#it was an omelet but i'm counting it

[ockhamasylum]

Behold, a Man™ 2.0!

when the human 2.0 patch rolls out i think people with uvulas should lay eggs rather than keeping them up in there

[kaisacobra]

Calypso's Curse - Tara Carpenter

Summary: Tara was used to having bad things happen to her all the time. She was used to see people leave her life as if she meant nothing, but she never thought you would be one of those people, especially if she was the one who caused it.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, mentions of violence, angst

Word Count: 5.1k

Second part of Second Best

Tara had gotten used to waking up with the sunlight bothering her eyes and having a strong headache caused by the hangover. Like any other Saturday, she got up slowly and stretched with a grimace, proceeding to go through the rest of her morning routine.

Everything seemed to be as usual until she stepped out of the room and into the kitchen. There she felt the unusual heavy mood in her apartment, normally filled with life and multiple voices chatting animatedly. Something had happened the night before. Something was wrong.

Sam had her back turned, cooking something in a pot that smelled very good. Sitting at the table in front of the stove, their roommate Quinn was scrolling through her phone with no expression until she noticed Tara standing right in front of her. With a playful smile, the redhead lifted her head to face the girl.

"Good morning, roomie. Did you have fun yesterday? I heard it was a blast."

Tara noticed when her sister's back tensed upon hearing about her presence, but she still didn't take her eyes off the stove to even offer a greeting. Flashes from the previous night appeared behind the younger Carpenter's eyes, and she remembered some things, especially the part where Sam broke into the house and tased a guy.

If anyone should be annoyed, it should be me. She thought with irritation as she crossed her arms. Deciding to ignore Sam's apparent bad mood, Tara turned her gaze back to Quinn, who still had a look of amusement on her face, as if she knew something Tara didn't.

"It was great! Until someone ruined my fun." Tara replied with sarcasm in her voice, making a point to increase the volume of her speech so that Sam could hear it well.

Perhaps it was a bit unfair to be so rude to someone who only wanted to protect her, but Tara was fed up with feeling like she was in a prison while attending college in a city of endless possibilities. The girl didn't want to be stuck dwelling on the past, and what better way to keep her mind occupied than drinking and dancing with strangers until 5 in the morning?

Besides, she wasn't alone. She knew that y/n would never let anything bad happen to her. Tara was safe.

"Oh, I think you had more than enough fun." The older Carpenter finally turned around, carrying a plate of omelets and a judgmental tone. She placed the plate on the table in front of Tara, and the girl felt some of her anger dissolve with her sister's gesture. "You don't remember anything that happened?"

From the corner of her eye, the younger girl could see Quinn looking back and forth between the two sisters as if witnessing a tennis match. Tara sighed and finally sat at the table, picking up a fork to start her breakfast. "I remember you ruining the vibe by attacking some random guy."

"There's even a video!" Quinn added with a laugh, placing her phone on the glass surface of the table and showing the screen to the two girls. The video was an endless loop of the exact moment when Sam used the taser on the guy's groin, and he fell flat on the ground. The redhead lifted her head, expecting to see smiles on the faces of the two sisters like hers, but upon seeing Sam's stern expression, she quickly added, "But he deserved it, Tara. He was a jerk."

"No, no." The older Carpenter shook her head negatively, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter behind her, her face displaying a mix of irritation and sarcasm. "Apparently, Tara's idea of fun is to be harassed by a disgusting man. I'm so sorry for ruining your incredible plans to become a victim of some idiot."

The younger one huffed with irritation and aggressively stabbed a piece of the omelet with her fork. Deep down, she was grateful for what Sam had done, even though it might become gossip of the week at her college. But Tara was too proud to admit it. So, instead of thanking her sister, she rolled her eyes and started chewing on her breakfast. "Nothing serious was going to happen, okay? Y/n was there; you know she would never let me do something like that."

The already awkward atmosphere in the room seemed to chill even more. Sam straightened her back further, and her jaw clenched as she stared at her own feet. Quinn, notoriously known for not taking anything seriously, raised her eyebrows and looked at Tara like a deer caught in headlights. Something was definitely wrong.

"What?" The girl asked, trying to swallow the food in her mouth, pretending that her anxiety didn't weigh on her throat like a bowling ball.

"Tara, you were awful to y/n yesterday. Seriously, she left the party crying because you said some outrageous things." Sam sighed and ran her hand over her forehead as if she were exhausted. Her tone wasn't angry, but it was worse because it was the calm voice of someone so disappointed that they had given up. "Why do you do this? You know she loves you, so why do you hurt her like this?"

Tara's stomach twisted into a knot upon hearing what she had put you through last night. It was true that she wasn't the best friend, but she would never wish harm on you, especially if she were the one at fault.

"Are you sure about that? Are you sure you don't enjoy breaking her heart into pieces every time, and she brings you the shards, hoping you'll glue them back together?"

"Shut up." Tara silenced her intrusive thoughts and looked at Sam as if nothing were wrong with her. "We're friends. We argue sometimes, but it's normal. I'll talk to her today, and everything will be fine."

That statement sounded more like wishful thinking from Tara than anything else.

"I don't know, maybe you should call her to make sure," Quinn spoke again, this time looking at Tara with a kind of amusement. "Who knows, maybe she's tired of being your plaything?"

"Oh, because you know all about turning people into your playthings, don't you?" The younger Carpenter retorted angrily, grabbing her phone with a sudden need to prove the redhead wrong. She searched for your contact number and pressed the call button, muttering a curse at her roommate. "Fuck you, Quinn."

The call rang twice. The other two girls stared at Tara with curiosity as she held the phone close to her ear, silently pleading for you to answer soon so she could wipe that smug smile off Quinn's face.

"The number you called is currently unavailable."

Huh?

The girl looked at the screen with confusion on her face. That had never happened before. You always answered her calls, even the ones made at 4 in the morning. Could it be a signal problem?

She went to her text messages and started typing a message. It wouldn't be as instant as a call, but at least you would respond when you read it. Tara typed a simple message (are you up?) and pressed send, but...

The text was green. Why was it green?

"Oh... Maybe she blocked you, roomie." Quinn's voice made Tara jump a little. The girl was so stunned that she didn't even realize she had spoken aloud. She looked between Sam and Quinn, one with evident disappointment and the other with mild surprise.

"No! No, this..." Tara vehemently shook her head, gripping the edge of the table as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. "...This has to be a mistake!"

"Tara, I told you that you went too far-"

"NO! Okay, just... just no!" The girl interrupted Sam with a shout. Her breathing was erratic, and she suddenly felt dizzy. You always promised her that you would be here, always came back, no matter what happened. "I'll call Mindy, okay? They must be together, and y/n will explain that her phone broke or something. Everything's still fine."

With trembling hands, Tara searched for Mindy's name in the contacts list and pressed call as soon as she found it. Her feet were tapping on the floor at a frenetic pace, and she had to restrain her own hands to avoid biting her nails and showing even more of her anxiety in front of Sam and Quinn.

Tara knew that sometimes she pushed you too far, but she only did it because it was necessary, right? She wasn't like her intrusive thoughts suggested, she didn't truly wish you harm, right? She couldn't have hurt you that much, she just... couldn't.

"Tara, why the fuck are you calling?" Mindy questioned as soon as the call was answered, not waiting for any greeting beforehand. Her voice overflowed with impatience, which wasn't uncommon for her personality, but Tara felt surprised by how hostile the tone sounded.

"Shh. Speak quieter; Y/n just went to sleep." A whisper belonging to Anika was heard not far from the microphone. Mindy apologized, lowering the volume of her voice, but Tara had already heard enough to feel her heart racing.

"What do you mean, she just went to sleep? It's 9 am!" She spoke with concern, standing up from the chair she was sitting in, letting her restless feet carry her back and forth. "Is she sick? Does she need me to bring some medicine?"

On the other side of the table, Sam frowned in concern at what she was hearing. "Y/n is sick? Does she need anything?"

Tara gestured for her sister to wait with her free hand as she tried to calm herself. She could barely remember the last time you were sick, but she vividly remembered going to your house and seeing you lying in bed, looking like you’d been hit by a truck, loopy with fever. She was so young at the time that she had been terrified, thinking that her curse would finally catch up with you, and she would lose you to some stupid illness.

She remembered helping your mom make soup and feeling like the happiest girl in the world when she saw you eating it with great effort despite your sore throat, just because she had made it.

The curse didn't catch up with you, and Tara felt useful for the first time in her life.

"She's not sick; she just took a while to sleep because she was too busy crying her eyes out yesterday." Mindy retorted venomously. "What the hell is your problem, Tara? You destroyed her!"

"I-I didn't mean to... It wasn’t my intention to..."

"Wasn’t your intention?" Mindy interrupted the girl's stammer with an aggressive whisper. "You've been an asshole to her for years, and you still want to tell me you had no intention?!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know why..." Tara let the words come out of her mouth with effort, trying not to let the tears that threatened to fall escape. "I don't know why I'm like this; I just... Tell her I'm sorry."

Mindy scoffed mockingly. "Tell her yourself. And preferably, wait a week to do it because I don't think Y/n wants to see you anytime soon."

When the call ended, Tara could swear she heard her own heart crack. She looked at her hands, one still holding the phone, not knowing what to feel or what to do in the moment. Maybe in a few moments, everything would hit her like a tsunami. Anger, shame, panic, sadness, all directed at herself. But at that moment, she just felt nothing, as if a void had opened in her chest and gradually expanded, consuming her entire being.

Sam asked if you were sick again. Quinn wanted to know how you were feeling. Tara didn't answer any of the questions and ran as fast as she could to lock herself in her room.

_

It had been a week since Tara last saw you.

Your absence hit her like a train, but the girl was doing her best to respect your space since all this situation was her fault anyway. It was so strange not having you by her side, even as a silent presence, that she felt like an incomplete puzzle.

At least she knew you were okay, and that was enough to calm some of her nerves. Of course, psychologically, you weren't in the best place, but Mindy had assured Tara (after much insistence from the girl) that you were eating, sleeping well, and attending classes just like always, which made the younger Carpenter feel relieved for not ruining even more of your life.

The group of friends seemed to be under the custody of divorced parents. One day, Tara would meet Mindy and Anika for lunch, and they would talk civilly, even though the disapproval of the twin about her actions was evident. The next day, she would have lunch with Chad and Ethan, who tried to lighten the mood with silly jokes and sought Tara's opinion on "guy stuff."

She knew this rotation scheme was also happening with you, and Tara couldn't help but wonder how you were dealing with it. Did you talk about her when she wasn't around? Or maybe you were trying to erase any trace of Tara from your own mind?

Either way, in your absence, Tara had plenty of time to sink into her own pit of guilt, which gave her time to analyze her own actions. She didn't know how things had escalated to this point, but she knew exactly how they had started.

_

You were both 13, nearing the end of summer, and about to embark on the frightening world of high school. Tara remembers every detail of that day perfectly because it might have been the best day of her life. She recalls the two of you lying on her bed, the bedroom door closed to keep the cool air from the air conditioner from escaping into the hallway. Her mom wasn't home, as usual, but Tara couldn't remember the excuse this time.

Tara remembers seeing you laugh at some scene from Child's Play playing on TV while finishing your watermelon popsicle. She noticed that the sweet treat seemed to make your lips redder and more hydrated, and a question about their taste seemed to pound in her brain like a drum. She shook her head to shake that off, feeling her own face warm.

"What nonsense! Can't you just, like, kick that doll hard?" You were lying face down, but turned your head to flash a smile at Tara. She could barely comprehend your words, finding it more interesting to notice how your legs were stretched upward in the most adorable position and how your eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. You were clearly happy, and Tara was happy about that.

"It's the power of the script! I don't think you can defeat a possessed doll with just a kick." Tara answered your question, shrugging and looking at her own hands, where the remnants of a strawberry popsicle were. Anything to avoid looking at you and feeling whatever was happening in her chest.

A moment of silence settled for a few seconds, and Tara thought you had returned to watching the movie until she heard your voice again. "Was it good?"

She raised her head in confusion and looked at you with a frown, which was met with a thoughtful look from your side. "What do you mean?"

"The popsicle. I wanted to taste it, but I know strawberry is your favorite, and there was only one." You pouted, and, God, how Tara felt something inside her sway. Her gaze fixated on your lips for a few seconds, and all her thoughts turned into mush.

"You can taste it on my lips if you want."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

The girl closed her eyes and grimaced, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Damn her intrusive thoughts. "I-I was joking, sorry." She spoke next, trying not to make the situation even more awkward.

Still with her eyes closed, she felt the warm touch of your hand on her arm, and one side of the bed sank a bit closer than before. "No! It's fine. You know, it's not such a bad idea..."

"What?" Tara widened her eyes, unable to believe that she had actually heard that come out of your throat. She could see you clearly now, sitting cross-legged with both your thighs almost touching.

"I mean... All our friends have kissed someone." You started to argue, gesturing with your hands as you always did. "Chad has already kissed someone, Mindy even kissed a girl! I don't want to go to high school and be teased for being a bad kisser! At least this way, we both would have some experience!"

Tara felt her own head short-circuit. She couldn't even interpret what she was feeling with your suggestion, with sweaty palms, a rapidly beating heart, and a dry throat. Maybe she was just too scared by the idea of kissing someone.

Yeah. That makes sense.

"But we're friends. Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Of course not!" You countered with the energy of someone who clearly had thought about the answer to that question before. "It's even better! If we're bad, we can just tell each other and practice until we get it right!"

The young Carpenter's head was spinning just by thinking about kissing you not only once but multiple times. She couldn't stop staring at your lips, the question about their taste now seeming more urgent and necessary, like some kind of thirst.

Without trusting her own voice, let alone her self-control, Tara just nodded and hoped you understood the signal to take the initiative and get even closer.

Your mouth still carried the scent of the damn watermelon popsicle, but the fragrance of your subtle perfume also mixed and invaded Tara's senses with the force of a wave. She kept her hands close to her body, not knowing what to do with them as your faces got so close that your breaths collided.

When your lips finally met in the sweetest and gentlest kiss possible, Tara saw an explosion of colors behind her closed eyes, like fireworks. In fact, her whole body seemed to catch fire, and her chest could barely contain her heart. That was the first time Tara felt so... alive.

She understood everything now. She loved you. Fuck, she loved you.

Fuck. She loved you.

Tara immediately felt panic churn in her stomach, but she acted as if nothing had happened, just like you did. Inside, however, all her senses were on high alert for an imminent catastrophe.

She loved you, really loved you, and Tara knew you well enough to know after that kiss that you felt the same way about her. That was the problem. Tara wasn't made to be loved; she didn't deserve it.

You see, Tara felt like a myth she studied in one of her history classes, the myth of Calypso. A nymph who had been trapped on an island by the gods, and her eternal punishment was falling in love with people who could never be with her, causing a cycle of broken hearts and unrequited love for millennia.

Every time Tara loved too much and was reciprocated, the universe took someone away from her. It had happened with her father, with Sam, and more recently with her mother. She couldn't let it happen again; she couldn't lose you.

It was then, in desperation, that she stopped talking to you for a week, trying to make the feelings of at least one of you decrease until they completely vanished. But the days passed, and nothing changed. Tara still felt intense and conflicting emotions for you, and from the messages you sent, everything pointed to you feeling the same.

Avoiding you forever wouldn't work, and Tara missed you too much to simply cut you out of her life completely to avoid future suffering. She decided, then, that the best way to resolve this mess would be to get closer to other people, trying to force what she felt for you onto someone else.

She could lose anyone else, but not you.

A few weeks later, high school finally began, and she met Amber. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

Tara Carpenter might have many flaws, but one thing she had always been good at was reading people and their intentions. The moment she met Amber, Tara could identify that the girl was exactly what she needed: interesting, attractive, but fundamentally distant.

She knew it hurt you. The distancing, the increasingly scarce conversations, her sudden interest in someone else even after you had shared the best kiss of your lives. Tara didn't want to hurt you, not really, but it was necessary if it meant she could keep you in her life.

And Amber... Amber was perfect for the role. Tara always knew that the girl would never love her more than she loved herself, knew that she was the type to disappear for a few days without explanation, but always came back with a sly smile and lame excuses. Tara loved her because she would never love her enough to leave, she could love without fear, even if the feeling wasn't reciprocated with the same strength.

At the end of the day, what mattered was that the relationship made Tara suppress what she felt for you, so nothing bad would happen to your friendship, right?

You loved her. She loved Amber. No more Calypso's curse.

_

After replaying all these memories in her mind, Tara felt a desperate urge to laugh. Wasn't it at least a little funny that she had concocted this entire plan and included a psychopathic killer in her group of friends (which consumed her every day as she blamed herself for last year's attacks) only to end up losing you anyway in the end?

She shouldn't be laughing, but Tara didn't know if she had the capacity to control what she felt anymore.

It was expected that the halls of Blackmore University would be empty during that afternoon period. Normally, other students were attending elective classes, participating in clubs, or training in some sport to enrich their academic resumes. Tara, contrary to that, roamed the halls like a lost soul without direction, as if walking aimlessly would solve any of her problems.

But maybe this walk had indeed been a good idea, as she managed to see the exact moment when you came out of the campus counselor's office. She sighed when she saw you, looking carefree and definitely less miserable than she was. You even smiled, and even though the smile wasn't for her, just that sight made her heart beat excitedly and a sense of peace ran through her body.

At least, that was until the girl who was receiving your smile appeared in Tara's view.

She was... something. She had a confident posture that made her seem even taller than she was and a carefree expression on her face that was almost charming. The girl seemed well-off, dressed in clothes that seemed to be designer and a sports duffel bag hanging from her shoulders. She was... pretty, maybe? Tara didn't know why, but she was reluctant to give any compliments to that stranger.

Maybe because Tara didn't know her, but you spoke to her with the ease of someone who had known her for a lifetime. You were laughing together and maintaining eye contact in a way that, for some reason, bothered Tara. So, she let her impulsiveness take over and marched toward you without the slightest plan.

"Y/n? Hi!" She announced her presence, and something in her chest hurt when she noted the change from your previously happy expression to a closed one. "I haven't seen you in a while! I thought it was because you were sad and needed some time, but you're clearly better than I am!"

She didn't know why she had said those words in such a passive-aggressive tone. Tara knew she was in the wrong, but still, watching your interaction with this stranger made her blood boil. However, she felt shame for her own reaction when you looked at her with a disappointed expression.

“Seriously, Tara? Is that all you have to say?” You spoke, crossing your arms as if you needed protection. Tara couldn't help but notice how the icy tone in your voice was new and cut through her like a razor.

The blue-eyed girl next to you seemed to straighten even more, positioning herself a little closer to you as some sort of bodyguard. Ridiculous, if you asked Tara. "Is there a problem here?"

"And who are you?" The younger Carpenter asked, trying to control her own voice not to make you even more annoyed. The new girl didn't seem to care about the hostile atmosphere and flashed a confident smile, looking down at Tara in a way that she didn't know if it was intentional or not.

"I'm Kate. Kate Bishop. Maybe you've never seen me if you're the same age as y/n here." Kate made a point to touch your shoulder when mentioning you, and Tara felt like a tsunami of hatred was forming in her stomach. "I'm a junior, so we probably don't have the same classes."

"Speaking of classes..." The taller girl turned completely to you, as if Tara wasn't even present. "I have to go now, but I'll see you later, y/n?"

Tara watched begrudgingly as your face formed a small smile when addressing Kate. "Sure. See you later, Bishop."

You exchanged a hug that, again, in Tara's opinion, was a bit longer than it should have been. She watched as the so-called Kate Bishop walked away down the corridor, adjusting the sports bag on her shoulder and striding like a damn show-off model.

"If she's a junior and you're a freshman, how did you two meet?" Tara inquired, feeling protective of you. After all that had happened in the past, she thought she had a bit of a right to doubt people's intentions. That was the only reason she was so intrigued by your new companion, obviously.

You sighed tiredly, as if you already expected that kind of behavior from her. "We met in the counseling center line." You pointed to the counseling center door a few meters to your left. "I'm going to therapy sessions, you know? Not that you'll care."

Tara felt an immense guilt instantly. She could now see the dark bags under your eyes and a clear loss of the bright energy you normally carried with you. The girl wanted to cry and plead for forgiveness, but she knew that would only make you feel worse.

Maybe Tara, overall, would only make you feel worse.

"I'm sorry, okay? I know I said horrible things, and-"

"Apologies won't work now, Tara." You admitted, turning your gaze away. "It's not just about what you said; it's about how you've been acting for a long time. I shouldn't have to put up with this kind of thing."

"You're right, I know. I feel-"

"What? You feel sorry?" Tara was startled to hear your tone becoming more pained as you interrupted her. She had never heard anything like that come out of your mouth before, and she almost wished you were shouting in her face instead. "Tara, you can’t even give me an explanation for why you do this kind of thing to me? Do you find it amusing to make a fool out of me? Is it fun to hurt me and see me coming back to you like a fucking boomerang?"

"No! I just... I don't know why I do this." The shorter one confessed with a trembling voice. "I swear to you that I... You are one of the best people in my life, okay? And I know I don't do enough to deserve you, but I... I need you. I'll do anything, just... could you forgive me?"

She wasn't lying when she said she didn't know the reason for continuing to hurt you this way. She didn't know why it had been so easy to listen when Amber suggested that you might be Ghostface. God, she didn't even know why she kept bringing up Amber, even though she preferred to forget about everything Amber caused.

Perhaps Tara just felt the need to make you feel the same pain she felt inside, so that you would be intertwined even unconsciously.

"I don't know if I can, not now. I have to put myself first at least once in my life, Tara. I'm really sorry." Your eyes were still avoiding Carpenter's, avoiding her gaze like a plague. "But if what you say is true, and you don't know why you do this... Tara, you need help. Professional help. I can't be your therapist, let alone your punching bag."

The girl nodded slightly and bit her lower lip to keep from crying in front of you. With a remaining bit of willpower and a little courage, she lightly touched your hand, silently pleading for your attention. "If I do this... seek help, i mean. Will you forgive me? Please, I don't want to lose you because I'm an idiot."

You looked back at her, and Tara could almost see conflicting feelings swimming in your irises. Finally, something seemed to snap you out of a trance, and you gently squeezed Carpenter's hand, a small gesture of support. "I don't know, Tara. I hope so, but that's not up to me, you know."

When you took a step back, and your hands parted, Tara almost let out a sob from her throat, instantly missing the touch. You hesitated, as if you wanted to say something, but chose to shake your head and quickly wipe away a lone tear rolling down your cheek. "I hope you get better, Tara."

The girl watched helplessly as you walked away, clutching your own bag as if it would keep you grounded in reality. She hated herself for making you feel this way, hated herself for being a problem for everyone she loved.

Maybe there was never a curse on Tara. Maybe she was simply the curse in other people's lives.

She glanced at the door to her left and sighed resignedly. As immense as her pride was, and as much as she had avoided this moment until now, she had promised you that she would change, and she couldn't break another promise. She swallowed hard and let her legs guide her to the frosted glass door.

Tara read and reread the words on the door. Counseling Center. And with one final sigh, she entered.

[nanamis-bigtie]

morning after

↬ nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, kusakabe atsuya & gender neutral reader ↬ jjk masterlist // ao3 version

a/n: debuting post for the monday afterhours, yay! i'm really excited to start, especially with the topic that's been at the back of my head for a while. i love casual intimacy and i love giving touch starved men the oh moment of their life cw: suggestive themes, implied bottom reader word count: 2.3k

nanami

Nanami is not used to noise and smells in the kitchen so early in the morning. Such disruption of his routine would bother his mood under other circumstances—but now, with the soft sound of your bare feet at the other side of his apartment, it feels only right. Familiar, he would even say, despite the atmosphere of a special occasion lingering in the air.

When was the last time he made breakfast from scratch, he wonders when the door of his bathroom closes behind you. Normally, he would be still asleep at this hour; his alarm would go off in thirty minutes, he would take a necessarily short and cool shower, check emails in case of an emergency, and then head to the 7/11 on the corner, to eat a humble meal of a pre-made sandwich and a cup of coffee from the machine, maybe an onigiri too, if he felt particularly greedy. Today, he barely slept and rose with a crack of the dawn—yet he felt the most relaxed since what seems to be ages to him. He still had the taste of you lingering on his tongue after the night, and decided to savor it until the flavor of cooking he had to test on the way would eventually wash it away. Scratched marks on his shoulders and back stung when he leaned to check what he had in the fridge. His hips, unlearned of moves he had been using on you since you had devoured the takeaway dinner together, ached as he tiptoed to reach the rice cooker, left dusty on one of the highest shelves. His eyes kept the afterimage of your blissed out face over the selection of vegetables and spices he chose for this meal.

When was the last time he was so peaceful?

Nanami finishes cutting the fresh cucumber and tsukemono, pours water into mugs with instant miso soup inside, and finally checks on the rice. It's warm and fluffy, just waiting to be put into the bowls he prepared—the cutest he had, with a long-tailed tit pattern. He brought them from Hokkaido and didn't use them even once, until he spotted them today and decided you would love them.

Rice has to wait; he can't let it grow cold like the sheets you two left behind are undeniably growing. First, he checks on the piece of salmon—a luxury that waited for a day when he could cook again—getting ready in the oven, then cracks a few eggs and beats them well with a pinch of salt and pepper. His stomach growls when they hiss on the red-hot pan—and he can't help but wonder if you're as hungry as him. Things you had in your mouth through the night couldn't feed you, as your corny, vulgar jokes suggested. Nanami rarely smiles but the memory of them and the startled look you gave him as you worried if you hadn't been too much for him has him grinning for a short moment.

When was the last time he felt strain in the corners of his lips?

The omelet is ready in no time. Nanami knows how you like your eggs, but he can't remember how and when he learned about it. He's sipped many details like this from your lips, through the whole year of waiting for the day you crossed the threshold of his bedroom. He was feeding on crumbs for so long... Being full out of the sudden fills his heart with content and anxiety at the same time. He wants to savor this moment, afraid to stomp on the thin shell of happiness too strong, but he knows he's already too addicted to stop. Whatever happens, happens.

And the food can wait only as long. He can't feed you a cold meal.

The hum of the shower ceases shortly after he takes the salmon out of the oven. Nanami listens to the commotion in the bathroom while he finishes the last cuts. Bowls are filled with steaming rice, plates and mugs find their right place on the table. He hasn't cleaned the kitchen—but even if he could do it quickly before you join him, he can't bring himself to disturb this disarray. It looks—it feels—so good to have his place messy at least once, at least today, at least for the first hour you spend together after the night of passionate lovemaking.

His hands still remember the shape of your hips, he realizes when you appear at the entrance, fresh yet still sleepy—and smiling bright at the sight of him by the table.

Nanami doesn't want to ever forget it.

higuruma

Out of the first mornings Higuruma experienced, this one is not the most...extraordinary. But he definitely would place it somewhere at the top of the list.

Seated on the edge of the bathtub, head leaned down, he still feels drowsy. The night was deliciously long and so worth the lingering fatigue in his muscles. He hasn't worked that hard in a while—well, physically at least—and he's undeniably going to pay the price with the top soreness of the last decade. He's more than okay with it...as long as you're not going to ask him for the repetition within the next few days. He's crazy for you—but he's not twenty anymore, and his job squeezes much more energy from him than he would have sacrificed, if he had any choice in this matter. 

Speaking of squeezing—he barely managed to find time to bring you home, for dinner and a movie you didn't even start watching, hungry for something else than a story. And he did so only by nipping time off somewhere else—and by paying the carrying charge now, in his bathroom, awaiting the blind judgment of your skill...or the lack of it, to be honest. He has no idea if you've ever done a haircut before.

But you seem at least familiar with it enough to know how to hold and turn the hair clipper around. Higuruma watches you from the corner of his eye: you're right behind him, scrunching your nose as you're studying the shape of the device and options the various buttons provided. Bare-chested, wearing your pajama shorts only, you secure the towel wrapped around your head with the other hand. It's on the verge of falling apart, some of your hair already got out. He feels an urge to get up and help you tuck it where it should stay but just thinking about feeling it pushes blood where he really doesn't want it, if he wants to leave for work on time. He had his share of touch a few hours ago, stroking and playing with your locks as you had your sweet lips wrapped around his cock.

He's ruined the position when trying to take a better look, so you gently nudge him to lean fully again, a brush of your warm palm enough to have hair on his forearms standing. He had your hands all over him for hours, pulling him close, securing him next to you when you both finally collapsed into well-deserved sleep, so he could swear he's learned your touch enough. 

But now...it's different.

You run fingers through the hair at the back of his head, testing the line you want to cut—and Higuruma is melting. He has to clench hands on the edge of the bathtub to stay collected; the last thing he wants is to get scolded and deprived of your digits slowly threading through his locks. You mumble something about being jealous of how thick they are and something about how badly he needs this cut—but all he can think of is how your voice is so raspy after moaning out his name over and over again. He wonders how your mewls would sound with this tone but thoughts evaporate from his head as soon as they've appeared, this time with the steady buzz of the clipper.

So the sound can be ticklish, such a weird sensation...

You're quick and as precise as only you can be at six in the morning, scrunched over his back in a rather tight space. You cut his hair just enough to keep him somewhat tidy for the few days before he can see an actual hair stylist; there's no time for more and Higuruma doesn't want to make it too much of a struggle for you. Even if it was his own request, he immediately regrets it when you're finished with brushing the cut dust off his neck and shoulders. It's such a pity you have to abandon him and rush with your own preparations. If only you had more time...

Right as he's straightening his back, you touch him with both hands, fingertips scratching lightly at the freshly shaved part of his head, right at the point where it meets his neck. Warmth explodes in his chest—and Higuruma lets out a low, needy growl. It's good, so good, oh gods, just touch him more, just do it one more time, he hasn't had anything like this for so long...

Humming, you move towards the longer strands, then down the sides of his face until you're cradling it between your palms. You tilt his head back and pull him close, until he rests it against your exposed, warm belly. Dry sob shakes his whole body and tears prick at the corners of his eyes—but Higuruma can't bring himself to close them or at least to look away. He's begging for your attention like starved and he's not ashamed.

All he wants is for you to never let go of him.

kusakabe

Holy shit.

Kusakabe didn't get a wink of sleep through the whole night—and the fact that he doesn't have anything to do for the day to come doesn't help the case. He always had problems with falling asleep after sex, but he thought the long break since the last time and, well, the overall busy period in his life would crumble this irritating habit by sheer force of exhaustion. He's as good at taking an accurate measure when it comes to love as he is with dozing off, it seems.

You're sprawled by his side, lying face down and on his arm, butt-naked with the exception of the blanket loosely wrapped around your leg and covering half of your ass. You've taken his share of sleep since you collapsed as soon as he rolled to his side and reached for wipes to clean you both, much to his amusement—and horror once he realized he was sentenced to his thoughts alone for the hours to come. Your smell, soft, twangy breathing, and warmth is just helping them race now. Your weight, pressed tight from his wrist to shoulder, keeps him in place too, cutting any attempt of shameful retreat short. It's nothing he wouldn't be able to move, he's carried you around not once and not twice and it meant nothing to his strength, but he dreads to wake you up.

You deserve that rest after taking his pent up tension over and over again. And he really has no idea what to say to sound appropriate.

Good morning? Good job? Did you sleep well? I love you?

Kusakabe groans and does another trip around the room with his eyes only. The more light sips through the loosely drawn curtains, the more details he could pick up, and shame already pricks at his cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he cleaned around properly but even if he had it squeaky clean for the night, the area just screamed: a confirmed bachelor. Well, at least there's no trash lying on the floor or furniture, but he could easily pick up the smell of cigarettes and a badly aired room. None of it mattered when you tussled in darkness, sucking sloppy kisses from each other's lips and peeling clothes off your bodies. But once you wake up and take a look around—Nope, he doesn't want to think about it. That's a problem for Kusakabe from in-a-few-hours-future.

He rolls head to the other side, ashamed to even look at your sound asleep body, and stares right at his shirt, casually thrown over the bed stand. He doesn't have to look at it to know it definitely has its best days behind it. He could at least wear something presentable when seeing you for that unplanned job, hasn't he learned anything from his past relationships? Maybe he did, but it was so long ago he wasn't sure anymore if his sloppiness was ever addressed. His chain-smoking, however, is a different story.

Holy shit, he really needs to smoke.

Kusakabe knows there's a spare cigarette and a small pack of matches hidden in the little pocket of his shirt, this very shirt within his reach. Carefully, he scoots to the side and reaches for it, fingers already brushing the sleeve, just an inch more, just a little...

You mumble his name and shift, sheets rustling around your legs. Kusakabe freezes, sure he's finally done it and woke you up, but you just adjust your position, face turned to him, and continue with your softest snores. You're all messy and exhausted, in need of a shower even more than his room is in need of tidying. With amused relief pushing his worries out of his mind, he reaches out and gently strokes your hair.

You repeat his name, with a mewl dangerously close to what you screamed into his ear a few hours ago.

Out of the sudden, the thought of smoking by your side has him disgusted. You're going to wake up to this mess, to crumbled sheets and clothes all over the place and dying plants and papers lying on the floor in piles—and he wants to add smoke right into your eyes? You deserve better than that. You deserve him to be better than that.

Hell, he's been thinking about it for a while anyway. Maybe if he remembers your face from now, so calm and smiling through your dreams, it will be easier for him to finally quit.

thank you so much for reading ❤ i'll be really happy, if you reblog it and/or leave some feedback! you can read more of my jjk fics here.

tag list: @lale-txt @mirkaaaluv @ohnococo @clumsyraccoon @honey-deku

[dunmeshistash]

Dungeon Meshi - "Dungeon Meals" from volumes 1 to 4

More info under the cut

Decided to compile the dungeon meals anyway. These are from chapter 1 to 28 (Volumes 1 to 4)

There were a total of 24 "meals" (counting the special panels) in the 28 chapters. Meal is anything that gets the named panel, so kelpie soap giant frog suit and Falin skeleton count (cause that's funny). I'm using EHScans pages because they have a better resolution usually (and for consistency)

Anyway here's the meals of each chapter and who made them.

Chapter 1 - Hot pot Meal: Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom Hot Pot Cooked by: Mostly Senshi but Laios started it.

Chapter 2 - Tart Meal: Man-Eating Plant Tart Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 3 - Roast Basilisk Meal: Roast Basilisk Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 4 - Omelet Meal: Mandrake & Basilisk Omelet Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 5 - Kakiage Meal: Mandrake Kakiage & Giant Bat Tempura Cooked by: Senshi and Chilchuck

Chapter 7 - Living Armor II Meal: Living Armor Full Course Meal, consisting of: Dwarf-Style Stir Fry, Steamed Living Armor, Living Armor Soup and Grilled Living Armor Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)

Chapter 8 - Simmered Cabbage Meal: Vegetable Lunch, Fresh off the Golem Fields, consisting of: Simmered Whole Cabbage and Turnip Salad. Cooked by: Senshi (Others helped with prepping)

Chapter 9 - Orcs Meal: Stolen Vegetables, Simmed Cabbage & Chicken with a side of Plundered Bread Cooked by: Senshi, Marcille, Laios, Chilchuck, Zon and other Orc Ladies

Chapter 10 - Snacks Meal: All Natural♡Delicious Treasure Bug Snacks, consisting of: Treasure Bug Nest Jam, Coin Bug Crackers and Pearl Centipede Skewers Cooked by: Senshi (Laios helped by.. watching)

Chapter 11 - Sorbet Meal 1: Deluxe♪Multicultural Holy Water Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Protective Ward! Spirit Dispelling Sorbet Cooked by: Senshi and Laios

Chapter 12 - Palace Cuisine Meal: Palace Cuisine Full Course Meal, consisting of: Sautéed Fish with Soybeans, Pumpkin Soup, Fruit, Golden Wheat Bread, Golden cow Cheese and Roast Duck Cooked by: Palace Cooks? Painter? Magic?

Chapter 13 - Boiled in Salt Water Meal: Boiled Mimic Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 14 - Kelpie "Meal": Kelpie Tallow Soap Cooked by: Marcille

Chapter 15 - Porridge Meal: Zosui Made from Dropped Barley Cooked by: Laios

Chapter 16 - Broiled with Sauce Meal: Giant Parasite from Giant Kraken: Grilled Plain and Kabayaki Style Cooked by: Senshi (Laios Helped with prepping the skewers and ate one raw and suffered)

Chapter 18 - Grilled Meat Meal: Grilled Kelpie Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 19 - Tentacles "Meal": Tentacles With Vinegar Dressing Cooked by: Namari (with Laios instructions)

Chapter 20 - Stew Meal: Tentacle & Kelpie Stewed in an Undine Cooked by: Marcille (With Senshi's help)

Chapter 21 - Giant Frogs Meal 1: Tentacle Gnocchi Cooked by: Senshi Meal 2: Frog Suit Cooked by: Laios and Chilchuck

Chapter 23 - Red Dragon I Meal: Let's Cutlet the Dragon to Pieces! Cooked by: Senshi

Chapter 27 - Red Dragon V "Meal": Falin & Warg Skelletons Cooked by: Laios & Marcille (Red Dragon helped clean up the bones really well)

Chapter 28 - Red Dragon VI Meals: Roast Red Dragon, Pizza Bread with Onions and Dragontail Soup Cooked by: Senshi

The chapters that had no "meal is done" panel were chapters

6 - Living Armor I

17 - Raspberries

22 - Above Ground

24 - Red Dragon II

25 - Red Dragon III

26 - Red Dragon IV

Mostly the multipart chapters, there was food eaten in 17 and 22 but no special panel for them, 17 is the titular raspberries and 22 the barmaids serve them a meal they eat right at the end

The chapter with more than one "meal" panels (not more than one meal prepared just more than one special panel for the meals) were:

11 - Sorbet with Holy Water and Sorbet

21 - Giant Frog with Gnocchi and Frog Suit

And the party stats are:

Senshi: 17 meals cooked, all of them food

Chilchuck: 3 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was a Frog Suit

Marcille: 4 "meals" cooked, 2 of them were food, 1 of them was soap and 1 of them was Falin skeleton reconstruction. She made the soap by herself and the stew mostly by herself

Laios: 5 "meals" cooked , 3 of them were food, 1 of them was a frog suit and 1 was Falin skeleton reconstruction. He also helped with 4 other meals (kinda) and 1 of them he made by himself (The zosui)

Out of the 24 meals in these 4 volumes, 21 were food and 3 were "other"

Out the 21 food meals Senshi made 17 of them, Laios made 1 Marcille made 1 and the other 2 was Namari and Living Painting Cooks.

I often get confused with numbers so if I said anything wrong feel free to correct me! Might do less volumes for the next post we'll see

[soldat-buck]

i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons: Companion Edition

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Absolute Edition

[lemoncrushh]

Anniversary Pancakes

Summary: Harry and his daughter make breakfast for his wife on their anniversary

Warnings: None, cutesy family fluff (very small mention of sex at the beginning)

Word Count: 1264

A/N: From my 2016 collection, this is written from Harry's POV.

I was in love with her. After six blissful years of marriage, I was still as much in love with her as I'd been the day we said "I do."

I woke up before she did, thinking about the night we'd shared. I'd made love to her three times, each time bringing her to the brink as she called out my name. Then we'd laid in each other's arms, whispering sweet nothings, exchanging confirmations of our everlasting love. The sun was just starting to rise, a blueish glow streaming through the curtains. I laid in bed watching her for a good ten minutes, her chest rising and falling as puffs of breaths escaped her lips. She was so beautiful, it took all the strength I had not to wake her up with a gentle kiss. But I wanted to let her sleep. Today was our anniversary, and I had plans.

I sauntered into the kitchen squinting my eyes when I flipped the switch, light illuminating the granite countertops. I started the coffee brewing, knowing that's the first thing my love likes when she wakes up. Opening the refrigerator, I pulled out the eggs, milk, cheese, spinach and bacon. I'd just finished whisking the eggs in a bowl when I heard the pitter patter of little feet on the hardwood floor.

"Morning, Daddy," my little girl said softly as she appeared around the corner, her tiny fist rubbing her eye.

"Morning, princess, what are you doin' up so early?"

She merely shrugged before reaching her arms out to me for a hug. I set the bowl down on the counter and lifted her into my arms, giving her a kiss on her forehead.

"Whatcha makin'?" she asked me.

"An omelet," I replied. "For your mum."

"What's a omnet?"

I giggled as her mispronunciation. "Omelet. It's eggs with stuff in it."

My daughter made a face, showing me she did not approve. I shook my head and set her down on the nearby stool to watch me. I got the first pan ready for the bacon.

"Daddy, I'm hungry," I heard behind me as the bacon started to sizzle.

"What would you like to eat, love?"

"Pancakes."

I chuckled. "I don't think I know how to make those all by myself. Can you help me?"

"Uh huh!"

I flipped the bacon over before turning to my little girl.

"Will you get me a bowl from under there?" I pointed to the cabinet next to her.

"Okay."

She hopped off her stool, eagerly searching for the bowl she knew her mum had used to made pancakes in before. When she came up with it in her little hands, a satisfied grin on her face, she handed it to me.

"Here you go, Daddy."

"Alright monkey," I said. "First I need some flour. Do you know where that is?"

Her little arm immediately shot out across the counter, her finger pointing to a canister.

"In there?" I raised a brow, teasing her. "You sure?"

"Uh huh," she nodded. "The big one is flour."

I grabbed the large canister and lifted the lid, widening my eyes.

"What do ya know! There's flour in here!"

My daughter giggled, covering her mouth. I winked at her, dropping some of the flour into the bowl. Then I added baking powder, salt and sugar.

"Will you stir that for me while I grab this bacon off the fire?"

I lifted her back to her stool, handing her a big spoon. I removed the bacon from the stove while she stirred.

"Good job," I remarked. "Now we get to add the egg."

"Can I do it?" she pleaded.

"Uh...how 'bout we add it together."

"'kay."

I cracked the egg gently as I covered her hand that held it, opening it with precision, careful not to get any shells in the bowl.

"What am I missing?" I narrowed my eyes, putting my finger to my chin.

My little girl shifted her eyes back and forth before giving me a big shrug, her hands in the air.

"Butter!" I exclaimed.

I quickly grabbed some from the fridge, warming it in the microwave to melt. I let the little one pour it into the bowl while I started heating the griddle. Then grabbing the whisk once again, I handed it to her.

"I like the whisk," she commented, her S held out longer than the other letters. I smiled as I watched her move it around the bowl.

"Here, bug," I said, covering her hand again, showing her how to whisk the ingredients.

Her wee little tongue poked out of the side of her mouth in concentration. I brushed her hair back with my other hand, kissing the side of her face. God, I loved my family.

"Alright," I chimed. "Time for pouring."

My daughter watched as I poured the pancake mix onto the griddle. While I waited for it to bubble, I poured my previously prepared egg mixture into the second pan to make my wife's omelet.

I'd just folded the eggs and had made two good pancakes when I heard a little voice say cheer "Mommy!"

"Hi, precious," she said, her voice still groggy from sleep.

Our little girl hopped off the stool once again to wrap her arms around her mum.

"What's all this?" my love inquired, lifted her head to look at me.

"We made breakfast!" our daughter danced.

"You did?" Her eyes were locked on mine.

I grinned at her sheepishly, setting down the spatula. Then I pulled her to me, planting a soft kiss to her lips.

"Happy Anniversary," I murmured against her mouth.

She leaned her forehead against mine. "I love you."

"I love you more."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, monkey?" I asked, even though my eyes were still on my wife.

"What's a ammivassy?"

I grinned. "It means your mum and I love each other a whole lot. And today is the day we celebrate."

My beautiful woman's face beamed back at me as I took it in my hands, kissing her once again.

"Harry..." she said when she broke the kiss.

"Yeah?" I asked, my lips pressed to her jaw.

"Something's burning."

"Shit!" I exclaimed.

I tore away from her to remove the scorched pancake from the griddle. As I cursed under my breath, I heard her chuckle behind me. Luckily, it was only one pancake. And I was able to save her omelet. I felt her hand on my back as I poured more of the mix.

"This is wonderful," she whispered in my ear. "You're wonderful."

Her arms wound around my waist as she rested her head on my back. Then she kissed my neck before backing away. I winked at her as she poured herself a cup of coffee, adding the creamer she liked.

"C'mon, precious, let's go sit at the table so we can have this delicious breakfast you and Daddy made."

I slipped an omelet onto a plate along with bacon, setting it in front of her. Then I gave my little girl her stack of pancakes, covered in syrup before making a plate for myself. I ate with my gorgeous ladies, another morning of complete joy.

My wife smiled at me as she ate, a look on her face that told me something else was on her mind. Perhaps she woke up thinking about last night too.

"I love you," she mouthed silently.

I was about to declare my love in return when my little girl spoke.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, love?" I turned to her, giving her my undivided attention.

"When is our ammivassy?"

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[shinskichan]

synopsis: It was just a normal day with the person you love when suddenly your sister calls asking for a favor to take care of her son, and there he is, Mikey, getting jealous over a kid.

pairing: Mikey x Fem!Reader

notes: pure fluff and kind of crack?

word count: 4k+

You slowly opened your eyes when the sun started to hit your face, savoring the feeling of warmth spreading over you. It was another peaceful day to start off, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it. Beside you lies the sleepy-head Mikey, who is still in his deep slumber, his hands wrapped tightly around your waist. You carefully removed his hands, not wanting to disturb his rest.

As you got up, you slowly stretched your arms, feeling your own muscles wake up from their sleep. You went to the bathroom to wash your face, splashing cool water on your cheeks to wake you up fully. Feeling refreshed, you headed straight to the kitchen, wondering what you could prepare for the both of you for breakfast.

The fridge was stocked with eggs, cheese, and bacon, so you just decided to whip up some omelets. You start with a fluffy omelet that is cooked to perfection, ensuring that the eggs are light and airy. Next, you fry up some crispy bacon until it's golden and delicious. For the protein, you prepare sunny-side-up eggs, which are not only visually appealing but also pack a punch of nutrients. You also add some hotdogs to the mix for an added burst of flavor. Finally, no breakfast is complete without some fried rice.

While you were in the kitchen preparing these delicious dishes, you made sure to get out your nicest glass plates and silverware to make the meal feel special. You wanted everything to be perfect before Manjiro woke up. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and you wanted to make sure that he had a delicious and satisfying start to his morning.

As you were putting the final touches on the meal, you suddenly felt a pair of warm hands wrap around you. It was none other than Manjiro who had woken up and come to see what you were making. He leaned in and kissed your neck. "Good morning, love," he said, as he rested his chin on your shoulders. "Rise and shine, sleepy head." You greeted him back with a smile and a yawn, still feeling a bit groggy from your sleep. He took your hand and led you to the dining area, where an array of delicious foods were prepared.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to wake up early to help you prepare breakfast like I promised last night," he said with a disappointed look on his face. You playfully ruffled his hair and gave him a reassuring smile. “Don't worry about it. We can always make breakfast together another time," You replied as you both sat down in the chair and enjoyed the delicious food in front of you.

The aroma of the perfectly cooked fried rice, mixed with the smoky flavor of the sizzling bacon and the bright yellow yolk of the sunny side up eggs, is so enticing that it immediately triggers your taste buds, making your mouths water in anticipation of the delicious meal that is about to be served.

Before you could even take another spoonful of food, your phone began to ring, and you quickly got it to answer. "Hello?" you said on another line. "Hey y/n, are you busy today?" your older sister asked. You saw Mikey's head look up at you, wondering who you were talking to. "Not really, why? Something came up?" You asked. "Could you take care of Leo for today? I'm having an important thing to do, and it would be such a pain to bring him with me," she asked in a worried tone. "Sure, no problem; it's been a while since the last time I visited him," You said as you smiled widely and put your gaze on Mikey, who was now frowning while he was eating.

Leo has always held a special place in your heart. Unfortunately, due to the demands of your busy life, you haven't been able to see him as often as you would like. So you can't imagine your surprise when your sister called you up out of the blue, asking for a favor. "I'm really hesitant to ask because I know you've been busy lately,” she said, her voice tinged with anxiety. "It's alright; don't worry about it," you said in a reassuring tone. “I know he would love to spend some time with you," she said. "Should I come and pick him up?" you asked. "No, no, I'll just drop him off at your place. He's still sleeping," your sister replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Alright then, I'll just wait for you both here," you said, and she agreed and hung up the phone.

You put your phone down on the table and started to eat your precious breakfast. "Why are you frowning like that?" you asked with a chuckle. "Who's this guy you haven't visited in a while? And what do you mean you're going to wait for them to arrive?” he asked, perplexed. You giggled at his inquisitiveness and replied, "It's my nephew, dumbass, you said as you playfully pinched his nose, causing him to turn his head to avoid further pinches.

"What about it?" he inquired while taking a spoonful of food. "My sister asked me to take care of Leo for today because she has a lot on her plate. It's hard for her to take him to work, you know," you explained, and he nodded in understanding. "Is it the nephew you were talking about that you're super close with?"He asked, and you nodded in agreement.

You felt excited at the thought of introducing him to Leo, your nephew, whom you had mentioned so many times before. "You'll finally meet him; after all these times, I haven't introduced you to my nephew," you said as you chuckled. "Yeah, I met everyone in your family but not your nephew," he said as he giggled. "Just so you know, Leo can be a bit clingy sometimes, because he views me as his second mother,” you warned him, as you didn't want him to be caught off guard by Leo's actions later on. "What exactly do you mean?" he asked, looking a bit confused. You couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he looked. "Never mind,” You said as you took another bite of your food. He continued to look perplexed, clearly still wondering what you meant. Given Mikey's childlike behavior, you have a feeling that Leo might get on his nerves. The thought alone made you laugh out loud.

MOMENTS LATER

You were just hanging out in the living room, watching his favourite cartoons. His head was on your lap while you were stroking his soft blond hair. It was a beautiful day outside, with the sun shining brightly and casting its warm rays through the window. You couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment and for this quiet time spent with him. You thought about how lucky you were to have him and how much joy he brought into your life.

As you both watched the cartoons together, you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. It's days like this, without the stress of work or other obligations, that you truly cherish. Even without special occasions or events, just a normal day spent with the love of your life will always be your comfort.

"I'm sleepy," he murmured as he turned himself towards you and wrapped his arm around your waist. "You're always sleepy," you said, chuckling. "Mind giving me a cuddle?" he asked softly, and you smiled. You cuddled together, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, interrupting your sweet moment. You saw him slightly frown because of the sudden interruption. You stood up to open the door. "Auntie!" Leo exclaimed with a big smile on his face. "Leoooo!" you called out to your nephew in an affectionate tone. Your arms were extended wide for a hug. Leo, with his cute little arms, wrapped them around your neck and did the same with his feet, making him cling to you tightly. You gave him a warm and loving hug as you looked over at your sister.

"It's been too long, y/n," your sister said, and you nodded in agreement. You welcomed her into the house and put Leo down for a brief moment. "Oh, Mikey's here!" your sister exclaimed as she spotted Mikey walking towards your position. You smiled at his arrival, feeling grateful for his presence and the additional company. "Hey, it's been a while. Take a seat," Mikey said warmly as he greeted your sister.

She shook her head and declined, saying, "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer; I have some important things to attend to. Please take care of Leo for me," she said, and you quickly nodded as you held Leo's hand. "Of course," you replied with a smile. "Thank you, my little sister; you're the best," she said, hugging you tightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't catch up with the both of you. Maybe later when I'm done with these important things," she added, casting a glance at both you and Mikey. "Absolutely, no worries," Mikey said, smiling briefly. You couldn't help but smile too, feeling a flutter in your chest whenever you saw him smile like that.

"Well, I think it's time for me to go," she said, glancing down at Leo, who was staring up at her. "Please do your best to behave for your uncle and auntie while I'm away. I'll come back soon, I promise." She affectionately patted Leo's head, who nodded back at her. "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll be a well-behaved boy. Take care!" Leo exclaimed, wrapping his little arms around his mother in a tender embrace. "I'm glad to hear that, my love. I'll see you soon," your sister said, giving you a warm smile before saying her final goodbyes and departing.

When his mom disappeared from your sight, he quickly hid himself behind you, holding onto the edge of your shirt tightly. He seemed a little scared and anxious, so you tried to comfort him by reassuring him that everything was going to be alright.

"Who's that guy, auntie?" he asked, his voice trembling a little. "He looked like a bad guy." You held him closer and told him that the man's name was Mikey and that he wasn't a bad person. Leo seemed a little skeptical. "Hey kid, I'm not as bad as you think I am," Mikey said bluntly, trying to ease Leo's fears. You could see the surprise on Leo's face, and you couldn't help but chuckle at the situation.

"I don't like him!" Leo whined, clearly upset. Mikey, however, wasn't about to back down. "I don't like you either; stop holding my y/n," he said, bickering with Leo. "No! She's my auntie; go away, blond guy! You're bad," Leo said, revealing his true feelings about Mikey. Mikey couldn't resist teasing Leo a little. "Look who's talking; you told your mom you'd be a good boy?" he teased. Unfortunately, this was the last straw for Leo, and he burst into tears. You quickly stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Mikey, stop scaring the kid," you said firmly as you gently hit him and kneeled down to wipe Leo's tears. It was clear that you needed to find a way to get them along, and you knew it wouldn't be easy. But you were determined to make it work. "I don't like him, auntie. Who is he?" Leo asked as he sobbed, his young face contorting in confusion and distress. Mikey responded with an insensitive remark: "Hey kid, stop with those little acts." You shot him a warning look, but he just childishly stomped his feet and walked towards the couch.

You knelt down and gently wiped away his tears. "I'm sorry for the way your uncle acts," You said, trying to provide some comfort. "But I think it's important that you get to know him. Come here, and I'll introduce you to him," you said.

At first, he was hesitant, but with some gentle persuasion, you were able to convince him. "He's Uncle Mikey, Auntie's boyfriend," you said, introducing him to Mikey. Mikey had a frown on his face and seemed uninterested in the conversation, so you playfully hit his arm. "Stop it already; you're acting like a kid," you chuckled. Despite your comment, Mikey remained silent and kept his eyes fixed on the TV screen.

"Eh? But he doesn't look like it," Leo said as he tilted his head in confusion. "He acts like a child," Leo teased with a smile, making Mikey turn his gaze on him. Despite giving Leo a few death glares, Leo couldn't help but laugh.

Leo then decided to join both of you on the couch, sitting on your lap, and you all spent your time watching TV together. "Hey kiddo, mind sitting over there; that's my place." Mikey pointed at the single sofa while frowning at Leo. You let out a sigh. You knew that Mikey doesn't really know how to get along with children.

"No, why don't you sit there instead? I'm going to stay here because I miss my auntie," Leo said as he smiled at you, and you did the same. His little arms gave you a soft hug. Mikey looked at Leo with a stern expression and said, "Do you think I'll let you slide? This is my place, and it always has been." Mikey picked him up and sat him on his side, so Leo started crying.

"Listen to your uncle, and don't be stubborn," Mikey continued. As he laid his head on your lap. "Manjiro," you coldly called his name, and he just pouted as he sat down properly and carefully carried Leo back into your lap. "You're so lucky that you're still a kid," he murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly. You shot him with a look of annoyance, shaking your head. "Stop being so childish, Mikey," you chided, reaching over to pinch his nose playfully. He frowned, clearly not satisfied with your response.

"But what am I supposed to do now?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. "I should be the one there." He whined like a child. "Why don't you take a nap or something?" you suggested, reaching for the remote control. Mikey's eyes widened in shock. "What? No way!" he protested, scooting closer to you on the couch. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, putting his head on your shoulder.

"Do you know that you stole my precious moment with her?" he told Leo. “But I missed my auntie!" he said, almost pleadingly. Mikey let out a long sigh, clearly exasperated. "Fine, just for today!" he compromised, and you couldn't help but chuckle at the two of them. Despite their bickering, they end up compromising.

© shinskichan

[melodyanqel]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ── ✧ sh. (vi. celebrating you)

congratulations! you have been invited to the romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will live with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out you are marrying your favorite idol?

✿ pairing: idol!seonghwa x fem!idol!oc

✿ genre/tags: fluff, developing relationship, idol au, fake marriage, reality show

✿ word count: 2.9k words

✿ note: hello lovies! yes here is a brand new update! i was planning on updating at the end of july or the beginning of august but i got super busy. i saw ateez in concert which was a magical experience and many other fun events happened. but I'm super happy to update again and i hope you all enjoy this one! it's a much longer one too hehe

✿ melodyanqel taglist: @hwa-stars @forever-atiny @moonvol6 @10nantscompanion @chngbnwf @heheheeral @coldeforprez

-Off-screen-

❪ April 2, 2024 ❫

Bella is not an early bird nor is a morning person. It’s ironic because she is the most energetic member of the group. However, she is committing because she has something special to prepare for her husband’s birthday.

7:30 am

The young wife is the first one in the dorm to wake up while everyone sleeps in because it’s their day off. Bella makes a quick and easy breakfast that she would make when living in America. It’s a classic omelet with toast. 

“Good morning. Wow, it smells good.”

Bella heard Isa’s voice. Her best friend is still in her pajamas, with messy hair in a bun, and a bare face, but she still looks beautiful. Bella finished making her breakfast and sat at the dining table. Isa goes to the kitchen to treat herself with cereal. “You’re up early, which is a shocker.” She chuckles blithely. The younger friend by six months replies, “I have to run some errands to make for Seonghwa’s birthday.” 

Isa’s mouth gaped and says, “What? Are you for real? You do know it’s just a reality show.” She reminds Bella she doesn’t have to do it because she is doing it for entertainment and no strings attached. 

It’s just a reality show.

Those words ring in her head. 

Bella tells Isa, “I know it is, Chaeyoung, but I want to create a healthy relationship with my favorite group. I never considered having idol friends; maybe this could be great for me.” She shrugged her shoulders. 

Isa approaches with her bowl of cereal. Sitting across from Bella, she spoke, “Well, do your best and be careful. What do our fans call it? Delulu or something.” Isa tried pronouncing the well-known K-pop fan term. Bella lets out a snicker and laughs out loud. A confused expression plays on Isa’s face. “What? Did I say it wrong?” She is so clueless that Bella is in a fit of laughter. 

Not in a million years, she would hear her other half say, “Delulu.”

Bella compromises by taking deep breaths. “Yes, you said it right, and no I am not delusion.” She denies it, even if it was a joke. Isa snickered. “You have his group’s albums, photocards, and the solo photoshoot magazine. I think that’s all.” She is mindlessly listing off Bella’s collection of ATEEZ and Seonghwa. Her best friend is just taking it because she is not wrong. 

“Alright, I get it.” Bella semi-believes she is a hardcore fangirl. Isa knows her through and through and she enjoys the embarrassment. 

When breakfast ended, Bella went on an adventure to purchase what she needed. All thanks to her manager, they contacted ATEEZ’s manager to let her know what Seonghwa likes. Even though she is his fan and knows some facts about him, she hopes to make his present super stellar. 

Bella decides to arrange his favorite things in a cute gift basket. 

She found a crafts store to purchase a small one and went on to other places. Bella is a crafting enthusiast so, she’ll design the basket that reminds her of Seonghwa. 

Three hours later, Bella returns to the dorm with a handful of bags. Her members are chilling in the living room and they notice her. They have appalled faces. 

Sumin is the first one to go to her. “Why didn’t you ask for help?” She wonders in a bit of a concerning voice. Sumin grabs some and puts them on the dining room table. Bella sighs and does the same. “I didn’t think you all would be awake by then.” She indicates that the girls will sleep more during their days off. 

Seeun hops off the couch to check out what Bella has brought to the dorm. “Chaeyoung unnie wasn’t joking that you went all out.” She said. Bella looks at Isa, who innocently sips her drink. Isa told the girls about her shopping for her on-screen husband. Seeun’s eyes scanned the pile and one of the items caught her attention. “Aw~ you got a star plushie.” Seeun grabs it from the bag and hugs it. 

Bella nods her head “Yep. It relates to his name.” She stated. Her members all squealed in unison and she playfully rolled her eyes because they would not let her live in peace for the longest time. She clasps her hands together. “Well! I must get going now because I have less than twenty-four hours.” Bella can predict she’ll not get any sleep. 

Sumin chuckled. “Alright, don’t overwork yourself.” Like a gracious leader, she reminds the younger because she is sometimes stubborn to admit she is tired. Bella collects her materials and Seeun hands her the star plushie. “I’ll try to keep my promise.” She winks and walks into the room where she and Isa share. 

As soon as the door gets shut, J asks the leader, “Sumin unnie, do you think she is in love?” 

A genuine smile etches on Sumin’s face. “I’m not going to beat around the brush but it seems like it.” Which is true. All of the girls have never seen Bella so elated over someone. 

Yoon snickered. “I say it’s real. Unless you all want to bet on it.” She has a mischievous glint in her eyes. Sumin frowned. “No, we are not doing that.” She scolded the tallest member. 

Sieun pouts, “You’re no fun, unnie.” Sulking like an upset child. 

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

-On-screen-

❪ April 3, 2024 ❫

In the van, Bella is dressed in a beautiful dress with a lightweight knitted coat. Her ebony hair is in a high ponytail with a bow, creating a cute and pure appearance. She decorated Seonghwa’s gift and spent a long time spray painting the basket white with goodies. She also added some things that reminded her of him.

Bella tied silver ribbons into bows, glued a Miffy patch, and hand-painted gray stars on the handle. 

She is on her way to the party and thank goodness her manager contacted ATEEZ’s manager about the location. It still feels like a dream that she is meeting her favorite artists. Bella even tried to keep her calm before leaving the dorm. This will be a story to tell at a family dinner. 

As the PD crew is filming, Bella hops out of the vehicle with the gift basket. She then sees a gentleman standing in front of the building, standing by the entrance. She assumes it’s the ATEEZ manager. 

“Hello.” Bella greeted with politeness. The man is mindlessly looking around until he hears her soft voice. He sees Bella and brings a welcoming smile to his face. “Hello! Ready to see ATEEZ?” The man asked, who looked a bit young, to be a manager. 

Bella delivered a nod. “Yes, and thank you for navigating me here.” She appreciates the kindness. ATEEZ’s manager replies, “You’re very welcome. You know the group, especially Seonghwa, is excited for you.” He tells Bella and opens the door for her. 

She chuckled, “Really? I hope they’ll like me.” The butterflies are back in her stomach. The manager brings a genial smile to his face. “I’m sure they will. But I must admit they are a handful.” He let out the biggest sigh and Bella giggled blithely because she couldn’t imagine caring for ATEEZ 24/7.

They went up to the elevator and stopped at the second floor where all the living spaces are located. “Well, you have arrived at your destination.” The nice manager leads Bella to her husband’s home. She could feel her heart skipping beats. “Thank you so much.” She did a bow for respect and appreciation. The young man shook his head. “You’re welcome and I don’t need the formalities. I’m pretty much almost the same age as them.” He lets out a short laugh. Bella’s assumption was correct. But it does make her question how he can organize a chaotic group. 

The wife puts on a smile. “Okay.” She said. After the manager left, Bella rang the doorbell. She waits a little until a well-known, handsome face opens the door. 

“Oh, hi!” It’s none other than the captain of ATEEZ, Hongjoong. 

Bella does her best not to stutter. “Hello, sunbaenim! Seonghwa oppa invited me!” She reasoned as if he didn’t know about her invitation. Of course, Hongjoong knows because Seonghwa tells him everything. 

“Please, come in!” Hongjoong cordially has Bella enter the place. 

She spots six other members of ATEEZ in the living room doing their thing. They decorated the home very Seonghwa-esque: chrome silver, Animal Crossing, Star Wars, and bunnies. 

“Guys! We have a guest!” Hongjoong informed the members.

Wooyoung turns off his phone and is the first to notice Bella. “Hello! It’s so nice to meet you!” He hops off the couch to bow. His infectious smile plays on his stunning bare face. At once, the rest of them followed Wooyoung and greeted her. 

It now feels like heaven. 

“So nice to meet you all!” Bella bows to her favorite artists. She also sees them not wearing makeup and are in casual clothes. They still looked beautiful. 

Bella could sense the fangirl spirit in her was going crazy. 

To lighten up the mood and make her comfortable, Yunho approaches her with a loving smile. “I see you brought a gift for the birthday boy. And you’re probably wondering where he is at. He is doing a live-stream at the company’s building.” He explained about her husband's missing appearance. 

Hongjoong stands next to her and adds, “Seonghwa just texted me that he’ll be done soon after he opens our gifts.” 

San gives a kind gesture. “You can leave the gift on the kitchen counter. Do you like video games, Bella?” He questions as she puts down the gift basket.

Bella nodded, “Yes, I do! What games do you have?” It seems like a bonding is about to happen.

They sat together in the living room. Bella gets placed in the middle while Yeosang and Mingi are on each side of her. She chose Overcooked, a friendly yet complicated game. 

“Which team do you want to be with?” Jongho asked Bella. He is the biggest gaming enthusiast.

Blue Team: Yeosang, Mingi, and Jongho

Red Team: Hongjoong, Yunho, San, and Wooyung

The dancer replies, “Hmm, I’ll choose the blue team so it can be even.” She picks her avatar, which is a cute snowman. 

Yeosang on her right speaks, “Seonghwa hyung told us you’re a big Atiny.” He recalled the night the eldest expounded on his first date with Bella. She smiles timidly. “Yes. I’ve been following your journey since debut.” Her reply made them feel joyous. 

A bright smile plays on Hongjoong’s face. “That’s amazing. How did you discover us?” He is intrigued to know more about Bella. She then tells the group she discovered them through two music videos, Say My Name and Hala Hala. She had no clue at the time who they were nor her friends ever mentioned them. The girl was enthralled by their music and the members themselves. Bella has gone from a K-pop fan to a K-pop idol. 

Throughout the hour of their video gaming session, the dorm is filled with complaints, raging, and banters. Bella was laughing the entire time because they didn’t seem to care about their image. They have zero filter. Some of the guys did let out profanities when not serving the dishes. But she was having fun with her brother-in-laws. 

“Everyone, I’m home!”

The man of the hour is here. Bella hears her husband and she waves at him. “Hi, Seonghwa oppa!” She said in delight. He beams and a smile pasters onto his handsome face. “Bella you came!” Seonghwa giddies by his running his legs all cutely. He moves himself to the living room to see the bunch playing together. 

“It looks like everyone is in the zone.” Seonghwa detects their focused faces except for Bella. She is looking at him with a tender smile. The brother-in-laws aren’t sensing the tension, but the PD crew is watching the couple and perceives they have some type of emotion in their eyes. 

Flustered, Seonghwa clears his throat. “I’m glad to see you all are bonding. Which team is winning?” He wondered. 

Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho, and Bella speak in unison. “Blue team!” While earning some groans from the opposing team. Seonghwa claps his hands. “Hwaiting!” He chanted.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

“Wow! Your room is so cool!”

“Thank you! It’s a lot smaller in person.”

Bella can tell because Seonghwa’s Lego collection, in a glass case, takes up the majority of his bedroom. She comments, “It’s cool though. It screams Seonghwa oppa.” She motions her hands in the air. Seonghwa chuckled because it was adorable. He also distinguishes how she looks today. Gorgeous, lovely, adorable, stunning, and so perfect. 

But he went with, “You look great today.” It sounded unconvincing and Seonghwa wanted to slap himself. Bella halts from examining his room and turns to him. She responded, “Thanks. You look great as well.” Who was she kidding? He looks exceptionally magnificent. Seonghwa wore a feminine yet elegant white top with a pretty tied knot on the front and his raven hair was permed. 

Seonghwa thanked her wholeheartedly. Bella then notices an open suitcase filled with unfolded clothes by the closet. Her husband follows where her eyes are on. “Yeah, I’m still in the process of packing for Coachella.” He rubs the back of his neck because seeing a little mess is embarrassing. Bella gasps, “Oh, I forgot that it’s coming up! Congratulations!” She is proud of her husband and her brother-in-laws. They’ll be the first K-pop male group at Coachella. 

“Very appreciated.” Seonghwa feels grateful for the opportunity.

Soon enough, the couple takes a seat by the desk. Seonghwa grabbed an extra for Bella, which was Mingi’s desk chair. “Aw~ you displayed our pictures.” Bella points at their photobooth strips on the pegboard, next to the computer monitor. Seonghwa grins at the memories from their first date. “I love putting up things that are special to me.” He reasoned.

Bella adores Seonghwa even more than ever. 

“Are you going to miss me while I’m in California?” He asked out of the blue and it had Bella taken back. Seonghwa seemed a bit upset about being gone for two weeks. Bella nods her head. “Yes, I will miss you! But we’ll see each other again.” She tries to assure him. 

Seonghwa likes that Bella will miss him while he is away. Maybe it’s because he never had a significant other who waits for him to return. 

His wife realizes what she told him and her cheeks blush rosy red. 

Seonghwa would show Bella which Lego set took him the longest to complete, and how doing live-streams in his room is comforting because Atinys are his safe place. In the middle of their conversation, Hongjoong knocks on the door from the outside. 

“Yeah!” Seonghwa responded loudly. 

“When do you want to blow your cake?” His best friend asked. 

Seonghwa checks his phone to see the time. It’s close to evening and the sun is going down. “Let’s do it now!” He answers to Hongjoong. The members begin to set up the table for him. 

Bella looks at Seonghwa with a quizzical look. “I’m curious. I know Hongjoong is your best friend and your group and Atinys likes the idea of the parent and children dynamic. Do you both still do it?” Her question is silly to her, but Seonghwa finds it interesting. 

He answers the question. “Sometimes. Like, most of them know how to care for themselves, especially in public. However, there will be times when the members need us. Not too long ago, Jongho was concerned about his vocals during the Coachella preparation. He went to me about feeling unconfident and anxious. I reminded him to take it easy and you will get it right.” Seonghwa did feel his heart ached when he saw the youngest’s pressured mentality. 

Bella grows more fond of their relationship. She knows they’re like a real family, but hearing it from her husband is profound. “You have a nice heart, oppa.” She comments on his good nature. Seonghwa etched a smile on his plump lips. He slowly leans his body to be close to Bella’s space. She has no clue what he is doing, but she is screaming on the inside.

“May I?” Seonghwa wants her consent in a gentle voice. 

Bella goes with it by delivering a small nod. She closed her eyes and felt his lips peck her forehead. 

Their second affection was a short and sweet kiss. 

Afterward, everyone gathered at the dining table to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ and send best wishes to their Seonghwa. Then comes Bella’s present opening. 

“Wait?! You decorated this?” Mingi points his finger at the customized gift basket. The guys were astonished too. Bella giggles with a nod. “I did it yesterday and put things that reminded me of Seonghwa oppa.” Five hours was worth it. 

The husband pouts and says, “You did all of this for me. Thank you so much!” He cutely thanked his wife. Bella pats his head. “You’re welcome!” She’ll only do it for him. The members watch their moment unravel and it’s amusing. 

Seonghwa looks inside of the basket and he can’t contain his happiness. 

An Animal Crossing Lego set, a silver bracelet with a star charm, a handmade pop-up card, the star plushie, and his favorite snacks. 

The card reads, 

Happy Birthday, Seonghwa oppa!

Wishing you the best of luck and all the happiness in the world. Remember to cherish every moment, and never lose sight of what's truly important.

Your wifey, Bella

series masterlist

[kaciidubs]

Hii! Omg first of all I love your works! Seconddd I was wondering if I could request fem reader being needy while bangchan is busy working on music so he has her riding his thigh to get off ?

Hello Nonnie!! Thank you so much, I'm glad you've read them! And of course you can! I'm a sucker for this concept so I hope you enjoy~

Work from Home

❣ Summary: On nights like these, you were thankful Chris was able to take his work anywhere he wanted. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 2.8k ❣ Warnings: Pleasure Dom! Chris, Sub! Reader, daddy kink, dacryphilia, thigh riding, a lot of begging, praise, degradation, reader is extremely needy, comfort, allusions to multiple rounds ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, and Baby, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, and Slut, a lot of word 'please' being used, Chris calls himself Daddy ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

Chris was a busy man, you understood that the same as about 99% of the population who knew of him; he was the leader of seven darling, crazy boys, the leader of the 4th generation of Kpop, a writer, composer, lyricist, computer programmer, amongst the numerous other titles he had hidden in his extensive resume.

Chris was also your boyfriend; silly, kind, obnoxiously good looking, bashful, caring, insanely good at making omelets, hot, great with kids, animal lover, dad joke aficionado, and did you mention drop dead gorgeous?

Especially when he was making music?

It was one of the few nights he opted to bring his work home with him, toting his gray macbook as he shuffled through your shared apartment’s front door, offering you a shy apology as he told you he needed to work on a few more tracks throughout the evening.

Of course you brushed off his needless apology with a smile - even though you liked for him to have a break from work whenever he was home, you ultimately knew there’d be late nights of editing and schedule reviewing that he couldn’t avoid - and told him you had no problem with occupying yourself until it was time for the coveted “which takeout menu are we ordering from tonight” game.

But, damn, did he always look that sexy in that black t-shirt you’d seen time and time again? And did his lips always have that subtle shine to them or did he reapply chapstick in the car - god, did he lick them?

“No problem, baby - I’ll come get you for dinner, ‘kay?” You watched as his previous worry melted into gratefulness, stepping forward to press a kiss to your temple before making his way to your shared bedroom.

Maybe, just maybe, his plan of working from home wasn’t the best mode of action - not that it was his fault in the slightest, of course not! 

But you knew how you got at the sight of him working on his music, headphones on so as to not disturb you - even though you were in two completely different rooms - and he knew that you loved watching him in his element, admiration set in those pretty eyes of yours.

Shaking yourself out of whatever horny stupor that decided fog your brain, you confined yourself to doing whatever it took to keep yourself occupied and away from your slightly workaholic boyfriend; tidying up the living room, washing what little dishes were left in the sink, even going so far as attempting the new season of the anime you were neglecting.

An hour.

One hour.

You felt like you were going crazy, your body hot and strung like a freshly crafted bowstring, the first episode of your anime currently on pause as you stared at the slightly ajar door of your bedroom; keen ears picking up the subtle key taps of his laptop.

God, what you wouldn’t give to have those long, pretty fingers of his on you, in you. He was probably focused too, his plump lips set into a pout, his eyebrows slightly pinched as if he were mad at something, but it was simply him trying to keep the hundreds of ideas in his head together.

Throwing your head back in exasperated whine, you quickly came to terms with the options laid before you; A) force yourself to sit through three 35 minute episodes and give him the space he deserves, or B) take matters into your own hands.

Your body must have made up your mind for you as you suddenly found yourself two steps away from the bedroom door, hand reaching out to push the door wider - welcoming yourself to a sight that made your heart and pussy flutter.

Chris was currently propped against the headboard, two pillows used to support his back as he supported his laptop on his thighs- god, his thighs.

There wasn’t a day where you weren’t thinking about them, especially when he was wearing his staple pair of black shorts that not only accentuated the sculpted muscles but highlighted that amazing ass of his - the same shorts he was currently wearing now, in fact.

You were drooling in more ways than one, hungrily staring at the exposed skin as if you’d never been exposed to them before.

“Baby?”

His soft call for you was enough for your heated gaze to meet his gentle eyes, squinted a little from the strain of staring at the screen of his laptop.

“You okay? Wanna figure out what to eat now?”

Shaking your head, you finally willed yourself to walk further into the room, hands going to the waistband of your sleep shorts as you unceremoniously stripped them off - leaving you in a simple pair of cotton panties, definitely not the pair that screamed “take me now”, but that was the least of your concerns.

Chris’ eyes widened, flicking between the discarded shorts, your partially bare lower half, and your face, “Princess? What-”

“I need you.” The whine came desperate from your lips as you crawled onto the foot of the bed.

Chris’ heart clenched, his pulse racing from the sight of you - pupils blown and fogged with lust - sitting on your calves with what he could only describe as pure submission, waiting for his acceptance to your invitation. He wanted you too, there was honestly rarely a moment when he didn’t want you, but he was just at the peak of his creative flow and he didn’t want to treat you to a half assed session in the sheets because his head was elsewhere.

“I… Princess, you know I love you, and I love that you love me, but-” An apologetic frown curved his lips, the coming words making him feel like a terrible boyfriend, “I-I’m so close to finishing this, there isn’t enough time-”

“Channie, please? Fuck, please? Please, please, I’m so turned on it hurts,” you nearly sobbed, your aching pussy throbbing now that his presence was near and so, so close to satiating your craving. “You don’t even have to fuck me - I can just ride you?  You can finger me? Eat me out? I’ll do anything - I- I-” Your tear lined eyes flicked to his thighs, taking in the expanse that his laptop didn’t cover, “-I’ll ride your thigh? Y-You don’t even have to stop working! Just- Just make it stop, daddy, please.”

His face softened, and he wasn’t ignorant to the twitch in his shorts at your proposition; his laptop didn’t take that much room for you to be able to get comfortable on one of his thighs, and even if it did he could just put it at an angle - it wasn’t that big of a deal, not when his girlfriend was in such dire need for relief.

“You wanna ride daddy’s thigh?” A soft grin stretched his lips when you nodded hastily, lips set into a pout. “Okay, princess, come ‘ere.”

Your panties were slid off in record time, left in a puddle at the foot of the bed as you made your way to his lap. It took a few moments of repositioning, Chris tugging up the loose fabric on his right thigh for you to straddle it, hovering over the muscle and practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Look at you,” he cooed as he adjusted the decorative pillow supporting the other half of his laptop, “so fucked out of that pretty brain of yours, yet you still wait for daddy’s permission.” Once he was satisfied with the balance, his warm eyes found yours and he cocked his head to the side, “Gimme a kiss, princess.”

Leaning forward, you happily met his soft lips with your own and - shit, he did reapply that cherry chapstick - a shiver ran down your spine as a moan vibrated in your throat, fingers curling in his shirt in an effort to pull him closer.

You could feel his lips curl into a smirk, parting just so your noses and foreheads were still touching.

“Go on, make yourself feel good on me, yeah? I promise I’ll fuck you right when I’m done.”

Sighing a shaky breath, you finally lowered yourself onto the firm muscle of this thigh, choking on a moan from the delicious pressure on your clit, feeding the fire raging in your lower stomach. “F-Fuck- Feels so good, daddy.”

Chris hummed in acknowledgement before bringing his attention to the backing track currently waiting for him - just a few more edits, maybe another sample or two, then he’d be all yours, he promised.

You moved your hips at a testing pace, shivering at the short glide your puddling arousal made on his skin before fully committing to the movement; pressing yourself harder against his leg with the tried and true method; forward, back, forward, back, forward with a little grind, then back again. To keep yourself steady, you held his shoulder with your right hand while your left gripped high on his thigh, fingertips just barely grazing the area of his crotch.

“Daddy.” Your lips parted in a breathy moan, head lolling back as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure.

“Baby, a little quieter, please.”

You didn’t even notice the typing happening beside you, or the subtle shift in Chris’ demeanor until you brought your head back up again, eyes locked in on his illuminated face - and, most importantly, his concentrated pout.

Another wave of arousal flowed from your cunt, making the grind of your hips that much easier as you watched him. “But- Daddy, it feels good, why-”

“Because I’m still working, baby girl,” he didn’t even bother side eyeing you, eyes flitting around the screen in search of another asset, “if you can’t control yourself then you can get off and wait until I’m done.”

Your heart clenched, nails digging into the cotton of his sweatpants as you shook your head, “N-No! No, I’ll be quiet, I’ll be good.”

“Good girl.”

The only sign of good graces he gave you was a subtle flex of his thigh that had you curling forward, nearly knocking your head into his shoulder until you steadied yourself again.

A soft, slow breath fell from your lips before you went back to focusing on the hypnotic forward, back of your hips, rolling them in a way akin to the way you would if you were riding his dick - something you were currently aware of making a tent in his shorts.

‘I promise I’ll fuck you right when I’m done.’

Your hips stuttered, walls clenching helplessly around nothing as you remembered his promise - his guarantee of fucking you until the only thing going through your mind is him.

Choking back a whimper, you rode his thigh with a new fire - shivering breaths escaping you with each subtle tense of his thigh and every odd drag of his skin against your budding clit.

Soon, with the help of your overactive imagination and a few shifts from Chris, you found yourself at the peak of your climax, teetering just on the edge but nothing was quite enough to push you over; your thighs were tense and sore, muscles burning as your poor, neglected pussy begged for something more than the repetitive grinding.

Blinking away the heavy fog of lust blurring your vision, you lifted your head to look at the man in front of you, heart skipping a beat as he looked completely unbothered from the act happening in front of him - if you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he wasn’t even interested in you, but the blush taking over his ears and neck were telltale signs he was.

“C-Channie…” Your voice was weak, wavering from your tireless efforts at getting the high you oh so desperately needed.

“A few more minutes, baby, I just need to play it back and-”

“Channie, no, please, I-” Breath hitching, ultimately growing frustrated by his nonchalant attitude, you pressed on, “I can’t, ‘s not enough - please, please, help me?”

His jaw tensed and you knew you struck a nerve, his eyes snapping to yours for the first time since you entered the bedroom.

“It’s not enough? Baby girl,” he tutted, huffing a breath through his nose, “you were the one who came in here whining like a needy little slut, soaking wet without me having to even lay a finger on you - let alone be in the same room - and now what you begged for isn’t enough?”

Despite his scolding, the motions of your hips didn’t falter - if anything, they sped up, grew firmer as you continued to drive for your orgasm.

“Daddy, I-” A small sniffle escaped you, tears from being pent up for the past 30 minutes welling in your eyes and trailing down your cheeks, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! I- I need you - need your touch, need your cock, n-need you to help me, please!”

The speed at which he tossed his laptop to the side should have had you worried about the hard drives taped to the back, but you weren’t - not when he was finally paying attention to you, touching you, indulging in you.

His large hands dripped the plush of your hips, immediately dragging them into a longer, faster pattern that had you keening in his hold; your head tipping back in a loud, unabashed moan.

“Poor princess can’t do anything without her daddy helping, huh? I thought I gave you everything you needed, too.” He spoke in a hushed tone, as if he were voicing his grievances out to himself as he dragged you - nearly bouncing you - against his thigh. “I let you use my thigh like some fucking toy while I worked, I helped you adjust, I helped you get there, but it still wasn’t good enough - not for a spoiled princess like you.”

Chris’ bruising grip slid down to your ass, squeezing the flesh before raising his right hand to land a smack against the swell of the cheek.

A surprised yelp escaped you, your left hand now holding onto his other shoulder for dear life, the heat of his strong stare making your pussy quiver.

“C-Chri- Daddy- Daddy, can I - fuck- I-I need- inside-”

“No.” He licked his lips, fixing you with a domineering gaze, “You’re gonna come using my thigh, and my thigh only, just like you wanted.” You let out a whine of disdain and he raised his eyebrow, poking his cheek with his tongue before cocking his head to the side. “Oh? But, princess, that’s what you wanted - that’s what you came to me for, begged me for, so that’s what I’m giving you, now fucking come like the good little slut you are.”

You gasped, body stilling as his words fell from his mouth and went straight to your cunt, pushing you into the orgasm you’ve been craving for so, so long. “D-Daddy! Daddy! I’m c- ah!”

He guided your hips into a short grind, helping you ride out your orgasm as your cum further coated his dripping thigh - he was sure some of it even trailed around the sides and stained the sheets underneath, but that was a problem he’d handle in a few more hours.

“There you go, that’s my girl - my good girl.” He cooed, eyes trained on your face currently enraptured in bliss, the tension melting from your body with each ragged breath you took. “That’s it, princess.”

Your hips stilled once you finally came down, laying your head against his shoulder with a tired huff and melting further into his body.

“You okay, princess?” Chris hummed softly, arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “Didn’t take it too far, did I? Wasn’t too much?”

You hummed, shaking your head as you turned to lay on your cheek, lips gracing his warm neck, “Nuh uh, daddy, it wasn’t too far - I liked it, ‘m okay.”

“Good.” He brought a hand up to softly massage the back of your neck, essentially cradling you against him.

A few moments passed before you sat up, a little less foggy-headed and more at ease with the handsome man you had the honor to call your boyfriend. “Okay, Channie, you can go back to work - ‘m sorry for distracting you.”

His eyes widened a bit before he looked askance, hands falling to your bare thighs as he cleared his throat, “Ah, well, I… sort of… finished it a few minutes before you asked for my help to get you to come - I was just clicking around to see if you could actually get off just from grinding on me.”

He expected you to lash out at him, for telling a white lie just to see if you could finish without his help, but when he looked back at you all he could see was an all too familiar sparkle in your eyes - the lips he wanted to kiss ever since you came into the bedroom curling into a smile.

“So you… You can make good on your promise?”

Chris chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief before glancing back at you, a familiar glint in his eyes making you shiver. “Oh, princess, you know I always keep my promises, especially to you.”

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Birthday*

————————————————————————-

Summary: Joe gives you the best birthday you could ask for, showering you with unconditional love and tons of surprises.

Warnings: Fluff, smut (Joe getting a BJ), Joe’s horny, you have pregnancy hormones.

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into the Mystic

————————————————————————-

April 1, 2024

“Baby, can you go get ready? I have a few surprises that we have to leave the house for. Nothing fancy.” - Joe

Today was my birthday, and Joe woke me up just an hour ago to show the breakfast display he’d made that was sitting on the coffee table in the seating area of our bedroom.

We ate in bed together and cuddled up until our bed was ambushed by Miles and Tyson. Joe asked them to go retrieve what they had made for me, which I’d later find out were cards. After going through their cards, Joe led the boys in a horrible yet adorable rendition of Happy Birthday.

Joe then took the boys out of our room to get them dressed and ready for the day. It also gave me some time to finish my omelet and smoothie.

Once I was done, I slipped one of Joe’s t-shirts over my usual sleep uniform lately - bra and panties - and walked downstairs to put the bouquet Joe got me in a vase.

It was shortly after that when Joe came bounding down the stairs to ask me to get ready.

“Like sweats? Or jeans and a top?” - you

“Jeans and a top. I'm wearing jeans and that flannel you got me.” - Joe

“Okay… do I get a hint as to where we are going?” - you

“Nope. It's a surprise.” - Joe winked

I rolled my eyes, but Joe chuckled and walked down the rest of the stairs till he was at arm's length away from me.

“You’ll love it. Trust me.” - Joe

“The last time you said that, you proposed to me.” - you smiled

“Might not be as good as that, but I promise you're going to be very happy with it.” - Joe

“I trust you.” - you

“Good. Now gimme a kiss and go get ready, Mama.” - Joe

Joe leaned down, and I met him halfway, giving him a quick kiss before I walked away from him and up the stairs.

——

After getting dressed, I walked down the stairs to find an empty kitchen and living room.

“Joe? Baby?” - you

Met with silence, I walked over to the back sliding door to see Joe throwing a mini-football with Tyson and Miles.

Joe had on the outfit he described - a greyish checkered flannel with some blue jeans - paired with a backward hat and his black Cartier glasses. I mentally groaned at the visual of my husband; DILF energy and sex radiating off of him without him doing anything remotely sexual.

“Control yourself.” - you mumble to yourself

I had told Joe with my first pregnancy that I didn't want to do anything sexual while pregnant, and he respected it. There had been a few times where I hadn't been able to control myself, and Joe would use his mouth to ease my horniness. I can count on one hand the amount of times I had gotten Joe off while pregnant, he just found it selfish of him to ask.

Now, lately, both of us have been having a little trouble not pouncing on each other at the mere touch of our knees bumping against each other.

“That outfit isn't helping…” - you mumble

Taking a few deep breaths before I stepped out onto the porch, Joe immediately smiled when he saw me.

“Lookin’ gorgeous, baby.” - Joe

“Could say the same about you.” - you grinned

“Ty cmere. I need to put the ball up.” - Joe

Tyson ran up to Joe and handed him the small football. Joe scooped him up before walking toward the back porch steps.

Miles ran behind the two and through Joe’s legs to get to where I was before them.

“I won!” - Miles

“We weren't racing!” - Joe

I rolled my eyes with a laugh as they continued to argue, Joe placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me back into the house.

Once we were in the garage, Joe opened my door for me and got Tyson and Miles into their car seats.

After he buckled up, Joe reached into the center console and pulled his Bengals headband out.

“Okay before we leave… you have to put this over your eyes.” - Joe

“What?!” - you

“You’ll know where we’re going if you don't put it on. I even washed it for you.” - Joe

“Dang it, I would have loved to smell your sweat.” - you

I didn't miss how his eyes flashed dark, and Joe’s tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Are you being sarcastic?” - Joe

“Nope.” - you grinned

“You need to stop giving me dirty thoughts, baby.” - Joe whispered

The tension continuously rose till I took the headband from Joe’s outstretched hand and put it over my eyes.

Joe felt his dick twitch at the sight of me with his headband over my eye. His own eyes lingered over my body. The way my shirt clung to my chest, the way my jeans wrapped around my thighs, and the bump that he loved so dearly, and he put it there.

Fuck, Joe thought.

——

It was just a few minutes later, we were on the road now.

“Joe…” - you

He could hear the breathlessness in my voice, and he was immediately worried.

“You okay?” - Joe

“Yeah… it's just kinda weird not being able to see. I know I'm safe, but I'm a little anxious.” - you

Joe reached over and laced his fingers with mine, squeezing my hand three times.

“We’re almost there. It'll be worth it, I promise, baby.” - Joe

——

Joe controlled himself for the remainder of the drive, thinking about how excited his wife was bound to be when she saw the big surprise that he had been planning for a while.

I didn't think about the surprise too much, just thinking it'd be a little party at the facility or something with my fellow wags.

“We’re here, but don't take the headband off yet.” - Joe

“Yes, sir.” - you

I heard the car door open, signaling that Joe was getting out, and seconds later, the sounds of two buckles being unfastened.

Next, I heard my door open, and Joe placed a hand on my thigh to let me know he was there.

“I’m gonna help you out, okay? Just watch your step.” - Joe

He put his hands on either side of my waist and gently pulled me out of the seat and to my feet.

“Just a couple steps forward for me.” - Joe

I did as he asked, and soon, I felt Joe’s arms wrap around me from behind. His chest against my back.

“Take the headband off.” - Joe

Reaching up to take the headband off of my eyes, I was met with the view of a house that Joe and I toured weeks ago. We loved it, and I told Joe it was the house of my dreams, but just as Joe was going to make an offer, the house sold.

“What are we doing here?” - you laughed

“Remember how the house sold?” - Joe

“Yeah, that's why I'm confused.” - you

A few seconds of silence went by until Joe spoke up.

“I bought it.” - Joe

My whole body froze, and I felt my stomach drop.

“What?” - you

It was all I could choke out, and Joe laughed.

“It's ours, baby.” - Joe

“No, it's not. Are you kidding? If this is an April Fool's prank I'm gonna beat you.” - you

“It’s not a prank. We are set to move in in exactly two weeks.” - Joe

“No way!” - you

“Yes, way, I couldn't pass up what my favorite girl called her dream house.” - Joe

I turned around in Joe’s arms and hugged him tight, borderline jumping up and down before he let go of me.

“Come on!” - you grabbed his hand

All four of us ran up to the house, Joe instinctively slowing his pace for me and the twins.

When we got to the door, Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out the key.

We had been living in the house Joe bought when he was drafted to Cincinnati, and with our growing family, Joe knew it was time to put his big boy pants on and make his first big purchase with his contract extension. One that he knew would make me, the love of his life, over the moon happy.

“It’s more amazing than I remember.” - you

“You like it?” - Joe grinned

“I love it, and I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe grinned

Joe was whisked away by the twins just shortly after that, both of them pulling on his jeans and asking to see their room. He told me I could explore while he went upstairs and showed them.

I went through my favorite parts of the house downstairs before finding my way upstairs. I passed by what Joe and I had said would be the baby’s nursery during the tour. I couldn't help but rub my bump as I looked around the room.

We had the nursery pretty much finished in the house we were living in now, so moving everything wouldn't be ideal, but I knew it would be worth it. She’ll have a bathroom to herself here, which would make Joe and I’s lives easier in the end.

“I know it's not going to be easy moving her nursery here, but I like the setup of the room here more than the current one.” - Joe

I didn't even turn around to look at him, still admiring the room. Smiling at the mere sound of his voice.

“I was just thinking that.” - you laughed

“We’re good at that, you know? Always thinkin’ the same thing.” - Joe

“Yeah.” - you

Joe walked over to me, and I turned around as he pulled me against his chest.

“What am I thinking right now?” - you

I looked up into his eyes, my chin resting on one of his pecs. Joe’s eyes flicked from one of my eyes to the other, almost as if he was trying to read my mind. A cheeky smile found its way onto his face, and I mentally prepared myself for what he was going to say.

“You’re picturing me naked.” - Joe grinned

“No, I'm not!” - you laughed

“Damn, what were you thinking then?” - Joe

“I was thinking about how lucky I am to have you and have this life.” - you smile

“I’m the lucky one. All of this is just my way of repaying you.” - Joe

“Repaying me for what?” - you laughed

Joe playfully rolled his eyes, knowing I knew the answer to my question.

“For everything. I wouldn’t have the resources to buy a house like this if it weren't for you never giving up on me.” - Joe

“Having you is enough repayment.” - you

“So you don't want the house?” - Joe

“What?!” - you

“I’m kidding.” - Joe laughed

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the smile from forming on my face when Joe repeatedly kissed my forehead and cheek.

��—

“They asleep?” - you

“Yup.” - Joe

Joe had just walked into our bedroom from putting the boys asleep. He shut the door behind him and quickly stripped his pants and shirt off before climbing into bed next to me.

“You excited to move?” - Joe grinned

“So excited!” - you

“Good- god it's fuckin’ hot in here.” - Joe

“That’s probably me. I feel like my body is, at least, two hundred degrees.” - you

Joe pulled the covers off of him and sprawled his long, big body out. A flash of desire coursed through my body as I looked over his muscular, trained body, only covered in his boxers.

He put his hands behind his head, causing a few prominent veins to pop out in his arms. My mind trailed off to the thought of another veiny part of his body, one farther south.

“Hey, Joey?” - you

“Yup?” - Joe

“Can you do something for me?” - you

“Of course.” - Joe

I leaned in close and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, laying my hand on one of his thick thighs.

“Take your boxers off for me.” - you

Joe’s eyes snapped open and his adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped.

“Wh- what?” - Joe

Moving my hand closer to his crotch, Joe gasped when I squeezed him through his thin boxers.

“Oh.” - Joe groaned

His big hands immediately left their spot behind his head and reached down to shove his undies down to mid-thigh.

I immediately wrapped my hand around him, though he wasn't hard yet. As I stroked his length, Joe groaned, and I felt him harden and grow in my hand.

“Fuck, baby.” - Joe

“Feel good?” - you

“You know it- does.” - Joe grunted

Seconds later, Joe was now fully erect and ready for action.

I leaned down, and just as Joe thought I was going to take his length into my mouth, I went straight for his balls.

“Shit!” - Joe moaned

He moaned continuously as I sucked and licked him into oblivion, gently stroking his length with my hand.

“Baby, you're gonna make me cum.” - Joe

Removing my hand from his cock, I traced my tongue from his balls, up his length, and swirled it around his tip before taking him deep.

“Mama… god, y/n!” - Joe

He couldn't control his loud outbursts as I continued to work him over, bobbing my head up and down as tears filled my eyes.

“That feels so good.” - Joe groaned

Doubling my efforts, I tried my hardest to give Joe the best, sloppiest head to pay him back for everything he'd done today.

“Good girl, you're making me feel so good.” - Joe

Not much longer after that, Joe had to focus very hard to ask me a serious question.

“Can you… are you uh- fuck… allowed to swallow?” - Joe

I gave him a thumbs-up, and Joe’s head immediately fell back.

“I’m cumming!” - Joe

Feeling him shoot his load into my throat, I lapped up every last drop.

After pulling off of him with an audible pop, I moved over and lay on my side, watching his heaving chest as he recovered from his orgasm.

Joe didn't know he needed to release that bad until it happened.

“You okay, baby?” - you

“Yeah- shit, that was amazing.” - Joe

“Good, I'm glad. Anything you want me to do, like get a washcloth or something?” - Joe

“Just keep laying on your side like that.” - Joe

“Why?” - you

He rolled over fast, somehow spreading my legs and ending up with his hand squeezing my inner thigh in a matter of seconds.

“Because it's your turn.” - Joe growled

“You don't have to…” - your voice trailed off when the look on his face registered in your mind

“Consider it my final birthday wish of the day, okay Mama?” - Joe

And with that, he pressed his lips to mine. Happy Birthday to me.

————————————————————————-

Authors note: I think I'm ovulating

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! 💕💕

[renegadeguild]

Edible Book Day 2024

the appetizers

A Commonplace Snack by Daemonluna

A collection of tropes and other ephemera, rendered in nori and rice paper. Sewn with a glass sweet potato noodle, ornamented with cilantro and lime.

This is how we roll (bamboo slips) by anonymous

This is the first book I have made since joining Renegade. I didn't think I'd get to make books and eat them too.

The (Not Actually) Matzah Plague Board Book by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie

10 Plagues by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie. Illustration by Noodle and Noodle's Auntie. Writing and Binding by Noodle. Materials: Gluten Free Matzo Substitute, fruit roll ups, fruit by the foot, sour belts, licorice, fruit rolls, sour sticks, cumin, water.

a fluffy breaduation by Sandy Kitty Bindery

i do not regret anything... except maybe the dentist bills ;)

Pancake Scroll by Zhalfirin

This was a lot easier than I had anticipated. A bit bland because I wasn't sure what I'd do the painting with and therefore didn't season the batter. It goes really well with a side of salmon and soy sauce though.

the mains

the iron chef secret ingredient was lasers by Lark

lasers are friends not food.

6/10, at least I chose turkey this year.

The Count of Monte Cristo by Thunder (Dragon's Thunder Press)

This was my first book bind ever. The case is French toast. The 2 signatures are each made of 3 omelet folios, and they're sewn with mozzarella string cheese strands. The end pages are each a slice of prosciutto, and they're pasted in with raspberry fruit syrup. Finally, the titling was done with black icing.

Sandwiches (And Books) Are Beautiful by Velvetwastaken

The ‘book’ ultimately failed to be readable as such due to a betrayal by the onion binding. But it tasted amazing, and thus I think still encapsulated the spirit of edible book day: good books are meant to be devoured.

and of course… … the desserts!

Mistakes were Marbled by anonymous

I baked a strawberry cake with buttercream icing. The buttercream set a bit too quickly for the marbled effect to work, and attempts to fix it caused structural damage, resulting in ... this. I would like half-points for retaining good flavor, despite appearances.

Brandy Snaps by Lottie

Brandy snaps for the pages, strawberry laces for thread. Complete with two weaver’s knots to tie the strawberry laces together

Book Cookies by six

Sadly not fully functional books - the cases are rigid sugar cookies baked into various open forms. The pages are edible wafer paper marked up here and there w/ an edible ink pen and the frosting quite tasty! Experimented with two different sizes and various page configurations. Fed some of them to various Renegade members. There were no fatalities.

Titles are overrated by Zhalfirin

I'm still baffled this turned out the way it did.

It's a delicious little baumkuchen chonker (app. A6 in size and about 6cm thick) cased in chocolate powdered marzipan.

Don't forget to vote for your favorite! And check out last year's winners here.

[the-kr8tor]

Under the clocktower

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Synopsis: Hobie's stuck in a time loop where he keeps seeing you die over and over again. He tries to find a way to escape the loop, at the same time saving you from your fate.

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, TW blood, TW death, TW injuries, TW violence, established relationship. Time loop AU, angst.

My masterlist

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Hobie opens his eyes, the blinding light from the early morning sun mixed with the smell of burning breakfast wakes him up instantly. He jumps off the bed running towards the smell.

His body feels heavy somehow, his lungs sit weirdly in his chest, his eyes wide and alert. It's like he swung around the city while asleep.

He shakes it off attributing it to not sleeping well. Shutting off the stove he sighs at the burnt omelet. He briefly sees the clock on the stove in his peripheral- 8:00 am

Good thing he reached the kitchen before the fire alarm went off, he grabbed a nearby rag to fan away the smoke. Suddenly hearing wet feet squelch across the wooden floors, Hobie instinctively looks towards it.

"Fuck, the eggs!" You run around the corner in your bathrobe, your hair wrapped in a fluffy towel. Running too fast on your wet feet, you slide across the floor, hitting your hip against the table. You're sure it would leave a nasty bruise.

"It's too early to burn down the flat, don't you think so, love?" Hobie puts his hands on his hips, annoyed that he woke up so early. Sweats hang low on his waist, an old band shirt ripped at the sleeves, his arms and midriff on full display.

"Ow, sorry Hob," you rub your aching hip, "I'm sorry I woke you up, grumpy" you close the small distance.

"You better be sorry," he grabs you by the waist, inching his hand toward the hastily wrapped belt of your bathrobe. "I'm still bloody tired" he says with a yawn.

"Aww, my poor baby Hobie," you cup his cheeks, "let me kiss it better" you peck the corner of his eye, your soap and strawberry scented shampoo fills his senses.

While you're distracted, he slowly unties your robe. Noticing the sly movement, you grab at Hobie's wrist. "Tsk tsk. Not today, babe. First day at my new job, remember?"

"Ah shit, that's today?"

"Yep, can't be late" you kiss his lips quickly before he escalates things. "You can go back to bed, I'll see you tonight" you push yourself off Hobie.

"Good luck" he pulls you back by your hand, "remember they're lucky to have you, not the other way around" Hobie kisses your knuckles while looking into your eyes.

You chuckle, "I know what you're doing, Hobie Brown. It's not gonna work"

"Worth a shot" he finally lets you go.

The doorbell rings, both of you looking at the intrusion. Who could that be this early?

"I've got it, Love. Can't have you answering the door in your robe can I?" Hobie winks at you tiredly, which makes his eyelid move slowly.

"Very sexy, babe" you shake your head as you head back towards the bathroom.

Grabbing the door, he sees your neighbour mid knock.

"Ohh, hey!" He looks disappointed "Morning neighbour!" Hobie winces at how chipper this man is this early in the morning.

"What is it?" Hobie asks flatly, leaning on the doorway.

"Ah," he subtly looks behind Hobie "do you have any sugar, white preferably. You see I'm making ensaymada -"

"Wait there" Hobie cuts him off, disinterested at whatever information he was about to share. He just wants to go back to bed.

He shuts the door with a bang.

"Who's at the door?" Your muffled voice rings out.

"No one, just your neighbour!" Hobie yells out so that the man outside hears it.

He grabs a bag of sugar from your pantry, Hobie opens the door, quickly handing it off.

"Thanks! Can you tell-" He gets shut down again when Hobie closes the door in his face.

"Welcome"

Hobie plops himself back on the bed, he groans when his back cracks. He falls asleep to the sound of your humming.

--

Chaos rains downtown, buildings crumble around Hobie while he pursues Green goblin. Everything went bad so fast, he didn't see it coming. Green goblin cackles menacingly while she randomly throws bombs below her hoverboard.

She went completely off the rails when Hobie got a few punches in, desperate to get away, she just started chucking random stuff at him, conveniently one of them was a bomb. The explosion threw him off, Goblin got a few blocks ahead of him, but Hobie's determined.

He swings after the flash of green, he hears the familiar chime of big ben - 6:00pm

Goblin leads him towards the tower bridge, it's packed with vehicles because of the rush hour, that's not good.

"Catch, Spider-Punk!" Goblin chucks another bomb below her, she clearly knows this one will surely cause chaos on the bridge.

With his quick thinking, Hobie grabs the bomb with his web, slinging it away from the crowd below. A shockwave resonates through the old bridge, its old wiring swings letting out a metallic groan. puffs of green smoke cloud above the area.

Hobie hears screams below him, looking down he sees the crowd scrambling away from danger. His senses send electricity through him, he looks back toward Goblin, she's now just hovering in place, in both of her hands she holds belts full of spherical bombs, she holds it against the edge of her hoverboard, threatening to let go.

"Don't you dare!" Hobie webs up both of the belts holding the spheres, ready to fling it away. Before he could do just that, the clips holding the bombs give out, time seems to slow down as Hobie watches in horror, the little balls of destruction falling down like rain. Goblin's shrill laugh pierces Hobie's ear drums.

He ignores the crazy lady, instead he goes after the green orbs. He webs as much as he can reach, quickly throwing them off the bridge, they go off the second they hit the water below. He keeps repeating this process till he's sure he got all of them out.

He lands breathlessly on the concrete, he points towards the nearest end of the bridge, guiding the remaining people off the bridge. Roaming his eyes above to see where Goblin could be.

His senses go off again, Hobie's ears perk up towards the faint ticking sound. He sees the ball bounce off a taxi, it doesn't go off, instead it just lands down the concrete with a clink. He eases up a bit, figuring it might be a dud. Until he looks inside the black taxi, Hobie sees your terrified face against the taxi's window, you're struggling to open the door.

Electricity pulses through him, sounding off alarms. The whites of his mask widen when the sphere stops ticking.

It's not defective, it was just counting down.

You finally notice him, frozen in fear. He tries to reach you, but the shockwave from the explosion stops him, Knocking him down.

The sheer force of the explosion flips the taxi, tethering close to the edge of the bridge. Green smoke covers Hobie's vision, he can barely make out the silhouette of the dark car, he throws caution into the wind, he doesn't look for more ticking bombs, instead he quickly runs toward the creaking metal.

He finally reaches you, as the car finally falls. Hobie quickly webs up the trunk of the car sticking its end on stagnant cars, and columns. He hears your muffled screams inside the deathtrap.

"Hobie!" You desperately scream for him, clinging to the car's headrest, the taxi swings against the wind. You can see him trying to pull you up.

Seeing Goblin wreaking havoc, you see her throw more bombs towards fleeing civilians, you make the conscious decision to yell at him to help them instead.

"Hobie! On your left!" Your throat burns trying to get his attention.

Thanks to his spidey senses and your desperate pleas, Hobie understands quickly, he ties the web he's holding onto a nearby truck, hopeful that it sticks until he can get you out.

"I can do both" Hobie whispers

He yanks Goblin down from her hoverboard with one precise shot of his web, she falls hard on the concrete. In one swift movement Hobie grabs his guitar on his back, using it as a bat, he swings it against the ticking bombs, before its countdown ends.

They explode in mid air, green clouds rain over the historic bridge.

Hobie runs back to you, on his way he notices that Goblin recovered and is nowhere to be seen. He'll find her later, right now he needs to save you.

He swings towards the edge where he last saw you, the only thing he sees is the cold rushing water swallowing the taxi.

His breath hitches in his throat. His knees threatened to collapse under his weight.

"No, not you" he weakly says.

Before he follows you towards the black depths, Hobie sees the Green Goblin rise up from under the bridge right in front of him, a sickenly bloody smile on her face.

"Got your little birdy, spidey" she shakes your terrified form, her claw-covered hand covers the bottom half of your face painfully, your feet floating a few inches off her board.

"Mmph!" You yelp for him as you try to reach him with your hands.

"Let them go! Or I swear I will tear you apart!" Hobie barks out, he doesn't recognize his own voice.

"Oh, okay!"

Your terrified eyes look back at him.

One minute you were in Goblin's hand, the next you were falling to your demise.

Electricity cackles around Hobie, he leaps off the edge, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Shooting a web towards you, he curses gravity, his web merely a hair's width away from your form. Your fingertips graze its ends.

Your head hits the water in a horrible cracking sound.

A cold splash hits Hobie's masked face, he braces for impact.

The water hits him like a truck, but he shakes it off, adrenaline pulses in his body like never before. He tries to find your form under the dark water.

It's dark and quiet under, the only thing he could hear is his own heart thumping in his chest. He hopes to hear yours too.

He roams his eyes, his eyes squinted looking for your familiar silhouette. Hobie finally spots you, slowly floating down towards the endless void. He swims down as fast as his limbs could, his air is running out, he's afraid yours might be too.

He grabs hold of your arm, Hobie quickly brings you against his chest, he ignores the absent beating of your heart.

Reaching the surface was an uphill battle, but he finally got you out. Stopping by the riverbank, he doesn't waste any time doing CPR.

He dares to look at your face, Hobie lets out a pained sound when he sees your dull eyes looking up at nothing, your lips slowly turning blue. He counts in his head to keep track of his chest compressions.

15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

" C'mon lovey, breathe for me please"

25 26 27 28 29

Your lips are now a harsh blue color, he whispers your name like a prayer.

30

He quickly puts his lips on yours to breathe into it, he does it twice, desperation increasing in every breath he gives you. He counts again.

10 11 12 13 14 15

He lets out a pained sob, he bites his lips to stop more from coming out.

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

"I can fix this" he ignores the aching in his arms.

26 27 28 29 30

He breathes into you again and again. He takes a step back to examine you, no reaction.

Desperation, fear and anger flows through every crevice of his body. But his mind fills with you, only you.

He takes his stance again-

Silence

Searing pain ebbs out of his chest, crimson flows from the wound, Hobie finds himself impaled on Goblin's hoverboard, his back trapped in between a wall. Green Goblin lets out a victory screech.

He groans out, his blood seeps through his mouth, gagging on it.

He's dying.

How poetic he thought, dying mere minutes after you. You once joked that you're soulmates, he now thinks you're right.

"I DID IT, I KILLED SPIDER-PUNK!" Her laugh slowly fades away, like he's walking away from her.

He imagines that he does and instead of your lifeless body waiting for him, he imagines that you're standing there, smiling at him. His only wish is that you both end up at the same place.

Big Ben's clock rings out again.

"I should've tried harder," He murmurs. Darkness embraces him like an old friend.

>

Hobie opens his eyes, sunlight tears his red eyes open. He quickly sits up breathless. He grabs his chest, kneading it with his knuckles. He smells something burning.

Hobie gets up, heading towards the smell. He stares at the pan - omelette or what it used to be an omelette.

"Fuck, the eggs!" You run around the corner in your bathrobe, Running too fast on your wet feet, you slide across the floor, almost hitting your hip against the table. Hobie stops you mid slide with his web shooters. You would've hit the table pretty hard.

Why did he know that?

You look towards Hobie looking dumbfounded. "Hobie, why are you just standing there? Turn it off!"

He snaps out of his stupor, turning down the knob he looks at you, his breathing heavy.

"Shit, sorry for yelling, Hob" you grab a rag to fan the smoke out.

You look at Hobie, he has a weird look on his face. He hugs you suddenly, his face landing on the crook of your neck. Hobie recognizes the smell of your soap and strawberry scented shampoo, he takes a deep breath.

That was just a dream, right?

"You better be sorry"

"Aw, my poor baby Hobie, did I wake you up with my culinary skills?" You rub his cheek with your thumb, "I'm sorry I woke you up, grumpy. Let me kiss it better" you crane your neck to peck the side of his head.

Just a dream, right?

Hobie anxiously fiddles with the belt around your robe, you take it as flirting. "Tsk tsk. Not today, babe. First day at my new job, remember?"

You pull away from his warmth, cupping his face, you look directly at his eyes. Hobie briefly sees your lifeless eyes staring back at him.

You take his lack of response to being sleep deprived. "Can't be late" you kiss his lips "You can go back to bed, I'll see you tonight" you push yourself off Hobie.

He calls after you, "remember they're lucky to have you, not the other way -" your doorbell rings.

"Could you get that for me?"

Grabbing the door, he sees your neighbour mid knock.

"Ohh, hey!" He looks behind Hobie completely ignoring him, staring at your bathrobe clad body "Morning neighbour!"

You wave at him awkwardly while you fix your robe to cover yourself up more.

Hobie notices, his eye twitches at the realization. He closes the door slightly, so he's blocking the creepy neighbor from you.

"What is it?" Hobie asks flatly, leaning on the doorway.

"Ah," he subtly tries to take a peek at you behind Hobie "do you have any sugar, white preferably. You see I'm making ensaymada -"

Hobie's ears perk at the last word. He stares at the man suspiciously.

"What did you say?"

"Ensaymada, it's a pastry with-"

"I know what the fuck that is, it's their favourite, why the fuck-"

A dream, right?

"Wait there" Hobie cuts him off, he shuts the door with a bang.

He grabs a bag of sugar from your pantry, Hobie opens the door, tossing it off.

"Oof, Thanks! Can you tell-" He gets shut down again when Hobie closes the door in his face.

Hobie slowly walks back towards the bedroom, he sits on the foot of your bed. He feels tired, wondering what the hell is happening to him. He lifts his shirt to look at his chest, no sign of a wound. He looks around your room, nothing seems out of place, it's the same cream colored walls, the same bed, and dresser, the same lab coat hangs on it, ready for your first day at work.

Hobie plops down, his muscles aching for relief, he starts to drift back to sleep, until he hears you humming the same tune, in the same cadence. Hobie's eyes open in a flash.

"This already happened"

–-

Hobie goes about his day, knowing what happens today, he has the advantage. He can save you this time.

Hobie anticipates every move Goblin makes, he dodges everything she throws at him. Bombs still get thrown about, but now he has the time to react before it causes chaos.

She can't get a single hit in, watching every precise movement he makes, knowing her every move before she even does, it terrified her, so she just flies away crossing the Thames, she sees an opportunity to stop Spider-Punk from chasing her.

Goblin in her desperation, haphazardly throws every single one of her bombs below, Hobie tries to fling them away but he couldn't stop every single one of them from detonating. Loud booms and green smoke cover the iconic bridge.

What did he do wrong?

Spotting you from above, Hobie dive bombs towards you, he's a few feet above you, he reaches out to you, your fingers brush against each other as a bomb explodes near your feet.

>

Hobie opens his eyes, he feels a harsh heat staying on his face, like a lingering taste.

"FUCK!" He screams, "this can't be happening" he holds his head in his hands.

"Babe you okay?" You come out of the bathroom, smoke fills Hobie's nostrils like some kind of cruel joke.

"No! My breakfast!" You rush out.

He follows you, as you fan away the fumes, Hobie hugs you from behind.

"Hey grumpy, sorry about that" you lean against his chest, you crane your neck so he could slip his head on the crook of it.

Hobie smells your familiar scent along with a hint of smoke, he promises into your skin that he would try harder to save you, no matter how many tries it takes him.

"Are you okay? You seem out of it"

"Just tired, lovey"

"You know that I love you, right? I'm right here, you can tell me anything"

"I know"

He left your flat at the same time as you, following closely behind your cab. He's paranoid that Goblin knows that she's in a loop too and might try to get the upper hand.

Hobie finds Goblin before she could find him. He leaves her body beaten on the pavement.

How she reacts with his questions with every angry hit, it's safe to say, she doesn't know about the day resetting.

Hobie continues on throughout the day, Big Ben rings its bell - 6:00pm

This time instead of the Green Goblin surprising him, it's the Vulture.

They fight, and eventually end up on the bridge. They clash against each other, Hobie doesn't have the advantage of precognition this time, but what he has is pure unadulterated anger.

Hobie tries everything, but you still fall. Grasping your limp body, he lets the vulture take his revenge.

The clock chimes again

>

Hobie opens his eyes. This time he doesn't waste time, he swings away immediately, leaving you confused.

He finds Goblin, then the Vulture, but still another Villain replaces them.

Hobie almost beats the Lizard but alas with his enhanced healing he gets up over and over again. Hobie, exhausted and bleeding, watches you cradle his limp body, Lizard's massive shadow falls over you.

You both die in the hands of the Lizard.

>47

Hobie opens his eyes, he starts to count how many times he looped back.

No matter how he keeps killing and trapping all the villains that somehow keeps replacing each other on that bridge. More and more obscure ones start filling the role of your murderer. They seemed endless.

You and Hobie have been impaled, electrocuted, burned, and tossed into a vacuum of space. And yet he keeps coming back to the same day, on the same bed, waking up to the same smell.

He ignores it, he wonders what he did to deserve this. Seeing you die over and over again is hell. That must be it, he's in hell, he doesn't believe in it, but after hearing your pained screams, and countless times he tried to revive you, he's starting to believe in it.

You jump out of the shower, running towards your stove, you don't notice him awake.

After seeing you alive and well, he's sure this isn't hell, because if it is you wouldn't be in it.

>81

He tries something new, he confronts your weird neighbor, he lets his anger get the best of him. Hobie dumps the bag of sugar on his head, letting it fall on him like snowflakes.

You still drown, he still gets killed by Goblin.

>104

He wakes up with anger boiling inside him. Why can't he save you? Why is he so slow? Why can't he figure out what's causing this time loop? He lashes out on you leaving you sobbing on your floor.

You die in his arms this time, thinking that he doesn't love you.

He curses himself, as he lets the uncontrollable fire consume him.

>141

He invents various gadgets made from scrap, to aid him in fighting. He wasted the entire day creating them.

Hobie uses them once, but he still fails. You still fall, he gets burned.

At least he gets to bring his hardwork in the next loop right?

>142

Hobie opens his eyes, his gadgets are nowhere to be found.

He curses his optimism.

>173

He has every villain's attack pattern memorized and predicted, he stares at Vulture's lifeless body on the pavement.

He finally beat one on the bridge.

Breathless he looks behind him, he stares at your wide eyes, your white lab coat is a stark comparison to the chaos around you.

He did it, now to get you home.

Hobie was just staring at you, in a split second, you're hanging from Goblin's hoverboard, the sharp end of it sticking out of your chest.

"NO!"

Goblin laughs as she throws numerous bombs at him, Hobie falls on the bridge, his right arm no more.

"I almost had it" he weakly says as the dark waters of the Thames engulf him.

>212

Hobie's falling apart at the seams.

>237

Hobie opens his eyes, his muscles feel like they're being torn away from his bones. His eyes grow heavier with every revival. His ears are still ringing from the bell's endless chiming.

He needs help, so he goes after you in the kitchen. "Hey" he says morosely.

"G'morning, grumpy-" you turn around, gasping at the sight. Taking in his slouched posture, sunken eyes, his signature smirk notably absent. He looks exhausted.

"Hobie?" You ask, as if you weren't sure it's really him. "What happened? Are you okay?" You slowly close the distance, careful not to startle him.

"Baby?" Grabbing his shoulders, he falls forward with a thud.

"I think-" he clings to you "I think I did something wrong"

Your heart breaks for him "could you tell me what it is?"

He pulls away "I'm stuck, I don't know what to do" he cups your face, for a second, he sees blood covering it, your once bright eyes turning white, then your face comes back to normal "Please, help me"

"Let's sit down, yeah?" You lead him towards your emerald couch. Was it always this colour? It reminds him of the smoke billowing from Goblin's bombs.

He puts on a brave face, "what I'm about to tell you sounds crazy, but please stay with me" and so he tells you everything, starting from the beginning to end.

He thought not telling you of your death might help you swallow it down better, so he doesn't, instead Hobie tells you that he keeps dying over and over again.

After rambling you look at him, emotion unreadable on your face.

"I believe you," you kiss his hollow cheeks "I believe you" you put your forehead against his, grounding him to reality.

"I'm so fucking sorry, it didn't work out, our plan" he murmurs.

"What? Hobie, how many times have you asked for my help?" You pull away, cringing at your tone, he might interpret it as anger.

"This is the thirteenth time"

Your breath hitches in your throat.

"Every single time I've told you, you always believed me, not once you didn't. But I've never asked you, why do you always help me?"

"Because, I love you, Hobie Brown. You could tell me that whales could walk on land, or the sky is falling and I would believe you"

For Hobie the sky IS falling, every time he sees you die, his world ends, and he's powerless to stop it.

"I have every reason to help you, because I can't lose you"

That's a first from you. Hobie never thought of it that way. He was too focused on saving you that he forgot to save himself.

Hobie thinks of something he has never done before in a couple of hundred rotations.

"So, what if we don't do anything? We just stay here, doing nothing" Hobie asks.

"We've never done that before?"

"Never, it could work. Us staying out of danger" determination sparks in his eyes.

"Then let's do just that" you smile.

Hope sparks in Hobie's veins. It has to work.

So you don't do anything all day, you don't go to work, he doesn't do his patrol, Hobie doesn't open the door.

You do your usual things at home, eating together, cleaning the flat to pass the time, savoring each other's presence.

Hobie feels his soul slowly get stitched back together again. This could work.

Your alarm rings out, he glimpses at it 6:00pm

His heart thumps in his chest loudly, he's sure you could hear it too from where you're cuddling into him. You make a fist, before rubbing your knuckles over his chest, your way of calming him down.

You're both gonna make it to tomorrow, he's sure of it.

"I don't know how this could end, but I want you to know that I love you so fucking much. If we make it to tomorrow, know that I will continue loving you every day" he wipes a lone tear on your cheek. "If we keep reliving the same day over again, I will love you in every cycle"

You crane your neck to kiss him, he closes his eyes in anticipation. Your lips never reached his.

>238

Hobie opens his eyes, He lets out a guttural scream.

You rush out of the bathroom, concerned.

He tells you what's happening again.

You have the brilliant idea to leave, just leave the city till the sun rises the next day.

You borrow a car from a friend, grabbing a few necessities, you drive off.

Hobie watches you from the passenger seat, the sun bathes you in its light, giving you a halo of soft light around your head. He smiles tiredly, this could be it.

Once the two of you hit the outskirts of London, darkness wraps him in an embrace.

>239

Hobie opens his eyes.

They tried a train this time. Everything seems to be moving smoothly.

Until the train skids to a violent stop, derailing it. Bags and people start flying around. He tries to web them into place.

He grabs your body shielding you. The train lights shut off, bathing them in darkness while their bodies get thrashed around.

Hobie hears a harsh cracking sound.

The train finally stops, its emergency light turns on, he sees you in his arms bathed in the dim light. Why are your eyes closed?

Hobie feels something warm hit his hand, He lifts his hand away from the back of your head, gore covers his hand. Hot crimson seeps into his clothes.

Not again.

Why does he need to see this again?

Why?

Hobie weeps, as he cradles your body. He lifts his head towards nothing but at the same time looking at you.

"Why aren't you helping me?! Why are you just sitting there watching all of this-"

>240

Hobie opens his eyes. The blinding light from the early morning sun mixed with the smell of burning breakfast wakes him up instantly. He jumps off the bed running towards the smell.

>276

He hates that he's getting desensitized everytime you breathe your last.

But no matter how many times he changes some things, he will always try to save you.

Hobie's exhausted, he feels his mind get numb with every rotation.

He feels like he's watching himself, like a ghost haunting his own body.

>348

He's accepted it, after numerous times trying to get out, he accepts his fate.

Hobie convinces you to stay home and spend time with him, he doesn't tell you why, but by just looking at him, you know he needs you now more than ever. So you stay.

The rigmarole starts where he convinces you to remain home, Hobie keeps you close, you do the exact same things together until it's time for the reset.

>349

He does this over

>356

And over

>381

Again.

>391

He stares at your blue walls, was it always blue?

Your neighbour doesn't knock anymore.

>414

He notices things looking different, your once pristine oak table now looks old.

Your white lab coat is now a slight yellow.

Your kitchen ceiling is covered in soot.

What's happening?

>449

Hobie can't help but look back at you burning a hole on the side of his head with your stares.

"What is it, love?" His voice hoarse.

"You don't look too well Hobie, are you okay?" Concern fills your voice. He pretends this is the first time you've asked him that question.

"Of course I'm okay"

Liar.

"Shut up" He blurts out.

"It's just that you haven't smiled the entire day. I'm sorry, okay, I- I'll drop it" tears prick your eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't- fuck" he rubs his tired face.

"Please tell me what's bothering you" you sniff.

You're met with silence.

"You know I love you right?" You rub his arm, comforting him.

Those three words wake him up. He remembers now, his promise to you. But it comes with a harsh realization.

"I don't think I can save you"

He tells you everything, your deaths, every violent end, every pain that could've been prevented.

Every single cycle.

You look at him, tears threatening to spill out. "You've spent a hundred lifetimes with me?"

"I'm sorry for being selfish" he hugs you tightly, your body shaking. You finally let the tears fall. "I'm so fucking sorry"

You spend a moment in his arms, contemplating your own end.

"Hobie," you reluctantly pull away, "promise me something, okay?" He nods "promise me you'll let go?"

"We-I can keep trying"

"No, you have to stop. You need to go on without me" you cup his face "Don't let me stop you from moving forward" you kiss every inch of his face to soften the blow.

"I don't think I can," his eyes shine with unshed tears.

"Yes, you can, eventually" a sob breaks out of you "eventually you will, just don't you dare ever forget that I love you so much it hurts"

You duck your head to meet his eyes "promise me in the next cycle, don't tell me anything, and you can't convince me to stay with you the entire day, okay?" You wipe his tears with your thumb "you let it happen, just like the first time"

Tears flow out of you freely. He guides you to meet his lips one last time, memorizing every second of it. "I promise. Wait for me, yeah?"

"I'll wait for you no matter how long it takes"

Your alarm rings out.

>450

Hobie's eyes open. He jumps out of bed, turning off the stove before smoke could billow out. Hobie prepares your omelette for you.

He watches you eat happily. Hobie takes a mental picture of the scene.

He lets it happen, no matter how much it hurts his soul, but he promised you, so he lets you go.

You fall.

He fights Goblin until she can't fight him anymore.

Hobie wins, but your life is forfeit. Did he even win when he can't even fulfill the promise he made hundreds of rotations ago?

He dives after your body, he knows you're already gone the second your head hits the water.

Hobie places you on the same riverbank like he has done a hundred times before.

Hobie rubs his knuckles over your heart, he says his final goodbye. "I'll see you when I get there"

He hears sirens coming towards the riverbank, you'll be okay.

He hears the familiar bell.

Hobie swings back home to your flat. His knees give out from under him. He falls on your bed with a thud, sleep hits his exhausted body.

—

Hobie opens his eyes, your telephone rings endlessly in the living room. No burning smell, no hint of strawberry in the air.

He looks at your clock- 11:00 the new date mocking him in red numbers.

Hobie did it, he broke free but now he has to live in a world where you don't exist anymore. Your promise echoes in his ears like a mantra.

A/n: I've hc'd that Hobie would definitely find out he's in a time loop by the second reset lol. Hope you liked it! Likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️

*the picture above is from pinterest*

[vodika-vibes]

Hello again >:3 this time it's Alpha-17 for the same face gods au :3 big grumpy, snarky wonderful Alpha~ <3 Honestly summoning him would very very much be a bad idea for the empire. I imagine he'd be just as brutal as Fox had been if any imps are in the room when he appears, maybe worse knowing him.

Maybe the reader is an escaped prisoner and the empire were gonna use her for the ritual and she accidentally spilled her blood completing their ritual? But if this seems too much like the Fox one I say dealer's choice. ( the dice rolled off my table.. twice. It was a sign... choosing between Alpha and Boba is apparently illegal)

I Give Hope To Man

Summary: You’ve been a political prisoner of the Empire since you were a small child. You can no longer remember the feel of grass against your feet or the feel of sunlight against your skin. You no longer remember your parents' faces or their voices. You no longer remember your brother's laughter. You know it’s only a matter of time before you’re executed like the rest of your family. But you will not go gently into that good night…and the Empire will soon learn that.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Prompt: Mystic AU - same-faced gods AU

Word Count: 2363

Warnings: Mentions of political prisoners (the Empire sucks)

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, so I'm not sure I'm happy with the ending, but I'm having a focusing issue today, so I think I'm overthinking it. Honestly, my typing is too loud, so I think I have a migraine forming.

You are intimately familiar with every single nook and cranny in your cell. You know that the pipes leak when it gets cold outside. You know that when it’s hot outside, the shower only runs in 10-minute intervals. You know that the cell door creaks loudly and that it doesn’t open as smoothly as it should.

You’ve been a prisoner here for the majority of your life.

Father was a politician who openly spoke out against Palpatine.

So, naturally, your whole family was arrested for treason.

To give the Empire some credit, you weren’t separated from your mother until you were ten, and you were allowed to get a basic education. Why they allowed such a thing is beyond you, after all, it’s not like you’re ever going to see the light of day again.

You’re not stupid, after all.

Father was executed when you were still a toddler. Mother was executed several months after your tenth birthday. And your older brother…well, he was executed several weeks after he turned 21.

You sigh as you do your morning stretches. You’ve recently turned 21, which means, at best, you have a couple of weeks left to live. Assuming that the Empire treats you like they treated your brother.

It’s almost funny, how afraid the Empire is of your family. It’d be funnier if your family wasn’t wiped out due to it.

I give hope to man, and I leave none for myself. 

Your family’s motto. Written under your family crest, tattooed on your mother’s collar, and engrained so deeply into your genetic code that even now you can’t help but make escape plans.

You, and your family, you’re symbols to the people who still resist the Empire. And you’re the last one standing. 

There’s a bang on the door, “Morning, Princess.” A drawled voice, one of the guards, calls as he slides the door open.

You roll your eyes and return to your morning stretches.

“Brought you breakfast,” The guard says as he steps into the cell properly and places a tray on the table, “Looks like…an omelet with peppers and onions, some toast, a couple of slices of bacon, and your morning tea.”

You pause and glance at the tray, before arching a brow, “Ah, so I’m to be executed this week then?” Your normal breakfasts generally consist of toast, runny eggs, and watery tea.

The guard inclines his head, once, “Later today, before lunch.”

“Lovely.”

The guard is quiet for a moment, “If you wanted to throw your support behind the Empire, Princess, this would be the time to tell someone.”

You laugh, “I would much rather be executed, thanks.”

He sighs, “I’m trying to save your life.”

“I’m not interested. You can go now. I’d like to eat my breakfast in peace.”

The guard sighs again and shakes his head, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I am to inform you of how today is going to go.”

You slide into your seat and take a sip of your tea, rich and floral, just how you like it. “If you must.”

“In a couple of hours, you are going to be escorted to the ritual chamber on the other side of the island. Once you are there, you will be asked to bathe with a specific soap, and you will be brought to the chamber itself.”

“How festive.”

“You are to be the sacrifice for a summoning.”

“Of course I am.” You take a bite of your toast, “Curious question, I assume this is how the rest of my family was executed.”

“It is.”

“Has it ever worked?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

The Guard flushes an ugly share of red, making him look like a large, misshapen tomato, “It will work this time.”

“Of course it will.” You say with a small smile, “Just because it’s never worked before doesn’t mean it won’t work this time.”

He scowls at you, “The world will be a much better place once your entire family is wiped from the map.”

“I’m sure you think so.”

His eyes narrow at you, though you cheerfully ignore him, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Mmkay.” You don’t even flinch as the cell door slams shut.

If you remember your lessons correctly, rituals are ridiculously easy to throw off. Say the wrong thing, move the wrong way, and the ritual won’t work. Whatever the Empire is trying to summon, you’re not going to let them use your death to get it.

You take another bite of your omelet. This is probably exactly what your family did before they were killed, planned on how to make sure that the ritual didn’t work the way that it was supposed to.

Not the greatest family tradition, you suppose, but it’s better than nothing.

Slowly, you continue eating, trying to come up with a workable plan to keep the Empire from winning. It’s not easy, there are far too many variables for you to actually come up with a good plan, but by the time the cell door opens again and the guards come to escort you to the ritual chamber, you have a plan.

Or, well, an idea of a plan.

The guards chain your hands behind your back and they walk you through the brightly lit halls. For the first time in years, the halls are completely silent. 

Silent enough that the guards are twitchy and anxious about it.

A small smirk lifts your lips when the other prisoners start singing, a dirge of hope and loss and a better tomorrow.

I give hope to men, and I keep none for myself.

The guards swarm the prison, shouting at the other prisoners, ordering them silent, but they might as well be trying to keep the sun from rising for all of the effect that they’re having. 

You’re shoved through a door at the end of the hall, and the door slams shut behind you and the guards, but the song seems to have been picked up by the building itself, as voices echo eerily through the empty halls.

“Keep walking.” The guard’s voice is shaking, and you shoot him a disgusted look before you head down the stairs. 

They unbind your hands as you come to the ritual chamber, and you’re directed to a small shower. A woman hands you a bar of soap, soap that smells very woodsy and clean, and you’re ordered to bathe with that bar of soap specifically, including your hair.

You strip and step under the hot water, after shooting the woman a baleful look. Bar soap is not good for hair, but since you’re supposed to die in here, you suppose it doesn’t matter in the long run.

Once you’re clean, you’re draped in a dark blue cloth, which has been fashioned into some kind of dress, and you’re guided to the middle of the room and instructed to sit on a stone table. One of the guards chains you to the table and then scurries to the edge of the room. 

You scan the room thoughtfully. Despite being so far underground, you’re warm, the thin cloth covering your body should do little to keep you warm, you should be shivering like the rest of the people in the room, but you’re not. Which is surprising, as you can see your breath.

The room is lit by blue flames, not offering much light but dousing the room in eerie shadows.

Water pours down the walls, not affecting the flames in the slightest, and if you had to guess the water is the cause for the low temperature. 

Across from you is another table. There are several whisky bottles, a full set of ancient armor, and a bowl filled with a flame that you can only call angry.

You hear your name, and you turn to look at the Government official. “You have been found guilty of treason,” He says, his voice clipped, “Have you anything to say in your defense?”

You turn your gaze away from the government officials, “I wasn’t aware toddlers could commit treason,” you say. It’s all you say. Slowly you drag your knuckles across the stone table. Once, twice, three times.

The table isn’t sharp, but it is rough. Rough enough that with only three passes of your knuckles across the top, the thin skin of your knuckles split open, spilling your blood on the table.

Adding your blood to the ritual.

You hear the Government official sigh, “Begin the ritual.”

There’s the sound of a fire being lit, and then the sound of rushing flames. You expect to feel the heat of the flames before you see them, so you’re surprised when nothing changes. 

Pale blue flames encircle the room, shielding you from the prying eyes of the people outside the circle. Then the flames curve towards you and the other table.

You pull your feet up as the flames go under your feet, and absently you flick some of your blood into the flame.

Much to your surprise, the flame stops moving and then flares brightly as the fire turns a much darker shade of blue. You end up having to close your eyes as the flames burn bright enough that it’s like staring into the sun.

The bright laugh fades after only a few moments, and you open your eyes, expecting to see the flames slowly filling the ritual circle.

Only, that’s not what you see.

The flames burn brightly around the outside of the circle, but standing across from you is a man.

A massive man, heavily scarred, who is pulling armor on. 

You’d swear that the armor was too small for him, only it seems to resize and recolor to fit him as he pulls it over the dark, skin-tight, material covering his body.

Finally, he turns his gaze onto you, his eyes are dark and piercing as he looks at you, at the material you’re wearing, and at the chain around your ankle, and he turns to focus on you fully.

“My name,” He says slowly, “is Alpha-17. I am the god of retribution.”

You exhale slowly, you should be afraid, a god of retribution is not a nice god, after all. But you’ve never felt safer in your life.

So, you introduce yourself. 

Alpha offers you his hand, and you take it, allowing him to help you to your feet. The chain around your ankle dissolves as if it was never there to begin with.

“I have been a political prisoner since I was a toddler,” You say to the much larger man, “My father, mother, and brother have already been killed.”

“Is that right?” Alpha kneels in front of you, and you don’t stop yourself from reaching out and tracing one of the scars on his face with a light finger.

“It is. My father was a politician who stood against the Empire. He called them out for cruelty, and for being power-hungry. And he died for it.”

“Was he right?”

“Yes.” You watch, curiously, as Alpha-17 closes his eyes while your fingers explore his face, “This entire prison is home to Palpatine’s political prisoners. Entire families who aren’t allowed to live because we believe in freedom.”

“You don’t feel angry.” Alpha notes.

Your smile isn’t nice, “They don’t get to have my anger. Or my fear. Or my hate.”

“You summoned me, little one.” Alpha rumbles, “So what do you want?”

“I want them to hurt. I want to carry on my family’s legacy. But I can’t do it alone.”

“And what is your family’s legacy?”

“I give hope to man, and keep none for myself.”

Alpha smiles and catches your hands to bring them to his lips. His gaze locks with yours, “I’m happy to support you in all your endeavors. You are my priestess after all.” He presses his lips against the pads of your fingers and then stands again.

Alpha lightly pushes you so that you’re crouched behind the table, and then steps away from you. You have so many questions, but based on the look on his face, the questions will have to wait.

You peek around the corner of the table and watch as the flames burst outward. You see the government official approach Alpha, and you watch, stunned as Alpha moves and shoves his arm through the man’s chest.

You watch as Alpha slaughters all of the people in the room with an ease that should frighten you, but doesn’t for some reason.

As the last body hits the floor, barely recognizable as a person, you stand and hurry over to him. “You killed them all.” You marvel.

“Is that a problem?” Alpha asks as he flicks blood off his hand.

“Not to me.”

“Good.” He gazes at you for a moment and then moves so he’s almost pressed against you, and he ducks his head so that his face is only an inch away from yours, “I’m going to take great pleasure in making you mine, ad’ika. But I suppose we’d better get you safe first.”

“Yours?” You ask, unable to help yourself.

“Mine.” He confirms, “Did no one teach you about your responsibilities as a priestess?”

“Uh, I’ve been a prisoner since I was a toddler, and my education was very targeted.” You counter wryly.

He chuckles, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you. It’ll come naturally. That’s part of the binding that happens with the summoning. I just have to complete it.” He wipes his hands on a cloth that he got from somewhere, “Now, how many guards upstairs?”

“A couple dozen. Maybe more.”

“Easy then.” He drops the cloth and lightly grips your chin before he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You sigh into the kiss, and his lips curl up into the smile. “I suppose I’d better teach you all about sex too. I’m looking forward to it.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Yeah, probably.” You agree.

Alpha pulls away and turns to the stairs, and it’s only then that you realize that you can still hear the song. “Well then,” He murmurs as he glances at you, “Give hope to man, indeed.”

[bellaxgiornata]

Always Waiting for You [1: First Meetings]

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.4k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; fluff, pining, friends to lovers, slow burn, angst, canon typical violence, eventual smut, use of pet names & nicknames (no y/n)

Series Summary: In the beginning you'd been content helping your grandmother run Springwood, the quaint bed and breakfast she had owned and ran for most of her life. You'd grown a fondness for Springwood over the years, already having long since known your grandmother wished to eventually pass the bed and breakfast onto you. But the more you got to know the curious Winchester brothers every time they sporadically turned up to rent rooms, the more you'd begun to long for a little something more in your life. You soon found yourself becoming close friends with the brothers–even after finding out what they really did–and you easily found yourself falling for Sam. But the pair of you only ever remained close friends as the years passed by despite you always secretly holding onto the hope that he'd someday finally stop trying to protect you from himself and his life.

Tag List: @cheshirecat484 @stoneyggirl2

a/n: While Reader will not have a physical description or a name (other than nicknames and pet names), she will have a bit of a family history for the sake of the plot (since this is a long fic). I still like to keep things fairly vague so that readers can either pretend it's their family or pretend Reader was adopted at birth and are still able to insert themselves into the story if they want. With that out of the way, enjoy part one! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Hunched over the sink as the bright, late morning sun filtered in through the kitchen windows, you scrubbed at the pan you’d used earlier to make breakfast for the guests currently staying at Springwood. Omelets had been on today's menu and they had taken you a good portion of the morning to prepare and cook despite only having three guests who had stayed at the bed and breakfast this weekend. Though you didn't necessarily mind the extra work because you usually rose early in the morning everyday, always unable to fall back asleep because you felt a little restless. Which was why you often welcomed any opportunity to keep yourself busy at Springwood.

Focused on your current task, the warm, soapy water splashing over your bare hands, you were too deep in your thoughts to catch the sound of soft footsteps shuffling towards you over the scrubbing of your sponge. It wasn't until you'd heard a voice behind you that you realized you were no longer alone in the bed and breakfast’s kitchen.

“Relax there, honey bee, or you’re going to wear that poor pan out.”

Startled at your grandmother’s unexpected presence, you jumped at your place in front of the sink. In your surprise you had dropped the pan into the soapy water with a loud, messy splash. Looking over your shoulder, fresh soap bubbles now splattered across your face, you found your Nan grinning at you and shaking her head.

“You’re too uptight, bee,” she teased. “Always so in your head. I swear an elephant could sneak up on you sometimes.”

“Well you're certainly quieter than an elephant, Nan,” you countered, rubbing a forearm at the soap that had splattered on your face. “And I'm not entirely convinced you don't know some secret way to get around this place unnoticed.”

Your grandmother only smiled as she continued her way across the kitchen to you. Turning your attention back towards the pan you'd dropped in the sink, you picked it up along with your sponge and resumed your cleaning. 

“I could have taken care of the morning dishes, you know,” she told you. “You've been doing all the cooking and cleaning the past few months, honey bee. You're not leaving much for an old woman to tend to.”

You shot your grandmother a grin over your shoulder. “That's the point, Nan,” you replied. “You've done plenty over the years here. I'm completely capable of handling the load. It isn't like we're constantly booked to capacity or anything.”

“Well, no,” she agreed slowly. “But little bee, when was the last time you had a day off?”

Switching on the faucet, you rinsed the large pan underneath the spray. Watching the soap bubbles disperse, you shrugged at your grandmother’s question.

“I don't know,” you answered her, reaching over and setting the pan into the drying rack on the counter. “It's been awhile, I suppose.”

“Don't you think you should get out of this place more often?” she asked. “Spend some time with your friends? Maybe go on a date every once and awhile?”

Pausing mid-scrub of a plate, you turned and shot your grandmother a pointed look. “Nan, you ask me this like clockwork almost every four months,” you pointed out. “I'm fine . I actually like working here, you know. The guests keep me busy over the weekends, and the gardening, cleaning, and paperwork keeps me busy during the week. And in my downtime,” you continued, focusing back on washing the plate in your hands, “I've got plenty of books to read.”

Your grandmother padded over to the counter beside you, one of her hands raising up to lightly rest along your shoulder. Pausing once more when you felt her give you a gentle squeeze, you glanced down at her hand before your eyes eventually met hers.

“Don't you ever get lonely, honey bee?” she asked. “It's just the two of us here.”

“Well there's also the Johnsons,” you joked. “At least until morning check-out, that is.”

Nan released your shoulder, her hand playfully slapping your arm as she shot you a look. Though you could see the smile she was fighting back, the corners of her lips twitching.

“They've already checked out,” she told you. “Just before I came in here to find you. But you know what I meant, bee. You're far too young and full of life to be holed up in this place with me all the time. You should find yourself a nice man.”

Rolling your eyes, you opened your mouth to protest, but your grandmother quickly cut you off.

“Or a nice woman,” she amended with a cheeky grin. “You know I don't judge.”

Shaking your head, you focused on rinsing off the plate in your hands before adding it to the drying rack beside the pan. “You worry too much about me,” you told her. 

“Someone ought to,” she replied. “I'm an old woman. Someday I won't be around and I don't want to think about you being here all by yourself.”

“Then I'll get a cat,” you teased. “And then I won't–”

The sound of a loud, growling engine roared over your words, drowning them out. At first the noise was just a distant rumble, your brows drawing together as you tried to place where the sound was coming from. But it didn’t take long for you to realize that the sound was quickly growing nearer, clearly coming from a car making its way up the winding drive to Springwood. 

Almost simultaneously, both you and your grandmother leaned over the counter towards the kitchen window above the sink, peering out at what you could see of the driveway. It was a moment before you spotted a black muscle car through the trees that lined the long drive. The pair of you silently watched as the car gradually made its way along the path, heading to the front of the bed and breakfast. 

“Well you don't see that every day,” Nan muttered, her voice just audible over the roar of the car’s engine. “Not ‘round here at least.”

“No,” you whispered, transfixed by the car glinting in the sunlight as it drove, the plate in your hands temporarily forgotten, “you certainly don't.”

“Wasn't expecting anyone to be checking in on a Sunday, either,” Nan said. “Suppose whoever that is will keep us busy for a bit.”

After a moment, the car disappeared from view and you remembered the plate in your hands. Focusing back on it, you turned the faucet on and ran it under the warm spray. As the soap washed away, you felt your grandmother lightly pat your shoulder. At the feel of her touch, you looked over at her in time to see her turning and making her way out of the kitchen.

“I'll go greet our new guests, bee,” Nan called back to you. “Maybe you can come help them find their rooms?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “I'll just wash up these last few dishes from this morning and I'll be right out.”

After your grandmother had disappeared, you’d spent the next couple of minutes cleaning the last few pieces of silverware, your hands moving quickly and efficiently. Once finished, you dried off your hands and hurried out of the kitchen, making your way down the long hall towards Springwood's foyer in order to help Nan with the new guests that had just arrived.

As you headed down the hallway, passing by the entrances to Springwood's dining room, library, and sitting room, you'd expected to overhear your Nan talking to an older couple. Considering the type of car you'd seen pull up, you found yourself surprised when it sounded like the voices of two younger men speaking with her. When you grew near enough to the bed and breakfast’s foyer, you couldn't help but overhear their conversation. 

“...such a nice little town,” Nan had been saying. “I hope you'll be enjoying your stay here.”

“Oh, I'm sure we will,” a man's voice politely replied. “Though we'll probably be spending most of our time in the town over. In Arlington.”

“Arlington?” Nan repeated in mild surprise. “What's in Arlington that would have brought the pair of you boys out this way?”

Stepping out of the hall and through the archway that led into Springwood's entrance, you caught sight of the two young men who were currently checking into the bed and breakfast. Abruptly stopping short the second you actually saw them, you were taken by surprise as a soft gasp slipped out of you. Standing frozen in the doorway, your feet rooted to the spot, you saw both men’s attention shift from your grandmother behind the front desk and over to you. The shorter of the pair’s gaze quickly began to size you up, his eyes scanning you over from top to bottom. Beside him, the taller one sent you a friendly smile in greeting. You couldn’t help but notice something warm and comforting in the way his eyes held your own, something about him easily drawing a smile from you back at him.

These men looked absolutely nothing like the usual guests who stayed at the bed and breakfast. For starters, they were incredibly attractive–which felt like a vast understatement. They looked as if they'd walked straight out of some magazine advertisement even if they weren't dressed in anything out of the ordinary. And besides how noticeably handsome they were, they also weren't here with a family, nor were they an older couple clearly in their retirement years enjoying their free time traveling. Those were generally the type of guests you had staying at the bed and breakfast regularly, not insanely attractive young men. You'd also thought it was strange that they'd shown up at the end of the weekend when Springwood's guests typically checked in at the beginning of one. You found yourself instantly intrigued by the pair of these strangers, wondering why they'd chosen to stop here and not at the Hilton that was twenty minutes away in Bridgeport–a significantly larger and more exciting city. 

“We're here for work, actually,” the one with cropped blonde hair answered, focusing back on your Nan. “It tends to take us to all sorts of places across the country.”

“Oh does it?” Nan said conversationally, sliding the keys to their rooms across the desk. “And what is it you gentlemen do for work?”

“We uh,” the blonde began, pausing to clear his throat. “We–we work for a magazine.”

“A small travel magazine,” the one with slightly longer dark hair quickly added. “It’s uh, it’s not a very big magazine. At the moment, at least.”

One of your brows quirked up onto your forehead at the way in which they'd responded. They hadn't sounded so sure of themselves in their answer. Almost as if it was a lie. But why would they have lied about their job? And why would a travel magazine be interested in anything out in a small town like Pine Ridge or Arlington?

As you found yourself growing even more curious about the men and their strange response, you couldn’t help but continue to stare at the taller of the pair. He towered over the other man beside him, a seemingly genuine smile on his face as he focused on Nan. Your fingers itched to brush away some of the dark wisps of hair falling into his eyes the longer you studied him. You also couldn’t help but notice the way his navy tee-shirt clung to the front of his chest beneath the baggy, brown jacket he was wearing. 

You couldn't quite place what it was about him, but you found yourself struggling to tear your eyes away from him the longer the pair stood there. Maybe it was the friendly smile he'd initially sent you accompanied by the set of adorable dimples on his cheeks, or maybe it was the unexpected gentleness that seemed to be radiating from him despite the other man's self-assured–and possibly arrogant–demeanor. Either way, your eyes were oddly drawn to him.

Until he glanced back at you when you heard your Nan give them your name in way of introduction and he'd caught you staring. 

Smiling sheepishly back at the pair of them, you forced yourself to straighten your posture and clear your throat. You were supposed to be a professional when it came to working with the guests after all–even if they were two painfully attractive guests. You should have known better than to be staring.

But you could certainly act normal. Because you didn't have a choice not to, not with them staying here. Especially not if they actually did work with a travel magazine. You didn’t need a bad review of Springwood getting around because it would kill the business.

“My granddaughter here can show you gentlemen to your rooms,” Nan's voice said, breaking through your thoughts. 

She turned and sent you a smile from behind the front desk, but the mischievous glint in her eyes didn't escape your notice. No doubt you'd get an earful later about how attractive they were and whether she thought they were possible suitors instead of just traveling guests who'd be gone from your lives before you knew it. A conversation you were already not looking forward to later.

“Though maybe first you'd like to show them around Springwood a little, honey bee?” she suggested. “You know, let them get acquainted with the place.”

With a sigh, you plastered your most professional smile onto your face before waving a hand at the two men. “If you'd like to follow me this way, I can certainly give you both a brief tour of Springwood’s main floor before showing you to your rooms.”

The blonde suddenly grinned wide at you, the cocky confidence you’d picked up on from him rolling off of him in waves now. The intensity of it had you biting your tongue and refraining from making a comment as you continued to keep your practiced, professional smile on your face instead. Though you were still fighting to keep your eyes from returning to the taller and more attractive of the two. 

“We'd certainly love to follow you,” the blonde replied, shooting the man next to him a little smirk. “Wouldn't we?”

Your expression faltered at his tone, your head tilting a bit to the side. It had sounded as if there had been something else intended in his words, a double meaning that almost seemed inappropriate, though you weren't entirely sure. But your suspicions were confirmed when the brunette roughly elbowed the blonde in return, sending you an awkward smile as he did. 

“Sure, we'd love a tour,” the brunette said. “That sounds like it’d be helpful.”

Eyes narrowing, you curiously studied them for a second longer, taking in the wounded look on the blonde's face as he rubbed his side. Beside him, the taller one was shooting you a strained, polite smile. Choosing to ignore the question dying to spring out of you, you turned and headed back into the hallway. Behind you, you heard the heavy footsteps of both men following after you. 

“So down this hallway,” you began as you walked, “you'll find a lot of the main areas our guests enjoy here during their stay at Springwood. The first room to your right is our sitting room, which is also where you'll find the staircase that leads us up to Springwood's second floor, and that’s where our guest bedrooms are located.”

You came to a stop beside the entrance to the biggest room on the main floor of the bed and breakfast, gesturing a hand at the doorway that led into the sitting room. Both men glanced inside, examining the space that was filled with a few cozy sofas situated around a fireplace. 

“There's also a door that leads to the back garden just through this room,” you told them. “It tends to be a nice, peaceful spot where guests often enjoy doing some work or catching up on reading. Or even having a morning coffee. Though,” you continued, turning and heading further down the hall as the men followed behind you, “we also have a small library that some guests like to use as a quiet place to focus on work while they’re here, too.”

Stopping in front of the next room on your left, you once more gestured inside. This room was one you personally spent a lot of time in yourself when the bed and breakfast was empty. Usually you would curl up on the sofa with a book and a blanket, spending rainy days reading when you couldn't enjoy the garden outside.

“You both might find the space useful if you're here for work and want to get out of your room for a bit,” you told them. “There's a couple of desks inside and a printer you’re welcome to use. It's pretty quiet in there. And then further down this way,” you said, turning and leading the pair a few more steps down the hall as you continued on your tour, “is a place you may want to remember. In here is Springwood's dining room.”

You came to a stop in front of the dining room on your right, watching as both men once more craned their necks for a look inside. It was a fairly large room with a few different sized tables meant to accommodate couples and families alike, though when it wasn't tourist season–like right now–it was often depressingly empty and quiet. 

“We serve breakfast here between eight and ten every morning,” you informed them. “There's a daily breakfast menu in your rooms, but when it's off season for tourists during winter and spring months, I'm open to taking suggestions for other things. Given enough time to prepare, of course.”

The blonde turned his attention back on you, a devilish grin lighting up his face. “Open to suggestions, huh?” he asked, his tone once again hinting at something else. “I like the sound of that. I could definitely think of a few things I'd like to suggest, you know?”

Both of your brows slowly rose upwards as you stared back at him in disbelief, unsure how this man could be making such blatant innuendos if he was here on business and representing a travel magazine. Especially with his colleague standing right next to him. Something certainly didn't seem to add up with their story, not with their strange behavior since you'd met them. But before you could say anything, you saw the taller of the pair once more sharply elbow him in the side.

“Dean,” he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

You noticed the way the blonde shot the other an insulted look, something far too familiar passing between them to just be colleagues. They definitely didn't seem to be acting like a pair of professionals on a business trip. 

With an awkward chuckle, the brunette sent a nervous smile back at you. “Sorry about my brother,” he apologized, “he has a habit of saying whatever pops into his head without thinking first. It’s something he should probably work on.”

“So you're…brothers?” you asked, eyes jumping between the both of them. “Brothers that happen to both work at the same travel magazine? That's interesting.”

At your comment, the pair abruptly exchanged a look with each other. Wordlessly you watched them, carefully scrutinizing the way it appeared as if they were silently communicating with each other. You caught how the blonde roughly shook his head at his brother, the movement small but just enough for you to have picked up on it. The brunette's eyes had gone a bit wide in response before they seemed to be pointedly glaring back at him.

“What travel magazine did you say you two worked for?” you questioned, interrupting whatever moment they were having. “And I also don't think I ever caught either of your names now that I think about it.”

The pair broke out of their silent conversation, both of them shifting awkwardly on their feet as their attention returned to you. You couldn’t help but notice that the smiles on their faces once more looked oddly strained. Despite knowing better than to pry too hard with guests, you found yourself desperately wanting to learn more about them and what it seemed like they were hiding. 

“We are brothers,” the brunette confirmed. He raised a hand, pointing to himself as he said, “I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean.” 

He gestured over his shoulder at the shorter blonde, your eyes following his hand’s movements. Dean was standing there shooting you what you presumed was meant to be a charming smile, but you weren’t remotely charmed by it. 

“We both work for, uh–” Sam continued, though he quickly broke off.

Gaze drawn back towards him when he’d spoken, you watched as his face scrunched up as if he was in thought. Beside him, Dean let out a faint chuckle, lightly slapping his brother on the arm.

“We work for a magazine called The Open Road , but my brother here is new. I just recently got him a position,” Dean’s smooth voice explained. “He often forgets the name of the magazine because he’s just…so new. You know?” He turned and shot his brother a look. “Isn’t that right, Sammy?”

Sam forced a smile onto his face as he nodded, the gesture looking a little stiff. “Right,” he agreed. “I’m uh, I’m quite new to the magazine. This is actually my first assignment. So it's…all new.”

“Oh,” you replied slowly, still scrutinizing them carefully as you made a mental note to look into the magazine later. “That must be nice. I imagine getting to travel for work is exciting.”

Dean laughed lightly, something glinting in his eyes as he did. “You have no idea how right you are.”

Ignoring the strangeness of his comment, you decided to focus on finishing the tour instead of being too noticeably nosey. They’d probably stop giving up too much truthful information so freely if you didn’t. 

You took a moment to point out the first floor restrooms across from the dining room before leading the men back down the hallway from which you’d initially come. As you led them towards the sitting room, you overheard them sharing some hushed words behind you, but they were speaking far too quietly for you to be able to really make out anything they were saying. And admittedly, you’d been trying.

“So your rooms are just upstairs,” you explained as you approached the staircase. “And once we reach those that’ll basically conclude our little tour.”

Making your way up the stairs, one hand trailing along the banister, you noticed both men were now quiet behind you. When you finally reached the landing on the second floor, you found yourself a little disappointed that the brief tour was already over because it meant you had no more reason to continue to try to unravel whatever mystery seemed to be hanging over these brothers. And it certainly seemed like there was something more to them than what they were letting on. 

“These will be your rooms for your stay with us at Springwood,” you said, pointing out the two doors to your right marked with a number one and two. “If there’s anything else I can help you both with during your stay, please don’t hesitate to ask. My grandmother and I are always somewhere on the property.”

“Thank you so much for the tour,” Sam told you, adjusting the duffle bag on his shoulder. “But I think you’ve been quite helpful enough already. We won't take up anymore of your time this morning.”

You sent him a polite smile and a single nod before turning, but you’d only managed to take a single step before you heard Dean call your name behind you. Immediately you stopped at the sound of his voice, glancing over your shoulder at him. 

“You said breakfast ended at ten,” he began, “and we’ve had a long drive. Is there anywhere you could recommend close by for us to grab some food? Either breakfast or lunch? We’re basically starving.” 

“Certainly,” you replied, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as another opportunity to pry more answers out of them seemed to present itself. “There’s Rosie’s Diner a couple of miles down the road in Pine Ridge’s downtown,” you said, turning back towards them. “There's also a couple of fast food joints out that way, too. And Cast Iron Cafe. Or if you’re both not interested in driving anymore this morning,” you continued, trying not to sound overeager, “I’d be more than happy to scramble up some eggs and fry up some bacon?”

Sam held up a hand immediately, shaking his head. “Oh no,” he said, “we couldn’t possibly ask you to make us breakfast. Especially after hours.”

Dean’s head snapped to the side instantly. “Dude!” he exclaimed. “She offered.”

“Really, it’s no trouble,” you assured the pair. “Like I said, it’s off season for tourists right now. So both of you are our only guests at the moment. Honestly you’d be giving me something to do.”

“Eggs and bacon sounds perfect,” Dean replied, a big grin on his face. “And then I could use a nap. A long, long nap after all of that driving.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother before he shot you an apologetic look. You couldn’t help but admire the warmth in his eyes as he did, but then you quickly mentally scolded yourself for even thinking that. He was a guest, after all. Just a guest. One who’d be gone before you knew it, even if he and his brother were piquing your interest with their unusualness. Because that was all it was drawing you to him–their unusualness.

“I’ll let you both get settled in then,” you said, turning and beginning to make your way down the stairs. “If you head down to the dining room in about twenty minutes, I’ll have a couple of plates of food ready for you both.”

You were nearly halfway down the stairs when you overheard Dean behind you whispering to Sam, his voice just loud enough for you to catch what he’d said.

“Dude, this place is awesome,” he enthused. “We should definitely come back here.”

As you continued your way down the stairs, you couldn’t fight the growing, pleased smile on your lips, grateful they couldn’t see your face at the moment.

[groovy-heels297]

Chef's hat

(I'm a slut for dialogue. I will not apologize)

Read on A03 (no presh)

👨‍🍳🍳

"Hey, Tommy?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you know there's a hundred folds in a chef's hat?"

"A hundred?"

"A hundred."

"Huh."

...

"That's all you can say?"

"What else is there to say?"

"Don't... don't you want to know 𝘸𝘩𝘺 there's a hundred folds?"

"Naturally."

"But you didn't ask..."

"I... alright. Why does a chef's hat have a hundred folds, Evan?"

"Well-"

"Tell me, please! I'm so enamored."

"Wooow. I'm not telling you now."

"What? Why?"

"Respect the facts, Kinard."

"Mmm... fine." Tommy rolls over on top of Evan. "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 tell me about the folds in a chef's hat and their reasoning. I'm on the edge of my seat."

"... we're in bed."

"It's metaphorical."

Evan sighs, fond smirk on his lips.

"There's a hundred folds in a chef's hat to represent a hundred ways to cook an egg."

"That's... that can't be true."

Tommy rolls away and Evan sits up.

"Why would I lie about that?"

"I didn't say 𝘺𝘰𝘶 lied. Have you been on Wikipedia again?"

"Wiki- have you met me? Wikipedia is a trash site."

"Okay, well, there's no way you can cook an egg a hundred different ways, and honestly.... why would you 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 to?"

"Why? Uh... variety? Experience? ... fun?"

"Fun?"

"Fun."

"You think cooking a hundred different versions of an egg is... fun?"

"Not necessarily... but it is 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦."

"By that logic, sure. Technically 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 is possible, Evan."

Evan begins listing off all the ways to cook an egg.

"There's boiled, scrambled, fried..."

"The trifecta."

"Poached, baked, basted..."

"Fancy."

"Coddled."

"... coddled?"

"Yeah. Coddled."

"How the hell do you coddle an egg?"

"Well-"

"Give it a pillow? A kiss to its shell before you crack it?"

"What?"

Tommy laughs. Evan rolls his eyes and flops down dramatically on the bed.

"I hate you."

"Pfft, no, you don't. Tell me all the other ways, Buckley, so I can go to sleep. When do you walk the egg?"

Evan ignores that.

"There's mayonnaise."

"Wait."

"Cakes, quiche, omelets..."

"That's just cheating."

"Cheating? How?"

"When you say that there's a hundred ways to cook an egg, you can't include full-blown recipes."

"You absolutely can!"

"But... okay, well, 𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 wouldn't that just be sorta like... ninety different ways to utilize a scrambled egg?"

Evan opens his mouth to disagree, but...

"Wait. That's... no... your lack of belief isn't going to detour me."

"You mean my logic?"

"I mean your inability to be wrong."

Tommy smirks at Evan.

"Sooo, my ability to be... right?"

A pause. Evan reaches for his phone, unlocking the screen with determination.

"What are you doing?"

"Ordering ten dozen eggs."

"It's one in the morning, Evan."

"So?"

"𝘚𝘰?"

"Eggs can't be bought after midnight now?"

"... I don't want some poor delivery person to have to juggle ten dozen eggs at one in the morning."

"So, what? Is five in the morning more appropriate?"

Tommy stares at his absolutely serious boyfriend.

"Make it nine, and I'll coddle your eggs 𝘧𝘰𝘳 you."

Evan laughs, putting his phone away before burrowing himself against Tommy.

"I love you."

"A hundred different ways?"

"I'm still counting."

[guccixstyless]

Hii 💛💛,sound very odd but can you a imagine where the reader & Ryu shi oh have kids, a cute lil family.

A Sunday At Ryu Household

Pairing: Ryu Shio x Reader (married)

Word Count: 885 Words

A/N: Thank you for requesting this one shot, hope you like it!

************************************************************************

The kids: Twin Boys (Kai, Sooho -aged 7 years), One girl (Mirae -aged 5 years) and One boy (Timmy- aged 3 years)

-

The sunlight filtered through the curtains signaling another new day. Y/N stirred awake and felt the space between her to be empty, she was confused, where was her husband?

She reluctantly got up from bed and headed downstairs, the aroma of something delicious filled her nose as she approached the kitchen.

There was Shio, wearing an apron over his last night's pyjamas. The apron was a gift from his kids from father's day. It had "Best Daddy In The World" written in blue color with bold arial font. Shio loved it and wore it whenever he cooked.

"Hello mister," Y/N said leaning on the kitchen door.

"You're awake," Shio smiled over his shoulder looking at you.

Y/N went closer to him and he flipped the pancake before placing it on a plate. It was already stacked with lots of pancakes. He then turned off the stove before turning towards her.

"Good morning love, did you sleep well?" he spoke softly while tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Like a baby!" she smiled.

"Go wake up the kids, I'm making a special breakfast," Shio smiled.

"What's the occasion for this special breakfast?" Y/N wondered.

"Does there need to be one? Every day with you is special." Shio winked.

"So cheesy," Y/N snickered.

"Only for my love," he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before returning on making omelets.

"Smells so good, I will get the kids," Y/N said.

Shio was done plating and set the table up. He made nutella filled pancakes, cut up some fruits, made omelets, fried sausages and mushrooms, and made freshly squeezed orange juice.

Shio looked at the table proudly before setting the plates.

"Daddy!" Shio heard little voices and the smile on his face grew wider.

"Oh are we having pancakes?" Kai asked excitedly.

"Yes we are!" Shio smiled. Y/N came behind them while holding their youngest son Timmy.

Kai, Sooho and Mirae took a seat in the table beside each other, Y/N put Timmy in the highchair before going to sit beside Shio.

Shio served them all the food items before saying, "Dig in!"

The family sat down and enjoyed a delightful Sunday breakfast. Kai and Mirae shared stories from school. Sooho talked about his friends.

As the day unfolded, the family engaged in various activities. Shio, being the doting father he was, played games with the kids, their peals of laughter echoing through the house. Y/N watched with a heart full of joy as Shio chased the little ones around, their giggles creating a melody of happiness.

Shio helped them build blocks buildings. Kai and Sooho began running, so Shio gently warned them, "Be careful with those blocks, okay?"

The kids were very tired yet happy by lunch time. After a hearty meal, the kids went for a quick nap. Shio and Y/N enjoyed a cup of coffee while enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the house

"Do you remember when I proposed?" Shio reminisced fondly.

"Of course, the way you planned a scavenger hunt, it was truly iconic," Y/N giggled while twirling her wedding band.

"I was so nervous, I yelled at my poor secretary because you were running late," Shio recalled.

"Such a meanie you are, that man adores you though," Y/N smiled.

"Yeah at this point he is family too," Shio chuckled.

-

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the living room, the family settled down to watch a movie. Shio lounged on the sofa, Y/N nestled against him, their children sprawled across the floor with blankets and pillows. Timmy was on his portable cradle.

"Best part of the day, isn't it?" Shio said softly.

"Absolutely. Sundays are my favorite when we're all together like this." Y/N smiled.

Shio wrapped his arm around Y/N, pulling her closer. The kids, feeling the cozy atmosphere, snuggled against their parents. The movie played on, but the real show was the love and togetherness that enveloped the room.

-

After the movie was finished, the couple took their children and bathed them before tucking them all in bed.

Y/N went to put Mirae in bed while Shio took care of the twins.

Shio tucked them in, placing gentle kisses on their foreheads before turning off the bedside lamp.

Y/N met Shio in the hallway and intertwined their hands before both of them happily walked to their room.

After their nightly skincare routine both of them crawled to bed. Exhaustion from the day finally kicking in. They both lie in bed facing each other.

"Today was perfect, wasn't it?" Shio whispered, as he stroked Y/N's cheek lovingly.

"It really was. Thank you, Shio, for making every day feel like a Sunday." Y/N whispered before placing a small kiss at the palm of Shio's hand.

Their lips met in a sweet, lingering kiss, a silent acknowledgment of the love that had blossomed and flourished over the years. Shio pulled Y/N into a warm embrace, the quiet intimacy of the moment speaking volumes.

"I love you Y/N, so so much," Shio said as they broke from the kiss.

"I love you too," Y/N smiled.

With a smile and contentment in their hearts, the couple drifted to sleep.

Link to another angst Ryu Shio story