

“It's okay” I smiled weakly, looking at him. “We started it yesterday by walking hand in hand inside of that restaurant”

I heard him sigh heavily, grabbing his sunglasses and putting them on. I smiled weakly, my gaze lingering on his hand. My fingers twitched with the urge to hold it, to place it on my belly.

The red light changed to green and I started the car again, driving through the streets and soon parking the car.

“What are we doing here?” Charles mumbled, already knowing where we were.

“I think we owe them something” I sighed, opening the door and walking towards him, standing next to him.

He took a deep breath and nodded, holding my hand tightly while we walked inside the cemetery. It was quiet, the only thing you could hear was the sound of our feet walking through the gravel, the trees moving with the soft breeze and some birds chirping melodies on top of our heads.

The first grave we found was Jules', since he was one of the celebrities buried in this cemetery and some Ferrari followers came here to place flowers for him.

I felt a shiver running down my spine, making me take a deep breath and bite my lip.

Jules knew Charles was only teasing me when we were kids. He always told me to not take things seriously, that I had to think that Charles was only a silly kid. And now, thinking about it, thinking that maybe he knew how Charles felt, just made me realize that he was another one who wished we ended up together.

“Jules…” I heard Charles sigh, squeezing my hand softly and letting it go, only to wrap his arm around my shoulders and pulling me even closer to him. “I miss him so much”

“Me too” I whispered..

“I wish he was here to look at us” I sighed, placing my hand on top of the one has on my shoulder. 

“He's up there” he said. “Jules is looking at us from above, he always did”

I smiled weakly and nodded, wrapping my arm around his waist and walking with him to the other grave. Somehow, having him this close to me feels good. Breathing his scent, feeling his warm body against mine, his hand on my shoulder. I felt his breathing start to get heavier and his hand over my shoulder moving to intertwine his fingers with mines.

“Hey dad” he whispered.

I looked at him, smiling weakly. His eyes were looking at the grave with the name of his father engraved. I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him..

We stayed in silence but I could hear what he was thinking about. I could feel all his fear, his sadness, his doubts. He had many questions, all those questions written on his face.

“Charles…” I whispered, seeing the tears well up in his eyes.

“What am I going to do?” he whispered. “I can't have him here, Dafne. He's not here, he won't meet our baby. He couldn't even see us not hating each other”

“I know, Charles. I know” I sighed, facing him and placing my hand on his cheek, feeling his beard against my skin. 

“I just… I forgot about him” he mumbled looking at the grave.. “I didn't think about him. And I feel so disappointed with myself. When I found out about the pregnancy I only focused on you and stopped thinking about me. I'm a terrible son, how can I be a good father?”

“Hey, don't think that” I sighed. 

“But it's true, Dafne” he sighed, placing his hands on my waist. 

“You are not a terrible son” I whispered. “You were the best. You stayed next to him during all his life, even when he was sick. And you are going to be an amazing father too, okay? You hear me? You are just overwhelmed”

He nodded slowly trying to not look at me, his eyes moving everywhere. I sighed and let go of his cheek, taking a step back.

“We should go,” I sighed. “We still have a stop in Maranello before heading home.”

“Yeah” he sighed, holding my hand again and walking out of the cemetery towards the car.

He stayed silent all the time.

His hand was on top of my belly, rubbing it softly while hisnother hand held the steering wheel. The music was playing soft on the speakers.

But he didn't say anything since we got out of Monaco.

And somehow it made me feel bad.

Did I do something bad by bringing him to the cemetery? Or by hugging him? Is it bad?

I thought we were okay, kinda. Last night I told him that I wanted us to work. And this morning I didn't push him away when I woke up with him next to me.

At our rest stops, Charles stayed in the car while I went to buy food and drinks. He didn't even smile when I handed him his favorite snacks.

And it was enough for me.

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you?” I frowned. 

He looked at me with confusion in his eyes, making me scoff and raise my hands.

“You've been ignoring me since we left the cemetery” I pointed. “You are making me feel bad! Was it a mistake? Well, I'm sorry!”

“It's not that” he sighed.

“Then what is it? Just say it! I can't read your mind” I frowned, moving on the seat to face him.

“I…” he sighed, taking a deep breath and resting his head on his seat. “I'm scared, I guess. Of disappointing everyone, disappointing the baby. Disappointing you”

“Charles…” I sighed.

“I don't want to get high hopes” he said. “Since you hugged me in the cemetery, I kept repeating in my mind that you are doing this because of the baby. That you are letting me touch you because of the baby and nothing else. Yes, you said last night that you were tired of pushing me away, but somehow I got scared of this just being an illusion”

I looked at him, surprised. He's always the one that tries to put some sense in my mind since he decided to stay with me. Always trying to talk with me and making me realize that he wouldn't run away. He didn't even flinch when he confessed that he was in love with me.

But now, seeing him like this, so insecure, so… 

“It's not an illusion” I sighed. “Charles, I… I want this, I really do. I know I did everything to push you away, I even ran away from you in the middle of the cold night. But… The way you took care of me while I was sick, the way you touch my belly… I don't know. I'm confused and scared too”

He looked at me, somehow his eyes were sad. I sighed, holding his hand between mine, feeling his warm skin against my cold one.

“I'm scared” I whisper. “I'm so scared of giving up and falling for you. I'm so scared of putting my walls down for you. But God, everytime you touch me it makes me want to stop fighting. But I keep repeating in my mind everything we did, everything we went through. And I try to convince myself that that is not us anymore”

I watched as his throat bobbed and his jaw tightened. His hand found mine, slowly warming my cold skin

“I'm scared of what people would say about us” he whispered. “You saw what happened yesterday with my friends. I don't even want to think about what people that don't know us will say…”

“We can't control that” I mumbled. 

“I know” he nodded. “But I want to protect you. You and the baby. And I'm so scared of failing you, of disappointing you again”

“You won't…”

“I will” he insisted, looking into my eyes. “Again and again, like the previous years. Because the only thing I do is mess things up and make them even worse. I crossed a line, Dafne. And I'm so scared of crossing more and actually hurt you”

Taking a deep breath, I brought his hands to my lips, softly kissing his fingers. I then placed his hand on my cheek, leaning into his touch for the first time.

“I crossed a line myself” I said. “One of the lines I draw for you”

“What…?” he mumbled, confused.

“And you crossed another line when you touched my belly for the first time” I whispered. “And did I argue?”

“No” he whispered, his eyes following my movements, watching how my fingers played with his fingers.

“I'm letting you in, can't you see?” I sighed. “No illusions, no fake hopes. I'm letting you in,, and not because you are related to this baby. I'm letting you in because I want to believe that we can change, that we can be a family”

“But why I keep feeling that you are just a step away from me?” he whispered.

“Give me time” I smiled weakly. “Give me time to get used to this. To you. To us. Because there will be an us, Charles. Really. I'm in. I'm really in”

As the words left my lips, I watched a warm smile slowly spread across his face, reaching his eyes.

“Can we just skip going to Maranello today and go back home?” I smiled weakly. “I just need my bed”

“Mine wasn't that bad” he laughed softly, making me smile after hearing his laugh.

“It wasn't, the problem was that I had half of the bed, not all of it” I teased.

He laughed again and sighed, looking at me. He moved my hands with him until his lips touched my fingers, kissing them softly while he held my gaze.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah” I nodded.

His smile made me smile too. And the tinglings in my stomach started to be more frenetic.

“Let's go home” he smiled, holding my hand and turning on the engine of the car, driving to that house that is a refuge for me, my baby and Charles.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins @glitterquadricorn @ladystardust05 @theseerbetweenus @vizzzashley @auawdo @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @leptitlu @green-thots @caterinemirandax_ @mid5nights

[justmeinadaze]

Smutty request here....massage therapist(s) Eddie and/or Steve 🥴

Got me feeling all the things

Happy Ending (Steddie X You)

A/N: So this intimidated me a bit because I don't a whole lot about massages and that field. But I ran with what I know and put a spin on it. I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Masseuses Steddie and you and all that implies (I regret nothing), mentions of stress from the read and a broken heart, she is aware that they provide more than just massages, DP (I said what I said), they are gentle with her for the most part but their is slight allusions to Dom/Sub dynamics (spanking, some bratty behavior, and stern tones), I think that's it.

Word Count: 6244

“Trust me, Y/N, these two will change your life.”

“They’re masseuses. It’s a massage, Deb.”

“Yes and no.” You stare at your friend as you sarcastically blink in her direction making her laugh so hard she almost spits out her drink. “Yes, they massage your body but they also do…other things…to help you relax.”

“Nope. No thank you. I’m good.”

“Y/N! Wait, come on.” She reaches for you hand as you start to get up from the lunch table you two were eating at. “Listen… you remember how hard things were for me a few months ago? I was working 80-hour weeks trying to get that promotion, my mom was scolding me because I’m still not married, and then add in being broke as hell.” Your friend sighed as you placed your palm over her hand.  

“Someone suggested them and I thought ‘Hey, what do I have to lose?’ When I met them, they were so kind and gentle. I swear for a second, I forgot I was even worried about anything. And that was before the…ahem…happy ending.” You blush as you both giggle. Debbie suddenly leans in closer to you, lowering her voice. 

“They both do the massaging part but you can decide who makes your ending a happy one. Personally, I chose the tall, pretty one. Not that the other one wasn’t cute…he’s just not my type, you know?”

“You can only have one?”

Your friend gasps as she playfully hits your arm. “You whore!”

“What?! I’m just asking! More so out of curiosity.”, you shrug. “I guess not everyone is into that kind of…kink but…I mean if you’re hiring them knowing what they do…wouldn’t you want to take the opportunity?”

“Goddamn, I will never understand why Tony cheated on you.” Your eyes meet hers as she softly smiles. “You’re sweet, funny, fucking gorgeous, and apparently really open minded when it comes to ménage à trois.”

You return her smile with one of your own as you lean back in your chair. “Yeah, well, if you ever find that out will you let me know?”

****

You sigh as you enter your big, empty apartment. Tony, your ex-fiancé, was supposed to come by while you were out today with your friend to get the last of his things. Now half of your home was quite literally gone. 

As you hugged your arms around yourself you noticed a note on the kitchen counter. 

“Y/N,

I think I got everything but if I forgot something can you save it and let me know? 

This was incredibly hard for me. I love you so much, baby. Can’t we just—”

You crumple the letter without bothering to read the rest. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. You heard it all before you caught him with her that night and after you threw him out.

After grabbing a beer from the fridge, you held the card Debbie gave you for the masseuses, tracing your fingers over the number.

“Ugh! Fuck it.”, you exhale as you reach for the phone.

It rings a few times but right as you begin to rethink what you’re doing; music suddenly blares through the line. 

“Yeah! Hello?”

“Um, hi. I’m looking for the Munson-Harrington massage people…thing.”

The man on the other end chuckles as he lowers the heavy metal in the background. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard us called that before. Massage people thing… Yeah, you got one of them here. How can I help you, sweetheart?”

“I, um, my friend recommended I utilize your services.”

“Do you always talk this dirty or are we special?”

“I don’t know. Are you always this much of asshole or am I just that special.”, you growl.

The music on the other end abruptly stops and you hear movement on the other end. 

“You sound like your absolutely special. Are you a little nervous?”

You sigh as you lean against the kitchen the wall. “Yeah. I’ve never done anything like this before. Not even regular…massages. Deb, my friend, said you guys changed her life. My life kind of sucks right now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to and you definitely don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. My friend and I just want to help you relax. Pretty sounding girl like you deserves a clear head.”

“Hm. I bet you say that to everyone who calls.”

“You’re right. I did tell the telemarketer before you that he sounded gorgeous.”

That made you genuinely laugh. “What’s your name?”

“Eddie. I’m the Munson in the name. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” You slide down to the floor as you take another swig of the drink in your hand. “Is the Harrington part of your company there?”

“Yes ma’am, he is. Would you like to say hello?”

“If that’s ok. I don’t want to impose or anything.”

“HARRINGTON! There’s a pretty girl on the phone who would like to speak with you.”

You listen to Eddie pass the phone as he tells the other boy your name. 

“Y/N? Hey, I’m Steve. I heard you wanted to talk to me.”

“Are you an asshole like your friend?”

“I can be when I need to. Eddie! What did you do to this girl?”

“Nothing! She started it by calling and being adorable.”

“Oh my god.”, you giggle. “You guys are good.”

“And we haven’t even touched you yet.” Your breathing stuttered at his comment. He said it with so much confidence as if he already knew his hands (and services) would blow you away. “Are you still with me, honey?”

“Yeah, um, Eddie said that…we could go slow and if I didn’t want…the…”

“He’s right. We want you to be comfortable. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Y/N. If you just want a massage that’s fine. If you just want to talk that’s fine to.”

You exhale heavily into the phone before finally making up your mind. 

“Okay. I’m free on Friday.”

############

“Shit, shit, shit!” You continue to curse as you run down your apartment building hallway. “I am so sorry I’m late! Work kept me late and—”

You froze you saw them sitting outside your door, quickly rising when your eyes meet theirs. 

“Hey, no problem.” One of the boy’s grins as he extends his hand for you to shake. “I’m Steve. This is Eddie.”

“The asshole.”, he teases as his gigantic palm encapsulates your own. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off them; they weren’t what you were expecting at all. You assumed Steve was the “tall, pretty one” your friend had mentioned but to you they were both handsome. Eddie had that kind of metalhead look you’d seen walking the streets of your town with his leather jacket and long hair. His Metallica shirt rested perfectly above his belt that was holding up his blue jeans. 

Steve looked like the everyday 80’s guy you saw in most romance movies at the theater but his smile radiated a confidence that made you feel safe. His muscle-bound arms in his polo caused a little sigh to escape your lips as your eyes traced the rest of his figure. 

“Do we…have to do a chant or something?”

You glanced at Eddie completely confused until he gestured towards the front door. 

“Oh, fuck, right. I’m sorry. My head is just…” You clumsily turn your key in the lock and allow them entry into your home. 

“Wow. This place is really nice.”

“Uh, thank you. My fiancé, well ex-fiancé, and I wanted a bigger place closer to the city since we both worked over here. Do you…would you guys like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. We appreciate the offer.” Steve smiles in your direction making your knees a bit weak. “You can have something though if you want.”

“Thanks? I mean with it being my apartment and all.”

“Ah, there’s that sass I was waiting for.” Eddie flashes you a tooth filled grin.

After pouring yourself the strongest drink you could find, you watched them set up near your living room. Your eyes continued to rake over them as they exchanged small talk with each other, allowing you some space to get more comfortable with their presence.

The phone ringing startled you as you turned to give it your attention. Before you could pick it up it routed to the voicemail and Tony’s voice flowed through. 

“Y/N? Babe, are you there? Please, I just want to talk.” Your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to his excuses. You hated being alone and this gigantic apartment was just another reminder that he wasn’t by your side anymore. You missed Tony terribly but no one in the world had ever hurt you as badly as he had. “…I swear to God, she meant nothing to me. I’m just a fucking idiot.”

Feeling a sudden warmth, you opened your eyes to meet Eddie’s as he towered over you. You glanced at Steve whose own face reflected the same sympathy as his friend. 

“…I felt so fucking lonely, Y/N. You were always at work and I felt like you never had time for me. Baby, I know what it’s like to sit in that apartment all by yourself, hurting. Please just talk to me—”

“Hey. Just so you’re aware you are a fucking idiot. She’s not sitting here alone crying her eyes out over some asshole who broke her heart. Y/N has moved on and you should to. Stop calling.”

After hanging up the phone, the metalhead turned to face you again. “I hope that was ok.”

Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his waist, clinging to him as you sighed into his chest. His arms gradually came down to hold you to him as his cheek rested on your head. 

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. I’m not going to lie, Stevie, we may want to reconsider taking a payment in a hug because this is quite comfortable.”

They both laugh as you pull away and smile at them. 

“We’re ready whenever you are, honey.”, Steve grins as he points towards their makeshift table.

#########

Your eyes remain glued in front of you as you listen to Eddie move about the apartment. 

“Y/N.”, Steve whispers from behind you as his breath warms your ear. “Remember, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk if you want or we can even leave. No hard feelings. We understand how uncomfortable this situation can be especially since you don’t know us but that makes it a little bit freeing to.”

“Can, um, can I ask you for a favor?” You softly smile when you turn to look at him and he nods. “Can you…take off my clothes? I-I-I don’t think I…”, you ask, stuttering through your nerves. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I can. Did you want to keep anything on?”

“Is that an option?”, you giggle. 

“Sweetheart, you hold all the power here.” Eddie slides up beside his friend, now jacketless with no shoes. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone let alone naked in front of someone. Tony wasn’t lying about that. I’ve always been busy with work and—”

Steve gently places his index finger over your lips. “Nothing that asshole says matters. I don’t care if you were on the moon, he had no right to cheat on you.” His finger glides down from your mouth to your blouse as he begins undoing the buttons while the other man shifts behind you and unclips your skirt. 

Both garments fall effortlessly to the floor as Steve continues watching your face for any signs of hesitation or discomfort. 

“We’re going to do this one at a time, ok? I’m going to take off your bra and then Eddie’s going to remove your panties.”

Once he gets your approval, he leans over your shoulder and begins unhooking your bra from your body. You don’t know if it’s because he’s being so sweet or if it’s because his strong cologne wafts into your nostrils but something inside of you causes you to turn and softly kiss his cheek. 

Steve pulls back slightly, looking through your eyes till a small smile flickers across his lips. He and his friend had been doing this for a while but not one of them had been as tender at you had just been. He knew there was something different about you when he spoke to you on the phone and he knew Eddie felt it to when the metalhead completely turned off his music to talk to you. 

He hoped he wasn’t misreading things and took a leap of faith as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead before tossing your bra near the rest of your clothes.

Strong hands on your waist turned you so you were now facing Eddie as he sunk down on his heels, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, and delicately tugged them down your legs. The pads of his digits traced along your skin causing a little shiver to run up your spine. 

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N.”

“I’m sure you say that to everyone.”

His grin grows as he stands up and looks down at you. “I did have a date with that telemarketer I told you about. Turns out he WAS really good looking.”

Steve smiled behind you when you laughed, gently guiding you towards their table, and helping you up as you lay on your stomach. Folding your arms above you, you rest your head on them like a pillow. The metalhead digs in a bag before kneeling in front of you again till his face was level with your own. 

“Which do you like better?” He holds up bottles to your nose and you point to one that smells like vanilla. 

“What are those?”

“Oil. Steve’s the smell guy and knows how to utilize them better than I do.” He stands up and passes the bottle you chose to his friend. 

“Honey, we’re going to touch you now, alright? It might feel a little weird at first because of the oil but if at any point you get uncomfortable and want to stop or take a break just let us know.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes, unsure of what to prepare for but when a set of hands begins rubbing into you back, you can’t help but let out a soft, low moan. “Shit. I’m—”

“Princess, this is your house. Make all the noise you want to and please don’t be embarrassed.”

“You can also talk to us if you want to. Maybe about things you’re stressed about.”

A second set of hands find your calves and a strong exhale leave your lips. “Honestly, you heard my main bit of stress.”

“Fucker Magee?”, Eddie asks. 

“Yeah.”, you giggle. “Everyone in my life thinks I’m overreacting and I should forgive him.”

“Um, we may not know the whole story but the man you were going to marry cheated on you. I think you’re reacting properly.” Steve’s hands trailed along your spine and back down to your hips. 

“I went to visit him at work and they were fucking in his office. Some pretty, young, big breasted coworker.” 

“What a bitch.” You smiled as Eddie laughed at his own comment, his palms massaging along your thighs and back down to your feet. “For how long?”

“A few months. We…we were supposed to get married next month.”

Fingers came up to firmly knead into your shoulders. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Steve watched your lips form into a thin line before you pressed your face into your arms. As soon as you felt your emotions were in check, you turned your head back to the side. 

“That feels good actually.”

“Did you think the massage business part was just for show?”, Steve laughed.

“I mean… I don’t know. I don’t want to be rude.”

“Said the girl who called me an asshole.”

“To be fair, you were being one.” It feels almost on purpose when Eddie’s fingers slide up between your thighs just barely near your core before sliding back down your legs.

“You’re not wrong, sweetheart.”

Steve’s own hands glide up your sides, grazing the sides of your breasts before looping back around to your shoulder blades.  

“I hope I’m not being too forward but you have a beautiful body.”

“No, you’re not being too…thank you. Um, you-you can go a little higher if you want.”

“Who are you talking to, honey? Me or Ed?”

“Eddie… You can go higher to. If you want to…”

The hands on your back lifted off you as Steve came around to kneel in front of you on his heels. “How about we take it slow, huh? One thing at a time.” His palm petted your head as he moved the hair back from your face. You let out a little gasp when you felt the metalhead’s fingers slide between your folds. “Are you okay?”

You nodded as you bit your bottom lip, lifting one of your legs up the table to allow him more accesses. This man felt like a master with his fingers as he rubbed circles slowly into your clit.

“Pl-please.”, you whine. 

“Please what, Y/N? What do you need?

“Can…can I turn around? On my back.”

“Of course, pretty girl. Whatever you want.”

They patient waited for you to roll over before Eddie placed his thumb back on your nub. You watched with heavy, lust driven eyes as he stuck two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva, and sliding them into your sex. 

“Oh wow, princess. You’re tight.” He exhaled, trying to hide the little moan that wanted to be heard. 

Steve stood back up to his full height, coming around to stand behind your head as he reached down and ran his hands over your tits, massaging them gently but firmly. 

“F-fuck.”, you whimpered. As your back arched, you could help but notice the bulge in his pants. When you tried to touch it with your palm, he jumped back like you startled him. 

“Hey. Um, you…you don’t have to do that, honey. We’re here for you.”

“You don’t want me to feel you?”

Your voice sounded so small; Steve felt his cock twitch. “I…I do…I just…you don’t have to.”

Grabbing his shirt, you yanked his lips to yours. The combination of man and mint on his tongue had you clenching tighter around the other boy’s fingers making him groan, this time much louder than before. 

“I want to.” You slid further up the table, allowing your head to hang a bit over the edge, licking your lips as the man pulls down his shorts just enough for his dick to spring free. “Jesus. I’ve never had anyone as big as you are before.”

He smirks as he subtly chuckles. “You can’t say things like that or else I’m going to cum before you even touch me.”

Your tiny hand reaches for him as he steps closer, mewling when your tongue runs along his tip. You don’t see it but the men give each other a cursory glance. This is a little out of bounds for them in the sense of they rarely ever have the women they massage service them in this way and on the off chance a client does it’s usually during the second part when they are alone with one of them in the bedroom. 

Steve continues to be gentle with you as he runs his fingers through your hair when you wrap your lips around his hard, now throbbing length. Eddie thrusts his fingers into you at a faster pace and your moans vibrate through to the boy in your mouth. 

“Goddamn, Y/N. Your mouth feels so good. Your ex is a fucking idiot.”

They both take note of your reaction, your head bobbing faster as your pussy clenches again. 

“He really is, sweetheart. Makes me want to call him back and curse that fucker out.”

Tugging your head back, you continue to pump him with your fist as your hips began to grind up into the metalhead’s hand.

“Fuck, I’m…”

“That’s it, beautiful girl. Just let go. It’s okay.” Eddie pressed the heel of his palm against your clit as he moves his fingers move at a quicker pace. The sound of your slick fills the room and after a few moments your body trembles as you cum. “Good girl. Coming like that. Geez, I’m so fucking hard right now.”

Abruptly, you sit up and grab the back of the man’s neck as you bring his lips to yours. After your release, your kisses were much hungrier and you reveled in the taste him as your hands shot down to fumble with his jeans. 

“Wait…are you sure…you don’t want Steve.”, he asks between kisses. “You’ve kinda…got him…all riled up.”

“Want both.”

Eddie froze as he pulled his head back. When you tried to chase his lips, his palms gripped either side of your face forcing you to focus. 

“Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

“Want to.” You tried to lurch forward again but he was much stronger than you, holding you in place. 

“Y/N, princess, come down from cloud 9 and really think about what you’re asking for.”

You couldn’t control the annoyed exhale or tone as your eyes met his. “Am I not allowed? I can pay you more.”

“It’s not about the money. We—”, Steve began before you cut him off.

“Want me to be comfortable. I know! I know what I’m asking for. Now, do you want to fuck me or not!?”

Ringed fingers snaked into your hair and firmly pulled it back. Something changed in Eddie’s eyes; a look he saved for partners he had in his own bedroom. 

“Control the attitude, Y/N.”, he growled. “Listen to what he’s saying. It’s not about the money and it’s not about getting off. It’s not fun for anyone here if you wake up in the morning with regret. And while this little session here IS all about you, don’t forget we’re people to. We’ve been doing this for years and no one has ever asked to take us both one right after the other.”

“I’m not asking for that either. I want you both…at the same time.” They look at each other again, unsure of what to do or say. Your hand reaches out to turn his attention back to you as you lean your forehead on his. “Please, Eddie. I know what I’m asking for. I need it. I need you both. Please, please, please.” As you keep repeating your last word, you manage to fully unbutton his jeans, glide your hand through the waistband of his boxers, and rub your palm against his cock.

His jaw falls open as your lips trail down his neck.

“I mean…if she thinks she can handle it.” 

Eddie growled again with more vigor as he lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom with Steve in tow. After tossing you onto the bed, he tore off his shirt, and you marveled at his tattoos, crawling on your knees till you were in front of him again. His hands laced in your hair as your tongue descended down his chest, stopping just above his waistline to allow him to shuffle out of his pants. 

The bed dipped behind you, suddenly feeling strong palms grip your hips and lift them a bit higher into the air. Steve’s own tongue licked a long stripe through your folds causing your body to shudder pleasantly at the feeling. Eddie held the base of his cock, allowing the tip to brush against your lips. 

You opened your mouth for him and he wasted no time pushing through, groaning when your warm saliva began coating him. The metalhead was much thicker than his friend and at times you struggled to take him, gagging around his dick as he occasionally hit the back of your throat. 

The strong vibrations of your moans as Steve latched his mouth to your clit had Eddie’s own eyes rolling back as he held on to your hair tighter trying to control himself from just face fucking you till he came.

You weren’t sure if it was on purpose or not but both men were still massaging you with their palms, Steve especially. His hands rubbed and caressed firmly up your lower back, around to your stomach, and down to your thighs as his tongue flicked against your bundle of nerves. While one of Eddie’s hands remained in your hair, the other ran between your shoulder blades and around to your front to knead your breasts adding to your high. 

Your mouth came off the boy in front of you with a pop as drool dangled from your lips. 

“Yes, Steve. Please, you’re going to make me cum.”

You practically screamed as he pressed his mouth further into your core, sucking and licking until you felt the coil snap as you came. Your upper half fell flat against the mattress as you panted, smiling softly as your body continued to twitch. 

Eddie’s fingers left your hair and moved to your shoulders as he lifted you back up to your knees so he could see your face. 

“This is the last time I’m going to ask, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’m sure I want you both inside of me.”

His head tilts to the side at your answer, mostly because it was said correctly, or at least how he liked his questions answered. He wondered if there was a submissive side of you that enjoyed it a bit rougher like they did. Both men NEVER brought that into the bedroom with a client and most of the time none of the women they were with never asked. 

You weren’t asking either but he imagined, like they did, that was something personal for you so you saved it for the man you were dating or intimate with. 

Eddie shook the thoughts from his head as his hand laced around your neck and brought your lips to his again. 

“Seriously, your fiancé is so fucking stupid to let you go.”

You smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his waist as you yanked him closer to you for a hug. He could get used to this. 

“Have you ever done this before?”, Steve asked.

“This exactly, no. Have I ever done anal before? A couple of times. You may need to go a bit slow at first especially since…um…I’ve never had a man, men, as big or thick like you guys.”

You giggle when the boy exhaled again, grabbing your waist, and falling on to the bed with you on top of him. “You have to stop saying things like that. You’re going to kill me!”  

“What, do you want me to lie? ‘Oh Daddy. Your cock is average size and will definitely not split me in half.’” Your giggle turned into a full-blown laugh until you notice he had a funny little look on his face. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong? I was just—”

Steve leans up, cutting you off with a passionate kiss. “You’re an interesting woman. Eddie’s right. I seriously don’t understand why anyone would cheat on you. If you were mine, I don’t think I’d ever leave your side.”

“Aw…that’s creepy.”, you playfully smiled.

On impulse, he smacked your ass. They never did that first. Sometime a client would ask for a light spank but he just delivered you one he’s only given to bratty girls in his bedroom. He didn’t mean to but something about you made him comfortable.

“Shit. I…I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, dismissing his apology as you kissed him again. Eddie reached over your shoulder to hand his friend a condom and they both hastily tore into the wrapper before sliding it on. His eyes met yours as he leaned back against your mattress and his hands gripped your waist.

“Whenever you’re ready, honey.”

Nodding, you exhaled the nerves as you tipped forward, and slowly lowered your body to his. You both moaned when his tip breached your entrance and Steve craned his neck to watch himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. 

“Fuck, baby. That’s it. Take your time.”

You heard the metalhead’s heavy breathing behind you as he stroked his cock at the site before him. The sound caused you to clench and a broken mewl left you as you pushed yourself further onto him. 

“Oh my god. You’re so…I can’t…”

His palm glided up your sides to caress your cheek. “Yes, you can, Y/N. You’re doing so good taking me already. Do you want some help?”

When you nodded, he firmly took hold of the back your neck and lowered you till your face was hovering over his. His hips thrust up to meet yours and your mouth fell open. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. I’m going to do it again, ok?” When you nod again, he pumped into you a couple more times till you felt him bottom out. “Good girl. Such a good girl. Jesus, so fucking tight. You feel so good, pretty girl. It’s Eddie’s turn. Let him know when you’re ready.”

After a few moments and subtly thrusts from Steve, you turned towards his friend and gave him the okay.

Hands spread open your ass and you tightened around the other man again when you felt spit hit your asshole and Eddie’s fingers massaging it in. Your body tensed slightly when the tip of his cock rubbed between your cheeks.

“Sweetheart, if at any point you want to stop, I want you to say ‘Red’ for me, alright? Can you tell me what I just said?”

“If…if—fuck—if I want to stop…say ‘red’.”

“Atta girl.”, he praised as he quickly leaned forward to kiss your temple. 

Prepared, Steve’s palms held on to your face as Eddie began to push into your body. Your head started to droop but his grip was stronger than yours. “Y/N, look at me, honey.” When you did what he asked, his thumb extended out to run along your bottom lip. “You’re doing amazing. How do you feel?”

“F-full.” The metalhead licked the pads of his fingers, looping his arm under your body to slowly and softly massage circles into your clit. “Oh my god!”

You tried to collapse against Steve’s chest but he still wouldn’t allow it. 

“Holy shit. Y/N, stop moving.”, he scolded in a firm tone before he realized what headspace he was slipping into and reeling himself back into the present. “Baby, not yet. You…you say you’ve never had anyone as big as us. I-I don’t know about, Ed but I’VE never…had a woman as tight as you.” He flashed you a small smile. “I’m trying so fucking hard not to cum right now.”

Eddie’s hair bobbed behind you and the man knew he was nodding in agreement. 

“You can—mmm—you can talk to me…like you did. I-I-I don’t mind.”

His eyes scanned over your face as your eyes closed. “Hey, I said keep your eyes open, sweet girl.” You purposely ignored him, grinding your hips forward slightly for good defiant measure. Both men grunted at the action but it was Steve who held your face tighter. 

“Look at me, now.” This time you listened. “What did I say, Y/N? Don’t fucking move. You need to be patient, little girl. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, I understand.” At that moment, the metalhead’s hips finally connected against yours. “You…you both can…move. Please, I need you to move.”

The man underneath you released your face and circled his arms around you as he pressed you to his chest. When they both thrusted into you at the same time, the euphoria you felt was indescribable. It was like they knew exactly what you needed and where they needed to be. Each stroke was strong and precise, hitting every nerve inside of you, and setting your body ablaze. 

“Go-go ahead, princess. You wanted—goddamn—you wanted to move so bad. Take over.” Eddie’s hand came down hard on your behind and you hurriedly (and willingly) did as he commanded. Their grunts and groans drove you crazy, egging you on as you bounced and rolled your hips as fast as you could. The obscene sound of skin hitting skin echoed in your room mixed with your whimpers of pleasure. 

It was almost too overwhelming as the ball in your belly began to wind faster and faster. Steve’s grip moved to your hips as Eddie held on to your shoulders.

“Cum, baby. Let go and cum as hard as you fucking can.”, the man under you whispered into your ear. Your forehead fell into the mattress beside his head as they both pounded into you. Their rhythm changed as they slowed, punching the air from your lungs as white blurs your vision. You scream into the bed below you as they fuck you through it, Steve lifting his hand to run his fingers through your hair.

“That’s it. Good-good fucking girl. Taking us both so well.” Eddie tilted forward, placing sloppy, wet kisses against your back as he rolled his hips. He soon followed after you, grunting loudly as he spilled into the condom. Steve, unable to hold back any longer, came as well, smacking his hips against yours and using you to milk himself dry.

#########

Eddie’s eyes blink open as his watch beeps signaling midnight. His eyes take a quick scan of the area, realizing they were still in your apartment. He and Steve were tucked under your sheets but you weren’t between them. 

“Steven.” The metalhead reached over to shake his friend’s shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”

“Huh? Wha?”

“Oh my god, you idiot. Steve. WAKE. UP.” Between each word, he firmly punched his arm causing the other man to grumble in anger.

“What?! Why are you in my room?”

“Oh, you know. I thought I could just use a nice Harrington cuddle. WE AREN’T AT HOME!”, he hisses. 

Steve rubs his eyes before Eddie’s words sink in and he bolts up right. “Shit. We fell asleep.”

“You don’t say.”

“Shut the fuck up, Munson. Where is she?”

As he shrugs, they both jump out of bed. Steve finds his clothes on the floor but the other boy struggles to find his. 

“I know I took them off here.”

“You did.” They both jump at the sound of your voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I woke up before you and noticed your clothes had oil on them from when you picked me up so I washed them for you.”, you softly smiled as you handed Eddie his jeans and shirt.

“Um, thank you. You…you didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem. I was hungry to I heated up some left-over pizza if you want some.”

Their eyes scanned over you as you leaned in the doorframe with a mug in your hand. You had changed into an oversized shirt with a metal band that Eddie definitely knew and some sleep shorts. Your hair was a little frayed but to both of them you looked like an angel. 

“I mean, you don’t have to. I don’t really know what the protocol is or how this works.”

“Well, to be fair, I’m not sure if you noticed but this whole thing was a bit off script for what we normally do.”, Steve grins as he nervously chuckles. He has no idea what they are supposed to do either.

You silently nodded before turning and heading back out to the kitchen as they follow behind. 

“How, uh, how are you feeling?”, Eddie asks. 

“Calm. Oddly relaxed. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve felt like this since before I got in engaged.” You hop up onto the counter before meeting their gaze. “Thank you.”

They smile as Steve heads for where their things were as Eddie grabs a slice of pizza. “I made some coffee to if you want some.”

“Did you put our table and all that way?”

“Oh, yeah. I cleaned it to. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to use a certain type of cleaner but I just used my 409. I folded it and placed it by the door with your bags. I, um, I wasn’t sure if when you woke up you’d…want to make a quick getaway.”

They exchanged a look as your head hung. 

“Why do you think we would want to do that?” When you shrug at Eddie’s question, he saunters casually over to you and lifts your chin with his fingers. “Let me rephrase. Is that what you want us to do?”

“Do you want us to leave?”, Steve reiterated. 

“Like I said, I don’t know…how this works…”

“That’s not what I asked, Y/N.”

“No…I don’t want you to leave.”

They both grin at your answer. “We don’t want to leave either.”

Eddie starts to giggle through his teeth as he jumps on the counter beside you. 

“What’s so funny, Munson?”, Steve asks as he comes to lean on the counter across from you both. 

The metalhead intertwines his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder. 

“Nothing. Just…this gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘happy ending’.”

[damagedintellect]

Fyodor x reader x Nikolai [Rich kids AU]

💌 Days of our Bungo : Part 3 💌  

Summary: All of your fathers made a pack that whenever they had kids they would marry each other. It sounded like a good idea at the time but when the Sigma family was the only family to have a girl, and everyone wanted a bloodborne heir, things seemed a little complicated. After many arguments it was decided they would wait to see which boy, she, would fall for. Everyone always ends up having a crush on their childhood friend right?

Notes: Guess who had another Bungo dream, it was me! This time around the dream sequence started in the middle and just kept going so ima just fill in the gaps and start from the top.

Tropes: Sigma is your twin, Fyodor x reader x Nikolai, Fyodor is endgame, royalty/rich kids, Childhood friends, Mutual pinning but reader thinks it's one-sided, Nikolai knows its unrequited but he still loves you & Fyodor, eventual 🍋

💌 Word count: 5,327 💌 Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Completed

“So let me get this straight, our parents were trying to arrange your marriage for years and they just happened to pick Fyodor?”

Nikolai asked bluntly, wearing an expression you couldn’t decipher. You had asked him to meet you by the fountain to see if he knew anything about the situation. He didn’t. He was actually shocked at the notion. Given how many times he's expressed his envy towards birds for their freedom you can imagine he probably has some mixed opinions on the endeavor. At least they weren't forcing Nikolai to marry anyone. Sigma was relieved about that. He was still frazzled and reassured you everything was fine after his talk with your father but you assume he's not telling you everything because you have your own problems to deal with.

You sighed. “From what I’ve gathered, that’s the gist. Apparently my father knew I had a crush on him.” You wondered if Kolya knew. Even if he didn’t, after Valentine's Day, he definitely did now.

Nikolai hummed rubbing his chin “Then what’s the problem? Isn’t this just hitting the jackpot?”

You stood up abruptly “How can you say that? What about Fedya?”

Nikolai smirked “What about Fedya? This is about you. Do you, or do you not want to marry Fyodor?” Nikolai stood up towering over you. A chill ran down your spine, you always forget how much taller Koyla is when you're not on pointe. You feel so tiny in comparison. It was a hard question, one that the latter didn’t even think twice about.

“I don’t want to marry him like this. You know that.” You couldn’t look into Nikolai's eyes anymore. You felt ashamed. It wasn’t like you were forcing him to marry you, that was your parents doing, but you still felt like you were taking advantage of the situation. He put his hands on your shoulders. “If you can’t marry Fyodor then how about you marry me instead!” Nikolai’s soft smile made you blink.

“What?” You were awestruck at the offer. Your head was empty, all you heard was the water pitter pattering behind you.

“You said you couldn’t break the engagement and Fyodor won’t help you do so either. I was a potential candidate for your hand, so marry me! I find it really quite simple.” He placed a hand on your cheek while the other grabbed your hand to pull you closer. “Eventually you’ll have to talk to Fedya whether you like it or not. You don’t want to marry him because you don’t know how he feels about you and it would feel wrong to force him into something he doesn’t want, even though you and I both know he would do whatever it takes to appease you or his father.” He tilted your head up. Forcing your eyes to meet. As he took a breath his features softened giving you a dreamy look. “I’m telling you point blank that I love you and I would give up my freedom to marry you in a heartbeat because that's how much I love you.” His voice dropped lower, a tone that held none of his usual playfulness. None of his typical Nikolai craving attention antics, it was said so that only you could hear him. Like he was telling you a secret. Nikolai has always been charming but it's never once flustered you before. The sincerity of his voice alone made you second guess yourself.

“Kolya” You whispered as he slowly started leaning in to close the distance. 

Just before your lips touched he snaked his hand around the back of your head and shoved your face into his chest. “I know, but please just let that sink in. Nothing has to be weird, I just-” He took in a deep breath “I will always be here for you but you should really consider talking to Fyodor.” He kissed the top of your head letting his lips linger for a moment before letting you go and abruptly turning around. It was fast enough that his braid ended up whacking you softly in the face as he walked away.

“Even Fedya can misinterpret things on occasion. It's better to be upfront with him.”

It would have been so easy to love Kolya but your heart didn’t ache the same way. You wanted to be alone for a little while but you didn’t want to worry your family. You took a walk in the garden watching the sunset. As darkness cascaded over the flowers you sigh as the brisk night air chilled your skin. It was probably time for dinner but you didn’t want to head inside just yet. A little further out was the gazebo where you first played as kids. Taking off your shoes you rubbed your socks on the hardwood to check how slippery it was. The groundskeeper was really good at maintaining the area. The floor felt perfect to dance on.

Just like that by the light of the moon illuminating your stage you danced. The world stopped existing for you. None of it mattered as long as you had the strength to hold each arabesque or the stamina to float on each grand jete. Anything to feel the ache in your muscles that made you feel alive, that made you live in this moment. It wasn’t until you opened your eyes to spot your pirouettes that you realized someone was watching you and it wasn’t Nikolai. You were panting after deciding a triple was enough. You can't run away from this.

“You're truly breathtaking. I was so enamored I did not want to interrupt.” 

Fyodor entered the gazebo. He walked over handing you a flower presumably from your garden. You twirled it between your fingers. Of course it was your favorite. “Why are you here?”

“Your father called in hopes that we were together. No one saw you come home. I had a feeling I knew where you would be so I told him not to worry.” In truth he already knew where you were because this is where you always go when you have a lot on your mind but even if he didn't, the locket he gave you had a tracking device just in case anything happened like that time before. Fyodor had it made after the kidnapping incident but never actually gave it to you because of Nikolai. After the study abroad it just seemed like the right time since he had it crafted to match the rings he wanted for your engagement.

“May I?” He took the flower back gesturing to your hair. 

You nodded. As expected if anyone would be able to find you it would be Fyodor. He curled your hair and put the flower behind your left ear. “You really are exquisite.”

You couldn’t stop the fluttering of your heart. Naturally he’d try to keep up the appearances even when he didn’t need to. Only Fyodor could be so meticulous. 

“It’s just us Fedya you don’t have to, you know.” Glancing down at your feet you didn’t have the words to express what you meant but you know he understood. He was annoyingly good at that.

Fyodor laughed lightheartedly, “Am I not allowed to indulge my fiance with compliments?”

“I-” You sucked in a shaky breath. “Did you know?” You peered back at him. Fyodor had to know what you were referring to. 

“I did.”

“You knew,” You could feel your eyes starting to tear up. “How long?”

Fedya delicately caressed your cheek. His eyes glistened in the moonlight. He was hopeful that you were going to be relieved by his words, given your reactions earlier. He still didn't know why you were so weary about it. “Since the day we first met.”

It was as you feared. He has known from the start. You didn’t know what to say. Maybe you were too scared to say anything. Fyodor didn’t seem to mind. He probably could guess what had been stewing in your head. You let Fyodor wrap you in his arms as he kissed the top of your head. He was warm and you felt safe but he was only following orders. He didn’t choose to marry you but if he’s known since the beginning then this was okay right? You felt the weight of guilt drop to your stomach again. 

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

You tilted your head to the side. Did you hear him correctly? You pulled away to try and see the moon. It was too cloudy to see from your angle but maybe Fedya could see it. “It’s too cloudy for me. I’m short, remember?”

“No I meant-” He stopped mid sentence “Nevermind, lets go inside before you catch a cold.”

___

After that you pretended that things had gone back to normal. It was easier that way. The voices were still resting in the back of your mind but they were easy enough to ignore. It was such a weird predicament you were caught up in. Nikolai loves you but you knew he didn’t want to take over the family business but he was willing to give up that freedom because he loved you. Fyodor has known since the beginning and if he had a problem with it at anypoint, could have done something to rectify his situation. Although in your heart of hearts you know he would never disobey his father. You can and will be able to do as you please so all you had to do really was make him fall in love with you. At least then it would make you less guilty.

It shouldn’t be that hard right? You had months to do so. Piece of cake considering you made Nikolai fall in love with you. The only other person he’s ever shown any interest in was Fyodor. You started off simply by playing the doting fiance by making homemade lunches to give to him. However you forgot that he could read you like a book. Every attempt you made to show him you were perfect wife material he could tell you were forcing yourself to do for his sake. It was almost driving you crazy. You knew it was pointless from the beginning but you had to try. Expressing your love was hard.

So the acts of service fiance didn’t work. You already spent a lot of quality time together and physical affection was so so but there were still other options to make him fall in love with you. If he didn’t want you romantically or even domestically, maybe you could try sexually? It was a long shot but hey you never know until you try. He was a teenage boy. They go crazy for a little bit of skin right? 

Technically you had a school uniform but you rolled up your skirt a few inches and unbuttoned the top few buttons on your shirt. Purple had always been his favorite color so you made sure to wear a vibrant neon purple bra that showed through your white shirt. A push up bra no less. Unfortunately Fedya took one look at you and forced you to wear his uniform blazer and covered your chest area with his scarf. He even went as far to wrap his extra cardigan around your waist so your skirt wouldn’t ride up in the back. Again you knew it was a long shot but damn did it hurt your pride. He only muttered “Are you trying to get dress coded?”

You were running out of ways to make him fall in love with you. Romantically and sexually were off the table so maybe intellectually? This really was your last ditch effort. You weren’t bad at academics, you just weren’t a gifted genius like Fyodor. To impress Fyodor you decided that if you beat him, Dazai or Ranpo at chess that should be enough. However you realized after your first match with Ranpo that it might actually be impossible. You were trying not to let it show on your face that you were downtrodden while you were playing against Dazai. Unfortunately it was so obvious that he let you win. You sighed as Dazai shook your hand making a big spectacle of losing. Fyodor had to swat Dazai away because he was being disrespectful to his fiance. Again another failed attempt. You were running out of time and fast. Before you knew it you were graduating.

In the blink of an eye you were out of time. You didn’t even bother trying to mask your melancholy as you got ready for the day. You had to wake up early and you didn’t even remember half of the things on the itinerary but you remember it was a lot. The maids were so excited as they were running around preparing for your departure. There was so much to do and you had such little knowledge of how Russian weddings proceeded. The paying the ransom, the betrothal, the crowning, a civil ceremony, a tour of the city, and finally the only thing you were familiar with was the reception. It all made your head spin but you followed along to the best of your abilities.

You wished you could have heard what Fyodor paid in the ransom. He refused to tell you as you were both ushered to the next location for the ceremony. You were anxious you didn’t want to do anything wrong. In fact you were so anxious you were running on autopilot until you had to break the crystal glasses. Fyodor held your hand to help you balance as you tried your best to stomp on the glasses with him. He was smiling at you so softly like you were his world but he aggressively tried to smash the cups into as many pieces as possible. You asked him about it in the car as you toured around the city.

“The ideology is that the number of shards signify the number of years our marriage will last.”

You didn’t even know what to say to that. It was such an endearing sentiment. Any words you had were caught in your throat. Fyodor didn’t mind the silence, your awestruck expression was enough for him. You were exhausted by the time you made it to the reception. 

The first toast was made to you and Fyodor. After finishing your drink his family started a chant that had everyone shouting at you. He chuckled at you before whispering “It means we kiss now.” Crashing his lips on yours he takes your face in his hands. That familiar warmth from your first kiss comes back full force. You’re dizzy as Fyodor's tongue explores your mouth. Everyone is cheering him on while you're melting in his touch. You can’t believe he’s doing this in front of your family. You're a mess by the time he pulls away. You have no idea what the hell just happened and by the time you came back to your senses Fyodor pulled you to the dance floor.

“My apologies darling, was I too rough?” He twirled you around and held you close. 

“I-I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“It would have taken too long to explain but the kiss is supposed to counter the bitterness of the wine. It needed to be sweet with passion.” He smiled fondly at you. His face practically had a smile plastered on it all day. You wonder if your classmates found it unnerving given his typical apathy towards them. He's always sort of regarded you with such fondness and you could fall in love with the brightness in his eyes.

You blushed but continued dancing, only humming in response. This whole day was giving you whiplash. Again maybe Fyodor should have been the actor of your group. You were the one who was supposed to make him fall in love with you and right now it felt like the other way around. Once your dance was done he ushered you right in front of your favorite dance partner and offered you to Nikolai. Which you raised an eyebrow at. 

“You look best when you're dancing. Who am I to stop you from enjoying the night with your friends? It is your wedding too.”

Nikolai pulled you both in for a hug quickly placing a kiss on Fyodor's cheek, snickering “Well I don’t need to be told twice.” He pulled away, bowing to you as he offered his hand. “May I?” You grabbed his hand as he led you back to the floor.

Nikolai smirked looking back and forth from you to Fyodor. “You two never talked about it, did you.” It wasn’t a question, he could tell.

“Is it really that obvious?” You hate being an open book. Shaking your head you continued. “On second thought don’t answer that. I have a feeling I know the answer.”

“Well then let me ask you a question.” He leaned down to dip you. “Are you happy?” 

You looked over at your husband who raised his glass to you. He looked relaxed and that smile of his left a heat to your cheeks. On one hand you were. Even if everything today was just for show, at least he made the effort for you. Like he always has. You think you’ve finally hit acceptance that Fyodor does care for you and that’s all that matters. 

“I think so.”

Nikolai took another bow as the song ended “If you ever need anything, you know I’ll come running.”

As you turned back around, Chuuya offered his hand. “May I-” Dazai pushed him over and out of the way as you reached out he took your hand and swiftly led you to dance. You could hear Nikolai cackling as the redhead grumbled.

“Hello to you too, Dazai.” You said flatly “I didn’t even know you were coming? I don’t remember Fedya sending you an invitation.”

“Easy, he didn’t! I’m Sigma’s plus one.”

You raised your eyebrows at him “Really? How’d you manage that?”

 “I’ll spare you the details! What I actually wanted to tell you was!”

Fyodor watched the two dance flummoxed as to why Dazai leaned into his wife’s ear. Dazai was wearing a shit eating grin staring him down while (Y/N) seemed very taken aback. Fyodor slammed his drink on the table as he paced over to grab his shoulder. “Dazai.”

“Ah why if it isn’t Fyodor. Again congratulations! Eh? Where are we going?”

You saw Fyodor drag Dazai away as you started dancing with Chuuya. Once they were away from the dance floor Fyodor started interrogating Dazai. “What were you saying to (Y/N)!”

“Aw don’t be like that Fyodor! We were just giving (Y/N) her wedding present. Since you insist on being stubborn we’re playing our own game. Honestly if you’d just tell her yourself it would make things go way smoother but-” Fyodor’s eyes widened perplexed as he looked back at his wife. 

“I did tell you I have my eyes on the sigma family.” Dazai grins as he watches Fyodor storm off to collect his wife. Sigma crossed his arms. “Must you keep saying it like that you’re going to give him the wrong idea.”

“He can think what he wants. Although I’m surprised you didn’t tell your sister anything.” Dazai shrugged as Sigma pinched the bridge of his nose. “I doubt she would believe me if I did. Even Nikolai couldn’t convince her.”

Out of nowhere Nikolai appeared behind them. “In all fairness I was being selfish but they really are made for each other, huh.”

___

Chuuya sighed as Dazai was dragged away. “It’s about time you two got married, everyone's been sick of seeing the two of you dance around the subject. Dazai in particular has been trying to make it everyone’s problem.”

You were confused “Chuuya what are you talking about and what Dazai said I don’t-”

Chuuya cut you off “As a wedding gift we planned on telling you since that anemic bastard doesn’t have the balls to say it out loud, but-” Chuuya stopped as Fyodor put a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like to spend some time with my wife. If you don’t mind.” The touch to the shoulder contained all the malice that his words lacked.

You looked back at Chuuya as your husband whisked you away. You thought he was going to go back to your seats but he kept on walking out to the car. He refused to let go of your hand as the vehicle drove away. It wasn’t headed towards your manor but it also wasn’t headed towards the Dostoevsky’s estate either. It was slightly unnerving that Fyodor wasn’t talking. You had so many questions and not enough answers. Dazai told you that he gave Fyodor your chocolates during Valentine’s day but he didn’t get to tell you how he reacted to receiving them before Fyodor dragged him away. Chuuya also didn’t get to finish his sentiment, it just left you more confused. It also begged the question why they bothered meddling in the first place.

You had been so lost in thought that you didn’t notice driving up to a new manor. One that you had never seen before. Fedya got out of the car and held out his hand. You thought he was going to help you out of the car but he scooped you up in his arms and walked into the estate. “Fedya, I can walk just fine! Where are we going?” Being this close to him caused your face to heat up. He had such a determined look on his face. It never occurred to you what would happen after the wedding. You were trying to take things one day at a time. Realistically you know what should happen next but you're unsure if that interests Fyodor at all.

“What did Dazai say to you?” His tone was dark and it honestly scared you a little. You’ve never been on the receiving end of this attitude. Sure sometimes he would be annoyed or irritated, you’ve witnessed him get snappy with people but it was never directed at you. 

You stammered out trying to collect your thoughts. “I don’t understand wh-” He placed you down a little carelessly causing you to flop backwards on the bed. Honestly you were surprised he could carry you. Physical strength has never been his expertise. When you were younger he used to get winded very easily.

He loomed over you with a hard look on his face. His jaw was tense and his eyes had you frozen in place. The Fyodor you know would never hurt you but you don’t think you’ve ever seen him this distressed before. The position you were in under Fyodor brought back flashbacks from your first kiss. It makes you hot with shame because this is definitely not the time for that thought.

“You’ve been acting strangely ever since the engagement. What has Dazai been instigating! If someone else is coming between us I-” He huffed with slight bewilderment, had he truly made such a dire miscalculation? You were his, Fyodor has been certain of that for years. Your heart belongs to him. He didn’t understand why the game had suddenly changed when he was finally so close to achieving his goals. 

“Tell me, do you not love me anymore?”

Anymore? You felt a pang in your chest. Of course he knew about your feelings, everyone else did. Wait, was that why he married you? Fyodor has always put his comfort aside for your sake. Is that what Nikolai was trying to tell you? Before it even registered to your brain the words fell out of your mouth “No, it’s always been you.” Frustrated with yourself your brows knit together as you turned away from him. “I don't think I could ever love someone else.” You didn't mean to divulge that last bit of information but you feel slightly less guilty about the situation somehow. Maybe confirming that he knew was enough validation? Your face was flushed and you could hear your heart working overtime. Although it's not fair for you to be cornered like this. You hated it but you couldn't bring yourself to push him away. You didn't want to see his expression but you felt his weight shift as his hair tickled your neck.

His hot breath warmed your ear as his tone dripped sweetly like molten honey. “Then why have you been acting so reluctant to be my wife?” the smugness was radiating from his being as he lazily smirked at you. He loved that he could finally call you that. His wife. Fyodor doesn’t think he'll stop saying it anytime soon. It stirs too much pride and euphoria in his being that he finds his own heart buzzing in his chest.

“Because you didn't choose to marry me!” You whipped your attention back to his handsome albeit slightly confused face.

Fyodor was taken aback, flabbergasted even. “I beg your pardon?” 

Didn't choose to marry you? Did you really not notice his affection towards you? He thought it was abundantly clear from the beginning. 

He's been enamored with you from the start. When you went missing he was the first person to drop everything to go find you. He should have been paying closer attention back then but he was complacent knowing your fondness towards him. He was the anonymous tip that got rid of your understudy for good. Fyodor purposely gave you his first kiss which should have made his sentiments towards you increasingly obvious given his extreme avoidance towards physical contact. As much as he did that for you, he selfishly wanted to indulge in your innocence together. During your year apart he wrote you letters religiously but thinking back, it would have been easy for Nikolai to tamper with those. He frowns to himself that there was that possibility but he supposed it's not important now. Fyodor told you that the moon was beautiful! Which is the most poetic way of saying I love you in the Japanese language. How could you have missed that? Your last literature exam was literally about Natsume Soseki and his works. He was increasingly frustrated with the fact that you dismissed it so easily. Much to his dismay your Japanese language scores were higher than his but he'd never openly disclose that. Nikolai has always ridiculed him for it.

“You heard me,” propping yourself on your elbows, you snapped him out of his racing thoughts. “Our parents decided that. They've been pulling the strings since we were kids. You said so yourself. My father took advantage of the fact that I harbored romantic feelings towards you!”

“And you think I don’t return the sentiment?” He cradled your face in his hand. “When have I ever sowed such disbelief in my love for you.”

“Then why didn't you propose to me yourself!” Your face was hot with embarrassment. Fyodor's thumb brushed away your frustrated tears.

With a loving smile he denoted “When I asked your father for your hand in marriage I may or may not have had some unforeseen complications.” Fyodor looked away abashedly remembering how unprepared he was for your father’s ecstatic reaction to his wedding plans. “One thing led to another and well, your father and I got carried away in our discussions and I may have accidentally promised that he would have the honors of relaying the proposal announcement.” he rubbed his face, not one of his best moments but there was a lot at stake so it was easier to comply. At the time he was certain it wouldn't change the trajectory of the engagement overall so he brushed it off. “Likewise the article about our family's merger was one of the other tasks he had me fulfill before giving his approval. Similarly that “business conference” I was forced to attend was merely a front so as not to raise suspicion. What I was actually doing was buying this estate.” He had been manipulating everything behind the scenes to be so perfect that he might have forgotten you would not see it the same way.

“All of that and you couldn't just say I love you.” You were perturbed. Fyodor was out here playing 4D chess yet he couldn't ease your mind by saying three simple words? Wholeheartedly you were astonished this never came up sooner. 

“I supposed I could have stated the obvious, yes.” The strain on his face didn't go unnoticed. He was dancing around the subject and while you had a revelation over it he still didn't admit to it outright. “Would you like me to prove it to you?” If the words were to ever leave his lips he's sure the elated rush would cause him to faint. He feels too intensely about the unfolding of his affection. Instead he captures your lips with such a passionate effervescence that you nearly forgot what you were asking for.

“I want to hear you say it.” 

It was breathy leaving your mouth. A plea to confirm that this was truly what Fyodor wanted and not just some trick. He paused for a moment intaking a shaky breath. You felt Fyodor's weight shift as he dipped his lips to your ear and whispered.

“I love you more than life itself and tonight you will be forever mine.”

Your breath hitched as Fyodor's hands explored your body. You wrapped your arms around him as he pulled you impossibly closer. It was mind numbing how much your body reacted to him. A simple touch to the shoulder burned hotter than a blue flame as he somehow found the time to undress you in the position you were in. Your head was so focused on the indulgent kisses that you didn’t even notice Fyodor being stripped away of his layers by your hands. Soon both of you were laid bare as you assessed your beating hearts. Lust dripped from his expression as his fingers caressed your inner thighs.

You moaned as he kissed down your jaw, slipping fingers into your wetness. The pleasure swirling your core causes your walls to pulse around his digits as he continues to pepper kisses down your torso. Worshiping every inch of your body with a near systematic discipline as he unraveled your patience. You were a mess of barely coherent thoughts by the time he got a taste of you. Such an overwhelming rush had you gasping and convulsing on his hand as he gazed up at your disheveled state. 

You watched with half lidded eyes as he lapped up your sweet nectar placing himself just above your entrance no doubt waiting for your approval as he stroked himself with what remained on his hand. 

Coming down from you high you managed to pant. “Please Fedya, I need all of you.” The absence of his fingers only stirred your arousal more.

“Anything for you, my love.” He leaned down to kiss you once more before his member vanished inside of you. Fyodor shuddered and groaned at the sensation as your toes curled with the new depth he could achieve. You watched as his carefully crafted composure shatter with each thrust. Only you could elicit such expressions from Fyodor. Sweet nothings tumbled out of your mouth as choked moans and lustful requests. Your breath hitched as his hips jolted forward and that familiar build of pleasure snapped again making you see stars. He collapsed on top of you catching his breath. In the afterglow he placed a kiss to the crook of your neck bringing you back from your hazy stupor. The words had been bubbling in your throat but only desperate pleas  had escaped your mouth until now. Fyodor had known of your love from the beginning but you've never expressed it out loud.

“I love you.”

You could feel him smile into your skin as he retaliated. “I love you most.”

___

Tagslist: @skullyz1 , @tttttttf , @ayameshu

[danikamariewrites]

could i please request an az x reader, reader used to be an assassin and a ruthless contract killer. she turned her life around and is a trusted war strategist for the inner circle. although she doesn’t kill if she doesn’t have to, reader still gets urges and can be riled up by people who annoys her. Azriel knows how much she represses her murderous side and wants her to blow of some steam.

He creates a little game where he releases some prisoners/traitors/criminals from his dungeon, that he was planning on torturing, into the woods and if reader catches she gets to torture them with him.

couple who tortures together stays together 😍

The Game

Azriel x dark!reader

A/n: I’m loving the dark requests I’ve been getting they’ve been so interesting to write, thanks anon!

Warnings: dark reader, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of torture

In the middle of the High Lords meeting you couldn’t take it anymore. Your jaw was sore from clenching it too hard. Your gums hurting from grinding your teeth down. Tamlin and Beron were fighting loudly and you had the urge to remove ones head and the other’s tongue. You had to get out or your violent tendencies would come out and you weren’t interested in being thrown in prison today.

You stood abruptly from the table and left without saying a word. The High Lords didn’t quit their bickering but you felt a few pairs of eyes on your back. You didn’t know how far you had walked from the room. All that matters was it was silent, just your breathing and heartbeat reaching your ears.

Moments later you heard Azriel’s footsteps. He would never make himself known, but in this case he didn’t want to piss you off more. Azriel stood in front of you, his shadows swirling around the both of you to give you some privacy.

“I didn’t want to kill them.” You said flatly. A smirk pulled the corner of Azriel’s lips. “I figured.” A moment of silence passed between you two. You rolled out your neck to release some tension. “Did you just start getting the urge today, or for a few days?” You shake your head, “Just during the meeting.” Azriel nodded silently.

“We can play the game tonight if you want.” You looked at your beloved boyfriend with a devilish grin. All teeth and cold. “Sounds perfect.”

———

As the last of the sun disappeared you stood at the edge of the woods waiting for Azriel. You double and triple checked your daggers, sword, and your compact crossbow. The compact wasn’t your most lethal weapon, but the people you hunted didn’t know that. Plus it was cute.

Behind you, you heard the sounds of muffled struggling as Azriel dragged one of his latest prisoners beside him. “It’ll be good chase. He fought me getting out of his cell.” You clicked your tongue at him. “I hope you didn’t bang him up too badly. That takes the fun out of it for me.”

Azriel held the male by the scruff of his neck, a black bag still over his head. The male was panicking, twisting his head around as if he could see his surroundings. “His crimes?” That was part of the game Azriel made for you.

When you had the urge to go back to your old ways, thanks to having been brainwashed as a child, Azriel let you hunt down prisoners who were going to be put to death or deserved it. “Treason, against out high lord and lady. He had plans to take Lady Night, like he could, and deliver her to the middle.” You shook your head at the male.

“That’s what I want to know,” Azriel continued, “put the fear of the Mother into him. And maybe he’ll cooperate.” The male was visibly shaking. He was trying to plead with Azriel. The words incoherent thanks to the gag in his mouth.

“Your head start begins now.” At that you booked it into the trees, finding a place the hide out until the male eventually came running this way. They we’re all so predictable. None of these criminals ever gave you a real fight. Yes they’d run and run but that was utterly boring. You wanted at least one to try and hit you. It would give you a reason to never stop hitting them.

Minutes passed as you sat still tucked away between two thick trees whose trunks were almost touching. Finally you heard the males pathetic panting breathes. His heavy footsteps thundering against the forest floor.

The male stopped in front of your hiding spot as he whipped his head around. His eyes wild as he tried to take in his entire surrounding. Silently, you drew the compact crossbow, nocking an arrow. Aiming at his head you let it fly. The small arrow nicked the males ear finding home in the tree next to him.

He let out a small scream and started to run further into the woods. Rolling your eyes, you stood and followed at a break neck speed. You drew two daggers as you caught up to him.

You threw the first one, aiming for the middle of his calf. The dagger stuck and the male feel to the ground wailing in pain. He only stopped a moment. Gripping at his leg and crawling away.

You had to give him credit, he was the most determined to get away from you. You walked lazily toward the whimpering male. Tossing your dagger in the air and catching it by the handle. “Are you going to get up? Because this is pathetic.” You drawled. “Fuck off bitch!”

“Oohhh creative.” You were getting bored. You wanted to get to the good part but you were still figuring out how you wanted to end this. He reached out his hand to pull himself forward again. There was your mark. Standing over him you flung the dagger down so it would go right through the middle of his hand.

The male screamed out in pain. He stopped moving so you rested your black-booted foot between his shoulder blades. You whistled for Azriel. Signaling the game was over.

Azriel dove through the canopy of trees, landing with a loud thud that shook the surrounding trees. Azriel smiled at you, “Good. He’ll still be able to speak.” You pressed down on the males back and he let out another sound of pain. Azriel picked him up and winnowed the three of you to the dungeon.

You watched, leaning against one of the damp stone walls while Azriel chained the male to a chair in the middle of the dark room. “Do you want to go first or should I?” Azriel asked you over his shoulder. You nodded signaling Azriel start the process of retrieving information first.

You would get the information out of the male. You could see it in his eyes. His resolve was crumbling. You and Azriel were just the pair to crush him completely.

[actuallyadhd]

Hello, I know you haven't posted in a while so I understand if you don't reply to this, but I could definitely use some advice.

I haven't gotten round to getting tested for ADHD, but I have a lot of the symptoms. I really struggle to sit still, I often blurt things out and interrupt people, I can't seem to remember basically anything, I get way too emotional over small things, and more.

The thing is, these symptoms seem to be getting progressively worse. I will hear something and then completely forget what I heard minutes after, forget what I'm talking about mid conversation, haven't gone to sleep on time because I've been pacing in my room and throwing a bouncy ball and eventually scrolling on my phone in bed because I can't get to sleep, I'm late a lot more than usual (I have to go out tomorrow and I'm hoping I'll get up on time, alarms don't work).

But the biggest thing is this: I keep stopping and starting things. I have loads of sideblogs I haven't posted on for days because I started them with huge passion and then either got bored or forgot about them (or both.) I've been thinking about starting a new ask blog, but at the same time I know I won't come back to it.

Do you have any advice for how to manage this?

Sent August 1, 2024

It sounds like things are cascading, which can be super overwhelming.

I always start with what I call The Big Four: diet, exercise, sleep, and stress. If any one of these is out of whack, everything gets harder. This is true for non-ADHDers as well, but for us it’s more important because of how our brains work.

So, first, think about how you’ve been eating lately. Are you getting enough protein? Brains run on glucose, so carbs are also necessary, but aiming for whole grains and the like is better for long-term functioning. Are you eating *enough*? As in, do you forget to eat meals? Do you snack a lot, and if you do, are you going for quick sugar hits?

Next up is exercise. Regular movement is important. Taking active breaks when you get distracted can help to reset your brain so you can focus again when you come back. Exercise also adds endorphins, which boost your mood and can help increase energy and focus for longer. These effects build up over time, so you won’t see results right away, but if you can make it happen there will be benefits!

As for sleep, you’ve noted that you’re struggling to fall asleep. That’s a really common thing for ADHDers, and we have loads of suggestions here to help. Some of the best ideas I’ve seen include listening to podcasts or watching ASMR videos, white noise machines or a fan, reading a book (not an e-book unless your e-reader doesn’t use blue light), or doing some kind of a puzzle book in bed.

Stress can be really hard to manage, especially if anything else is off since that adds to your stress. The best way to handle this is to have a set time each day where you do something fun and relaxing.

You may find that this doesn’t quite hit the spot. So I have a couple more things to look into.

First, it’s pretty normal for us to run into problems when our responsibilities increase. More responsibility means more load on our executive functions, so things start falling apart a bit as we struggle to find a way to make everything happen. Change is hard!

Second, our age and hormones can have an impact on things. If you menstruate, estrogen levels have a huge impact on functioning. It is a very important part of the brain’s glucose delivery system, so when estrogen is low so is glucose. (There are other ways glucose gets to the brain, estrogen is just the most efficient.)

As for age, when you hit certain ages (early childhood and puberty are best known) your brain makes a ton of new connections, and that can make a lot of things harder that weren’t before. This is because your brain is dedicating itself to other things, and often those “lost” skills return once it’s done with the stage.

So think about all of these things and consider whether one or more might be affecting you. Once you know what’s going on, it will be easier to figure out how to deal with it.

Followers, do you have any ideas for managing these issues? Please share!

-J

[cyten0]

A Symphony In Crimson

Act 1: A Movement in Black

Chapter 9

The house has been much nicer this time around. It feels like everyone is working together a bit better, there’s a closer bond of trust. The others were quite surprised by Bonnie’s marksmanship! But honestly, all of them seem a little stronger.

The first floor has been a breeze really. Which is good, since it means you haven’t had to take any hits really. Nothing to try and cover up. Plus, the party has taken less hits, which means less temptation. Stars you’re hungry.

You’re sitting down for snacks when Odile does their coinflip thing with Isa. Looks like they lost this time.

▲ “What was that about, madam?”

◆ “Ah well. I asked the Favor tree to win my next coin flip.”

✿ “Huh?”

◉ “Such a silly favor.”

◆ “Purely for scientific reasons. I wanted to see if there was anything to this Favor tree business. As we can see, apparently not much.”

The others look a little disappointed by that, and you’re just a little hurt for some reason, as usual.

▲ “… Well you didn’t put any belief into it, so of course nothing happened! Sif actually told me a bit about that!”

Huh! Oh right! You did!

◆ “Really? Tell me more.”

Oh STARS yes, you get to talk more about this, it’s so cool! It still hurts your head to talk about, but it’s SO WORTH IT!!!!

✦ “Using favor trees, and the right steps, you can call energy from the stars! The trees aren’t the only way, but its certainly one of them! But in order to do so, you have to care about what you’re wishing for, otherwise they won’t feel compelled to answer you. You can do all the steps perfectly right, and not get a thing! But if you care enough, you can get something even if you do nearly every step wrong.”

✿ “Woah! That’s so cool!”

◆ “I’ve never heard this before…... Oh, Is this a field of study from your homeland?”

Oh, they remembered! They must have spent some effort doing that. You nod.

◆ “Fascinating. How effective is this method?”

Heh, time to shock them all.

✦ “Well, it might not have been a favor tree, but. I bet the king used a similar method to get Timecraft!”

◉ “WHAT!!!”

▲ “Oh Crab!”

◆ “You’re Certain?”

✦ “Like I said, That power comes from the stars. It’s no coincidence his armor is decorated with them.”

✿ “Oh yeah! The poster!”

◉ “Does that mean ANYONE could do that? And be just as dangerous?”

No it’s not that good but… Hm… It hurts your head but...

✦ “No. Getting that much power would not only require an insane commitment, but would require really lengthy, costly, and complicated rituals that would take months in order to draw from enough stars.”

◉ “Oh thank change.”

▲ “Makes you wonder about his motive though…”

Huh. Isa’s right, it does mean the king is awfully dedicated. Big wishes like that take effort…

A wish like that is probably why your here, right? But you still need more information. This gives information as to what it is, but it doesn’t make sense why you’d be here. Your wish was way too small, can’t be that. If only you could read that book in the storage room, the picture on the cover makes you think it might be about wishcraft.

But trying to remember a language from barricaded memories of memories is a few steps of separation too many. And your head still hurts a TON from yesterday.

Ah well. You’ll figure out, bit by bit. Your making progress! It’s only been… Hm. You haven't kept track how many times you’ve looped. Might want to ask loop about that. Anyways, it’s time for snacks, and you’re super hungry! You’ll try and cut down just a little bit, but that’s gonna be a tall order.

>>>

You’re in the library. Your eyes got caught by the diary again, and Mirabelle is reading it out again. Then the others start talking about the country. It’s hard to listen to it again.

✿ “Still…. The name of that country…. What was it again?”

▲ “Oh, I think it was something like A-”

You all suddenly get a massive headache as Isa tries to say it! Your head feels like it’s going to split open it hurts so blinding much! It hurts so much you can only see red! You cover your eyes so they don’t notice. It hurts it hurts it hurts!!!!

But…. Then… The pain…. Subsides…..

You look up. That. Didn’t happen last time. What… Odile. She stopped Mira from interrupting?

✿ “Ow. Crab, that hurt way more then I thought.”

◉ “Ow ow ow… Madam, why did you let that happen?”

◆ “Gems, that hurt…. Siffrin?”

She… She did that for you…? Just so you’d have a chance to? You really don’t deserve that. Others shouldn’t have to hurt for your needs. But….

✦ “….. Starts with an A. Heh. It’s something!”

The others give puzzled looks, as you slot the diary back into the bookshelf. That one. That helps a lot more then just Siffrin. That’s for all of them.

>>>

You’re on the third floor, in the room with the person doing bodycraft again. Key is obtained, but you’re a little bored, so you decide to take a look at the closet.

▲ “Oh, look at this shirt! It’s the same material as your cloak, right Sif?”

◆ “It looks very warm. I’m surprised you managed to wear it all through summer.”

Right. This cloak was one of the first things you ever had. You never questioned it much.

✦ “It’s actually quite cool? Never get hot in it really.”

◉ “Really?”

▲ “...Sif, mind if I take a look real quick?”

Huh! You're a little nervous to have him so close, but… Okay. The only wounds you’ve taken are covered up well enough, so it… Should be fine, right?

You nod. Isabeau kneels and takes a hold of your cloak lifting it up and examining. it. You can feel his breath against your body, feel the warmth exude from him, hear his heartbeat so keenly, smell his body and it’s taste, feel the slight tugs and motions as he handles the fabric... It’s hard to focus.

▲ “… Holy Crab… This is some impressive work.”

✦ “Huh? What do you mean?”

▲ “Okay, starting on the simple side, It’s got a very interesting stitching style. Not very Vaugardian at all, and seems to focus on being highly durable. Like, borderline armor durable. It’s even fireproof. Difficult to pull off. Plus it’s been treated to be stainless as well.”

◉ “Huh! That’s some good traveling cloths.”

▲ “Oh that’s just the beginning. Someone decided to take this already impressive cloak, and literally stitch craft into the fabric. And not just a little, there’s a bunch! Self repair, temperature regulation, it even adjusts to your size! And to top it off, while you can’t tell normally, some of the fabric inside glows a little in dark places, showing some interesting patterns!... Hey, they even sewed a little butterfly emblem on the inseam!”

✿ “Woah! That sounds REALLY fancy!”

▲ “Honestly Sif, this cloak alone is practically worth an entire village?!? Where did you even get this?”

… You don’t speak. You remember Siffrin was important in his homeland. Guess you got an idea how important.

▲ “… Oh. Hey, it’s alright! I’m sure they’d be happy with how you’ve used it.”

✦ “… Yeah.”

The others are confused, but you move on. It’s fine.

>>>

Got the third floor handled, and got food at the bathrooms. Odile didn’t interupt this time, even though you ate a lot during the snack breaks, maybe because of the increased trust? And now you’ve obtained the Keyknife! And are back at the entrance…

Hm. You wonder. You’re curious about that statue. You remember Mira mentioning that these statues are connections to the Change god. Who’s is the one that blessed you?

✦ “Hey, Before we go ahead, I want to check something”

◉ “Huh? Okay, let’s go!”

>>>

You’re back in the statue room. You’re not expecting anything, but you ARE curious about it. You take a closer look.

Hm. Not to judge but… Oh, Looks like the others are judging instead.

✿ “Can noses look like that?”

▲ “Wow, it’s left eye is somehow above the right brow.”

◆ “I can’t tell if it’s smiling or frowning.

You notice Mirabelle is oddly quiet. You had suspicions but...

✦ “...Mirabelle?”

◉ “I… I was trying to make it look nice and gentle…”

▲ “CRAB, MIRA WE’RE SO SORRY!!!!”

✿ “SORRY WE SAID YOUR STATUE SUCKED!!!!”

◉ “It’s alright…. I’ll get my revenge on you all someday.”

The others shudder, and you smile a bit.

Hm. So this is Mirabelle's statue, huh? A connection between her and the change god, the only one unharmed in the house, and the one that gives you this blessing each time...

✦ “Mira, can you put your hand on the statue?”

◉ “Um? Okay, sure?”

She puts her hand on the statue, and suddenly, the room shifts!

You’re both pulled into that strange realm again! But. You’re still here? You havn’t been teleported, you’ve been brought…. Elsewhere.

You look around. It’s nothing but pure white as far as you can see. There’s a faint humming, in that sound only you can hear.

There’s a figure approaching. You don’t know what to do! Wait is that?

◉ “Euphrasie?”

Is that the name of the Head Housemaiden? They seem a little surprised, but then…

❍✿ Incorrect buzzer

❍✿ “mirabelle!!! i can't believe u can't recognize me ಠ_ಠ"

They’re wearing Bonnies face now?

◉ “Wait you changed shapes?!? Are-”

❍◉ “yay!!! o(≧▽≦)o got it so fast! it’s me! The Change God ＠＾▽＾＠”

You’re stunned. You can’t move. Wait, Mirabelle’s crying!

❍◎ “oh no don’t cry! i didn’t want to make you cry (╥﹏╥)”

◉ “I’m so sorry!!!! For not changing enough, for being useless, for lying and making everyone think you blessed me, for-”

❍▲ “nonono you’re all good! ( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : ) i’m not worried about any of that. you’re a-okay!(≧◡≦) “

◉ “Huh?

❍✿ “if I was upset, i wouldn’t have helped you all earlier! (⁀ᗢ⁀) but I did because I’m rooting for you. both of you!”

H-huh! They… they are?… Mirabelle dries her tears, and seems happier.

❍◆ “i’m about to tell you something, that you won’t remember for a lot of reasons. well, your brain won’t, but your heart will!!!”

❍▲ “it’s true that, as the Change God, i can’t do much to help you all. but i feel okay with that, because you all have the real power! you’re really strong mirabelle! ლ(ಠ益ಠ)ლ”

❍◎ “just the will to change things is enough to do anything! and look how far you’ve gotten without my help!o(>ω<)o but if that’s not enough…”

The figure’s form dissipates, revealing a single, small, cloaked figure, with the face of the statue from earlier. For a brief second, their voice feels different.

❍ “You are loved, mirabelle. i see you changing, even if you do not. you are always changing, evolving, growing. and even if you’re not, that’s ok. Because life might be about changes, but sometimes it’s about staying right where you are, sometimes. i’m proud of you, and i love you!”

She looks at them not sure what to say. You’re just happy to see her happy at this point.

❍ “and i love this stupid face you made me and i’m never letting anyone destroy it!!! got it?”

Mirabelle gives them a hug. The figure seems surprised! But allows it.

◉ “….Thank you. You’re not what I was expecting, but I’d expect nothing less. Thank you so much…”

❍◎ “hehehe…. euphie is right, you’re super stinking cute!”

Mirabelle lets go, and wipes away her tears.

❍✿ “okay! that’s your special god call! i’ll send you back now, but i’ma chat with your friend here a little more!”

◉ “Huh? WAH-”

In a blink, Mirabelle is gone. It’s just you and the change god now…

Their disguise melts. Their form shifts. Their cloak billows out and grows to tower over you. Their face pure shadow. As they speak, their demeanor shifts, ever so slightly. Their voice echoes in the unheard sound only you hear. The space fills with twirling shapes.

❍ “Sorry to keep you waiting. But I wanted to talk to her first. She needs those words desperately, and has been waiting for them from me for a while now!”

✦ “I-I um!”

❍ “It’s alright!!! I know. I know. About the island, about the timeloops, about who you are and... It’s okay…. I-I’m sorry I can’t help you much! It made me very happy to see my little gift helped make you happy!!! Y-You’ve been through a lot.”

You… They care. They care? And they did know? They know and… and you’re crying. You’ve stopped holding your eyes in shape, your horn is out, your heart glows, you just collapse. And you’re crying.

❍ “I um!! okay, maybe you just need a second to let it out a bit? Oh, I’m not very good at this….”

They give you a hug. You can barely breathe through the tears. They know what you did, this being that cares so much for life, and yet… Hearing them say it, hearing them tell you they care even despite everything...

❍ “...You know, for a lot of people, I’d be kinda upset at the whole ‘locking a major place of change in time’ thing, but I know you’re trying, and you don’t want to do that. Just like you didn’t want to hurt those on the island… I’m sure you’ll find a way to fix it, and you’ll make good use of the time. I’m rooting for you.”

✦ “I-I!!… thank you…I don’t know if I deserve it though….”

❍ “…. I have a message from my partner. A patron of your home.”

Huh?!!!

They pull back a bit, still holding you, looking you head on with their void of a face. And sing, in the voice of the stars:

Oh dear and precious fallen star

We’ve seen you travel, long and far.

Through trials filled with pain and fear

We know you’ll hold to all that’s dear

So sing your song, o mournful Dove

But know that you have always been Loved.

You… You feel hands. Hugging you. Not the change gods, but ones that feel… familiar… Feel kind. Feel like…

You see tears drip down from the Change Gods hood. They’re crying? Why are they crying for you? You killed so many… you don’t deserve it...

❍ “You have always been loved. Not as Siffrin, but as you….”

They pull you close again. Your tears mix with theirs as they pool into the space below you.

❍ “Y-Your cloak was made so you could wander the streets... Your tinkers tools so you could make things yourself…. That device in your pocket to show you the world when it wasn’t safe for you to be out... That gun so you could defend yourself even when you didn’t trust yourself up close... Your skill with music was taught because it helped you talk and they wanted to hear your voice… and…. And….”

You can’t… You can’t stop crying…. They… were for you? All along? But…. But…

❍ “And I wish I could have done something!!! You shouldn’t have had to deal with any of this!!! So please, please!!! Don’t forget that!!! Don’t forget that people have loved you always, no matter what!!!”

❍ “…You’re so young. So young for what you are. You shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

You… you hug them back. Stars, you need to hug them. You need to hold them close. You wish you could hug these figures you barely remember, tell them you’re sorry, wish you could remember who they were. Wish you could remember why they cared for you. And… at the very least, you’ll hold close someone. You need to hug SOMEONE. The Change God hugs you tighter.

❍ “...I… Can’t keep you here for much longer. So. Don’t worry, I’ll give you the keyknife as many times as you need it, I’ll wait for you to get out of this, and… I’ll be rooting for you. Okay? Just promise me, you’ll remember what I said?”

You struggle to speak through your tears. You… really were loved…

✦ “…Yeah. I will. T-Thank you…”

You feel them fade away, as the room starts to form.

You put yourself back together as it does. Physically at least. But the tears aren’t stopping. You turn towards Mira. She’s crying a little too.

✿ “HEY!!!!”

▲ “Mira, Sif! Are you both alright?!”

◉ “What… just happened? I can’t… Siffrin?”

You can’t speak. You can’t stop crying.

▲ “SIF?!? Are you okay? Say something!!”

✦ “S̴̯̕orry! I just… I…”

You can’t help but laugh. You… You feel a bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow. You don’t know how to process it at all.

◉ “I think we experienced something… Incredible? But I can’t remember it anymore.”

You do. You’ll never forget. You won’t let yourself. You take a deep breath, and dry your tears.

◆ “Are you alright now Siffrin?”

✦ “I… Yeah. Come on. We have a king to beat.”

You smile. It’s bittersweet… You want to remember them. So badly now. They loved you, they cared for you. And you can’t even remember a thing about them…

No. One more memory surfaces. They said… they said…

It takes strength to see what you want from the world. Don’t give up on it ever.

You HAVE to find a way to remember them. You can’t let them be forgotten, not a second longer, not when you’ve gotten so close… But… You’ll need help… and there’s only one person who’d try. Who COULD help.

It’s time to meet the king.

✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸✸

...There’s a look in Stardust's eye.

This loop was doing so good. They’re all happy. They deserve that. They’ve been at this for a while, even if they aren’t aware of it. And the change god was very kind to say that. But…

Stardust isn’t thinking clearly. They haven't been for a while. The last two they remembered clearer because you fed them proper food, but it’s not easy to get that. And you have this sinking feeling things are going to take a turn for the worse. Very fast.

You hope you are wrong.

[grimaldiapologist]

( send me a Pride Month prompt or I'm replacing you, the reader, with ChatGPT. )

@bonesandbolts / AO3 link

--------

“Come on, I can’t believe this…” The woman brushed back her dark hair, reaching just underneath her bony shoulders revealed partially from underneath her loose, wide-necked shirt. Its sleeves were crumpled up above her elbows, exposing lengths of pale arm, ending in bony wrists and slender hands, one ring on her left index finger and one on the thumb, then another on the right index finger, with a loose brass bracelet to accompany it.

She was giving her phone's screen a despairing stare.

Tim was glancing at her from underneath his cascade of curly hair covering that side of his face. The other, exposed by the undercut, felt cold under the pub’s aircon.

“Who the hell would pass up on a snack like me…? I thought I had it this time. Goddamnit…”

She clearly didn’t know that she was being heard, or seen, by anyone. Tim might as well have been air to her. No matter; he was good at coming out of the shadows. Even now, the way he slid his body around until his knee was facing her and his lap was revealed from underneath the shadows of the counter, the way he relaxed onto the elbow of his right side - he looked natural, and he knew it. He’d been here a thousand times.

“Ghosted?”

“Oh, yeah. Guess I must have hit up a whole haunted house, this is the third time in - doesn’t matter,” she sighed, finally giving him a look. It seemed to change her mind about something, and Tim enjoyed that. He straightened his spine and cocked a brow.

“No way,” he said with an exaggerated look of surprise on his features. “Damn, they don’t know what they’re missing out on.”

“Yeah, right. A cocktail of sweet summer fun and a gallon of bad memes,” the woman half-laughed, half-grunted. She had a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Does that cocktail have a name? I’m Tim, by the way. Short for Timothy. And you can call me whatever you’d like.”

She examined him, and Tim knew she was trying hard to make up her mind about him. He was putting up a good pose, a relaxed, cocky head tilt, letting the soft bump of his lower belly press up against the loose shirt over his otherwise long frame. His fingers, littered with freckles this time of the year like the clothes of a spray painter were marked with collateral, headed for the sharp bumps of his collarbones. His shirt, between hot pink and a shade of fleshy purple, didn’t quite match the way hers hung over her shoulders, but left little to imagination as it was.

“Alice,” she said hesitantly, grinning, “Tell me, what’s a snack like you doing here all alone?”

“Same as you, looks like,” Tim chuckled and gave it a defeated half-shrug. “I was gonna meet someone but they didn’t turn up, and now I’m washing away the pain with piña colada and regret.”

“So it’s just us, then,” Alice noted.

“Snacks and cocktails with no buyers in sight. Seems like,” Tim confirmed.

“Waste of my money, really,” Alice pointed out. “Since I didn’t come here to pay for my own drinks.”

“Funny, because neither did I.”

“Oh, damnit. I was hoping for a Prince Charming.”

“Sorry, turns out I’m a princess, too. But you should have got that by now, since we’re both stuck in this tower.”

She had a nice laugh - the kind of a bitter, sarcastic laugh that Tim knew he’d enjoy listening over a drunken conversation late at night. It wasn’t late, though; barely seven in the evening. He’d have to put in at least some effort to make it stretch further, for science of course, to see if he’d really enjoy it when he was too far off his mind to worry about tomorrow.

“You know what?” Alice said then, breaking Tim out of his early plans.

“No, you’ll have to tell me first.”

“I think you and I,” she carried on, evidently ignoring his quip, “should get the hell out of here and go somewhere much cheaper.”

“Like where?”

“My place? I’ve got some really good movies I’ve been planning to watch.”

Tim snorted. “Wait, are you calling me in for a Netflix and chill?”

Alice let out a raspberrying sigh. “Nah, mate, I’m calling you in for Netflix and beer. It’s the best I’ve got but it’s already paid for and besides, I’m going to look awfully sad if I get to all of that on my own later when I’m already drunk.”

Tim chuckled. “Sold,” he said, then emptied the rest of his drink without really tasting it. “Two heartbroken princesses and a movie night. Who needs a man anyway?”

“Not me,” Alice confirmed, wiped her hands on a napkin and stood up. “I’m done with dating apps for at least another month.”

[objectsarebestest]

So yesterday I saw a fairly disturbing post in the objectum tags and I’ve been planning this response ever since. I don’t know if I’m fully 100% ready, but I know that if I wait until I am the post will never be made. I’m not going to link the post this was triggered by or name the poster. Those who self-harm deserve respect and the help they need, not being targeted. I’m actually glad this post was made in a way, because it alerted me to a problem in the weapum community that I want to address.

The post ahead will discuss self-harm, which is why I will be putting it under a read-more. Do not feel pressured to read it if doing so would put you in a bad mindset or trigger you.

I’m weapum, which is an objectum microlabel for those who are attracted to weapons. Specifically, one of my object partners is a kitchen knife. His name is William, but I call him Will for short. He’s beautiful. The way his handle is shaped to give you the perfect grip, the way his serrated edge glints in the light, just everything about him. I think he might be my favorite knife in the whole world.

I also am an ex-cutter who struggles with self-harm urges. Honestly, the only reason I quit was because I can’t get away with it anymore. I still have the scars on my left thigh. They don’t look like self-harm scars. They’re not straight lines. They’re more wiggly marks, a couple round marks that look like holes, etc. But I know what they are. They are proof that I failed the body I live in.

When I discovered my crush on Will, I thought he was different. I felt secure with him. The way his blade shines felt like him smiling at me. Until the day I regret. I was alone. Always a bad sign. I went downstairs and opened the drawer that Will lives in. I felt like I was in a trance. I took him out and started running his blade over my skin. I was testing his sharpness. I don’t know what I was really planning on doing. Or maybe I just don’t want to admit it. As soon as I drew blood I snapped out of it and panicked. I ran upstairs crying and texted a mental health hotline.

I feel terrible. For using him like that. But there’s no way to erase what I did. I don’t want to say it ruined our relationship. We’re still dating. But it changed it, and not for the better. I feel this apprehension around him that I didn’t feel before. And his energy around me is definitely different. I wish I could erase what I did with him. Hurting myself with him nearly broke our bond. So when I heard that some weapum hurt themselves as part of their bond, I had to address it.

If your object partner is encouraging you to hurt yourself, you need to get rid of them. I had to learn this the hard way due to a skirt ex-friend of mine. It doesn’t matter if that object is saying that they tell you to hurt yourself because they love you, or because they’re your friend, or because it will ultimately help you. An object who really loved you wouldn’t do things like that. You can donate them, sell them, or throw them away. If they’re a weapon, there are mental health charities that allow you to mail your blades to them to help with quitting. You’re allowed to feel sad. You’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to miss them. Just like I miss my skirt. But they are endangering you.

If you’re hurting yourself because you think that’s the best way to bond with your object partner, you’re wrong. There are so many things to do to bond with a knife other than self-harm. Me and Will cook together. That feeling of moving in unison while mincing carrots or slicing strawberries, watching the light hit his blade until we both feel electrified. But Will is designed for cooking. You can take your knife out hunting, use it to carve a wooden sculpture, learn knife throwing (safely and with the right kind of knife!) or just admire each other’s beauty.

If you have mental health problems that cause you to want to self-harm, like I do, that’s okay. It’s not a moral fault to be mentally ill. But your weapon partner is enabling you. Seek help. Real help. If you’ve tried that before and it didn’t help, try again. Keep looking. There is help out there. Your object partner should be proud of you for getting better. And if they’re not, they aren’t the right object for you. They don’t deserve you.

I hope this helps someone, even one weapum. Hopefully.

[chicgeekgirl89]

Fandom: 911 Lone Star Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes Rating: T Summary: In the early days of their budding relationship, Carlos and T.K. discover some of each other's more adorable characteristics. Or, five times Carlos learns adorable things about T.K. and one time T.K. learns something adorable about Carlos. A/N: So what had happened was, I wrote "Glasses and Smut and Your Naked Butt" and then I had too many cute little scenarios to fit into a 5+1 so I wrote a second one. Cheers! Read on AO3

Kitty

Carlos has never met anyone who can go from zero to sixty the way T.K. can. He barely has the Camaro in park before T.K. is leaning across the console, pulling him in for a dirty, dirty kiss full of tongue and teeth and desire. Normally Carlos would protest this kind of activity in the car, but they’re right in front of the condo, it’s late, and therefore unlikely that anyone will see them.

So he lets T.K. go on and doesn’t say a word as he somehow maneuvers himself across the console and into Carlos’ lap, which, quite honestly, is where Carlos wanted him for the entirety of dinner anyway. He’d been so enchanted with the idea of actually dating T.K. instead of just being his fuck buddy that he hadn’t quite thought through how hard it would be to keep his hands off of him in public.

“Put the seat back,” T.K. says breathlessly in between kisses.

Carlos follows his orders, both of them slowly reclining downward toward the backseat, while somehow managing never to fully detach from one another. Carlos’ breath catches as T.K. bites into his earlobe. “Do you want to take this inside?” he finally asks, when it seems like T.K. isn’t going to be content with just a heavy make out session.

T.K. pauses long enough to flash him a smirk. “No. Live a little Reyes.”

If anyone else uttered those words Carlos would push them off and call it a night. But T.K. Strand has cast some kind of spell on him, so Carlos lays back and watches greedily as T.K. sits up and starts to take off his shirt. His eyes follow the motion of T.K.’s hands as they slowly work at his buttons and then suddenly freeze. “Oh my god!” T.K. yells.

“What? What?!” Carlos asks in a panic, sitting up abruptly and almost hitting his head on the car’s roof.

“There’s a cat!”

“There’s—what?” Carlos asks in confusion, his heart still pounding away in his chest having imagined that T.K. was seeing an ax murderer or a bear or Mr. Johnson who sometimes walks around with his bathrobe open.

“There’s a cat out there!”

Before Carlos can formulate a response, T.K. has vaulted off of his lap and out of the car leaving Carlos shocked and alone. He takes a second to adjust his pants before getting up and following his boyfriend.

T.K. is kneeling on the sidewalk, hand outstretched, making little “pspsps” noises. 

“T.K. what are you doing?” Carlos asks, shifting back and forth, still trying to alleviate the situation in his pants that his boyfriend started but did not finish.

“There’s a cat. Look! Come here kitty, that’s right, who’s a good kitty?” 

A black cat with white markings on its chin and paws wanders over to T.K. and starts to rub up against his hand. “Oh, god, T.K. be careful, it could have fleas,” Carlos says.

“You don’t have fleas, do you? No you don’t,” T.K. says, using a voice that Carlos has never heard before. “It’s too well taken care of to be a stray. No collar though. Do you know whose it is? It must be one of your neighbors.”

“I’ve never seen it before,” Carlos says. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

“We can’t leave it!” T.K. says. “It must have slipped out. Someone will be looking for it. It can’t stay out here all night alone.”

“T.K.,” Carlos sighs. “What do you want me to do? It’s late. We can’t exactly go knock on doors.”

T.K. fixes him with a look as he scoops the cat up into his arms and cradles it like a baby, the cat perfectly content to let him. “Are you a police officer or not? Start police officering.”

“Pretty sure cats are more of a firefighter thing,” Carlos says wryly.

T.K. squares his shoulders. “Carlos. This baby is out here alone and afraid. We need to find out who it—” T.K. glances down at the cat’s belly and back up, “who he belongs to and get him home.”

Carlos feels a smile twisting at his lips. T.K. looks adorable standing there in the glow of the streetlight, fiercely protecting an animal he met two minutes ago. It’s precious really.

“He might belong to Mrs. O’Grady,” Carlos says. “She has like five cats. Let’s go see if her light is still on.”

“Thank you,” T.K. says in relief. “Come on little buddy, let’s go find your home.

Mornings

The first time Carlos wakes up with T.K. next to him, it’s one of the most thrilling moments of his entire life. He feels warm and safe and happy and there’s a sense of victory in it too because T.K. has held him at arm’s length for so long. To finally see his patience rewarded feels like a huge step forward. Staying the night is something couples do. It’s permanent, not just chasing a high.

He watches T.K. for a while, memorizing how he looks in the soft light of the morning, the way his mouth hangs open a little bit, his arms and legs splayed out awkwardly across the mattress, his hair a glorious wreck.

This is a T.K. that few people get to see, and Carlos is elated to finally be one of them.

Eventually nature calls and he slips from his bed to take care of business and then go make them some coffee. He assumes T.K. will wake up and wander out when the smell starts to waft upstairs, but he doesn’t.

Carlos goes to check on him and finds him in exactly the same position as half an hour before. He chalks it up to a very successful night of sex and heads back down to start working on french toast.

He takes his time, enjoying the feeling of cooking for someone other than just himself. Another thirty minutes roll by as he cooks and there’s still no sign of T.K. when he’s done.

He plates up their French toast, bacon, pours them each a cup of coffee, setting it all on the table before making his way upstairs.

T.K. has wrapped himself in the sheet and pulled it up over his head like a cocoon. Carlos smiles and is tempted to snap a picture, but instead he kneels on the mattress and gently pulls the blankets away from T.K.’s face. “Good morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to T.K.’s forehead.

Nothing.

He sits down on the mattress and puts his hand on T.K.’s hip. “It’s time to wake up,” he whispers teasingly, shaking him a little bit.

Still nothing.

What the hell?

Now he’s actually concerned. “T.K., hey,” he says, shaking him a little more harshly. 

“Gowayyyy.”

The words are slurred together and punctuated by a swipe of T.K.’s arm that narrowly misses hitting Carlos in the ribs. 

Okay, so at least he’s alive. That’s something. 

“I made breakfast,” Carlos says softly, brushing his fingers through T.K.’s hair. Surely that will be enough to get him going.

It only gets him another grumble. 

Carlos sits back, struggling to decide if he’s amused or disappointed. He’s just about decided to go back downstairs and eat his breakfast alone when T.K.’s arm slaps the empty expanse of mattress between them and then a sort of muffled sound escapes him, that bears a passing resemblance to, “Come here.”

Carlos’ eyebrows rise and he has to stifle a laugh as T.K.’s arm flops around again and then finally connects with Carlos’ thigh. He curls his hand around it and gives a feeble tug, not enough to actually move him, but enough to indicate that he wants Carlos to come closer.

“I’m confused. Do you want me to leave or stay?” Carlos asks in amusement.

T.K. turns his head so that he’s facing Carlos, even though his eyes are still closed, and gives another tug. Carlos chuckles and obliges, sliding down so that he’s parallel to T.K. on his side.

T.K. immediately curls into him, mashing his face into Carlos’ chest and hooking a leg over his hip. Carlos quirks a fond smile and runs a hand through T.K.’s hair.

“D’you mke me brkfst?” T.K.’s voice is scratchy but slightly more intelligible now.

“I did,” Carlos says. “I thought it would be a nice way to start the day.”

T.K. hums into his chest and then, with a valiant effort, opens his eyes and squints up at Carlos. “I hate mornings,” he says.

Carlos bursts out laughing. “Yeah, I kind of figured that out,” he says, stroking a hand through T.K.’s hair.

His eyes close again and he snuggles more tightly into Carlos. “What did you make me?”

“French toast and bacon. And coffee.”

T.K. hums against him. “That sounds good.”

“Sooo…are you going to get up and eat it?” Carlos asks.

“I’m trying.”

“This is you trying?”

T.K. cracks one eyelid. “It’s a process.”

“So I see. How do you manage to get up for calls at work?”

“That’s different.”

Carlos fails to see how, but he doesn’t push it. “What if I bring your breakfast up here?”

That gets him two eyeballs. “You don’t like food in bed.”

That’s true. The thought of crumbs between his sheets makes Carlos shudder. But breakfast is ready and T.K. is not, and he looks so damn cute all bed rumpled and sleepy that it’s making Carlos throw some rules out the window. “I’ll make an exception this time.”

T.K. rolls onto his back, a smile on his face as he stretches and puts his hands behind his head. “This house comes with five star service.”

“This is a special occasion. Don’t get used to it,” Carlos says, giving him a peck on the nose before rising to go get their food. 

But the fact is, T.K. could ask Carlos to bring him breakfast in bed every day for the rest of his life and he’d do it. That’s just how it’s going to be. 

Chat

Carlos is pulled from sleep by someone’s voice. At first he thinks he might have fallen asleep in front of the TV or maybe with a podcast going. But the more he rouses, the more he realizes the sound isn’t steady and clear enough to be either one of those.

He blinks a few times, trying to get his bearings. His room is dark, it’s clearly still the middle of the night, and T.K. is pressed up against him, head pillowed against his chest.

The sound stops and Carlos listens intently, his heart now speeding up in his chest as he tries to figure out if it was real or a dream. If it was real…is there someone in the condo? 

He’s about ready to slide out of bed and grab his off-duty weapon to go investigate when T.K. lets out a big snuffling sound and then says, “nthebthtb.”

Carlos relaxes at the realization that the sound was just his boyfriend and gently brushes a hand over his arm. “You okay babe?” he whispers into the darkness.

T.K.’s face contracts into a scowl. “‘nthe bathtub.”

“What?”

“Put it in the bathtub.”

The words are clearer now, but Carlos is beyond confused. “Put what in the bathtub?”

T.K.’s head whips up and turns in Carlos’ general direction, his eyes still closed, his neck bent at an awkward angle. “The alligator!”

Carlos shifts so that he’s sitting more upright and looks down at T.K. with raised eyebrows. “T.K. there’s no alligator.”

“No you…you have to put it in the bathtub,” T.K. demands again.

He looks so distressed that Carlos has to bite back a laugh. “Okay, I’ll put the alligator in the bathtub.”

T.K. mumbles something unintelligible and snuggles in against Carlos again before whipping his head up one more time. “And socks!”

“The alligator needs socks?”

“No.” T.K. pauses for so long that Carlos starts to worry that he’s going to get a crick in his neck before finally saying, “Don’t let him eat…the purple ones.”

Then he flops back down and lets out a snort before seeming to go fully back to sleep, leaving Carlos amused and very curious.

Carlos has an early shift and T.K. is still sound asleep when he leaves, so he doesn’t get to mention anything about their bizarre middle-of-the-night conversation until he gets home at the end of the day.

“Hey babe!” T.K. says cheerfully, coming to give him a sweet kiss as he walks through the door. “I made Italian wedding soup and got bread from that new bakery down the street. Should be ready in like fifteen minutes.”

“Sounds good,” Carlos says as he finishes removing his shoes. He reaches into his work bag. “I got you a present.”

T.K.’s already halfway back into the kitchen, but he turns back, surprise on his face. “A present? Wait,” he frowns. “Did I forget something? Is today—“

“Relax,” Carlos says with a chuckle. “You didn’t forget anything. This is a just-because gift.”

T.K.’s face brightens again. “Oh well in that case, gimme gimme!”

He holds out his hands and Carlos drops a small plastic bag into them. T.K. reaches inside and pulls out a pair of bright purple socks. “Wow, thanks babe!”

“I promise not to let the alligator eat them,” Carlos says, trying to smother the smile on his face.

T.K.’s brow furrows. “What alligator?”

“The alligator in the bathtub.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Did you hit your head today?” T.K. asks. Then he freezes and addresses himself, a concerned look on his face. “Wait, did I hit my head today?”

Carlos full on laughs and decides to put him out of his misery. “Last night in the middle of the night you woke me up to tell me to put an alligator in the bathtub. And then you were very insistent that he not eat purple socks.”

“Oh my god.” A blush forms on T.K.’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I—sometimes I sleep talk. It used to happen a lot when I was a kid and I mostly grew out of it, but once in a while it still happens. Usually only if I’m really tired. It’s been so long since I’ve spent the night with anybody, I didn’t think to tell you.”

He looks so adorably embarrassed that Carlos reaches for his hips and pulls him in so their bodies are flush against one another, needing to touch him. He quirks a smile. “That,” he says, “is very cute.”

“No it’s not, it’s embarrassing,” T.K. says, squirming a little bit. “Sometimes I say really weird stuff.”

“Trust me when I tell you that is not the weirdest middle of the night conversation I’ve had,” Carlos assures him. “You wouldn’t believe how many drunk and stoned people think they’re Jesus when they’re hauled into lock-up at three am. I’ll take your alligators any day.”

T.K. snorts. “I have definitely never claimed to be a deity.”

Carlos raises an eyebrow and bites his lip before saying, “That’s true, although I do seem to remember you saying the Lord’s name an awful lot when we went to bed last night.”

T.K. shoves his bicep good-naturedly. “What I say in the throes of passion is supposed to stay in the throes of passion Carlos.”

“So what you’re telling me is that anything we say in bed is privileged information?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm, good to know.”

Thief

Where the hell is his APD t-shirt? 

Carlos stands in front of his closet, hands on his hips as he stares into its depths, completely baffled. He’d worn it to a workout two weeks ago and he’s sure he put it into the laundry. He had to have. He’s checked his gym bag, the trunk of the Camaro, his locker at work, the laundry basket itself, and the washer, just in case it had gotten stuck to the side and he hadn’t noticed. It’s been three full days of searching and now he’s sure. It’s not here. 

It’s not anywhere.

Which doesn’t make any sense. Because t-shirts don’t just get up and walk away. 

It’s not that big of a deal. It’s only a t-shirt after all. One from his brief stint on the department softball league a few years ago. It’s just that Carlos is a careful, meticulous person. There’s a system to his laundry. And now, after all these years, it’s really eating at him that it might have failed. 

He’s about to dive back into round five of removing every single thing from his closet, when he hears the front door open. “Carlos? You home?”

It’s T.K.’s voice and it sounds off, meaning Carlos immediately abandons his search and goes downstairs to soothe whatever has his boyfriend’s spirits down.

T.K.’s doing that thing where he kind of pulls back into himself, and it takes some coaxing for Carlos to tease the full story of his shitty day out of him. Then there’s cuddling, kissing, dinner, and more kissing before Carlos offers to run T.K. a bath and let him relax for a bit. 

He’s finishing up the dishes when T.K. comes back downstairs and wraps his arms around Carlos’ waist from behind. He smells like the lavender scented soap that Carlos left out for him and Carlos breathes it in before turning around to give him another kiss. “Better?” he asks, running a hand through T.K.’s hair, down to cup the nape of his neck.

“Yeah,” T.K. says. “Thank you.” He looks up and Carlos can still see some vulnerability in his eyes. “Is it okay if I stay here tonight?”

It’s on the tip of Carlos’ tongue to tell him he can stay every night for the rest of his life if he wants, but he’s learned T.K. well enough to know now isn’t the moment. “Of course,” he says instead. “You’re always welcome here.”

He’s about to ask if T.K. needs to borrow something to sleep in, but then he looks down and the words die on his tongue. He takes a step back, brow furrowing.

“What?” T.K. asks. “Is something wrong?”

“Is that my APD shirt?” Carlos asks.

He already knows the answer, but he’s so surprised it’s the only thing that comes out. 

“Um…no?” T.K. says, trying for innocent and failing miserably.

“T.K. it has my name on the back,” Carlos says.

“There are lots of people with the last name Reyes in Austin.”

“Right and I’m sure so many of them played on the department softball team in 2018,” Carlos replies. “Where did you find it? I’ve been looking for it everywhere.”

“It was in your drawer,” T.K. says, but he’s no longer meeting Carlos’ eyes. 

“It was not in my drawer,” Carlos says. “I looked. Several times.”

T.K. shrugs. “Well you’re welcome that I found it then.”

Carlos narrows his eyes. “You didn’t find it. You stole it.”

T.K.’s jaw drops. “Carlos. You’re accusing me, a brave, loyal member of the AFD, who serves his community on a daily basis, of stealing?”

“It’s not an accusation, it’s a fact,” Carlos says, tapping a finger against T.K.’s chest. “You stole this out of my laundry.”

“Not sure those charges are going to stick in court, officer.”

“T.K.” Carlos growls out his name.

“Okay, fine, I stole it!” T.K. says. “I was getting ready for work here last week after you left and I realized I’d forgotten a shirt to wear to the station. It was in your clean laundry basket so I grabbed it and wore it. I was going to wash it and bring it back but then…”

He looks embarrassed so Carlos softens his gaze and drops the teasing facade. “Then what?” he asks gently.

“It was just so soft and comfortable and…it kind of felt like being with you. Even when I wasn’t. So I kept it.” He looks up and scrunches his nose a little. “Sorry?”

Carlos is speechless. His heart feels so soft that it’s making his knees go a little weak. He cups T.K.’s face in both of his hands. “You don’t need to be sorry. You can keep it.”

“Yeah?” T.K. asks.

“Yeah,” Carlos assures him. “But we can also find a drawer for you, if you want. So you can keep some of your own stuff here.”

“You’re just saying that so I don’t steal more of your clothes.”

Carlos scrunches his nose, making a silly face so T.K. knows he’s teasing. “Maybe. A little.” He presses a kiss to T.K.’s lips. “But it’s also because I want you here.”

“Thanks,” T.K. says softly, that warm, reassured glow back in his eyes. “So…is this when I tell you that I also have a pair of your shorts? And some socks?”

Filibuster

T.K. is sitting on the couch when Carlos comes down from his shower. This is a little surprising only because Carlos thought T.K. might join him in the shower. It doesn’t usually take much more than a light hint. Often the phrase, “I’m going to take a shower” is enough to get T.K. on his feet and stripping off his clothes, but today he’s right where Carlos left him, staring at his phone.

“I’m making stuffed peppers for dinner. Does that sound good?” Carlos asks.

“Yeah, sure,” T.K. says quickly, like he’s very distracted. “Did you know there’s a type of tarantula that keeps frogs as pets?”

Carlos blinks a few times, as he takes this information in. “No, I did not know that,” he says, heading for the kitchen to find the peppers.

T.K. gets up and follows him. “There’s this type of frog in South America that evolved to taste bad. So tarantulas won’t eat them and instead they keep them to eat all the bugs and stuff around their homes and keep their spider babies safe. They’re like a tiny little tarantula pet cat.”

Carlos turns around and nearly knocks T.K. over, not having realized that his boyfriend was standing so close behind him. He reaches out and gently moves him out of the way as he heads for the stove and begins to prep the filling for the peppers. 

“I just think it’s so cool, two completely different species living together like that,” T.K. continues, hopping up onto the counter, that hyper-focused look in his eye. “Nature is amazing. Forming symbiotic relationships all the time.”

“That is cool,” Carlos says. He chops the peppers in half and rinses them out to remove the seeds.

“Sharks have that too,” T.K. continues. “Those little fish that attach themselves on and eat all the scraps from the shark’s meals. What are they called?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I’ll look it up.”

For a moment there’s only the sound of ground turkey sizzling on the stove as T.K. busies himself in his phone. “Oh right. Remora fish.”

“Of course,” Carlos says in amusement. “How could I have forgotten that?”

“And rhinos! With the birds that are always hanging around!” T.K. sighs. “They’re so cute.”

Carlos walks over and pats the side of T.K.’s thigh. “Move please,” he says mildly, waiting until T.K. shifts over enough that he can get into the drawer that’s hidden behind his legs.  He extracts the spoon he needs and then taps the space again indicating that T.K. can move back, which he does, still talking. “We had a pet frog in my class when I was in third grade. His name was Sir Henry. He died on the hundredth day of school.” At this T.K. looks a little glum. Then he perks up. “But my teacher got a hamster after that and we got to vote on a name. We picked Pikachu.”

“Sounds fun.”

“I wonder if hamsters have a symbiotic relationship with another animal,” T.K. says, picking his phone back up again. “Hm. Nope,” he says after a minute. “But, hamsters will eat their babies if you don’t separate them. Oh! Did you know that it’s illegal to own just one guinea pig in Switzerland? You have to have two because they’re social animals and they’ll get lonely. But then in Peru people eat them for special occasions. Isn’t that crazy how different those two countries are?”

“Almost as crazy as spiders keeping frogs as pets.”

“I wish I had a pet frog,” T.K. says. “Do you think Buttercup would eat it?”

“I’ve seen Buttercup eat his own poop. Yes. I think he would eat a frog if he could catch it. Do you want your filling spicy or not spicy?”

“Spicy,” T.K. says immediately. “I have an old aquarium tank, it could live in there and I wouldn’t take it out if Buttercup was around—wait, do frogs get lonely? Would I need to get two? What if they had babies? Then I’d have hundreds of frogs and I don’t think the tank would hold more than a couple.”

“An overcrowded frog tank does seem uncomfortable. Do you want dressing on your salad?”

“Do you have that organic balsamic still?”

“I think there’s some left.”

“That then please.” He steals a piece of carrot and pops it into his mouth, talking around it. “Maybe I’ll get a tarantula instead. I think a tarantula would be okay by itself.”

“Please do not get a tarantula,” Carlos says with a soft chuckle.

This catches T.K.’s attention and he smiles. “Are you afraid of spiders?”

Carlos wipes his hands on a towel and goes to him, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of T.K.’s legs. “I’m not afraid. I just have a healthy respect for them.”

T.K. eyes him, his mouth twisting into a smile. “You’ve been letting me talk about spiders and frogs for like half an hour.”

“I have.”

“You don’t think that’s annoying?”

Carlos kisses the tip of his nose. “Not in the slightest. You’re cute when you chat at me.”

The fact is he loves it. His home has been so devoid of this wild energy and now that it’s here he doesn’t know how he ever lived without it. 

T.K. drops his eyes, a slight flush creeping over his cheeks. “Thanks.”

“I did miss you in my shower though,” Carlos tells him. “So next time you decide to go down an internet rabbit hole, maybe you could do it when I’m not all naked and wet.”

T.K. bites his lip, his eyes lighting up. “I will work on my timing.”

+1: Hangry

T.K. is delighted to be picking Carlos up for a change. He’s borrowed his dad’s truck for the night (he’s going to get his own car soon…ish…) to surprise Carlos with a fun evening out.

“Hey,” he says excitedly as Carlos slides into the passenger seat, leaning in for a kiss. “You look great.”

Carlos is in jeans and a black polo that is juuuuuust a tad bit too tight in the best kind of way. It nearly distracts T.K. enough to cancel the date and drag Carlos back upstairs to his bed instead, but he forces himself to focus. He knows Carlos has had kind of a rough week at work and he’s determined to make tonight extra fun to make up for it.

“Hey,” Carlos says, his smile genuine, although there’s a little tightness around his eyes that T.K. wants to soothe away with his thumb and butterfly kisses. “Thanks for picking me up. It’s good to see you.”

The way those words melt him inside. Carlos is so good at saying little things that to anyone else would mean almost nothing; but to T.K. they mean the world. He still hasn’t quite gotten used to how much Carlos likes having him around.

“How was your day?” T.K. asks as he pulls out into traffic, carefully navigating between cars that are driving way too slowly for his taste.

“It was um,” Carlos stumbles over his words as T.K. hits the brakes and then accelerates around a Ford Fiesta that he deems far too slow. “It was fine. Just one of those weeks, you know?”

“Yeah,” T.K. says sympathetically. “Well don’t worry. Tonight we’re going to forget all about work. I promise.”

Minutes later T.K. neatly swings them into a parking spot. “Oh,” Carlos says in confusion as he takes in where they are. “I thought we were going to dinner.”

“We are,” T.K. says. “But, I thought we’d do something fun first. I haven’t played mini golf in forever!”

The 126 had driven by the course on a call the other day, the brightly colored animals and windmills catching his eye out the engine’s window. It seemed like the perfect way to spend an evening. Just relaxing and being silly with each other.

“Right,” Carlos says, something strange flickering in his eyes. 

“You hate mini golf,” T.K. says, feeling crestfallen. “Damn it I should have asked. I’m sorry. It just looked so fun and you’ve had a hard week and I—“

“T.K., T.K., take a breath,” Carlos says, reaching over and taking his hand. “I don’t hate mini golf.”

“We don’t have to stay,” T.K. says, still sensing some odd hesitancy in his boyfriend.

“No let’s do it,” Carlos says. “I haven’t played in forever either. It’ll be fun.”

He’s already sliding out of the car, so T.K. follows him, pushing aside the doubt he’s feeling. Hopefully Carlos’ reticence is just work related.

Hopefully.

They grab some clubs and balls (T.K. chooses green, Carlos picks blue) and then head out to the first hole. 

It goes well enough for a bit, they’re both moderately terrible. Carlos keeps hitting his ball too gently so that it comes rolling back toward him instead of up and over all the little hills, while T.K. takes to swinging with all his strength, his ball ping-ponging around into other greens so he has to go chasing after it.

“That’s a mulligan!” he declares for the third time when his ball hops an embankment and goes splashing down into a little pond.

“You can’t call them all mulligans T.K.,” Carlos says with a sigh that sounds a tad impatient.

“Why not?” T.K. says. “Who are you going to report me to? The police? Oh wait. It’s a little late for that.”

He means it to be flirty but Carlos just gives him sort of a strained smile and a half hearted “haha.”

When they get to the next hole Carlos’ ball does the same thing it’s done every other time and comes rolling straight back out again. “Are you kidding me?!” he cries, a little too loudly and angrily.

T.K. frowns at him, trying to get a read on what’s happening here. Carlos seems off. Like super off.

T.K. walks up and places his own ball down, but before he can swing Carlos says, “Can you please take a step back?”

T.K. lowers his club. “What?”

“You’re too far into the green. It’s cheating.”

He blinks a few times. “Cheating? First I can’t call a mulligan now I’m cheating? It’s just a game Carlos.”

“Yeah, a game that has rules that you’re not following,” Carlos insists. “You’re not supposed to be that far into the green. And don’t think I didn’t see you basically slide your ball into the last hole instead of putting. That one shouldn’t even count.”

“Okay, what is going on here?” T.K. says, feeling annoyance snap sharply at his good mood. “You’re kind of being a dick. If you didn’t want to play mini golf you could have just said so.”

“I told you I like playing mini golf!”

“Well you’re definitely not acting like it!” T.K. fires back. “You’re acting like you’d rather be anywhere else!”

“Why are you putting words into my mouth? Just take your turn and play fair T.K.!”

“Uh, excuse me?” 

The pimply faced teenager who gave them their clubs and balls earlier waves at both of them. “Can we help you?” T.K. asks.

“Hi, yeah, I’m sorry, we’ve had some complaints that you two are fighting. Can you try to keep it down? This is a family establishment.”

T.K. looks at Carlos whose face is going red with embarrassment. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “Won’t happen again.”

The kid leaves and T.K. frowns, putting his hands on his hips. “What is going on with you?” he asks. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I don’t know,” Carlos says sullenly, refusing to meet T.K.’s eyes.

His stomach suddenly gives a loud rumble and all the pieces click into place in T.K.’s brain. “Oh,” he says, annoyance and anger settling back down where they belong. “Okay. I get it.”

He turns and heads for the car.

“What? Get what?” Carlos asks as he follows along, confusion evident on his face.

T.K. stops next to his dad’s truck. “You’re hangry.”

Carlos sputters in indignation. “Hangry?”

“You know. When you get so hungry that the entire world feels like it’s shitting on you and you get all cranky until you eat something. Did you eat lunch today?

“I—“ Carlos considers this. “No. We had to skip it because a call came in.”

T.K. nods in satisfaction. “See? Hangry. Don’t worry. We’ll get you all fixed up in no time.”

He drives to their favorite taco truck. His dinner plans had been bigger and fancier, but this is an emergency. He plops Carlos down at a picnic table (still protesting and whining away, only furthering T.K.’s satisfaction that he’s right) and then marches over to the truck to order two of everything.

He waits until Carlos has wolfed down one birria taco and one fish taco before speaking. “Better?” he asks.

Carlos wipes his mouth on a napkin and reaches for a third taco, chicken this time. “These are so good,” he replies, shoving half of it into his mouth like a man who hasn’t been fed in months. “Thanks.”

“Mhm. So next time, maybe just tell me you’re hangry instead of acting like you put your cranky pants on to see me,” T.K. says.

The sigh that leaves Carlos is long suffering. “I already said I was sorry in the car.”

“Buuuut you didn’t tell me I was right.”

This gets him a withering look. “Do you really need to hear me say it?”

“I mean…I wouldn’t hate it.” God he loves teasing this man. It’s so easy to get a rise out of him.

Carlos huffs. “Fine. You were right. Thank you for feeding me because I was hangry.”

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re annoyed.”

[mlmxreader]

Dad | platonic!John Price x m!reader

Anonymous asked: hello, I was hoping you could do a price and m!reader ,with the reader being a young soldier in the 141 who price personally trained so there’s that sort of father son bond , with the prompt "this is the sixth fight I've had to stop you getting into, what's going on?". I kinda have an ideas that the reader keeps getting in fights with the older soldiers cause they don’t think the reader is deserving of being in the 141 but you don’t have to do specifically that. Thank you:)))

summary: Price’s treatment of you does result in some tension between you and the other soldiers. 

tws: swearing, violence, smoking 

Lazily, you stretched as you folded your arms across your chest, eyes feeling heavy as you yawned so harshly that your eyes watered and your jaw ached; Price had gotten you up early, said something about one of your old RAF colleagues coming over to see how you were doing, and now you were shattered. Price was lucky that he was family, if anything; after he had taken it upon himself to train you up when you first joined the army, seeing you all the way through to joining the RAF and then taking you under his wing so that he could train you for the task force before you joined it under his command, it was hard to think of him as anything else.

He was, after all, the one who had trained you, guided you, mentored you, educated you, clothed you, and on many, many, many occasions, fed you and gave you shelter; all the nights you had crashed on his sofa and had woken up in his bed, tucked in with a little note telling you that he was sorry, but he had needed to go sort something with the task force out and he had prepared your breakfast - all you had to do was to cook it. He came to every awards ceremony that you were a part of, cheered and clapped for you so loudly that you could never hear anyone else. He protected you whenever you got into fights with American soldiers, something he knew you were particularly fond of, always irritating them solely because you knew you could - he had to admit, he was pretty proud that you always won the fight, always took his advice to never strike first and to always hit them back twice as hard.

Often, he remembered the old book he had read when he first joined the military, and the one particular line that stuck out to him above all else: “Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death.”

Price was family. 

As you started to doze off, though, you heard a few posh accents, and although you didn’t open your eyes, you listened closely.

“He’s only in the one four one because Price thinks he’s so fucking great,” one complained,

“It’s essentially nepotism,” the other huffed. “He’s not worth shit - he’s too young, and doesn’t have the right education, to know what real soldiering is.”

“Yeah,” you spoke up. “It’s almost like not spending my entire life pampered by Mummy and Daddy, living off of their money, has somehow made me weak - that right?”

“I’m so, so sorry, Sergeant (y/l/n),” the second shook his head. “I meant no offence, Sir.”

“You posh cunts never do,” you groaned as you got up, stretching again as you let out a yawn and shook yourself off. “Y’know, it’s almost like, because of my merits, I ended up here - not because Daddy paid off the General.”

The second decided that he had had enough, and took a step back as he apologised profusely; many of the other soldiers knew of your reputation for fighting with others solely because you could, and even more knew your reputation for winning in fights, so it was only natural that one of them would immediately back off - you couldn’t say it was unexpected. But the other didn’t, only huffed as he looked you up and down.

“You wouldn’t know real soldiering if it bit you in the backside,” he spat. “You shouldn’t even be here - you should quit before you get us all killed.”

“Oh,” you tutted, shaking your head. “I’m sorry. Is it the fact that I’m not rich, or posh, or privately educated an issue? Or is it the fact that Captain Price trained me, specifically, for this position and not you?”

“You shut up!” He screamed, tears in his eyes already. “You’re so fucking rude! Don’t you know I’m your superior?!”

You took a look at the patch on his shirt, and tried to bite back your laugh. “Says here you’re a private. I outrank you.”

You knew what to do, knew to irritate him into losing his temper so that he would throw the first punch, never expecting that you would hit back twice as hard and get him on the ground, hands on his shoulders for a second before you moved a hand to his throat and pressed down with the majority of your weight, watching him squirm beneath you. 

“(Y/N)!” 

You looked up, and when you saw Price’s face, you smiled. “Hi, Captain.”

“Get off of him,” Price said sternly, and for once, you obeyed an order, coming to stand in front of him. He folded his arms across his chest, and sighed heavily. “My office, now.”

You did as you were told, following him like a dutiful son; where you had spent so much time together, you even walked the same way that he did, and when he sat behind his desk, you chose to lean against the wall, folding your arms across your chest. 

“What can I do for you, Cap?”

“Don’t act cute,” Price growled. “This is the sixth fight I’ve had to stop you getting into, what’s going on? And don’t tell me that it was yanks again, I heard him speak - I know he’s a posh boy.”

“Then you oughta guess why I was gonna smash his skull in,” you pointed out. 

He frowned, licking his lips. “Older and posher soldiers… never change, they never fuckin’ change.”

“They said I was a nepotism baby,” you huffed. “All because of you.”

“You’re not a nepotism baby,” Price told you. “Sit down, (y/n).”

You did as you were told, resting your arms on the solid oak desk and resting your chin on them as you yawned again. “I’m tired, Dad, can’t you just get the shouting match over and call it a day?”

Price fell silent, clenching his jaw. That was the first time he had ever heard you call him that, and if he was honest, he wasn’t exactly sure how to react; sure, he definitely did treat you like you were his own child, maybe more so than the others, but he never thought that it would result in you actually calling him Dad… he swallowed thickly, doing his best not to smile as he watched you close your eyes and tilt your head to the side. He grabbed the blanket he kept spare, threw it over your shoulders, and scoffed. You didn’t say anything, probably already dozing off, and he couldn’t bring himself to reprimand you when you were so fucking tired; maybe when you woke up, if he could be bothered to remember; but he sat there, not bothering to correct you as he thought about it all. 

He trained you, fed you, clothed you, educated you, guided and mentored you, and if was honest, you were probably the closest thing he did have to a son; you would take over his position one day, he was well aware of that no matter how he looked at it, and he was glad that it would be you. He wondered if he could adopt you into his family, but then again, you were well over the age of eighteen, and he was pretty sure that formal adoption wasn’t the way to go; but then, you were listed as his next of kin - and he was listed as yours - on all formal documents anyway, and your postal address was the same as his, and he was your emergency contact… he might as well have adopted you. But as he looked at you now, dozing off on his desk, he couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty; it was because of him that you were getting bullied by the older soldiers, and he wasn’t aware of how he could put a stop to it - unless he got Ghost to shadow you constantly. 

“I’m sorry, son,” Price whispered, sitting opposite you as he lit up a cigar and checked his phone to see if Liverpool were playing. “It’s my fault they’re being a bunch of sodding bastards… I’m sorry, kid.”

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; if you don’t wanna reblog, then you’ll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM.

[cherrifire]

Archived in the Southlands: Martyn's Mix

Case #0211905-C

Original recording from Martyn Littlewood's personal supplemental tape.

[Martyn] Ello, ello! I'm Martyn Littlewood, also known as the Archivist. I reckon I've had that title for about 3 years now? And this is my new personal supplemental tape.

Word count: 2244

Be sure to read Case #0211905-A and Case #0211905-B before this one.

[AU Masterpost]

[Click]

[Martyn] Ello, ello! I'm Martyn Littlewood, also known as the Archivist. I reckon I've had that title for about 3 years now? And this is my new personal supplemental tape.

But to start, this tape is NOT meant for research or theories. I get enough conspiracy theory rubbish at the Institute. Something destroyed the place I was living at with BigB and Grian. And if I have to think about that case one more time, I'll crawl into a grave and let the Buried claim me.

I genuinely just needed a personal tape of my own to ramble on to. Lots goes on in this massive brain of mine. I just need something to talk to and get those thoughts out. This could technically be used as a memory log? Something for me to just look back on later down the line. I actually used to keep a log like that before the Archives and I kind of miss it.

I'm going to leave this tape in my flat so I don't get it confused with the hundreds of other tape recorders floating around the Archives. Maybe I'll be able to catch some fun stuff of my new flatmate too.

Speaking of Ren, I'm going to try and convince him to grow more than just roses. He seems to know a lot about caring for flowers, so I wonder if I could throw him off his game with something completely different. Oh, maybe something we can eat would be cool! I'll mention it next time I see him.

Though, I'm not sure when that'll be. I've noticed he tends to go out a lot, but that doesn't surprise me. He probably gets invited to all sorts of parties and events. Probably for the best.

(a pause)

Oh, good grief! For the record, I am NOT turning this into a gross emotional audio diary either!

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] Someone knocked on the door today looking for Ren. I'd never seen him before but he said his name was Doc. The name reminded me of someone I used to know, but again, I'd never seen him before.

It's not unusual, people come by looking for Ren all the time. It's actually really sweet how many folks just stop by to check on him.

So sweet, it makes me sick. He's usually never here, but I always like to take messages and relay them back to him when I see him. It's hard to forget things nowadays, so it's not an issue. Though, I guess it doesn't really matter, since I like to change the message anyway, just because I can.

When Ren gets home, I'm going to tell him that Doc wants to make a diss track with him about Grian.

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] I wouldn't do it.

(Jimmy's voice is coming through a phone speaker)

[Jimmy] Martyn, I promise you, I'm quitting if you do it.

[Martyn] (laughing) Right, but I wouldn't do it.

(Movement is heard as Martyn starts to look for something.)

[Jimmy] (frustrated) No- but you're saying it like you are going to do it!

[Martyn] But I wouldn't though!

(something falls, making a 'thud' sound as it hits the floor)

[Jimmy] I can hear you rummaging through your things!

[Martyn] (wheezing) But I-

[Jimmy] If I walk into the archives tomorrow and you scare me with a stupid party popper again I promise you I will leave.

[Martyn] (wheezing) I just wouldn't though.

(another object falls)

[Jimmy] Martyn.

[Martyn] I wouldn't.

(something else falls. Martyn is probably doing it on purpose)

[Jimmy] STOP!

(Martyn laughs)

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] I think my favourite thing about Tim is that I could tell him anything and he'll think I'm messing with him. I told him today that I was looking into a case about a cult dedicated to darkness. His immediate response was:

(mocking) "That's not funny, Martyn, stop it!"

(Martyn laughs)

(a pause)

I’ve known him since we were kids, but Jimmy doesn’t know me enough to tell when I’m joking, I guess.

(static)

Ah, wait-

(a pause then a light knock on the door)

Come in!

(door opens)

[Ren] Hey dude, is there a reason your rent paperwork has a completely random name on it?

[Martyn] Oh, Martyn Littlewood isn't my legal name. It just sounds cooler.

[Ren] That checks out. I looked at the name on this thing and was like "who is this loser?" 

[Martyn] (laughing) I'm a different person now. My loser days are behind me.

[Ren] Well, thanks for letting me know, Phillip Watson.

[Martyn] Don't you dare!

(Ren laughs as he closes the door.)

[Martyn] If he starts calling me Phil, I swear to God-

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] That play Ren's been rehearsing, The Rise of the Red King–it's starting to grow on me. I remember helping him practice a little the day I moved in, but I'm forcing him to let me help more since I caught him rehearsing it on his own again.

He was in his room just repeating the lines quietly on his own. I imagine he was only holding back so as to not disturb me, but the unfortunate curse for the beautiful Archivist is I hear everything.

Which means I heard the awkward silence between each line he read out. So I took it upon myself to start responding, to fill that gap.

He said something like, "and as you know, every king must have a hand."

And I, charming as ever, poked my head in and said, "two is preferable, so you can hold things."

Then he continued, "I can think of no greater person than you." 

And the accent he chose for this character was like a mix between Scottish and Irish with like a bit of pirate. It was so bizarre. I'm doing the best I can to imitate it but I just can't do it like Ren. And I-

(door opens)

[Ren] Good afternoon, Martyn.

[Martyn] Good day, my liege.

[Ren] Martyn, will you do the honour of being the Hand of the King on this fine day?

[Martyn] Oh my word. Do I get a little pin badge?

[Ren] Definitely, dude.

When a kingdom is formed, loyalty must be proven. Later there will be a test for you. And if ye pass, it'll be ye and me to the end!

(Ren clears his throat and returns to speaking normally)

It's shopping, your test is grocery shopping. I'm heading out, did you want to come?

[Martyn] Only if you do that voice in public.

[Ren] You're insane, dude.

The King likes it. And you shall follow in his footsteps! Today, both our mettles will be tested.

[Martyn] Oh geez. I don't think my metal is very dense, so I'm gonna struggle.

[Ren] Alright, chat over. Let's get out of here, dude. But um- are you recording this?

[Martyn] Ah-! 3 years and I still always forget to turn these-

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] Good evening, my liege.

[Ren] Hand of the King. To what do I owe the pleasure?

[Martyn] The carrots, m'lord! It will be a bountiful harvest!

[Ren] Oh, dude! No way! Show me right this instant.

[Martyn] I took your teachings and successfully grew a small handful of carrots. Come see!

(a pair of footsteps then a sliding door being pushed out of the way)

(Sound of dirt shifting as a carrot is pulled from the soil)

Ta-da!

[Ren] (excited, high-pitched) Oh! Dude! Look at that!

[Martyn] That's right boss, fresh produce right here in our garden. They're a little small, but size isn't everything.

[Ren] Let's get these out of the ground and wash them. We could make a carrot cake with these!

[Martyn] This is why you're the boss. I would have never thought of that.

[Ren] (laughing) But what's a King without his loyal Hand?

[Click]

-

[Click]

(the recording starts while Martyn and Ren are in the middle of laughing)

(there's the sound of cake batter being aggressively stirred underlining the recording)

[Ren] Martyn, you're wasting batter!

[Martyn] You said to mix well!

[Ren] Dude! Not that well! You're getting cake giblets all over the kitchen! Stop it!

(Martyn and Ren laugh)

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Ren] (mocking) Statement of Ren Diggity Dog

I have no idea what you actually do at the archives, but I bet that's what you sound like.

[Martyn] Dude! What are you-

[Ren] Yes, I'd like to talk about my strange roommate-

[Martyn] Ren, don't even joke like that! Now give it here-

[Ren] You always use this to record me anyway. Why? Is it your personal audio diary?

[Martyn] No! That's not what that is!

[Ren] Then what is it?

[Martyn] How about you just hand it back and-

[Ren] (laughing) You're deflecting, dude! Oh, this is definitely a diary.

[Martyn] (laughing) Ren, give that-

[Click]

-

[Click]

(all sound is muffled as if through a wall)

[Scar] Knock knock!

[Ren] Scar-

[Scar] Ren! It's been a while!

Oh man, I missed this place. It's been, what? Four months since I last saw you?

(a pause, then Scar laughs)

As talkative as always.

How's your new roommate? I haven't seen the Archivist in ages! Is he good?

(a door opens and Scar's voice is no longer muffled) 

Oh wow. There's a lot of interesting stuff in here.

(Scar hums something as he thinks)

(he starts to rummage through Martyn's things)

Ah! There it is.

Ren, you won't miss these, right?

[Ren] No- No, you can have them.

[Scar] Wonderful. Pleasure doing business with you, Ren.

[Click]

-

[Click]

(extended silence)

[Martyn] I thought I could trust him...

(a pause)

(Martyn makes a frustrated sound and tosses the tape onto his bed)

(fading as he walks out) Ren, did you touch the thermostat again!?

[Click]

-

[Click]

(door opening)

(silence)

[Ren] Sorry, Martyn.

(Ren sniffs the air then he enters the room)

(extended sound of papers being rummaged through)

[Ren] There you are- erm, whatever you are.

Statement of Pearl Moon. Okay. I can work with that.

(a pause then footsteps approach)

[Ren] When did this turn on?

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] (whispering and panicked) Ren has been standing on the other side of my door for an hour now. Waiting...

I don't know what he wants. I know he's been taking Hunt statements, but I have no idea why. I can't even tell how far gone he is or why he's hunting m-

(a knock on the door)

(Martyn holds his breath)

(extended silence)

(distant footsteps as Ren walks away)

Yeah, fuck that. I'm not sleeping tonight.

[Click]

-

[Click]

(distant sounds of screaming, everything muffled as if through a wall)

(there's a collection of a dozen heavy footsteps all quickly getting further away along with the screaming)

(Ren and Martyn are also muffled through the wall)

(Ren is laughing, hysterical and manic)

[Martyn] Ren, get a hold of yourself!

(Ren continues to laugh)

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Martyn] Hang on, I'm just going to grab a few random statements then we can go!

[Ren] (distant) Take your time!

(sound of a small handful of papers being picked up)

[Martyn] It's going to be fine...

(Martyn takes in a deep breath)

(he releases his breath, quivering like he's cold)

(a pause)

Fuck...

[Click]

-

[Click]

[Ren] (whispering) Martyn passed out the moment his head hit the couch. The statements he read helped heal his wounds a little. They're still... bad, but at least he's sleeping through it.

Me, though? I think I'm going to be awake for a while.

So I'm trying what Martyn does. Talk complete nonsense into a tape just to turn thoughts into words. I had to grab his audio diary from his room since the one we had ran out of tape. I'm sure he won't mind this one time. Plus, I know he listens back through this one all the time and I...

I kind of want him to hear this.

I guess first, Martyn looks terrible. I'm staring at his filthy face right now from across the room. He's covered in dirt and his sweater is completely ruined. Although, I guess that's my fault. But he's been wearing that same sweater for months now. Good riddance, I say.

I'll find him a proper style when he's ready to go out again.

(Ren chuckles to himself then pauses)

Only if he wants to, of course.

(another pause)

I think... I think he's stuck with me now. After my... change, he said the hunt was over but... I know he only put it on hold. I can feel my blood waiting, itching for him to run so I can chase him down again. He said he wasn't going anywhere but...

[Martyn] (groggy and distant) Ren?

[Ren] Oh- Martyn. I'm sorry, did I wake you, my friend?

(movement as Ren gets up and walks towards Martyn)

[Martyn] No. I've been up this whole time. Listening.

[Ren] I didn't mean to keep you up, dude. My bad.

[Martyn] Can I have the tape?

(the recorder is passed to Martyn)

Ren, did you know the cold is typically an attribute of the Lonely?

[Ren] So what's your theory on the snow back at Dogwarts, then..?

[Martyn] My current theory is that you're too much of a social guy to be attracting the Lonely.

(a pause)

[Ren] Oh, Martyn...

[Martyn] I meant it, okay? I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you.

[Ren] It's you and me to the end.

[Martyn] Yeah. To the End.

[Click]

[pendragonsclotpole]

i finally discovered chappell roan and like, why is her work such fucking art??? she’s got me bopping to femininomenon, crying to california, and entering heaven with good luck babe. and none of those are even my favorite song!! i don’t think i have a favorite one just yet, mostly because i need another forty relistens to feel emotionally, psychologically, philosophically, economically, and like politically ready to rank these songs. her entire the rise and fall of a midwest princess album is full of such catchy and gut-wrenching lyrics with frankly fantastic production, phenomenal instrumentals, and ethereal vocals.

this album is the entire package. i hit play on that first song and i was blown away. this album isn’t just good, it’s one of those albums that’s instantly a classic. the songwriting is immaculate. i have no idea where she found the brilliance to sing certain verses the way she did, but i will forever scream along to “knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out, is it casual now” and the entirety of guilty pleasure is fucking femininomenal.

which, speaking of those two songs: her unabashed expression of her sexuality and the emotional complexities of her navigating those desires and relationships took me out for a moment and had me questioning my life because i don’t think i’ve ever listened to such an honest album that had also proven capable of mastering the juxtaposition of conveying some greater meaning of longing with the more base emotions of lust. it’s such a hard balance, that i feel so many albums never quite find, though never to their detriment.

you get albums that sonically and lyrically are on another level, but rarely venture into subjects of substance and meaning in the lyrics themselves because the overall sentiment can be found in how the music feels. not to denigrate those albums, because i believe good music is just good music and doesn’t need to be overanalyzed or imbued with some deeper meaning always, but they don’t capture the cathartic feeling that comes with singing along to the exact wording of certain lyrics or pulling up the lyrics to read them and what they represent.

it’s like some songs are meant to be felt, others are meant to be heard, and some are meant to be read, and a really good song sometimes gets all three.

chappell walks the line and spells out the desires she has for the subject of her music and imbues it with a cleverness and mastery of her passion in a way that replicates the feelings of agency that comes out on a song like my kink is karma or casual.

it’s like she’s saying, desire is desire and the way i feel basically lost in the desire for someone carnally or emotionally can be felt equally and respected unconditionally, fuck your propriety. it’s like she’s saying, i can write something that can be sung along with the windows down while i’m driving home on a hot summer night and it’s heads or tails whether i’ll end up crying by the end of it or starting a rave at a stoplight. it’s such an open demonstration of her sexuality in a way that’s not necessarily sexualized or put up to be exploited by others but instead for the expression of herself and any others who might relate? like yes, casual mentions a sexual act but at the same time, there’s something to be said about the emotion she sings that song with and how casually that line sneaks up on you so that i, a person who most likely is not her intended audience ended up singing along to “knee deep in the passenger seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?” like i’d probably still sing that line if the entire sone had the ambiance of a dance song meant to be played at 2am in a bar but it doesn’t. and there’s so much to be said about that and then the way that song ends, “i try to be that chill girl but i’m not actually that.” there’s that backbreaking need to be whatever makes everybody else comfortable and it seems like you do it casually, but it’s really just tearing you up inside.

idk maybe i misunderstood this entire album but frankly? it’s amazing and i’m replaying it.

ALSO SHE DRESSED UP LIKE MISS PIGGY??? goals. i stan. i love her.

[sarahwroteathing]

Drabble Request:

Sam, Cantankerous, Icicles

“I’m dying,” Sam announced loudly as he slammed the car door behind him. You frowned but couldn’t afford more than a quick glance as you hit the gas, taking to the icy streets at the highest speed you could manage. 

“Hospital dying or first aid kit dying?” Checking the mirrors told you nothing about any possible pursuit, but you hoped that the heavy snowfall would make you just as hard to follow. 

“I’m soaked to the skin; the muscles in my legs are all cramping from hiding out behind that damn warehouse for four hours; I’m so fucking freezing I think there’s an icicle hanging off my nose, and it was all for nothing.” 

“No one showed?” you asked as Sam cranked the heat up in the crappy little car until the vents started whistling. 

“No.”

You grimaced, taking a sharp turn that nearly slid you onto the sidewalk. The intel had been good. Promising. A real meeting of the creepy minds, people every last branch and shadowy division of law enforcement had been dying to get their hands on for years. You checked the mirrors again. 

“Have you heard from Bucky?”

“Not since we got there.”

You quickly plotted a new route in your head, one that would let you circle back to where Bucky’s borrowed car would hopefully not still be parked. 

“I’m just going to drive by and check,” you told Sam, reaching out to stabilize him with one arm as you took an even more aggressive turn. 

“I’m sure he’s fine. That asshole is probably back at the safehouse hoarding all the blankets and using all the firewood.”

You smiled a bit at the low, grumpy mumble but did your best to hide it. Sam hated being cold. He would have all the attitude of a napless toddler until he found a way to warm up again. 

“Then I’ll make him chop more. Promise. We’re coming up on the alley. Can you check for me?”

You flew by the mouth of the alley, barely slowing, but it was enough for Sam to see clear to the other side, unobstructed.

“He’s gone.” 

“Excellent. Hold on.”

Sam was unfazed by your reckless driving, bracing a hand against the door with a sullen but unpanicked expression. You’d never crashed before, and there was no reason to think today would be any different. This was one of the skills that brought you to the ragtag little team in the first place. 

Once you were safely away from the mission site and driving required much less of your focus, you turned some of your attention to Sam, still shivering and frowning in the passenger seat. 

“Glove box.”

Sam glanced at you for a second before reaching to open the compartment. A spare hat and pair of gloves were tucked inside with three hand warming packets. Without a second’s hesitation, Sam tossed his saturated gloves and hat into the back seat and donned the new ones, tucking an activated warming packet into each palm and shoving the third one down his sweater. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, still frowning a little but not quite so severely. 

“I’ve got you,” you said simply, reaching one hand off the wheel to poke at his, admittedly very cold, nose. “And see? No icicles.”

Sam didn’t answer, but the face he made was so close to a smile that you didn’t let up quite yet.

“I’m not above bribing you into a better mood, you know.” 

“Mission failure doesn’t bother you?”

“We’re all alive, and we all did our jobs perfectly. Whatever went wrong wasn’t on us. So no, it doesn’t bother me. We’ll get another opportunity.”

“Yeah…” 

“But before that happens, we get to go relax. In a home we don’t pay any bills for. With three fireplaces. And an extra box of blankets I smuggled into the trunk.”

Sam perked up a little, finally looking at you.

“And I gave Bucky very specific instructions on where to pick up food on his way back, so there should be lovely, warm takeout waiting for us.”

Some of the tension eased out of Sam’s shoulders, and his head lolled back against the seat.

“Keep talking.”

“You can change out of your wet clothes and into something cozy and soft. And you can take a warm shower before bed. And then fall asleep while I cuddle you with such single-minded focus that you’ll mistake me for a weighted blanket. Or I can be your big spoon. Whatever you want.”

“You’re not messing with me, are you?” Sam checked.

“I would never joke about cuddling. I take it very seriously.”

Sam snorted, winning a triumphant laugh from you. 

“So, do you think you can stay alive for a few more minutes?” you asked, reaching out blindly until he grabbed your hand.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

[jujumin-translates]

[18TRIP] Event Story | WE ARE M・T・T・B | TRACK. 4

Characters: 🫰 Chihiro Natsuyaki, ☁️ Ten Murakumo, 🌕 Muneuji Kaguya, ☀️ Renga Nishizono, 🎬 Akuta Isotake

Location: HAMA House - Kitchen

Ten: Ahh… Today’s finally over…

Ten: (It’s nice that practice itself wasn’t that tough, but… It’s still pretty tiring in its own way.)

Ten: (Well, but it’s better than performing ambushes or being solicited every day. Anyway, I’m thirsty.)

Ten: Hm?

Muneuji: Murakumo-san.

Ten: (Muneuji Kaguya…)

Ten: Ah~, hey. Good work~, G’night~.

Muneuji: Could you please wait a moment? I have something I’d like to ask you.

Ten: What’s up?

Muneuji: I would like to know how you feel about our dancing. As you’re an advanced-level dancer, I would like to hear your unreserved opinion, Murakumo-san.

Ten: (Hm~, I figured that’s what he was gonna ask me, but—.)

Ten: If you’re worrying about it, doesn’t that mean you already know what the cause is?

Muneuji: …

Ten: (Ah~, did I hit the nail on the head a little too hard there?)

Muneuji: I see… I suppose you could say that. I feel like I’ve just been struck to the core.

Muneuji: Your statement was very profound, Murakumo-san. It felt like something someone mature would say. Thank you for your very insightful words.

Ten: (Insightful words, huh… Well, that’s good enough, I guess.)

Ten: …No problem~. Keep up the good work~.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Tiger Room

*Door opens*

Ten: Goddamn.

Renga: Welcome back, Ten! I heard you’ve been practicing dance.

Ten: Thanks to that, I’ve racked up quite the number of contacts I’ve gotta return.

Ten: Hm?

*Crow caws*

Renga: The hell? What’s with that crow looking at me? No way, could it be a fan of mine…?

Ten: …

Ten: (Right, right. “It’s important to distinguish where your family position”. You don’t gotta send a messenger for me to get what you’re trying to say.)

Ten: Ugh, I wish we could just get the performance over and done with.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Dining Room

Chihiro: Hm~m…

Chihiro: (I feel like Munechi and the other two have been really distant from Chii lately, even during practice…)

Chihiro: (It won’t do anyone any good if things keep up like this~. I wish we could just talk a bit, but…)

Chihiro: …I came to the dining room, but… No one’s here~.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Kitchen

Chihiro: Huh~, no one’s here either… That totally sucks… I guess everyone went back to their rooms or something—, huh?

Chihiro: (The back door is slightly open. I wonder if someone’s getting some fresh air?)

Chihiro: Hm!?

Kitten: Mew.

Chihiro: Huh, baby meow-meow… You’re not with mama meow-meow today~?

Kitten: Meow, mrow.

Chihiro: Hehe, you seriously are too cute. …I wasn’t looking for anyone in particular, but seeing you makes me coming to the kitchen feel worth it ♪ 

Chihiro: Here, pspspsps~. If PT were here, you’d already have the perfect buddy to play with~.

Kitten: Mrrrow!

Chihiro: Ah…!

*Kitten swats at Chihiro*

Chihiro: Whoa…! Wait, that’s Turysuke! 

Kitten: Nyan!

Chihiro: C’mon~! That’s not a toy!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - Entrance

Ten: So I don’t wanna be asked to take responsibility~. Hellooo, did you get that? Are you crying?

Kitten: Mrow! 

Ten: Oh, what are you doing in here?

Chihiro: Tenchamu! Catch ‘em! 

Ten: Huh~? I’m kinda in the middle of a serious call right now…

Kitten: [Meow!]

Ten: Oops, looks like it got away.

Chihiro: Wait! Take some responsibility and chase after it with me, Tenchamu~!

Ten: What am I responsible for…? Well, whatever.

Ten: My bad. Something came up so I’m gonna have to let you go.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Location: HAMA House - 2F Corridor 

Akuta: Aghh~ I’m starving… I wonder if there’s any meals, or leftovers, or just plain rice left or something. I’d kill to have some meat right now too or something

Kitten: Nya! 

Akuta: Whoa, I know I said I’d kill for some meat, but that’s now what I meant! I’m against eating cats! 

Chihiro: Aata, catch that meow-meow~!!

Akuta: That’s NOT happening! I’m the kinda guy who likes to pet cats~!

Ten: The hell kinda weird misunderstanding are you having, Akuta?

Akuta: Cat! Run that way before they catch you~!

Kitten: [Nya~an!]

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Chihiro: Haah, haah… We’ve finally cornered you…!

Chihiro: You’re like a rat in a trap~! Except you’re a cat~! …Huh?

*Music plays*

Ten: …That song coming from inside sounds awfully familiar.

Chihiro: Wait, could that be our song…?

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