#it'll rot out your teeth

[colleenbabola]

Spoilers to RWRB:

Enchanted by Taylor Swift has to be THE perfect song to sum up both Henry and Alex. Every lyric literally is almost exactly how their story went down in Red White and Royal Blue. From the beginning of how they first met, and when they were at Philips wedding with the caketastrophe, and how Alex would pace with Henry in his thoughts, Henry literally getting flustered almost every time Alex was around, how Henry is such a softie, how their presences together literally melted away all the problems in the moment. This whole song could be in Henry's POV.

Every bone in my body tells me he would definitely sing a song to Alex about how he was enchanted to meet him. This man spent years hiding how he felt for Alex, barely getting any sleep, constantly wondering when he would see Alex again. I mean even the part in the song when it says, "Please don't be in love with someone else" I feel would be how Henry might have felt when thinking Alex was in love with Nora at first, after seeing them kiss at the New Years Eve party and running away. Enchanted is literally their theme song and I will stand by this for as long as I live.

Perfect is also THE perfect song for Henry and Alex. Literally the whole song explains their adventures together. This would be in Alex's POV. I can seriously see him singing this to Henry, and with Alex being a bit more outgoing and devious, this song matches his vibe. And I can't explain just how fucking perfect the chorus is for them, as they quite literally did all these things together and they were some of their biggest moments.

Henry's song is a bit more laid back and sweet, while Alex is straight with it, letting him know EXACTLY what they would be doing together.

They are my comfort characters and their relationship is so fucking sweet. They go through so much shit just to be together and I'm all here for it. Might go and reread the book now <3

[leorizanzel]

A short piece in response to the prompt "Mandalorian Courting Rituals/Wedding Dates" for Day 6 of DinLuke Positivity Week 2022. @dinlukepositivityweek

[oceantornadoo]

(simon riley x f!reader, same rank!)

violence, cod inaccuracies, reader is a badass

simon riley never calls you baby

until he does.

you tell him it has to stay hidden. you can't be known as "the girl fucking the lieutenant", no matter if you're the same rank as him, the same sweat and tears put into the job. it scares you, the thought of losing decades of hard work over some stupid fling with a man they call ghost. a man who brings you tea on your sick days, a man with soft eyes and a listening ear, the only man who's ever brought you to orgasm. the push and pull of your autonomy and your love is ever growing, that bone deep fear rooted in your marrow.

simon's scared too. scared of waking up and it's all a dream. scared that his enemies will find out, scared that it'll show he isn't so dead after all. he's been a rotting thing on earth for nearly four decades and he's comfortable with it; no matter how alive you make him feel. his hand on your waist feels right, but he can't bring his heart into the light.

so you call each other "lieutenant." maybe "riley" when he pisses you off, just to get under his skin. "dove" is rare, but it warms you up just the same, gives you an unbidden vision of hot chocolate and snow days. mainly its "l.t.", remnant of johnny, the respect and friendliness woven together sweetly. you murmured "babe" to him once, in the early morning when he sneaks out, and felt his shoulders bunch, the weight of it too much to bear. that was the end of pet names, or so you thought.

--

it's a foggy day on what becomes the worst night of your life. the mission is at a standstill, the intel outdated. you were supposed to be taking out a terrorist organization, blowing up the base of their operations, but instead the building is damp and abandoned, echoes of life the only sign they were here. price is in your ear, telling you to clear one last room and retreat, simon already on his way out. you nudge your way into the room with caution, years of practiced steps coming to you on instinct. for some reason, you don't catch the glint of a stranger's eye in a hidden corner. you don't see the rope in his hands, the knife between his teeth. the next thing you see is the floor, fog seeping over concrete as rough hands gag you and mutter promises of ungodly harm.

something's wrong. "price." simon murmurs soft and low, crossing out of the building to the tree cover below. "where is she? s'pposed t' be out by now." he's scanning the building through his scope, looking for that figure he knows so well, could find blind. "copy. 'er tracker says she's still in the buildin'. let's-" there's a piercing scream in the air. the ravens take flight from the trees. dark wings, dark words. "ghost-" "goin' in." a sigh on the other end. he can practically feel price's hesistancy but he doesn't care, heavy feet already moving back into the building. "you're goin' in blind, radar's jus' gone out." he swears under his breath, clearing hallway after hallway as the building falls back into silence. just as he comes upon a 4-way split, you scream again, the sound far away and to his left. "'m comin' dove, hold on." there's no gunfire, no sounds of fight. it's so eerie he thinks he might have dreamed it, his worst nightmare come true. his instincts lead the way, some knowledge of your location hidden in his blood. pop. finally a gunshot, and if he squints hard, he tries to imagine it being from your weapon. he's close, nostrils expanding at the scent of you, memorized even without your favored perfume.

there were four of them. you still can't believe you missed them, the thought in the back of your head as you fight for your life. scrambling from the rope one tries to force on you, becoming an eel as you slip out of their grasps. this is what you do, what you're trained for. until someone stomps down hard on your ankle, the force of it cracking straight through. you scream, can't help it, searing pain blinding your vision for precious seconds. they take advantage of it, gloved hands tying your own behind your back in a tight knot. you can't reach your comms so you scream again, this one out of frustration, desperation that your team, that simon, might not find you.

the big one shuts you up with a hand to your throat, a bruising grip that leaves you unable to speak. they aren't well trained, fumbling hands and shaky grips, and you're finally able to reach your holster, shooting the first between the eyes before you can even glimpse his face. now you're in your element, adrenaline covering the pain of your ankle as you fight back, shooting one after the other, digging out your knife for close combat. it's over in a blink, the men no match for your skills, and once you double check they're dead, you collapse in the corner, the pain of your ankle roaring. that's when you hear it.

"baby?" it's him (but it can't be). he's never called you that. you pretend not to see when he whispers it into your neck as you feign sleep, when he murmurs it in a grunt as he's deep in your cunt. he's never said it to your face. "baby!" it's definitely him, that gruff voice cutting across the fog. you whine out of frustration, your throat too sore from your attacker to call out. instead, you limp to the door, almost running into simon as he comes crashing into your own personal hell. he sweeps you into his arms and you let him, grabbing his shoulders to make sure he's real.

"y' hurt?" he takes a look around the room, at the carnage in your wake. "my brave girl." you're sobbing, unsure whether its from frustration or relief. still can't believe you got caught, feeling like such a stereotype to have your knight in shining armor rescue you. "handled them all y'rself, hm, baby?" he's all sweetness and it hurts, seeing his eyes swell in pride as he takes in the four dead men, gunshots and a knife sticking out of one's eye. "why- why are you calling me that, simon?" he's ushering you out, your arm around his neck as you limp towards freedom. "proud of you." he says it simply, eyes trained on potential threats, not watching your reaction.

"aye, i told you, gaz. ye owe me a drink." soap's voice crackles through the comms. they were on. which meant your team heard the whole thing, heard simon practically claim you, knew you were together, thought you were a slu- "she's too good for him. i don't believe it." gaz's voice replied. "bugger off." simon grumbled into the mic, the sounds of them snickering loud and clear. "good?" he turned back at you, stopping you before you approached the clearing where your team waited. his eyes told you something different, that he'd walk out of here right now if you wanted. the cock of his head meant he'd follow you anywhere, live off the lamb for decades if you wanted. that was all you needed to know. you nodded and pushed forward. "yeah, i'm good, baby."

--

this is SO CRINGE but it's been in my drafts forever and needed to start paying rent

[erwinsvow]

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

summary: hiding your relationship with rafe from your friends is fun... at first.

word count: 2k

now spinning: freak by lana del rey

author's note: this one put me in a silly mood <3 i love this man <3 so cute it'll rot your teeth! enjoy!

He’s a bad habit. Your worst habit, in fact, one that you hide from everyone like a dirty secret.

At first you’re just embarrassed. You’re supposed to be a Pogue, you try to remind yourself every now and then, you’re supposed to hate him and everything he stands for.

You’re supposed to hate the pretty jewelry he buys for you on a whim, hate the stupid—or something like that— look in his eyes when he puts it on you and presses a kiss to the soft skin of your neck or wrist or ankle, and you’re especially supposed to hate the way he spends money on you. 

You’re supposed to hate all of it, but you don’t. In fact, you think you’re falling in love with Rafe Cameron.

Which is bad, so so bad, you don’t even have words to describe how terrible it is. Rafe—who your closest friends despise, and for good reason. He becomes an ass outside of the sheltered, private walls of your tiny bedroom, getting into fights and egging everyone into violence.

He’s completely different, like an entirely new person, and you should hate him for what he does to your friends and goads them into doing. 

Hate is the furthest thing from what you actually feel. You’re not even embarrassed anymore. You’re protective, because you know your friends won’t understand, that they’ll try to talk you out of your feelings, and you’ll have to show them the thing that you’re dreading the most of all, that you would defend Rafe to them. That you would take his side.

That you would become that girl you used to make fun of, screaming at your friends because you don’t know him like I do, and then running home, running to him, to feel better.

It’s gotten bad, and to avoid all of this, you don’t bring up your relationship to them at all. What started off as chance encounters and graduated into quiet, peaceful hours spent in each company without another care in the world, has now turned into a real relationship. A secret relationship, at that. 

Rafe wants to tell the world, and he especially wants to tell your friends. You convince him that it’s romantic to sneak around, with plenty of hidden kisses and longing gazes and making a fool out of everyone right in front of their eyes.

He buys the act for now, but you know he won’t for long. You think that he wants to rub it into your friends’ faces, that he got you despite how much they hate him. He doesn’t tell you it’s because he has to know, has to be sure that you aren’t ashamed of being with him.

𝜗𝜚

The first time you almost get caught is in Rafe’s truck—parked along the beach, in what was meant to be a cute little date. You pack sandwiches and fruit, freshly squeezed lemonade in a mason jar that you and him pass back and forth.

The two of you watch the sunset from the safety of his car, specifically because you’re worried your friends will catch you if they spot you on the beach with someone.

“This is good,” Rafe says, taking another sip out of the jar, his lips shining with the sugary juice. You want to lick it clean, but you hold off for now. “Where’d you get it from, again?” 

“I made it, Rafe,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “We have a lemon tree in the backyard. My parents like to grow their own stuff.” 

“Well,” he says, licking his lips. Damn it, there goes your chance to sneak a kiss in and act like it was for some other reason. “You should make more. Shit’s good.”

“Then take me on another date. I’ll make you a whole pitcher.” 

“Our next date is gonna be way better than this,” is his response, looking down at his half-eaten, heart-shaped peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

He notices your eyes get big, like you’re upset, and immediately follows up his own sentence.

“Not that this isn’t perfect,” he says, resting the mason jar in the cupholder. “It is. Perfect. Couldn’t ask for more. I just meant, next time, you won’t have to pack anything or juice any lemons, like a restaurant. All you have to do is wear something pretty and show up.”

You smile, giddily. 

“You have some lemonade, right there,” you say, pointing to the side of his lip, leaning in for a kiss, just about to close your eyes, when you hear the unmistakable hoot that is your boys, as in your other boys. “Shit-” and you duck, head resting on Rafe’s thigh as you try to get out of their eye-sight. You don’t sit back up until you make Rafe triple-check the coast is clear.

“Y’know, if you wanted to get freaky in my car, all you had to do was ask-”

𝜗𝜚

The next time is a month later, a month of bliss and joy that you still haven’t told your friends about. Rafe came over to help you finish baking lemon squares, but really just creating a mess and kissing you with sugary, citrusy lips and flour-coated hands. 

You take turns showering to clean off, because as much as you would love to rinse off together, your shower is not like the one Rafe has in his Tannyhill bedroom, and sadly, barely big enough for one. You go first, washing your hair and complaining about icing remnants, and send Rafe in after you while you dry your hair. 

On his way in, he tells you not to get dressed just yet. You sit in anticipation, wrapped just in your towel, brushing your hair absentmindedly. You drop the brush on your foot when you hear three sharp knocks on your bedroom window.

Crap. 

When you turn to look, it’s just Kie, and you sigh a breath of obvious relief. You wouldn’t be able to manage lying to everyone, but if it’s just Kiara, you might be able to get away with it.

She climbs in through the window, lying flat on your bed and starting to explain what’s going on—her feelings for Pope and some old feelings for Jayj that are coming to the surface. You half-listen, feeling like a terrible friend, but your heart is currently showering in your tiny bathroom, probably complaining about the luke-warm water and thinking about all the things he’s going to do to you when he gets out.

“Is your shower running?” Kie asks, ever-observant. “Dude, that’s like, so bad for the environment.”

“Oh, I-” your brain turns to mush. “I just stepped out to brush my hair, I’m going right back in. I’m so sorry Kie, I’m so distracted today. You know, I-I hate wasting water.” You stare at her for a second, wondering if she bought it.

“I’m just glad you care. JJ and John B don’t even recycle their beer cans. I’ll come back later, then?” and you nod, maybe a little too excited. “Are you gonna finish showering now?” she questions, watching you linger by the door. 

“Yes! Yes, I am. Bye, Kie,” you say, opening the door and closing it quickly, hoping Rafe doesn’t speak up. You drop the towel and climb into the shower, clasping your hand over his mouth quickly. You wait to hear your window close, and then the noise of her car driving away.

“Y’know, kid, if you were feeling that impatient, all y’had to do was tell me,” Rafe says, leaning in for a hot, wet kiss.

𝜗𝜚

It all breaks down because JJ is like a walking metal detector, eyes flitting to anything shiny and new and the questions never-ending, even when you’re glaring at him. 

Rafe bought it for you. A gleaming, pretty silver bracelet with a little pink heart hanging off, complete with the letter R engraved on the back of the charm. You try to sneak it in with your other bracelets, the beaded ones Kie makes, the thread friendship bracelets all of you share in matching colors, and you even throw on a watch just so no one notices something new on your wrist. It doesn’t work.

“Wow,” JJ starts, letting out a whistle. You freeze instantly. “What’d you do, rob a Kook and not invite us?” He comes up closer, taking your wrist in his hand and raising it above and below, inspecting it. 

“No, no…” you trail off, mind going completely blank on how to explain this to your friends. All you can think about is the soft way Rafe kissed your wrist while helping you put it on, and the not-so-soft two hours you spent at Tannyhill after. “I, uh-”

“What, you found it?” Pope throws in, and you start to nod, even though your friends know you better than that. “Because you should really turn it in, I mean, they’ll get you for that-”

“Trust me, I would know,” John B says, coming around to look at it closer. “I feel I’ve seen that before.”

“Yeah, I bet all the Kook princesses have ‘em and compare with each other.” JJ puts on a goofy, high pitched voice that would normally make you laugh. “Mine’s silver. Mine’s gold. Actually, guys, mine’s encrusted with diamonds.” 

“You know how much child labor funds the entire jewelry industry? They have kids mining in caves-”

“But that would actually make sense, Kie, because, like, they’re so tiny they’re the only ones who can just like, sneak on in there with their little tools, and just like-” JJ imitates, what you can only assume, is a child mining for gold with his hands. 

“They can grow diamonds in labs now. It’s so unnecessary and dangerous,” Kie says, looking back at you. “We should burn it, so it goes back into the soil.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” JJ says, getting up and putting himself between you and Kie, like a barrier. “Why would we do that? We could probably go get a couple hundos for that thing. Y’know how much beer we can buy with that?”

“He’s got a point there,” John agrees. You’re speechless.

“Well, does it have any markings? Because if we just return it, the owner might give us a reward for finding it.” JJ scoffs.

“Yeah, right, they’d probably think we stole it.”

“Well, we did, that’s like the definition of-” you cut Pope off before you can stop yourself.

“I didn’t steal it!” It comes out like a yell, even though you don’t mean it, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I didn’t steal it, okay, it’s mine, so can we please just drop it?”

You notice the boys lock eyes with each other, eyes wide, probably wondering what just happened. You turn away from them to look at Kie, about to apologize because you know she’s totally right about the whole child mining thing, when you see her eyes are fixed on your wrist.

“R?” she questions. “What’s the R stand for?” 

You drop your hand to your side, eyes shutting on their own as you release a tight breath. You really have no idea how to get yourself out of this one, until a voice pipes up from behind you.

“Why don’t you idiots take a wild guess?” The voice belongs to your boyfriend, your secret boyfriend. You guess it’s not such a secret anymore.

JJ is the first to react, exactly like you thought he would, too.

“No, no, gross, gross!”

John B stares at you like you’ve just run over his puppy. Kie has her eyebrows raised like she’s questioning everything she ever knew about you. Pope’s eyes are wide like coins, fist clenched like he’s about to start swinging.

You let out another breath.

“Was that really necessary?” you ask, turning your head to question Rafe, standing right behind you, his arm hanging around your shoulder now. 

“Had to tell ‘em eventually, kid. Guess today’s the day,” and then he uses his hand to squeeze your cheeks together, giving you a sloppy kiss and waltzing off in the direction he came from.All you hear is JJ—gross, gross, gross!

[kometqh]

Return

╰┈➤ Ethan Landry x female reader

╰┈➤ Warnings; mentions of sexual harassment, cursing, angst turned to fluff, making out, ghostface! au, unedited

╰┈➤Summary: Ethan breaks up with you, and a couple of months later sees another guy trying to make moves on you - spoiler warning, it does not go well.

╰┈➤ Word count: 2,475k

╰┈➤ Part two

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

Hand pulling hand, giggles bounced off the brick walls surrounding the pair. They've done this before, many times, but this time it was different. Something was wrong. The lack of a spark in his eyes told her so, now it was replaced with a darkness. His laugh wasn't as hearty and carefree as all the other times, and his eyes didn't gravitate to hers as she spoke.

His footsteps came to a slow stop, her hand being tugged backwards. She looked back, expecting that big, toothy smile, but was met with none. Her own slowly dropped. 

"Eth? What is it?" She asked, breath heavy and heart thumping.

"I don't know if this is a good idea..."

One brow arched as she looked at him confused, eyes quietly asking him to elaborate. This was new, unusual. She didn't know what to say, she didn't know what he meant as her hand rose to his shoulder in concern.

The soft material under the pads of her fingertips brought a form of comfort to her, but that sad look in his eyes didn't evaporate at her touch.

"You know what I mean," He spoke after a moment, heaving a heavy breath, "Us. This isn't working out." He shook his head, thick locks of hair bouncing softly, as he cast his gaze to the side, avoiding the pain he knew he was beginning to cause.

A sigh escaped her lips, her teeth clenched with vigour as she looked up to avoid spilling any tears. This wasn't happening. He can't do this to me. She rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, a chill going down her spine as she thought, "Why are you doing this?"

"We both know this isn't working. It'll only end in us bothgetting hurt," He paused, inhaling deeply, "I don't love you."

She looked back to him, this time met with a hard and cold stare rather than the loving, teeth-rotting sweet look in his chocolatey eyes, as he removed his hand from hers. "W-what do you mean? Just two days ago you were on about how you can't stand being away from me!" She shouted, her blood pumping from her heart, up her spine and to her head at a furious pace, "What happened?  What changed your mind?"

Ethan shook his head, looking away as he bit on his cheek to hold back a smirk, ignoring the way his hands trembled lightly; not from fear, but from the nerves. At least that's what he told himself. Looking back up, that smirk was quickly wiped away as he saw the look in her eyes, the pain. She was trying to hold it all back, the pain and the anger and confusion all battling together as they fought to swim up to the surface. 

"Why are you doing this Eth?"

"I have to. It's best if we stop whatever this is."

"How do you know? Are you really thinking about what's best for me?" She asked, tilting her head gently to the side, trying to catch his gaze. She didn't want them to end. 

"Stop making this so difficult! I am doing what is best for me!" He shouted, hands drifting up to point at his chest, the abruptness of his movements almost causing him to hit her, "I don't give a fuck about what you want! Okay? This is over, we are over." He ended his speech in a gentler tone, eyes boring deep into her own with a certain coldness she'd never seen before - not from him anyway.

Tears quickly teased at her eyes, glassing over and blurring her vision as she took a shaky breath. With no words, she nodded her head and pushed past him, walking back towards the busy streets, "Y/n! Wait!" She could hear his voice shouting, but she ignored it, "Come back!" Continuing to walk away, she blended in with the crowds before he had the chance to catch up to her. 

She reached the house party Tara had told her about within 20 minutes. Her legs led her up the short flight of stairs, tear stains smudging the carefully put on mascara and eyeliner. She received a bunch of looks - at first confused, but people were quick to remember what day it was. Halloween. She trudged through the sea of sweaty bodies, small sobs fighting to escape her throat. 

There stood an island in the kitchen, full of red cups and bottles of different kinds of alcohol scattered all over, some empty some full. Carefully, she poured herself a drink, taking a sip as Tara approached her, eyebrows scrunched in concern.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Her voice, filled with worry, asked as the shorter girl stared at Y/n. 

"Yeah I'm all good." Y/n nodded her head, sending a small smile before continuing to drink, chugging the vodka as if her life depended on it. In some way it did, as the pain of a heartbreak cursed through her body, head to toe. 

This became a daily occurrence. She wasn't at parties 24/7, but she was drinking. She was drinking so much she felt invincible against all hangovers. Hours turned to days. Days turned to weeks, and weeks soon turned into two months. Ethan would always be there, watching silently as her personality diminished, became something else. She was transforming like a butterfly, yet her wings seemed to be clipped. It pained him to watch this, but there was nothing he could do, or would do.

Until the Christmas party. 

It wasn't the traditional friends gathering. No, it was yet another frat party, with a dress theme - Christmas movies. Chad had convinced Ethan to join the core four and Anika, all dressing as characters from Elf - Chad being the main character - to nobody's surprise. But Tara seemed to like that. The group knew they had something going on, but nobody dared to say a thing. Ethan himself was dressed as Walter, and the two roommates stuck close to each others sides, play fighting and downing shots over and over, until a light buzz struck Ethan's head, until Chad had disappeared into the crowds. 

Ethan walked around, stumbling past and bumping into people, muttering apologies under his breath. At some point along his journey, he forgot what he was even doing. His feet were moving on their own accord. 

And then he came to a halt, his gaze setting on her. She was swaying to the beat of the music, hair flowing, head moving from side to side as she enjoyed the music with a red cup in her hand. Pink and blue hues mixed across her skin and hair, making it seem as though she was the only one there. In other words, she was feeling herself. A small smile tugged at his lips, momentarily forgetting that Ethan couldn't have her any longer. 

He begun to move again, this time dancing his way through the crowd, eyes set on one person only. She was dressed in a mini red dress, white fluff coating the edges of it, a Santa hat loosely hanging on her head. She was dancing around with another girl, one from Ethan's class. That was until a tall man approached her, his hands gliding down her shoulders, to her waist, giving a gentle squeeze. His chest pressed against her back as he began to grind on her, either being blind to her attempts at pushing him away, or being ignorant, his lips planting harsh kisses to her neck. 

Then, his hands went further down, to her hips before she turned around, planting a harsh slap across his face, a frown gracing her beautiful features. Her shout echoed, but was quickly deafened by the music. 

That was Ethan's last straw.

Aggressively, he pushed past people. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, and in a fit of rage, upon closing the distance between himself and the scumbag, Ethan gripped him by the neck and shoved him away. A gasp left Y/n's lips as she turned around, feeling cold air attacking her skin as the stranger was ripped away. Her eyes widened as she saw Ethan going in for the hit, lunging at the guy with his fist, knocking him to the ground.

Her heart skipped a beat. A chill ran down her spine. Her lips parted in a silent cry as Ethan's foot made contact with the stranger's stomach, once, then twice and thrice. She gripped his arm and pulled, hauling him away from the scene and to the entrance of the house. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" She screeched at the top of her voice, stomping down the flight of stairs. The cold air hit her like a brick, and she was thankful for having a puffed up jacket. 

"What am I doing?! That bastard had his hands all over you!" Ethan shouted back, rolling his shoulders before rolling the sleeves of his blazer up, "I'm going back in there, and I'm gonna fuck him up." Ethan seethed out, the cold being nothing compared to the rage he felt as his mind flashed the images. 

Y/n smiled, her rage overcoming her as tears pooled in her eyes. 

"What do you think you're doing huh? You left me! So don't go around trying to fucking fight for me!" She shouted, coming closer to the male, her hands rising to push at his chest.

Goosebumps decorated the skin of his forearms at her touch, he gritted his teeth and stared right into her eyes. His heart fell at the tears that she spilled. He never wished to see her like this.

"I am trying to forget you, Ethan. So fuck off." She said, emphasising the words 'fuck' and 'off' through gritted teeth, jabbing him in the chest. They made eye contact, which turned into more of a staring contest as one waited for the other to back down. 

She wasn't having it, and decided she won when Ethan's posture slightly faltered. 

"Good." She said and whipped around, her hair slapping him in the face as she began to ascend the stairs, wishing to return to the warmth of the house. A warm hand gripped her bicep before she could take more than three steps, pulling her backwards, and making her heart skip a beat.

"Ethan what the fuck-" A kiss cut her off, his hands coming up to cup her face. She made a small attempt to move away, but one of his hands moved to grip the back of her neck, pulling her closer. His lips pleaded with hers, but received no reciprocation of the kiss. She was as still as a statue.

He pulled away with a sigh, leaning his forehead against hers as his eyes cast down. She waited patiently, lips pursed into a fine line as her heart beat rapidly and tears dripped down her cheeks.

Looking up, Ethan's heart broke at the sight. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Hold her. Kiss her, "I'm sorry." He whispered, maintaining eye contact as she hiccupped. She nodded her head, but said nothing in return, remaining silent. The only thing they could hear was the blasting of music from within the house, their hearts beating in sync as the two thought. 

"This isn't gonna work, Eth..." Muttering, she pulled away, gulping down her pain. Ethan's heart rate picked up at the sweet nickname - one he hadn't heard in what felt like decades. He shook his head, his hands moving from her face and neck down to her crossed arms. He gave them a gentle squeeze, eyes searching hers for any sort of hope. 

"Please... I made a mistake. Please take me back," He pleaded, eyes frantically moving as he tried to connect with her. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath, shaking her head in denial, "Please I will do anything love."

"Ethan. Step away. I'm not doing this tonight." She muttered, hand moving to wipe some stray tears away.

"No, I'm not letting you go. I can't stand the thought of a frat boy being with you, touching you - please." 

"You let me go before, you haven't done a single thing to get me back. Ever." She said calmly, gently gripping his hands and removing them from her shoulders, "Goodbye Ethan."

And with that, she began walking back inside, not daring to look at the one person she loved most, the one that betrayed her. But what she wasn't expecting was him running after her, spinning and pinning her against the doorframe, caging her between the doorframe and himself.

Eyes wide, she tried to push him away, but his hand had moved to pin her wrists too. His free hand stroked her chin, tilting it upwards so they could meet eyes, "I'm not letting you go." He murmured softly, voice velvety and smooth as his eyes searched hers, for some kind of softness. 

She said nothing, only gazing at him, lips parted in a silent 'oh' as her thoughts were running at top speed. What is this?

"Couldn't you have done this much, much earlier?" She asked softly, her eyes looking back and forth between his pleading puppy eyes and his parted lips, his tongue poked out for a second to glide over them in anticipation. He knew what she wanted and he would do anything to give it to her.

With that thought, he slowly neared her lips, "Can I?", he asked, looking to her eyes for permission. She gave the faintest nod of her head before their lips connected, Ethan's hands travelling downwards to caress her cheek. He let out a quiet groan, loving the way their lips fit so well together, the way her face fit right into his palms, how soft her lips were - he missed this feeling so bad.

Their lips moved in sync, so used to each others presence and movements, but neither wished to separate, until Y/n pulled away to catch some air, surprised as Ethan chased her lips with his own, his eyes hazed over and cheeks flushed with a pink tint. His thumb glided over her lower lip, pulling at it gently before letting go. He cleared his throat and moved slightly away, but Y/n followed, not ready to separate yet. 

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this..." She whispered softly, eyes searching his own.

Chuckling, Ethan nodded his head and twirled a strand of her hair in his fingers, "Yeah? Me too."

"Kiss me more then." Y/n smiled, latching her arms around his neck as she tiptoed, earning another chuckle before their lips connected again, both students grinning from ear to ear.

"Get a room!" Chad drunkenly shouted from behind, and the two broke away and ran giggling, hand in hand. 

Part 2

[aethes-bookshelf]

empty eyes, emptier words || astarion/tav/halsin

I've been stuck in BG3 hell since the game first came out. I'm still in there. I don't think I'll be coming out anytime soon, so have this piece of angst. If everything goes well, maybe I'll deliver on some devil fucking (ft. Haarlep & Raphael). But that's a big IF.

For now, take this. I wrote it in class. I was supposed to be paying attention, but I made this instead. Bon appétit.

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, tav straight up fucking dies

Pairing: astarion/tav/halsin

Wordcount: 1.4k

Summary: Orin knew exactly who to take to hit those troublesome True Souls the hardest. Their leader was the obvious choice - a chicken can only run so far if you take its head. Tav would make a beautiful sacrifice for Bhaal.

And if anyone came to try and get them back? All the better. Blood will flow either way. And what a sight it'll be.

[I made some changes to Orin's dagger. Now, whoever gets killed with it can't be resurrected. Or can they?]

ao3 link || part 2

Orin turned around at the first sound of footsteps. She brandished her dagger, her Netherstone embedded in the cold metal of the weapon. She was standing on the sacrificial altar at the center of the temple. Beneath her laid Tav, arms and legs bound. They were unconscious, fresh and old wounds littering their body. The little clothing they wore stuck to their skin, wet with blood. The smell of it hit Astarion like a club to the head. He hated how his mouth instantly watered, hunger rearing its ugly head.

‘I don’t smell Gortash’s rot on you,’ Orin said, crouching by Tav’s body. She dragged her blade across their skin. Fresh blood bubbled to the surface. Tav didn’t even flinch. They were barely breathing.

‘Did it think it could trick me? Did it think it could save?’ Orin taunted, her dagger stopping right over Tav’s heart. Astarion could hear its faint beating.

The heat of Karlach’s anger burned the air around her. ‘I hope you’re not about to do what I think you are. For your sake.’ Her massive ax sliced through the pungent air, tail swishing behind her.

Halsin didn’t speak, but his eyes glowed bright gold. His hands were clenched at his sides, anger barely restrained.

Astarion unsheathed his own daggers, their weight a fleeting comfort. ‘You lay one more finger on them, I’ll rip your throat out,’ he said. A growl ripped itself out of his throat.

‘Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to pierce my throat,’ said Orin. The tip of her dagger sank into Tav’s chest. ‘Not enough to slice my flesh, taste my blood.’ She drew back her hand, dagger rising into the air. A speck of blood followed its tip.

Astarion clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. His upper lip drew back; he bared his fangs on instinct.

‘Even if you kill them, all you’ll achieve is pissing us off,’ said Karlach. Her words were confident, but her voice betrayed her; she was afraid. ‘We’ll just bring them back so they can spit on your fucking corpse after I split you in half, you crazy bitch.’

None of them liked the way Orin laughed at those words. ‘“Bring them back”? Not here. Not with Bhall’s blessing.’ She grinned, showing all of her teeth. ‘They’ll be the first sacrifice of the night. Then I’ll spill your blood and guts on their flayed skin.’ A shiver ran through Orin as she brought her dagger down.

The blade sank into Tav’s chest with a sickening squelch. They gasped, body going rigid for just a second. Then they went limp.

Astarion’s scream rang through the still air as Karlach charged the altar.

* * *

Astarion knelt down by the bodies laying on the stairs and started rifling through their pockets.

‘What the hell are you doing, Fangs?’ asked Karlach. Tears were evaporating off of her face, her infernal engine still hot with her battle rage. The ashes of a used scroll of revivify were cooling at her feet. The spell's energy had already ran out and Tav was still limp, their body slowly going rigid.

‘I’m looting, can’t you tell?’ Astarion’s voice was snappy, but even. ‘Tav’s usually the one to take everything that’s not nailed down but they obviously can’t do it this time, can they?’

He leaned down over a pile of smoking bones and burned blood that used to be a man once. ‘They always find something for us in these piles of trash, I thought it’d be… nice to do the same for them for once.’ He managed to fish out a rusted dagger from underneath the pile.

‘Astarion,’ said Karlach, voice breaking.

‘Besides, their favorite tea ran out a few days ago, so we’re gonna need stuff to sell.’ He leaned over the pile of Orin’s gore next. ‘Tav spent most of our money on some new armor for you and Gale, and that tea’s expensive, you know?’ He took Orin’s dagger. His hands were shaking.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach tried again. The low hiss of evaporating tears got louder.

‘They deserve to drink something good when they come back, no?’ Astarion stood up straight. His grip on Orin’s dagger was so tight his chuckles went paper-white.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach’s voice was low and thick with tears, ‘I don’t think they’re coming ba—’

‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ Astarion was quick to turn around and point the dagger at Karlach’s chest. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ For the first time since they arrived at the temple, his voice broke. ‘Of course they’re coming back. Why do we keep that creepy skeleton around if not to bring us back in times like these?’

His eyes watered. ‘They’re coming back. They have to. They must. Even if that means I’ll have to drag them out of the Hells myself.’

Astarion’s eyes wandered to Tav’s broken corpse. They were still laying on the altar, the stone of it slick with their drying blood. He couldn’t see their face; Halsin’s shoulders were obstructing the view. Astarion could swear the druid was shaking too.

‘Halsin, they’re coming back, right? They’re coming back!’ If Astarion’s heart still beat, it’d be fluttering with rising panic.

Halsin’s voice was low and quiet. He kept stroking Tav’s matted hair as he spoke. ‘I’m not sure they will, my friend.’

Those words punched all air out of Astarion’s lungs. Fury replaced it.

‘Shut up!’ he screamed; his voice echoed in the empty temple. ‘We were supposed to have decades together. Decades! They can’t leave yet. They promised!’ His knees buckled. With every word he spoke, he sank lower and lower, until his knees hit the cold stone beneath him. ‘They promised we’d… We were supposed to find a way for me to be in the sun again,’ his voice faded into silence.

Astarion couldn’t speak anymore. His chest clenched and his eyes burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kill, and tear. He wanted to bring Orin back just so he could send her to her blasted god all over again. He wanted to hear Tav laugh at one of his stupid jokes.

His throat was clenched so tight not even sobs could escape it. He was vaguely aware Halsin’s shoulders were openly shaking with his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort the druid. That would mean looking at Tav’s empty eyes. That would make this entire nightmare real. So very, terribly real.

Astarion’s grip on Orin’s dagger loosened; the weapon fell with a loud cling, its Netherstone slipping out of it. The stone shone dimly in the light of the torches.

All of it for these stones. All this death, pain and misery for these three pieces of one whole. Tav died for it.

Meaningless, meaningless, meaningless. All of it. All of it!

Astarion’s mind was reeling; jumping from pain to denial to anger to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Tav would know, he thought, and a fresh wave of tears fell.

Karlach laid a hand on his shoulder. She’d cooled down enough for her touch to be only slightly painful on his corpse-cold skin. ‘We have to go, Fangs. Halsin.’ Her grip on Astarion tightened when he shook his head. ‘We have to go,’ she repeated, harsher this time. Barely restrained emotion shook her voice. ‘If they even can come back, we need to get them back to camp as soon as possible.’

Halsin took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Karlach’s right,’ he said and stood up. Tav was limp as he cradled them close to his chest. To his heart. ‘If we stay here too long, we’ll certainly lose them for good.’ The druid squared his shoulders and turned to face the other two.

Astarion went rigid at the sight of Tav’s hand, limply hanging off the side of their body. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at their face.

‘Astarion,’ Halsin’s voice was soft, ‘I understand your pain. They are in my heart as they are in yours. But we mustn't waste time lest we lose them forever. If there is a chance to save them, we must act now.’

Astarion swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. The chill of death had never been more present in his bones. He nodded, silent, and picked up Orin’s dagger and Netherstone.

‘Let’s go,’ said Karlach, new-found determination on her face. ‘We still have to buy their favorite tea after this, right? How’d you put it, Fangs? “They deserve to drink something good after this”?’

Astarion nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke. There was an empty, far-away look in his eyes.

As they left the temple of Bhaal, the sweet stench of blood followed them out.

[filthgarbage86]

@xtravrgnoliveoil "I BEG OF YOU TO WRITE MORE OF EDDIE CALLING READER BUNNY IM BEGGING "

Ask and you shall recieve >:)

Context: Eddie had been trying to figure out which nickname to call you for a while and was trying out different ones. He noticed that some did make you blush a bit but recently at a party, he had called you one nickname that elicited an interesting response from you - bunny.

Here is part two, off of my first part here, you don't need to read the first part to enjoy this part!

CW/TW: Heavy Nickname use (bunny, princess, baby, etc but mostly highlighting bunny), lets be real it's just smutty smut smut, fluff so sweet it'll rot your teeth, very angst and a lil cringe, masturbating and getting caught by Eddie (gasp), both receiving, feminine pronoun use (good girl, pretty, sweet pea, etc.), riding d!ck, just general steam if you will or might.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since that party, you've been on edge.

"“hiya bunny, how’s my sweet baby doing?”

you liked it.

"“Ohhh what’s this, bunny? Do you like being called that?”

you don't know why but you need to hear him say that to you again. you had never felt something so deeply before but you wanted nothing more than just to be a good, playful bunny for him. That name made you feel warm and wanted and needed and you had never felt something more desired. You were luckily already at Eddie's trailor waiting for him to come back from band practice, getting fidgety from anticipation. What could you do? You wanted him to call you that again but you didn't want to be too needy or forward about your wants like that. It's embarrassing... isn't it?

You thought about what he said that night at the party. He mentioned "I’ll treat you like a good little bunny too. All you have to do is look at me in the eye, and say so.” you shivered at the thought, the whisper of the memory creating tingling by your ear and neck. You were already so sensitive. You couldn't wait. You needed something.

You went to his room, put on one of his shirts, and laid in his bed with nothing else on. You just laid there and took in Eddie as much as you could in his absence. His room was messy but it wasn't horrible. He was very him. It smelled like old joints and cigarettes, incense, cologne, and something sweet. It was delicious and it was making you high off of the thought of Eddie. Wanting to be good for Eddie. Wanting Eddie.

You found yourself just thinking about him so much you started reaching downwards, slowly playing with yourself and soon enough you are a dirty little mess. you are soaking his sheets already, you know it but you can't help it. You keep thinking about him holding you close and whispering more in your ear. You're thinking abut how strong but gentle his grip on you is, how he can be so kind and firm at once. You were whimpering, moaning, begging for eddie. eddie.

Eddie had walked in about 5 minutes ago and heard some noise coming from his room. He had put down all his stuff and was determined to be as quiet as possible, hoping to god you didn't hear him. He's watching you struggling to get to that one spot deep inside of you, a spot only he could get to. You were near tears and begging under your breathe. "please eddie please please please... wanna be a good bunny. wanna be good. please. please. please."

Eddie growled. Oh my gods, you wanted him to find you like this. This wasn't just accidental, no. you were hoping that he would walk in on you and that he would find you looking like a the dirty, filthy, little bunny you are for him. And there was no way he was going to disappoint you.

"Yes princess, yes baby what is it, what do you need?"

He is on his knees beside the bed, swiveling your body around to the edge so that he was face to face with your cunt. He's pressing sweet, generous kisses into your legs, your knees, your thighs, his grip unrelenting. You're looking at him through hooded lids, your pupils engulfing your eyes, you were completely taken over by lust. You were in another headspace entirely. Normally, you'd be so embarrassed that Eddie found you like this but right now, you just needed him desperately.

"I want you Eddie, I want you so so so badly. Please please please" He places a sweet kiss on your clit before sucking so intently that it ignites you immediately. You're grabbing for his head and grasping handfuls of his hair and he moans into your cunt at the sensation. "Good bunny gooooood girl you're so so good for me holy shit" you moan, obscenely. There was that name again. You needed to hear it again. "wanna be good, wanna be a good... good.. good"

Eddie was sucking and licking like you were ice cream on a hot summer day, acting like you were the most delicious treat and added a finger and was slowly just pumping into you with ease. "You're being so good baby-"

You whine. Nonono, you were not baby. You felt like you were going to cry. Eddie stops. "What is it princess, what's wrong?" you start whining and squirming more. Eddie presses down onto your hips and stills you with one hand and caresses your head with the other. "Speak to me, y/n, what's wrong?" you're blushing and crying and oh you were being such a mess.

"I'm don't want to be baby. I want to be... to be.." "You're safe princess, talk to me. You want to be..."

You sit up on your elbows, look at him for a moment and take a deep breathe. This is Eddie after all, this is the man that is so sweet to you all the time and has never, ever made you feel less than or weird or unaccepted. You knew that you were safe to be this way with him. You take one more breathe before closing your eyes, moving up from the bed, getting on your knees, and placing your hands on his thighs. His breath hitches, then you open your eyes, big, wide, and blown.

"I want to be your good little bunny"

Oh. It's all over. Something inside of Eddie switches immediately. Holy shit, how could he not when you're looking at him like that? So eager to please. So ready to be good for him, filthy for him. He's about to ruin you. He stares back down at you and gives you a wide, toothy grin and lights up with a smirk in his eye again. He's gripping onto your chin and jaw, causing your mouth to gap a little. "Oh bunny, is that what you want? Is that why I found you here? Were you preparing yourself for me to come home and ruin you? You want me to use you? Want me to fuck you like the good little fuck bunny you are? You are so fucking pretty and sexy, holy shit-"

You're stargazed by this, nodding quickly at all his words, already feeling dumbed out a bit. You stick out your tongue just a little bit, trying to lick his sadly still clothed crotch, trying to entice him before he's hissing and forcing you to look up again. "Patience bunny, you still haven't told me what you want to do. How should I ruin you first?"

"Please can I suck your cock? Please, I promise I'll make you feel so good" Good god what did he do to deserve you? "You can suck me bunny, go ahead. Suck me really good and maybe I'll give you a reward"

You are rushing to get his belt unbuckled, zipper down, and you pull down his pants and boxers to reveal him and oh my gods you really were just so needy right now. It was hard and long and pink and just so pretty. Already slightly wet from precum from eating you out and all the dirty talk and you didn't want to make him wait any longer.

You take his length in one of your hands and start giving open mouth kissing and licking circles over his slit. He is hissing and bucking already, so sensitive. You were both a mess for each other. You take him inch by inch, covering him with saliva to the point where you're drooling. You're sucking him lazily and also with intention, making sure to visit his balls every now and then, sucking, licking, kissing every inch until he can't take it anymore. "Bunny I'm not going to last long if you keep doing this." "Please cum, oh my gods, please please please eddie I really want you to cum for me" "Oh my fuckin god you're so so so good to me, where do you want it" "In my mouth, in my-" He's groaning and shoving his dick back into you and you just brace yourself on his thighs. He isn't holding back anymore, abusing your mouth over and over and over until finally he's cumming hard and warm slick is running down your throat. He pulls out and opens your mouth to see his seed still all over your tongue. He leans in and kisses you intensely, tasting himself on your tongue. "Swallow bunny. Be a good bunny and swallow." You do. You look at him dazed until you're looking below you at the literal puddle you have below you.

"Oh my gods princess, look at you. You're soaked, what's got you so riled up? You just so desperate for me and my cock? You just want to be fucked so good? It's your turn bunny. On the bed. Now."

You stand up immediately and you want to be good, you really do, but you need him right now. You stand up and you push him back onto the bed and have him in a sat position upright. You swing your leg to where you're straddling him and you're hovering over his dick. You both take a moment to quietly moan at the contact, you know you just had him in your mouth but to be sitting on him had you remembering what you came here for. "I'm so sorry but I need you Eddie, I really really really need you. I want to be good but please, I'm going to go nuts if you don't fuck me right now" You're grabbing his half-hard cock and slowly just sitting and taking him in. Inch by inch, you drop further and further down and you're groaning on the way down, you're so full. He's so big that he fills you up just right with the perfect amount of light stretch. Normally it's a big uncomfortable but because you're so wet, you are immediately moving and rocking down into him.

"Holy Shit bunny, you're so fucking filthy and so greedy, you're so cock hungry you just take my cock because you know you're mine and my cock is yours. Take it bunny, take my cock. It's all yours."

You are bouncing and rocking and clinging onto him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and your whimpering and moaning, begging "yes yes yes please please please so good so fucking good oh my god please thank you" into his shoulder while he continues to give praise after praise. He's holding onto you around your waist, hugging you tight into him and giving you kisses on your shoulders, neck, and whispering to you. "Come on princess, I know you can do it, I know you can cum for me. Take me cock and give me your cum, do it. Cum all over me and be a good little bunny. My good filthy, desperate fuck bunny. Come on, bunny"

You are silently screaming, seizing even a bit from the white heated wave that washed over you. He is thrusting into you, holding onto you and talking you through your orgasm, until finally you go limp. He continues to hug you, securing you safely in his arms has he strokes your back lightly until you're back with him. "Hi sweetheart, welcome back to earth. are you okay?" "mmmhmm" you just keep your eyes closed and lean into him fully. You're exhausted, and you cannot believe you just did all of that. "Well you definitely earned your name. Holy shit, baby, you really do fuck like a bunny." You're blushing immediately and trying to hide in his chest. "nonono i didn't mean that in a bad way, princess. I think it's so hot and so so so sexy, you have no idea"

"You don't think it's weird?" "GOD no, holy shit, are you kidding me? I've never seen something more close to heaven than what you just showed me. I love calling you things that make you feel excited like that. You were so good for me, bunny"

You're blushing, you are fully pink and you just smile at him with a hum. You were good. You were his good bunny. And you were hoping to continue that in other ways too.

"What about you?" "Hmm?" "What do you want me to call you?" You barely notice it by the time you look up, but if you weren't mistaken, it was his turn to blush a little bit. "Well sweetheart, you're gonna have to figure that out yourself, just like I had to" Oh, this was going to be fun.

----------------------------------------------------------

Oh my gods that was so much longer than I thought that was going to be but it was worth it because it was SO much fun to write and it definitely got me feeling stuff too. Thank you so much for asking for more and my inbox/ask box is open now! If there are any other requests or ideas, please send them my way! I'm hoping to write a bit more if I can! I hope you enjoyed!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Can I get a whiskey with Steve Rogers as a married couple please one where it’s not quite marvel universe?

New Perspective.

set in a universe where steve doesn't leave, but instead stays to live out the rest of his life in happiness. this is just tooth rotting fluff. <3

warnings - the tiiiiiniest bit of angst at the start. mainly just sweethearts in love.

word count on this is 1k <3

3k masterlist here.

masterlist. inbox.

It's panic, first.

Then horror.

Sadness comes next.

And then... complete and utter relief.

You'd begged him not to go. Pleaded and bargained, promised him anything and everything. But he insisted.

You knew the risks. You also knew you'd never forgive yourself if you let him go while you were arguing.

So, you accepted it. He was leaving to go on a mission through space and time, and you were fine with it. Completely and totally fine with it.

You kissed him goodbye on the platform, whispering gentle love against his lips.

"You come back to me in one piece, Steve Rogers. You understand?"

He nodded gently, pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes, ma'am. Understood."

He'd told you he loved you at least forty times before he went. It didn't do anything to quell the unease in your heart.

And then, it was time. And he was gone. And you held your breath. And the minutes went by. And he hadn't returned.

"Where is he, Bruce?" you questioned softly, trying not to let on how scared you were.

"Yeah, where is he, Bruce?" Sam had said, firmer, laced with more fear.

"I, I - I don't... I'm trying, okay?"

"Trying?" Bucky asked in disbelief, scoffing. "Trying?"

All four of you began to panic. Chests heaving, bones vibrating, lips chewed between teeth.

Finally, there was a noise. A clattering whoosh, a signal of return. You watched the platform, waiting for him to appear.

And he didn't.

"Where is he, Bruce? Where the fuck is he?"

It was the most upset you'd ever seen Sam. You didn't like it. You'd scanned the horizon, and saw broad shoulders and blond hair in the distance.

"I think he's back."

You were whispering, afraid to ruin the tension of the science. You slowly walk over to the bench, and there he is. In all his golden glory.

"Steve?"

"Baby?"

He looked a little dazed, a little confused. Suppose that happens, when you travel between dimensions.

"You okay?"

"I did it. Everything's back where it should be."

"Proud of you," you smiled, sitting down next to him and linking your hands together. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Saw some old faces. They just made me want to get home to you."

You had grinned at him, then, all bright and blinding. You surged forward and captured his lips with yours, throwing your arms around his neck.

"Never leave me again," you'd laughed. "My heart can't handle it."

"Never again," he'd promised into your mouth. "Never again."

That was years ago.

You'd both vowed to live a simple life, from that moment on.

You got married a couple of months later, in a quaint little courthouse in downtown New York. Sam and Bucky were your witnesses, both of them standing with tears in their eyes as you and Steve promised to love each other forever. The four of you grabbed dinner afterwards, at a small family run place that Sam recommended. It was perfect.

You bought a house on the outskirts of New York, out of the city. You wanted greenery and nature, and Steve vowed he'd give you anything you ever asked for.

It's a three bedroom cottage, plenty big enough for the both of you. There's a white picket fence and a rustic stone wall, pathway paved with lawn on either side. The front door is forest green, painted by your husband at your request. You'd suggested Captain America Blue first, but he'd protested. You'd laughed and compromised, picking out paint colours hand in hand at the hardware store.

You've planted fruit trees in the garden, watering them carefully every evening. Apples, pears, cherries, plums for Bucky. You're hoping it'll be warm enough to plant an orange tree or two next year. Steve helps, more than happy to muddy his jeans and get his hands dirty, on his knees in the soil with you. He's hung fairy lights and lanterns among the trees, illuminating the backyard. It's the perfect atmosphere for a dinner party, your friends and family laughing and chatting around a carefully prepared table, food and wine scattered across the cloth. You live for nights like those. Both of you do.

One of your favourite places is your sun room. Big glass panes, sunlight beaming in at all hours of the day. It's prettiest at sunrise and sunset, pinks and oranges cast across the space. You and Steve curl up on one of the love seats, limbs and heartstrings tangled together. You watch the sun come up, excited at the possibilities the day holds. Then, you watch it set, content and warmed by the fullness of your love. You drink coffee there in the morning, and tea there at night. Whiskey, sometimes. You'd be happy to sit there forever, never leaving your husband's side.

Steve installed a vintage claw foot tub in the bathroom. It has ornate gold feet, shiny and intricate. You light candles, close the blinds, and fill it up with warm water and bubbles. Both you and Steve slip into it, your back against his chest, strong arms keeping you steady. He washes your hair carefully, taking his time, slow and gentle. He presses kisses to your wet skin as he works, memorising every inch of you. As if he doesn't already know it by heart.

The most frequented room in the house is the kitchen. You and Steve spend hours cooking, baking, making cocktails. You'll perfect a recipe while Steve sits on the counter, stealing kisses as you work. The sunlight glints off your wedding bands, illuminating the big, open room. It's light and it's spacious and it's a haven filled with love and laughter. And cake. Lots of cake.

He keeps his promise right until the very end. He never left you again.

[htchnr]

♰ pure bliss ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ pure fluff ⋆ i made up the plot to Cooper's movie 'Under The Covers' purely based on the fake movie poster ⋆ but i kinda really like my take on it ngl ⋆ fluff so sweet it'll rot your teeth ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

PAIRING ➻ Actress!Reader x Prewar!Cooper.

SUMMARY ➻ tired late night couch cuddles, based on a convo i had with the lovely @sandy-rat ☺️💕. WC ➻ 300~.

AUTHORS NOTE ➻ i'm not quite back from my break yet, i just wanted to put this out cause UHGGGG i wanna cuddle on the couch with this man 🫠😭🥲🥹 also trying a new writing format, PLEASE let me know what you guys think!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

Cooper looks up from the television at the sound of the floor creaking, " what're you doin' up? " your southern drawl thick with sleep. his eyes meet your form, standing tiredly in the doorway to the living room in your silk nightgown.

Cooper quickly turns the volume on the television down, one of his movies playing. " was i too loud? i'm sorry honey, " he offers, watching you rub your eyes and yawn as you make your way to him.

" you weren't, jus' missed you 's all. " you yawn, melting into the couch as you lay down, your head in his lap. he sighs, a warm yet tired smile pulling at his lips as you settle down. " what're you watchin'? " another yawn.

your tired eyes watch the screen for a second, catching on to the scenery of 'Under The Covers'. " 'course you're watchin' this, " you smile, nuzzling against his thigh. he wraps an arm around your shoulder, calloused hand massaging gentle circles into your skin.

you knew Cooper loved Under The Covers, mainly, cause you two starred in it together — you were the female lead in it.

it was his character's goal to seduce your character in order to learn company secrets and get closer to the man he was after. though, in the end his character falls in love with yours, disregarding the operation to get away together,

it was where the pair of you properly talked for the first time, actually. sure you two had crossed paths in the studios while crossing sets, but you had never sat down long enough to have a meaningful conversation.

and here the two of you are, happily together, rarely apart from each other. he sighs happily as his eyes return to the screen, one of your big scenes playing. " what else would i be watching? " he chuckles, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before trailing his fingers to your hair, carefully combing the strands that lay across his lap.

you practically melt into his lap and the couch as his fingers lovingly scratch across your scalp. your eyes drift shut at the pleasure. " y'know we have other movies t'gether right? " letting out another long yawn as you curl up more against him.

" i know, but this one means the most to me, " he smiles tiredly, the rhythmic massaging of his fingers and the tangle of your hair around them slowly tiring him.

the two of you did many movies after your first, varying from the same type of spy movies, to westerns, to plain romance movies. and you loved them all dearly. you don't think you had a favourite that you did with him, you loved them all equally in your heart.

the ' tik! ' of the old grandfather clock and the rhythmic movements of Cooper's fingers slowly lull you to sleep, cheek pressed against his warm thigh as he tiredly watches the movie. it isn't long before he drifts to sleep either..

TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x @keyofgigi

[just-jordie-things]

as usual @delzinrowe has my brain rotting at an exceptional rate

so let's talk about gojo and how he cannot drive

for the record, if gojo satoru wanted to drive, he could pick it up at anytime. he's gojo satoru after all, there's nothing he can't do, he's a god among humans.

but a god doesn't really need to learn how to drive.

as a youngster he always had people there to do that for him. at the mere snap of his fingers he had a ride to the candy shop. he likes to think he wasn't that much of a brat... but if his sweet tooth was particularly achey that day he might've gotten a bit of an attitude.

and as an adult, driving just wasn't a skill he deemed worthy of picking up. he could teleport anywhere he pleased without breaking a sweat. why waste his time with traffic and a stuffy car? besides, he loved to show off, and teleportation was just one of his many tricks.

so if you asked him, gojo satoru would tell you that he didn't need to learn to drive, he had much faster ways to get around.

that was, until (y/n) was giving him her address and the time of evening at which would be the best time to pick her up for their date, and satoru finds himself so blinded in his moment of gooey infatuation, that he agrees to her terms without thinking twice. it's not until she's walked back towards her classroom that his best friend and fellow colleague spawns next to him and points out his fatal flaw.

"and how exactly do you plan to pick her up, romeo?" geto suguru half purrs half sneers out the little comment, and it's obvious that gojo freezes up in that moment.

"suguru, can i borrow your c-"

"absolutely not"

and that's how he finds himself in this position. staring at the brand new sleek black car in his driveway with his hands on his hips and the shiny new keys to match clutched in his hand. he's been staring it down for a good ten minutes now, much to his kids' annoyance and impatience.

"well are you gonna drive it or not?" the spiky haired boy next to him huffs.

"don't rush me, brat" gojo huffs back with the same level of childish frustration.

"i'm sure you'll do fine," the boy's sweetheart of a sister counterpart chirps up. "you have a license, don't you? it'll be like riding a bicycle"

gojo's face twists into a sour wince, and now megumi and tsumiki are both staring up at him with wide apprehensive eyes.

"you don't have a license?" megumi barks out before his guardian could dish out some half-assed lie. "isn't it illegal to drive without-!?"

a large hand is slapped over the boy's mouth before he could finish berating the man, and gojo's baring his teeth in that grin that the kids know means he's up to bullshit.

"nonsense!" the white haired sorcerer practically cheers. "of course i have a license! i'm a phenomenal driver. i'm a phenomenal everything,"

megumi and tsumiki share a side eye that suggests they believe otherwise. gojo rolls his eyes and finally struts over to the driver's side door. those kids always believed the worst in him.

without another word, he plops in, sticks the key in the ignition, and tries not to startle as the car purrs to life and all the lights come flickering on.

he realizes in this moment that he's never even sat in the driver's seat of a real car.

but he's driven go karts with suguru and shoko many times, in high school- and even just last week when he begged them to.

the car groans at him when he tries to force a shift into reverse. it groans again when his foot taps the gas before settling on the break, and finally he' can move the's putting the car in reverse.

with a grin he glances out the window where the fushiguro siblings are still standing at the edge of the lawn, watching the whole ordeal with silent concern. he gives them a thumbs up before tapping the gas again.

his head is jerked forward as the car speeds backwards faster than expected, the needle on the speedometer flying towards the 10 before shooting back down when he slams on the left pedal again. it screeches to a halt before it could even enter the road, surely leaving a short streak of black on the otherwise clean driveway.

gojo winces, and dares a peek out the window. he's not surprised to find his kids with their hands clamped over their mouths. he gives them another, more sheepish, thumbs up.

well, maybe this was a bad idea, he starts to wonder as he checks the street behind him. there was little to no traffic right now, which made for the perfect time for a driver with only five minutes of a youtube tutorial for knowledge on the rules of the road to enter the roadway. and besides, nothing was going to keep him from going on this date.

so he puts the car in park before rolling down the window and leaning out to holler at the kids.

"keep the door locked and call uncle suguru if there's an emergency!"

"okay! have fun!" tsumiki's ever so present optimism is in full bloom as she smiles and waves at her guardian.

"he's not our uncle" megumi mutters with a roll of his eyes.

they stand on the lawn and watch as gojo slowly backs out of the driveway, hitting the brake every two seconds and jolting the car the whole way out. he's crooked in the street, and it takes him a second longer than the average driver to put it in drive and get going. even then, the kids stand and watch a few minutes longer as gojo intermittently taps the brake and gas, rolling forward only a few feet a minute.

"do you think he's gonna get arrested?" tsumiki asks her brother once he's turned off their street, still on his tap and go method.

"who knows," megumi replies. "but he's definitely losing the car"

"yeah, definitely"

by the time gojo actually pulls up to (y/n's) address- the car crooked in your empty driveway, he's certain that he's mastered driving with the past ten minutes of experience, and surely she'll be impressed.

obviously, he misses the way she tilts her head at his parking job, but she quickly shakes it off as she joins him in the car, too eager for their first proper date to question the angle of his car in her driveway.

he has to gush over how pretty she'd done herself up for the night for a good five minutes before they get moving, and that's when his true colors begin to shine.

forgetting that he wasn't properly pulled into the drive, he backs over the curb after a rush of gassing and braking in reverse. (y/n) may have delayed in buckling her seatbelt, but she's just as soon scrambling to grab the belt and snap it into place, clutching onto it as discreetly as possible.

when he sends a proud grin her way, she can't help but force a gentle smile back at him. he might still be tapping the brake an unnecessary amount of times as he cruises down the road, but she doesn't have it in her to question his ability- or lack thereof.

however, at the end of the night when he drops her off and they solidify their plans for a second date, she insists that she picks him up next time <3

___

a/n: he's literally just a girl !!! xoxo ~ jordie

[sunsdiary]

( @ ) YOUR LOVE IS THE ONLY MELODY ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა . . .

sephiroth & gn reader · rhadore period · mini!sephiroth · he's around 17 · you're two years older · hurt/comfort · angst and feelings

"do you like sweets, sephiroth?"

he shifts his jade eyes over to your hand, his pupils resembling feline slits which expand the more he wore your warmth as comfort against his skin.

his body naturally flinches from this, but he lets out a weary hum soon after.

"mmm..."

finally landing on your own eyes, he met them in a nervous hast. there was an unreadable expression forming there as he went to open his mouth to speak, taking the candy from your other hand as his attention went back to his arm.

you were patching him up after another fight with the rhadores.

when you smile at the youth, it encourages him to take it.

"...it looks... interesting. but i heard they rot your teeth?"

sephiroth stares at the wrapper in your hand, his expression a mix of curiosity and almost skepticism, as if such a thing were unheard of in camp.

but, he still studies it closely, examining its shape and colour before looking over to you.

you let out a soft, hearty chuckle, giving him a dismissive gesture with your eyes as you go to wrap a bandage around his forearm.

"well..." you say doubtfully. "maybe not... but! i heard just one sweet alone can cure any tummy ache."

all he does is deadpan, "but my stomach doesn't hurt?" sephiroth then looks at the dressing, watching red seep through the material. it stings a bit, yet he doesn’t flinch.

you then poke at the middle of his chest, placing the tip of your index finger on his turtleneck. he follows your digit.

"inside, here."

he gives you this doubtful look, interest still on the tip of his thoughts, but, it was an amusing one, at that.

sephiroth takes a moment to consider your words carefully.

"i suppose i could try it. if you say it'll make me feel better, i guess there's no harm giving it a taste..."

he pauses briefly before taking it from your palm and unwrapping it. he pops it into his mouth, and thats when his eyes widen almost instantly at the sweetness hitting his taste buds.

you give him a wide grin, watching him chomp on it enthusiastically. although, the thought of him chewing rock candy made you cringe a bit. . .it was still extremely endearing to watch how caught up he was in its flavour.

something new and unfamiliar, again.

"you like it?"

sephiroth continues chomping the candy, his eyes glazed over with content at the newfound and strange excitement. when he finally swallows, he licks his lips, a very subtle grin growing on his face.

he nods, "it does taste. . .rather good. i never thought something sweet could taste. . .so nice?" you forgot that sephiroth was never rewarded with such snacks before in his life.

you stand, ruffling the youth's hair about.

"then i shall ask the camp to bring more candies in for the young man. wouldn't want you perishing on the battlefield, would we?"

perceiving his bandage again, you brush some hair out of his face. "you're all patched up. i think glenn, lucia and the rest of the team are waiting outside for you."

sephiroth looks down at his treated arm, wiggling and flexing his fingers to test its durability. after appreciating your handiwork, he looks up at you, expression returning to his signature look; neutral.

"thank you. it feels much better already."

you swore for a second that a smile ghosted his lips in that moment, and your heart skips a beat.

he looks toward the door, where his comrades were waiting for him outside. but in that moment, there was a sense of uncertainty in his movements.

you had never seen sephiroth break his resolute before, causing you to tilt your head in mild confusion.

"is something bothering you, sephiroth? you know, you can always tell me. are you having girl problems? i know the younger nurses can be quite the-"

sephiroth cuts you off, looking at the ground as he speaks, "it's... not that. just... sometimes i get lonely. when it's silent, and everyone is asleep, i cannot stop thinking about..."

its like your body froze up when he bombarded you, and initially, you weren't sure what to say or how to react. sephiroth has never been good at reading the room, but this may be your only chance to figure him out.

you needed to know why he was upset. you could sense it, even from a weeks ago.

sephiroth trails off, mumbling, his grip on the bedsheets tightening.

you sensed the pain in his voice, and it compels you to sit back down to sooth his back with your palm. the sudden touch makes him flinch, giving you a side eye with a slight furrow on his face before sighing.

you chuckle nervously at his response.

"well, you don't have to worry about getting lonely when you have me, right? i'm not sure how long this war will last, but good things will come from it."

sephiroth looks up at you, eyes interlocking with yours. they were always intimidating, and beautiful, which was always why you could never bring yourself to look into them directly. you were certain that, if you did, your heart would shatter.

but that was already too late when his pupils form a thin line; you could feel the emptiness staring back at you.

but he faulters, unable to hold your gaze, and it catches you off guard.

there's a hint of vulnerability in the way his lips quirk up at your words.

what did you mean by that?

he nods slowly, the corners of his lips tugging up into a hurtful smile, almost as if what you said was some sort of joke.

"yes. . .you're right. as long as you're here with me, i won't be lonely. . ."

sephiroth pauses for a moment, considering his next words carefully; he didn't want to make you upset, he already felt terrible and awkward for bringing this up with you, but something was stuck in his throat.

"do you think. . .we'll win this war?"

a breeze seeps through the front of the tent and it blows his fringe away from his forehead. your mouth comes to open slightly, hesitating in a stutter, but you end up giving him another awkward smile of comfort instead.

"if we have faith, i think we will. the rest of P0 seem positive about it, despite what we have seen thus far with the rhadore's."

maybe those were the wrong choice of words. . .

sephiroth looks away from you, and somehow you knew why he felt so vulnerable at the mention of the native's.

"will you bring rosen back with you? i'm sure you'll have a lot of fun showing him around midgar?"

and then a pain shoots up his chest; he coughs and he ponders your question for a moment, expression growing despondent. you were closest to him out of all the medics.

he could trust you. he does trust you. but whats stopping him?

"when the war is over, i... i'm not sure." he pauses, contemplating.

"i suppose i should go back to midgar, but... i don't know what awaits me there, if there's anything for me to return to. and as for rosen... it's up to him if he wishes such a thing. it all just feels so..."

he trails off again and you tilt your head at him, a hint of sadness spreading over his sharp green eyes, dulling them a bit more.

you knew this was a touchy topic for sephiroth, but you needed him to know that you will always be there for him. even when he doesn't want the comfort, and even when his mind fights you off.

you go to hold his hand, giving it a tight squeeze of support and encouragement. he looks down vacantly, although, there was a feeling of tingly sensation and warmth behind it. something he had never felt before. something that was foreign to him.

he meets your eyes again, squinting a bit, as if he was fighting back tears from spilling from them.

"it all feels so... empty, i guess. like there's something missing... something that i am supposed to be seeking, fulfilling. but... i don't even know what that is? i feel lost, and..."

his voice trembles, and that was it, the tear he had been holding back forms in his waterline.

a few more seconds of silence pass and he takes his hand back from you, feeling a disgusting sentiment called insecurity. he brushes over his face with his glove, letting you know so.

you know he's not trying to show any weakness right now, yet how sweetly you encourage him to speak his mind to you, makes his heart beat faster than what he was originally upset with.

don't burden yourself with me, he'd probably be thinking right about now.

you always knew that sephiroth was a little different from the rest of his comrades. he never had friends, maybe considering him an outcast and a major introvert. but you wanted to show him that people did care about him, that people would miss him. that you would miss him.

"it's okay to be a little sad sometimes, sephiroth. just because you're strong, doesn't mean you can't feel these types of emotions, y'know? if you couldn't shed a few tears, i'd be worried." you scratch the back of your head, giving a nervous laugh.

his head is still turned away from you, but you knew he was listening attentively to your words, somehow. his hands ball into fists as they tremble under your touch when you go to reach out to him. he struggles to keep his composure, and ohhh how much it irritates him.

and the worst feeling of all, he doesn't know why he is feeling this way.

"i... i know. but... i'm supposed to be strong all the time. that's what everyone expects of me. i'm supposed to be the one who... who leads the team, who takes charge, who doesn't show weakness. i don't want to disappoint everyone. i don't... want to disappoint you."

the pain hitches in your throat, and your body grows warm. why were you happy to hear that? especially now, of all times.

you shake your head sincerely, rubbing over his knuckle to the arm that had the bandage around.

"ahh. . .sephiroth. . ." you let out a sigh. "is that really how you think i feel. . .?"

"even if you don't know what that is yet, i'm sure it will come to you in the future." you finally let out a puff of air from your lungs which you had been holding in forever.

somehow, his emotions were getting the best of you. he stays silent a bit more, not really sure how to response to you.

"and don't you think that's a bit much for someone your age? just because people have expectations of you, doesn't mean they can treat you selfishly? you're not some machine, with no feelings or concerns. you don't have to feel these things alone. why do you do this to yourself?"

you grip his wrist now and he turns to you, eyebrows furrowing and eyes lowering.

"lean on me, rely on me. focus on people who are important to you."

you then chuckle at the thought of glenn squeezing sephiroth in a suffocating hug, and sephiroth looks up at you momentarily to catch it in his vision.

he loves it when you smile.

"and even P0 will listen to your concerns. they always have shown endless compassion towards you, have they not? they care about you. don't take these relationships for granted. you will miss them in the future."

did you really mean that, though? or were you selfish; did you want him to only feel this way about you?

but nonetheless, sephiroth still listens closely to your words, absorbing every tone and every syllable that falls out of your mouth, like a sponge. he's not sure what you're trying to get at, but his heart absorbs it like deoxygenated blood, and the tear finally slips down his cheek.

he nods slowly, lifting your hand up as his follows yours. the pads of both your fingers touch before he clasps your palm, the light seeping through the zipper of the tent, illuminating the back of your head. he only just realises that you may be thinking he's staring at you. . .

"maybe. . ."

he takes a shaky inhale, his voice barely above a whisper, his tongue clicking in his mouth.

"but. . .you don't have to go out of your way to save me". and then he slips away from you again, when you were so close to understanding him.

you give him a weak smile, understanding however. "do you think you'll find that eventually? do you think you'll be happy after you know what that missing piece is?"

sephiroth then smiles, a smile you had never seen on his face before. it was genuine and raw and real, and maybe you were that reason.

"maybe i have already found that missing piece."

when he looks up at you, his expression faulters and his heart skinks into the abyss. there's a look of hurt on your face, and he's not sure where that came from.

he clicks his tongue again, avoiding your gaze, nettling in his own emotions again.

"i don't feel like i am. there's... always this. . .emptiness inside of me. like something is. . .missing. and no matter how strong i become, it just. . .doesn't fill that void."

he now looks at you straight in the face. "and everytime you show me such compassion, i'm not sure whether i'm feeling it correctly or not."

you're silent again; oh how easily he made you mute, so you stand, ruffling his hair again to try and brighten the mood. you then wipe his tear away with the back of your knuckle, his skin soft against your touch.

"what will you do now then?"

sephiroth looks up at you, his hair disheveled; he looks more innocent this way. he manages a small, grateful smile despite his lingering uncertainty.

"i don't know? i suppose i'll just keep doing what i'm doing. keep fighting, keep trying to be the best version i can be. . .and i hope that someday, i'll find what i am looking for. or. . .maybe it will find me instead."

you smile at him, meeting his gaze, albeit, his eyes a little red.

"i'm sure you will. you're blessed, sephiroth. only good things happen to those who are blessed."

you stand, releasing his hand. "now. . .i think we should let the team know i've patched you up and you're ready to move. are you good to go back?"

he lets your words sink in, his behaviour changing in almost an instant at the mention of his team and the work that lay ahead. his posture straightens and his expression shifts aloofly.

"yes, i'm ready. let's go back."

sephiroth stands up, a little more determined than before. somehow, you found it cute, and on the other hand, it somehow made you sad, that you were his only form of encouragement.

despite how he felt, there was a newfound resolve in his mind that he couldn't ignore.

you watch him walk out of the tent, the sob that you had been holding in the entire conversation, spills out quietly.

"that boy. . .this world is undeserving of him. please, don't take him away from me."

[lovehyyuntold]

— Fluttering Between The Dusts Of Our Love

— Rundown: Days have gone by without each other, but house responsibilities have pilled against one another. However, instead of fulfilling such duties, the both of you get distracted by one another, and end up cherishing the moment instead.

— Pairing: husband!chan x wife!reader

— Word Count: 1400 → Genre: Contemporary Romance · Suggestive · Fluff ! No explicit smut !

— Warnings: Filled with utter nonsensical banter, teeth-rotting fluff, huge on physical affection, clingy chan, a little sweet make-out scene? Not by much, mentions of being bare in bed, lots of teasing and kissing

— It would be the biggest honor if you could reblog & comment. Share your thoughts, I genuinely love discussion.

Once again, thank you ♡

“Hey, hey, no!” 

“I am only in need of affection.” Your husband whines.

A huff comes out as a breath, eyes rolling at Chan. Your legs move in a hurry, swiftly getting to the other side of the room. You clicked your tongue, “Exactly. Why do you think I'm avoiding you?” Hands pointing at him as if you were having a conversation with a child.

“But we've been here for so long.”

He pouts, grabbing the nearest shirt by the edge of the bed, and folding it. You smile a little, admiration twinkling beneath your irises as you watch him work slowly. 

A bubble of guilt builds inside as you continue to gaze at him, for he hasn't had time off in weeks, and the first thing he ends up doing is chores? 

You couldn't help but pout with him, a busy man, he was, an endless supply's worth of music production in the palm of his hands, a passion of his. Yet, he does not complain when you ask him for help. It is much difficult when one falls in desperation for need, for every dust could become a bunny waiting to be inhaled. It isn't exactly your fault when jobs become the overlying priority in your lives.

From breakfast to noon since you've started this cleaning fest. Witnessing the sun's bright glow—it's soft hue of gold as it glimmers into the shimmering orange rays that seep through the windows. The slight howl of wind slipping past the curtains.

Coming back from the laundry room, you continuously flinch at the heat—that is, until you giggle at the idea of dumping these scorching clothes on your husband. Karma for distracting you each time you started a new chore. 

You enter the room, tiptoeing to Chan as you observe him—his lips moving, muttering random thoughts as he folds shirt after shirt. You had a slight feeling he heard you, but still risked it. As expected, he turns around—colliding with the laundry basket in your hands, the freshly dried clothes dumped upon his figure.

Planned failed yet worked out successfully.

“Hot!” He yelps, reacting violently by reaching for you, who's about to run away. But malfunctioning as you clutch onto your stomach from the slight wheezing—his eyes bulging wide, arms flapping around, head turning to multiple different directions. “Oh no, you don't!” He barks, grabbing your waist, causing your bodies to crash—bouncing on top of the piles of clothing scattered around the bed.

“How is this allowed? Yet, me offering my love to you earlier wasn't?” His tone, accusing, as he places his head on the crook of your neck, spooning you as you try to wiggle out of his grip. With no luck, his arms tighten on your figure with each move you take. A prey, you thought. As if you were a prey trapped inside a coiling snake. One so close to be devoured, if not the success of escaping doesn't occur.

“Doesn't count!” You squeak, his mouth nibbling slightly on your ear, nose rubbing around the back of your head. “Chris! It tickles! Stop–” He continues, only this time, moving towards your neck, peppering kisses as he sucks on some parts—tongue swiping every time he does.

“Don't resist, it'll only get worse if you do.” He whispers against you, fingers circling on your stomach while the other hand squeezes your thigh. Flipping your position, he swiftly moves his legs to your sides, trapping you below him—smiling, he places his forehead on yours. 

Curls of molasses fall down slightly, the sun's gaze highlighting such pure content written across his features. Eyelids scrunched up from adoration, love spoken in the sigh against your lips—breaths lingering as if a kiss was held in between.

He lays his hands on both of your cheeks, cradling your face beneath his grasp—softly planting a kiss on your forehead. He handles your head gently, as if you'd break at the smallest touch. 

Your husband smiles again, eyes crinkling at your dazed reaction. He chuckles, lowering his head—placing kiss after kiss on wherever he can, as if exploring your body, the body he's already ingrained in the depths of his soul. 

“I.” A kiss on your eye. 

“Can.” Kisses on your cheeks. 

“Never.” A kiss on your lips, biting delicately as if desire spoke within the action. 

“Get.” A kiss below your earlobe.

“Enough,” A kiss on your jaw, more as he explores your neck—dragging out the end of the word.

“Of.” A kiss on your collar bones, painfully taking his time as he descends to the middle of your breasts—staying there as he grabs your left hand. The gaze lasting on you as you flutter your eyes open, he must've looked ravished of you—there was no doubt, he was in dire need of such love. He's grown absolutely frantic without you.

“You.” He plants his last kiss on the back of your hand.

“Channie–” You whine, grabbing onto his arms, you almost forget how obsessively rough they've gotten. Chan laughs, “Hm?” The side of his lips curling up, holding onto you tightly—the space between you both disappearing each time that he presses your body closer and closer.

“T-the chores…” You stutter out, still trying everything in your power not to back down. “My sweet love. You're my priority.” He whines, nuzzling his face on your neck as you place your hands at the back of his head—one tenderly rubbing patterns at his back while the other plays with his hair.

“I'm off tomorrow.” He muffles into you, causing your figure to stiffen at the news. You haven't heard him say that since weeks prior—it was torturous, but he didn't really have a choice from the responsibilities he beholds. The group they have, they rely on each other, they care for each other, and all you could do was support him, because you understood.

Yet it felt as though everything burned to the ground instead, since he had never been home. He mentions this as if such news wasn't a big deal, as if you haven't grown miserable without him.

“How come?” You ask, curious—fingers now fully twiddling with his hair.

“My wife, how I missed you.” He whispers, placing multiple kisses on your neck—wherever he can reach without ultimately leaving the spot. “I barely get to spend any time with you anymore. I become devastated whenever I arrive home, and you're either asleep or gone for your work.” You could feel the frown forming on his lips. He held you tightly as the seconds trickled, as if you would disappear if he had not.

“Baby, you don't have to.” You clarify, knowing how much this job truly meant to him. “We both know it's none of our fault.” You go on, moving your hands down to caress the back of his neck and below—his warmth flowing onto your skin. “Sometimes, we aren't able to, and that's okay. It is why we cherish these moments.”

He jolts up, eyes wide as he stares at you, your brows scrunched up in return, “Now, let's—” Your sentence is cut off when he lets out a hearty giggle. He grabs both your legs, wrapping it around his abdomen, “What are you—ah!” You squeal as you place both hands around his neck. His hands seize your waist as he carries you to the top of your bed onto the pillows, gingerly placing you down.

“Stop it!” You screech while his hands lift your shirt until your full stomach is revealed—he nuzzles his head into it, “I don't think so, you're warm.” continuously placing kiss after kiss.

Eventually, you end up ticking him, repositioning yourself on top of him, straddling his chest—you grab the pillow closest to you, hitting him playfully as he chuckles, dramatically screaming as if to mock you. You cling onto him as if you had been a Koala, and him, oddly, a tree. He hums against you, grabbing your chin softly, tilting your face upwards to gaze at him.

“I love you.” Chan's eyes twinkle as he gazes at you, brown locks scattered beneath the pillow behind him—he wishes more than anything that you understood the weight of those three words, which meant more to him than any star out there. The biggest sensation of adoration written in such pupils.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, wrapping your body around him further—clothes forgotten, cluttered items forgotten, everything just there. 

At this moment, all worries have been forgotten, all tasks shrugged off, because it's just you and your husband in the middle of it all and there's no place you'd rather be.

— Date Created: 6/15/2022 → Date Edited: 8/27/2022

A/N: I had found this gem hidden in my drafts, previously made it for a friend, and edited it to fit Chan. Please don't expect too much. I hope you find it somewhat sweet. I genuinely love marital fics, they make-up that tiny side of my brain in need of dopamine.

— Still working out taglists and stuff. Note that I am very slow in releasing content, so if you'd like to be added (please interact) send an ask or dm < 3

©lovehyyuntold — 2023

[aishitara]

it's cute! go read it!

Dick Move, Bradbury

Charlie backs Dean into a corner as they play truth or dare with their friends, and he leaves the room rather than tell the truth or complete the dare. When Cas comes looking for him, everything he feels for them comes tumbling out.

~~

Dean paced in Charlie's backyard, his face burning with his blush despite the cool night air. Leaning against a tree, he tilted his head back against the trunk to look at the stars peeking through the bare branches, leaves only just beginning to bud. He closed his eyes and sighed miserably.

He shouldn't have bolted. All he'd done was prove he had something to hide. Why had he agreed to play truth or dare anyway? Wasn't that for middle school or maybe high school at the most? They were twenty, for Christ's sake. What was the point? Still, he'd gotten sucked in, and hadn't seen the trap coming until he picked 'truth' and Charlie had asked him if his crush was in the room.

He'd been helpless to stop himself, his eyes darting across the room to glance at his best friend, Cas. They sat there looking gorgeous and casual, chatting with their other best friend, Meg, and Dean felt his heart clench.

He could hear the snickering start.

Whipping his eyes back to Charlie, he glared at her and did something he never thought he'd do.

He defaulted.

"Dare!" he snapped, earning him taunts and laughter from half the room, and the undivided attention of everyone. Just peachy…

Charlie smirked at him, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"I dare you to kiss your crush," she announced smugly, and just about everyone burst out laughing.

~~

Thanks so much to @aishitara for the beta!

Read the rest on AO3.

[sanccharine]

blueberry muffins | sn

single parent au, christmas au

pairing: babysitter!sana x single parent!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 7.2k

warning: so sweet it'll rot your teeth ! ew that ryhmed, i'm sorry

summary: when your own life becomes a b-rated hallmark holiday movie (not that you're complaining)

a/n: finally, what was supposed to be last year's christmas fic and the sequel to pizza party! is here !! all thanks to this request !! this was co-written by @eternallyghosting (she wrote three (very important) sentences and the summary, which is easily the hardest part of writing fics) strangely, it was nice writing domestic fluff again and also i gave up on the banner :D also is this happy belated christmas bc this was for last year or is it early bc christmas is in five days ?? anygays, happy holidays !!

The moment the car stopped, a door was being shoved open. You didn’t have to check the rearview mirror to know that your son had sprinted out. Shaking your head, you shifted the gear to park before turning your gaze at your girlfriend. 

Minatozaki Sana was a confident woman. Or at least that is what you’ve gathered over the last year. She was never one to hide how she felt; it was she who had made the first move. So to see her eyes glazed over, trained on the raindrops collecting at the edge of the windshield was concerning, to say the least. 

“Hey,” was all you uttered, even quiet to your own ears. But Sana was attuned to your voice so she straightened before she turned to meet your gaze.

In the many years that make up a life, a year may be inconsequential. Between those three hundred and sixty-five days many things can happen. You can meet new people, spend time with them and get to really know their likes and dislikes, understand what truly makes and motivates them. During this time, you could gain lifelong friends, whom you instantly sync with only to lose them by the end of the year. Twelve months is enough time to drive you away from your family, to uproot your life and start anew, or perhaps return home to loving arms where everything remains unchanged. A year is a million moments of frustration and tears and happiness, a combination of beginning and endings, and gain and loss. But many years later, those instances would be fleeting at best. 

A whole year; a passing moment. 

Perhaps that’s why you were pleasantly surprised with how well things were with Sana. Having known each other for almost two years, from kind greetings building up to genuine conversations. The slow build of your relationship, from when you first asked her about her bad day to when she finally asked you out for a coffee date. There was not a moment you regretted, and to think that this was all the result of your son, the last shove the pair of you needed. 

Now Sana has moved in, you wake up to her running around your home alongside your son. She’d gone from his babysitter to someone who takes an active role in his life, someone who shapes him to be better. Someone he can learn from, grow with, and rely on, especially when you weren’t there for him. 

Simply put, you couldn't be more sure of your decision to be with her. Now, there were only a few more steps. 

Without saying a word, you reached for her hand, her fingers interlocking with yours instinctively. “I’m not worried, I just need a moment,” Sana said, the frozen glaze slowly dissipating from her eyes. 

Exhaling, you reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. Silky soft to the touch, even with her constant dyeing. How she managed to maintain the texture remained a mystery. From her natural brown to blinding orange to auburn to back to her brown, you’ve seen Sana’s hair shift faster than the seasons. Though in the dark of the night, your car was only illuminated by the lamppost a meter away, her hair seemed so depthless it was inky black.  

Sana leaned into your touch, her eyes fluttering shut as you held her. Just as you were about to assure her, a loud thump on the glass startled you both apart. 

“Aren’t you coming?” Your son asked loudly, though it sounded muffled since he had the side of his face and palms pressed flat against the glass. With another slap to the glass, he moved away but not before saying. “Open the trunk, I need to show grandma my chef’s hat and cookbook.” 

Sana had gone from clutching her heart to clutching her stomach as she doubled over with laughter. You, on the other hand, had to rest your forehead on the steering wheel to let out a long and exaggerated groan. 

“He will be the—”

Your son hit the car twice, yelling. “Trunk, please!” 

“Okay, okay, I’m opening it! It’s opening,” you stumbled to find the button. With a huff, you took out your car keys while Sana was still giggling as she got out to help with the suitcase. 

Your son had catapulted himself into your father’s arms as you headed up the porch, luggage in hand. Sana followed behind you, not necessarily hiding, but slightly obscuring herself from your parents. Smiling, you extended your free hand to take hers as you reached the door. 

“Oh, look who’s home!” your father exclaimed, as he swiftly lifted your son up and placed him on his hip. 

“Don’t do that! Who’s going to pay for another surgery?” you said, scowling while your mother slapped at his arm, trying to pry your son away. 

“With all that hard work, it will be you, of course,” your father said, before whispering at your son who then burst into giggles after peeking at you. 

“Well, if it's all the same, help me out with our bags—”

“Not happening,” your father said before walking into the house. 

“Here, let me,” your mother passed right by you and attempted to take the bag Sana was shouldering. Sana tried to decline politely, but your mother wasn’t having it. Soon the bag was in her hands and she took Sana’s hand in hers. Your mother gave you a smile as she guided Sana into the house. “She’s beautiful.” 

“I know, Mom,” you groaned, the smile hard to suppress. 

Home felt familiar. There was a smell, something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. Of course, there were notes you recognised. A blend of your mother’s baking and your father’s obnoxious perfumes against the smell of rain. Something you’ve experienced so many times before and have long yearned to return to. As for furniture, nothing seemed to have changed. You spotted a few new frames, photos of your son now competing with numerous photos of yourself. Then one that really stopped you in your tracks. 

Your mother, artistic in all of her endeavours, had a growing collage of her favourite photos on a pinboard. You don’t come home often to notice all the small edits she makes, but this one was glaringly obvious. It was a picture that was clearly printed out recently. On normal paper it seemed, it lacked the gloss. It was cut to the shape of the three people in the photo, bordered with orange craft paper and stuck on at the very edge of the board. 

It was a picture of you, your son… and Sana. 

One night, when Sana decided it was time for her classic bright orange to return, she asked whether you wanted to dye your hair as well. 

Of course, in an instant, you answered no. Unfortunately, your son had overheard the question and practically begged you to let him dye his hair. So that night, both you and your son earned a few strands of orange hair that matched Sana. 

Almost on instinct, your hand drifted to the spot behind your neck, hiding a few stray strands of fading bright orange hair. When you had sent the image to your mother, you’d laughed at it because your face was barely in it to your mother’s disappointment. In fact, you were showing your back and looking over your shoulder so the orange was peeking through. Sana wore a blinding grin that also matched your son’s, who was pointing at the streak of orange in his fringe. But here it was, printed and cut out and pasted. 

The sight invoked a feeling you couldn’t place. 

Someone stepped to your right to observe the same picture. 

And then Sana turned to look at you, her eyes glassy. 

Even if it wasn’t said, you know what this means. 

The words were in your mouth when your mother spoke from your left. “I hope you don’t mind me putting up that picture there,” she said with scrunched eyebrows. “I really liked it.” 

Sana’s lips twitched upward as she shook her head. “I don’t mind at all.”

Introductions were quite brief, having heard each other quite a bit from you. Besides, you knew once your son tired himself out and was asleep, your parents could really get to know Sana. So, you decided to move your bags up to your scheduled room. 

Unfortunately for you, Sana stopped by another door. 

Gasping, Sana pushed the door open and took in every corner of your childhood room. 

The room was exactly as you left it. Except less messy. No furniture was moved, no posters torn down, no trinkets replaced—it was as if you had never even left. 

Sana moved to your study desk, her finger brushing the spines of textbooks that had made your high school years a living hell. 

“Did you study a lot?” Sana asked, her voice light as if she were absent-minded. 

“Not really, just enough to pass I guess,” Sana sent you a look over her shoulder, head slightly tilted in suspicion before turning her attention back to the desk. 

She poked the trophies and participation awards, smiling at your photos crammed to a side before picking one up. 

“Someone looks awfully upset here,” she brandished a photo of you standing on a podium, glaring holes at the person in front of you while you gripped your smaller award. “Sore loser much?” 

“I deserved first place! You weren’t there, alright?” you rolled your eyes, plucking the photo away from her while she moved towards your bed.

“I can’t imagine you’d ever have such a tidy room,” she chuckled as she took a seat by the foot of the bed, bouncing a little on the comfortable mattress. 

“Yeah, well, you have my mother to thank for that,” you smiled, as you leaned on your desk, facing Sana. Watching her. 

Perhaps, it was nostalgia. Or exhaustion. Who knows, maybe even the holiday spirit. But you liked staying here, being in your old room, surrounded by things you’ve long forgotten, from a time you don’t particularly miss, but now, with Sana. Someone who promised a new start. 

Sana watched you in turn, her lips pressed thin as she suppressed a knowing smile. 

Leaning back, she asked. “So, is this where we’ll be sleeping? In your old room?” 

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Not a chance,” you jutted your chin at the single bed, “you feel like being crammed into that?”

Sana shook her head as she turned around to feel the quilt, lips quirked up at the shark pattern.

“No, we’re taking the guest room,” you said, walking to your door. From here, you could just about see over the stairway railing and into the kitchen. Both your parents buzzed around your son like moths to a flame, grins on all of their faces. With a soft sigh, you said. “The one that will be coddled, pampered, and spoiled for the next week will be sleeping in here.” 

Content for the moment, you turned your attention back to Sana but she was already looking at you. An expression akin to worry was on her features. 

“They’ll like me right?” 

Sana closed in on herself, hands dragging down the quilt to feel it one more time before folding in front of her stomach. Her eyes darted around the room before settling back on you. You hated seeing Sana like this. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” you pushed away from your place at the door and took Sana’s face in your hands, helping her to look up at you. “They’ll love you.”

You leaned down, your nose brushing against hers as a chuckle escaped her. 

“Just like you do,” she giggled cheekily. 

You kissed her to stop her teasing. 

“Hmm, sure,” but still, you admitted. “Just like I do.”  

Once your son had tired himself out and you had unpacked your things, you decided it was time to put him to bed. With his blue set of pyjamas that matched your ancient shark-patterned bed sheets, he clambered and got under the sheets, tucking himself in neatly. You took a seat by him on the bed, hand reaching out to comb his unruly hair out of his face. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked, a bit slowly. 

“Good,” your son admitted, “it’s nice to see grandma and grandpa again.” 

The muscle in your jaw tensed. 

You wished you could visit home often, a long drive or not, it wasn’t too hard to come back home. However, work dragged you away and you didn’t even have time to consider a plan for the weekend. Even now, your ‘long’ weekend as an excuse for a holiday was extended into a week of freedom after you’d lined up your leave days and practically begged for the holidays. There was no shame in it, the end of this year was important. There were big changes ahead. 

“Good,” you parroted. 

“Grandma loved my hat and said we can bake some treats from the cookbook,” he exclaimed. You nodded as he continued. “I asked her if we could make a cake—a blue one!—like Percy!”

“Like Percy,” you scoffed as you completed the sentence with him. 

“She said she knows a trick so the food doesn’t come out green,” he added and you didn’t doubt him. 

Ever since his class was given free rein over the library, your son has been reading quite a lot. On top of his fascination with cooking, of course. This was the longest he’s stuck with a hobby or interest, and reading that his favourite character managed to eat special blue food, catered to him by his loving mother, only spurred your son more to mimic it. 

With your help, and Sana’s… mostly Sana’s, your son has mastered green pastries, desserts and sweets. Or ogre food, as you lovingly call it. For reasons that you couldn’t guess, no dye seemed to do the trick, perhaps you were buying cheap brands?

“Yeah, I’m sure she does,” you rolled your eyes before pinching his nose, at which he swatted your hand away. 

“So which book are we reading tonight?” Sana asked, walking into your childhood home with a book in her hand. You could guess which one it was. 

“The Lightning Thief!” your son squealed when Sana held the book up. 

“Don’t you get tired of reading the same one again and again?” you asked, watching Sana as she took a seat on the other side of the bed. 

“Nope!” your son said, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. 

“Okay, but aren’t you curious about what happens next—?”

“Oh, don’t start this again,” Sana said, as she conspirately shook her head with your son, clearly over your grumbling. 

“I’m just saying—!”

“Oh look at the time,” your son pulled up his empty wrist. “It’s bedtime, we only have time to read a few pages, let's get started!” 

Scowling, you pinched your son’s cheek and he had the audacity to giggle. 

Sana had started reading the chapter you’d stopped on. Her voice was soothing to listen to, even if the story wasn’t too uplifting. Getting comfortable, you curled up next to your son over his quilt and watched his drooping eyes struggle to stay open. 

As Sana finished the chapter, she glanced over. A smile tugged on her lips when she found that your son was deep asleep. 

With a nod, you kissed him on the forehead and made sure he was comfortable. Following suit, Sana placed a kiss of her own on his temple. The pair of you exited the room on your tiptoes and slowly closed the door behind you. 

“I’ll take the book back,” you said, extending your hand out. 

Instead, Sana placed a kiss on your cheek, her eyes lidded. 

“What was that for?” you asked, surprised but you weren’t complaining. 

“Just because,” she shrugged and then handed the book over to you. 

“Are you stalling seeing my parents?” you asked with a smirk as your hand came to rest by her neck, your thumb tipping her jaw to face you. 

“Not at all,” Sana said with such conviction that if you didn’t know her better, you’d have believed her. 

“They won’t take much time, I won’t let them interrogate you. I can tell them we’re tired and we need rest,” you said tilting your head to the side. “Which we do, honestly.” 

Sana nodded with a sigh, her eyes shuttered close as she leaned into the warmth of your palm. 

You pulled yourself in for a kiss, a gentle one, on her lips. Sana hummed before pushing away. 

“I’ll see you in a second,” you whispered. “You got this.”

She nodded and turned towards the stairs. You waited till she reached the bottom of the stairs before making your way to the guest room. Staying for such a short time, there was no need to unpack completely, and for that, you were slightly grateful. That meant you could hide things without anyone being the wiser. 

Dropping the book down on the open suitcase, you kneeled to rummage through the clothes. Making sure to lift layers of clothes as it is, you find a small velvet box at the very bottom. The sight of it brought a smile to your face. It can only mean so many things, though you still have some things to complete. 

Leaving it in the same room would be a gamble. The guest room was basically empty, anyone would be able to find it. Every other room in this house had someone staying in it or had them frequent it often. Anything moved out of its place would ring the alarm bells, no, you needed to hide this somewhere no one was likely to check. 

So you walked back to your childhood room and entered as quietly as you could. Your son was sound asleep. The left door on your cupboard creaked when it opened, but if you applied pressure on the hinges as you opened, it made barely any sound. Locating the bottommost drawer, you pulled up your old clothes and shoved the box at the very back before hiding it under the clothes. 

Happy with your task, you exited the room just as stealthily and made your way down to join your family as if nothing were amiss. 

Even with the help of your mother, it seems your son had difficulty mastering blue food. 

Somehow your mother managed to convince your son from an elaborate tiered cake to a classic sponge cake to plain old blueberry muffins. You’d hoped that maybe you could escape for the day, maybe with Sana, around your old neighbourhood. Unfortunately, you’d been roped in as assistant chefs and taste-testers instead. 

Seated on the couch, you watched three of the most important people in your family take a crack at making blueberry muffins which were actually blue in colour. Sana had been assigned mixing duty, which made no sense to you because you knew for a fact your mother had an ancient stand mixer lying around somewhere in the house. Though Sana didn’t seem to share your sense of justice as she was happy to do so. 

Your mother was taking her time going through the recipe book and teaching your son her own techniques. The sight helped you recall some of your own moments under her wing in the kitchen, though you were neither as interested nor skilled to be there. Oh but your son, he was completely enraptured. You’ve never seen him in school and struggled to attend parent-teacher meetings, but you guessed this is how he was in class as well. The swell of pride on your chest was an indescribable feeling. 

When Sana said that the batter was ready, your head perked up. Leaving your place on the couch, you made your way to the kitchen. Making sure your mother and son were distracted by the oven, you moved behind Sana. You had to be quick!

Rounding one hand on her waist, you placed your chin over her shoulder and at that, she chuckled while snuggling into your side. And then, you struck. 

Your free hand’s index finger dipped into the bowl to carry a dollop of aqua-blue batter straight into your mouth. 

By the time Sana had realized what you’d just done, you were already out of her reach. Her indignant shriek altered the other two chefs of your crime, though even they couldn’t do much now. 

When the muffins had been completed, you were surprised to see they were properly blue. Not some horrid inedible shade of green. 

Your first question after inhaling a few muffins alongside your father was to your mother. 

“How did you get them so blue?” you asked, staring at the dishes in the sink, looking as if a smurf had been murdered. “We never managed.”

“Well, depends if you bothered to buy the brand I told you to,” your mother showed an empty tube on the counter and you rolled your eyes at the dig.

“I did buy that brand!” you said, moving to pick up and examine the tube… only to find two more tubes hidden, flattened beyond recognition. 

“Well, then it depends on quantity,” your mother said as you turned on the balls of your feet, incredulous. 

“Is this much dye even healthy?” you asked, already reading the ingredients on the tube. 

“Guess we’ll find out,” your mother only shrugged as she looked at her husband, still scarfing down the muffins. You sent your mother another incredulous look but she just laughed at her own silly joke.

As the holiday came to an end, you finally got your chance to spend some time alone with Sana. 

Your father claimed he barely got any time to spend with his grandson. Of course, that was a complete lie. With how much time and money he spent, you’d even debated getting your son a gift at all. Though that was out of the question, you and Sana had already set your mind on what it was and had it ordered beforehand. You just had to go collect it. 

So your father said he’d take you all to the park. Once there, you let them go their own way. One moment, your son was accompanying your father and the next he was running at the nearest dog, eager to pet it. 

Holding hands, you and Sana watched as you made your way through the park. With every step, you were getting further away until you could see your son no more. Suddenly, the velvet box in your jacket pocket weighed you down, as if it had materialized into your jacket out of thin air. 

“Not going to lie,” Sana started, “I thought you’d show me more of your old home.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t know, something like your old friends? Your old school? Old hang-out spots?” Sana drew on. “Maybe how that high school enemy of yours and how they work at a general store, having never escaped this small town?”

“I don’t know what winter budget film you watched, but that’s not happening here,” you rolled your eyes at her imagination. “Also, what enemy?” 

“The first-place winner,” Sana said with a cheeky smile. 

“Oh please, I’m not that petty to be thinking about something that happened so long ago,” Sana watched you intently, nodding along almost in a mocking manner. “And besides, they’re a professor at the university across the city, I believe.”

Sana’s grin widened as you just realised what you admitted.  

“I wasn’t keeping tabs on them! I just saw a post of theirs recently, alright!” you cried, though it fell on deaf ears. 

The most important thing to come out of the walk was your destination. To and back, it was mostly filled with Sana’s inane questions (filled with imaginative scenarios to paint you as some egregious husk of a human, might you add) and you answering them with proper facts and maybe some anecdotes. Sana stopped by the crafts store to collect wrapping paper while you collected your son’s gift. 

It was the following series of his favourite books; Heroes of Olympus. 

Yes, he has yet to finish the last two books of the current series. And yes, you’d only just berated (teased) him about rereading the first book. But you could just imagine how his face would light up when he sees these books. In fact… you don’t even know if you’ll be reading these books to him by the time he gets to them, which was strange to think about but really, there wasn’t a better gift for your son. 

When you arrived back home, your son was taking a nap on the couch, which made it all the more easier to wrap the present for him and get dinner ready.

When your son woke up the table was already set and the first thing he did was take his seat. All eyes were on him, everyone was wearing smiles watching him practically bounce on his seat. He gets to have his dinner, the muffins that he made, and then open his gifts early. Your father, chuckling, ruffled his hair and took a seat beside him. 

Dinner, for the most part, was uneventful as usual. That's not to say you didn’t have any fun. You did, you really did. As you ate your meal, you took a backseat in the conversation, observing just how comfortable Sana was alongside your family. She had absolutely nothing to be worried about. Your parents adored her. Almost as much as how much you and your son did. 

“So when is it?” your father’s question filtered in and you looked away from your nearly clean plate. 

“When is what?” you asked before taking your final bite. 

“I asked when are you two getting married?” 

Sana had to rub your back so you didn’t choke on your food, or worse, spit it across the table. 

“What?” you tip a sip of water. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s a valid question, really,” your mother admitted, not really looking at you, but you could see the smile toying at the edge of her lips. 

“Yeah, when is it happening?” your son looked up at you, eyes wide and shiny. 

“Um…” you turned to Sana for some help. Instead, she took her hand from your back and placed her chin on it, leaning in and expecting your answer as well. 

The velvet box seemed to burn in your jacket pocket.

Somehow, you’d managed to get out of that dreadful situation. 

Once the plates were cleared and blueberry muffins disappeared. It was time for presents. 

As if aware of what he might get, your son gravitated toward the large box set you’d gotten. And you were right. 

Nothing could compare to the expression on his face when he realized what he’d gotten. 

Without hesitation, he jumped into your arms and thanked you a thousand times. You reminded him that Sana had pitched in as well and he was flying at her to give her the same treatment. 

Perhaps, you were petty. 

Because you took pride that no other gift earned the same amount of excitement. 

The night settled down and your family received one last gift from your mother. 

When all of you were out, she’d tidied up the backyard and made hot chocolate.

All throughout this holiday, every moment seemed to be building up to this one. 

Under the twinkling fairy lights, you joined your son on the steps to the backyard. He was sitting with his knees up, his hands toying with a small figurine of Poseidon. Sana had bought it for him the moment she laid eyes on it, having thrifted it from some store, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory. 

Seeming to be in deep thought, your son watched the sight before him. With steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands, your parents conversed with Sana. You didn’t know what she said, but it had your father throwing his head back and letting loose a loud snort. Your mother’s eyes crinkled in amusement as she flitted her attention back and forth between them. 

Clearing your throat, you began to speak. “Your hot chocolate is turning into cold chocolate, you know.” 

You were sure that comment would earn a look from him, but instead, your son moved a hand towards his cup, the figurine still in the other. He sighed and brought the cup to his mouth anyway. But before he could take a sip, you switched out his for your own cup. 

“Here, have mine,” you said, carefully placing the warm cup in his hands. 

Your son mumbled his thanks and sipped the drink silently, his eyes back on Sana. There was something he wanted to say. You had something you wanted to ask him too. But you decided to wait him out, let him come to you first because you surmised both of you wanted to discuss the same thing. 

And so for a moment, on Christmas day, you sat in silence with your son, on the steps to your childhood backyard, sipping warm (and yours, cold) chocolate. 

When he was done halfway with his hot chocolate, he placed the cup back down. You followed him. His hands were fidgeting with the figurine again, spinning it round and round, only stopping from time to time to run his index finger over the trident. 

“Grandpa was right, you know,” you’ve never heard your son’s voice so small. Wavering, as if he were confused, nervous even. “Why haven’t you asked Sana to marry you?” 

He paused to bite his lip while his eyes flitted to the figurine, thumb caressing the figurine’s armour. 

“Is it because of me?” he asked. The utterance is almost like an exhale, light but onerous. 

It would be so easy to provide empty consolation, that no, it wasn’t anything to do with him. But he knows you too well for that to pass, he’d see right through your attempt. Your son is already quite wise beyond his years, especially at the most inopportune times for you, and was only getting older. For as long as you can remember, it's only ever been the two of you. 

Your dates, however rare, come and go. His babysitters, much to his distaste in the beginning, come and go. Having a partner at the start seemed so important, if not to share the burden of caring for a child, then to at least have another figure for your son to look up to. And when you questioned that sort of thinking, you’d figured that all that really mattered was that you were there for your son. With little time as you did have with him in your day, you fought to make time for him. You hadn’t even entertained the idea, that perhaps, you’d date just for yourself. When it came to your son or some romantic dalliance that would never amount to anything real, the choice was easy. 

Because at the end of the day, it's only ever been the two of you. 

But all of that changed when Sana arrived at your doorstep. 

You doubted that neither of you, all three of you even, expected this outcome. 

So you understood where your son was coming from, asking this question. 

And you decided to be honest with your son, as you always have. 

“Yes, in a way.” 

Finally, your son turned his full attention to you. His hands were still holding the figurine, but they weren’t fidgeting anymore. 

You also turned to face him. 

Round eyes had turned sharp, searching for something. Yet his face was a little less expressive, more difficult to read. There were lines of worry decorating his forehead, he seemed older. He’s always by your side, it’s so easy to miss. But this close, on this night, it was obvious. He had grown up. 

“Before I asked her, I wanted to ask you,” you confessed. The velvet box that was previously hidden underneath your old clothes in the third drawer of your cupboard was now heavy in your pocket. Your son tilted his head in question. “For as long as I can remember, it has been just you and me.”

You sighed. These words were harder to get out than you’d expected. 

“I know you like Sana, and I know she already stays with us, and I know you know how much I love her,” the corner of your son’s lips twitched up a bit. “But there’s a difference between being together and being married. I think it’s a big step. And I don’t want to take that step with your blessing.” 

It only took your son a fraction of a second to react. He nodded, eager to say yes. 

“Of course, I want this for you,” he said, grinning. “She makes you happy. You make her happy too. And that makes me happy!” 

And he was back. 

He was giggling to himself as he poked your side with a finger. You rolled your eyes as you tried to brave the tickling sensation. 

“But seriously, I want this,” he nodded before turning his attention back to his cup of hot chocolate. He was going to take a sip, but stopped and looked at you. “And… and thanks for asking me.” 

“Of course,” was all you could say as both of you went to take a sip from your mugs. 

“Ugh!” your son let out an ugly bleh! and frowned. Your parents and Sana turned to look over at you. “This is so cold! Is yours too?” 

Your mother chuckled and nodded. From across the yard, she asked. “Shall we go heat them up?” 

“Yes, please!” your son stood up and pocketed his figurine. He extended a hand for your cup as well. When you gave it up, he whispered conspiraterly before your mother could whisk him away. “Good luck! You got this!”

And then with a giggle, he’d skipped off into the house. 

Your mother stopped at the steps just as you got up and dusted yourself up. 

“What were you two whispering about?” she asked with an uptick of her brow as if she hadn’t had her guesses. You shrugged. 

“What were you laughing about?” you asked. Your mother glanced back at your father and Sana, then back to you. She shrugged. 

“Okay, be like that then,” you said and your mother only chuckled. 

Then, she turned back again and called out to your father. “Did you take your tablets?” 

“Shit, no!” your father excused himself and rushed over. 

“Language!” your mother said as your father zoomed past, though he was more hobbling. Then your mother looked back at you. “She’ll say yes.”

And with that, she followed your father in and closed the balcony door to shut away the cold air. 

You turned to Sana. She was already looking at you. 

Without a mug, she had nothing to fidget with, so she had her hands steepled in front of her stomach. Her eyes were wide, expectant, as you made your way over. 

“Hey,” you said, both your hands finding their place in your pockets. Of course, it was only a front to find the box they were hiding. 

“Hi,” she said, the corner of her lips twitching up. 

There was nothing left to do. Nothing more you were so sure of. 

So instead of stuffing up the moment with unprepared words and emotion, you pulled out the box. 

Sana didn’t gasp or squeal or tear up. She just raised her steepled hands to her lips, her cheeks pushed up so high, elated crinkles forming beside her eyes. 

You weren't a grand person either. No big dinner, no big celebration, no build-up. You’d considered it, you really had, merely for the sake of Sana. But everything else just felt so unlike you, well, unlike the pair of you. Your start had been so simple, so unassuming, only because there was already so much between you. And everything that had followed, with her, and her with your son, had been the same. Everything just made sense. 

But you did think, perhaps, you should get down on one knee. 

So you started lowering yourself to the ground as you opened the box. But before you could complete the pose, Sana grabbed you by your collar and pulled you into a crushing kiss. 

You surmised that was a yes and smiled into the kiss.

“Come on, come on,” your son was ecstatic, practically shooting off from his seat on the couch. Sana only smiled to herself as she set up the laptop on the coffee table, making sure the camera showed everyone and that she looked all right. “We’re in!”

Handing Sana the mugs in your hands, you seated yourself down and lifted your son onto your lap. Just as you were taking back your mug, a shrill voice shrieked. “Sana!”

Your son giggled while your eyes widened. Because Sana returned the greeting with the same energy. “Nayeon!”

You’ve heard of that one before, Nayeon, and seen photos of her too. Well, you couldn’t remember exactly, Sana had quite the group of friends but when Nayeon’s face appeared along with another person, you just smiled and waved awkwardly. 

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Nayeon said politely to you just as another screen popped up. You knew them, the newlyweds!

You parroted her greeting as more screens popped up with familiar faces, but none close. You’ve only heard stories or seen photos. The laptop erupted with voices, none of which you recognized, it was quite overwhelming. Though, Sana had no trouble at all catching the flow of the conversation and laughing along. Your son seemed to follow her, although silently. Someone with the name of Choi Tzuyu housed two people on their screen, they both waved at your son, who responded eagerly. 

“I think everyone is here!” one of the women said, her profile name read Jihyo. She was clearly wearing a suit, though her tie had been undone. “Yup, headcount done, everyone is here. How are we moving forward with this?” 

“Well, that depends on Sana, really,” a woman from Nayeon’s screen said, she’d just joined the pair that was already there. She was wearing a smug smile, and in response, Sana rolled her eyes. 

Both you and your son turned to Sana, expectant. 

Grinning at the ground, feigning bashfulness, Sana held up her left hand. And there it was, glinting in the light, your engagement ring. 

The audio lagged from how much volume erupted. Someone wolf-whistled, while the others laughed and clapped. You knew people were congratulating you, but you were too busy fending off Sana burying her forehead into your shoulder. Only your son seemed to delight in the revelry. 

And then, to your horror, someone yelled. “Show us your ring too!” 

Before you could even lift your hand, your son had taken your left hand and held it above his head, showcasing the matching ring!

Someone shrieked again, although this time around the celebration was a bit more subdued. 

“Damn, I thought we were all gonna scream again but okay,” the one with the profile name Hirai Momo said, while the person next to them swatted their arm. “What? It’s—”

“Please ignore Momo, congrats on your engagement,” Jihyo said, leaning forward, trying to look right at you. “I know Sana has been excited about this for quite a while.” 

“Oh,” was all you could say, as Sana pulled away from you, a blush coating her cheeks. 

“We knew this was coming,” the profile Dahyun said, “but I think this is the first child in our little group—hello!”

Your son perked up as all attention was on him. “Hello!” 

He was readying himself to be asked questions, to share his interest in cooking with a whole new group of people, though the conversation switched again. 

“He’s not the first child, we have children too,” Momo whined. “Look, Boo and Dobby are here.” 

And then she continued to make the most obnoxious noise to call over her dogs. 

“You did not just compare an adorable kid to your feral dogs,” said the person next to Momo, even though they reached out to a dog themself and picked one up. “I’m sorry for this one, kid.” 

Your son didn’t seem to mind, instead, he was absolutely taken with the two dogs in the hands of the couple. 

“Then, I guess I have children too,” someone from the profile Choi Tzuyu said and called over another dog too. 

“Oh, Tzuyu, you’re back home?” someone asked and once again, the conversation changed. 

Smiling at the sight, you were content with just seeing Sana interact with her friends. She’d been pretty adamant about staying with you for this Christmas, and she’d mentioned how horrid the one before had been. It was the reason this group had decided to call this time around. 

Then out of the blue, Jihyo asked. “So when is the wedding?”

“Why are you asking? So you can bring that plus-one of yours from last time?” 

The call erupted again. 

“Right, right, how long are you just going to be attending weddings? When are you going—”

“Jeongyeon, I’m going to stop you right there, you’re giving me traumatic flashbacks to my mom,” Jihyo said, holding up her hands. “And, that plus-one was a one-time thing, I’ll probably never see them again.” 

“They’ll probably be there for Sana’s wedding, let's be honest,” even the slightest mention of your wedding had you sweating. Sana seemed to notice. 

Muting yourself, Sana turned to you. “They’re going to go at this for a while, thanks for agreeing to meet them… they’re basically family to me.” 

“Yeah, no, of course,” you said, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. You ignored the one who whistled again. You were muted, not off-camera. You tried not to display your embarrassment. “I’ll get this one ready for bed then.” 

Your son was pouting, but Sana just nodded. “I’ll finish up this call, and we can finish up your favourite chapter.” 

At that, your son’s smile returned. 

“Come on,” you said, picking him up and giving him a boost to land across the couch. You took the empty mug from Sana’s hand and left as she re-entered the conversation as if her little pause never occurred. 

“Mina! Ask Mina, she’s single too—!”

“But we’re here to talk about you, Jihyo—!”

“What do you mean? You just got engaged!”

Their voices faded with every step you took away from Sana, your son in tow. 

Maybe it was the end of the year, maybe it was the communal holiday spirit, but every Christmas, you found yourself reminiscing about past memories. Watching your son take his first steps, to watching him become confident in his own skin, you were glad he was surrounded by people who loved him as much as you did. And now, that permanently included Sana. These holidays have changed so many things, all of which you were so deeply grateful for. 

Surged with a wave of emotion upon reaching the threshold of your childhood bedroom,  and unable to suppress your elation, you grabbed your son by the hips and lifted him into the air. You were sure the sound of his surprised giggles would stay imprinted in your mind for many more Christmases to come.

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: first and foremost, i am so very sorry dear anon for getting this to you almost two fucking years later ;-; and second, happy percy jackson day !!

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

[liketwoswansinbalance]

On the Subject of "All-Kinds-of-Fur:"

Link to the original Brothers Grimm fairy tale for reference. It's basically a variant of "Cinderella."

Also, if I have the inspiration for it, this could become part of a series, set during the peaceful days before the prequel events. Thus, if anyone would like to send in a request for the School Master brothers' reactions to a classic fairy tale or an SGE one, however obscure it may be, I might write it!

⸻

[Rhian enters the tower chamber looking distressed while Rafal is grading fourth-year students' theses on treachery, taboos, and the natural lines of family, that, when wrongly crossed, drive people insane and disrupt the fragile human psyche.

For an example of this so-called phenomenon (stolen from the plot of Hamlet), imagine a scenario as follows: a wife marries her husband's brother after her husband dies. While they may not be blood relations, this scenario is still off and rather strange, even if modern times could make more allowances for such a thing to occur and be socially-acceptable.]

Rhian: My fourth-year Class Captain had to run away whilst on her questing assignment!

Rafal: [absently, without looking up from the papers, slashing through lines in bloodred ink] Mm, shame. [He sips his tea.]

Rhian: [tries to smile but it looks uneasy and he begins to pace with anxiety.] No! It's... good... I suppose. [He cringes.] If she hadn't run into the Woods last night, she would've had to marry her father!

Rafal: [spits out his tea.] Who's her father? Not one of my graduates, surely. Even my curriculum standards rise above that, that rot.

Rhian: No, it's not one of yours. Simply some brazen king. I just... I wish I could do something. She was one of my best students. [He sighs dejectedly.] But I doubt the Pen will tolerate an intervention. We just have to let her tale play out.

Rafal: Well, is it worth working yourself up over? She got away. Maybe it's you who's too invested in your students’ lives. They can fend for themselves, you know... well, probably. Actually, some Evergirls can be dimwitted. [He pauses.] How about this?: you always have the option of throwing her a lovely funeral.

Rhian: Oh, forget it. I don’t expect you to understand. [He throws up his arms, flustered, and exits the room.]

[Rafal observes that his brother still looks rather sad. In fact, Rhian grows more worried with each passing day as the Storian writes of the poor girl's travails as a forlorn scullery maid in hiding.]

⸻

[Several months later, three days and three nights after each night of the ball and banquet in the Evergirl's fairy tale:]

Rhian: [elatedly, swelling with hope] Rafal! Rafal! Have you heard? My Class Captain might live to see her Happily Ever After! The young king is going to save her! She’s danced with him three nights in a row and he would take no other partner. Though, each night, she slips away and conceals herself in that hideous, asymmetrical coat. You've seen the Pen's illustrations, haven't you? And last night, she wore a dress that glistened like the stars! I just knew the Beautification Practice While Impoverished classroom simulations would pay off! I knew it! It's the sheer magic of what a little soap and water can achieve!

Rafal: [not listening to Rhian's enthusiastic raving] Uh-huh.

Rhian: [finally looks at Rafal more closely after his lackluster response.] Say, Rafal? Where did that patchwork blanket come from? Is it new? I feel like I’ve seen it before. Somewhere... [he muses.]

Rafal: [shrugs without looking up from his book.] Nowhere. You’re not still… sad about that tale, are you? It’s old news. And the Storian's been still about that tale for a good few hours. Maybe it'll be scrapped, storybook and all.

Rhian: [grits his teeth in frustration] Yes. I know. You weren't listening.

Rafal: [expressionlessly] Wasn't I? Regardless, Happily Ever Afters don't concern me.

Rhian: [tongue-tied, attempting to come up with a fitting retort] An-and, you need a good douse of soap and water too. You've got... soot and—is that walnut oil all over your hands?

Rafal: [rolls his eyes.]

⸻

[The next day:]

[Rhian devours the completed tale in one sitting and notices a discrepancy he assumes is a continuity error by the Storian: the vagabond princess disguised in the role of a scullery maid returned to her little cubbyhole below stairs to find that her coat, which she’d left in the shadows, had disappeared, seemingly stolen.

Perhaps, a creature of the night had made off with it, desperate to reclaim its skin.

Or perhaps, there had been an intervention.

Thus, the princess was forced to show her true, shining self to the king’s men hunting her down. In her gown, that gleamed like the stars, much like a bride's.

And Rhian has a feeling he knows why this Ending came to be.]

⸻

[A week later:]

Rhian: [enters, humming about wedding bells to himself.]

Rafal: You look well. Did something go right?

Rhian: Yes! Something nice came in the post today, brother. My former student and the young, foreign king have invited us to their wedding. And look! Even you got an invitation, too. [He laughs to himself and makes a face of mock fright, lowering his voice and gnarling his hands into claws.] Whooo, they probably didn't want the Evil brother to curse them during a christening someday, so you'll probably get a golden plate and sweetmeats to spare at the wedding feast in order to "appease" you.

Rafal: [glares at him.]

Rhian: [drops the act.] Ahem. Anyway, we’ve got to pack for spring in Altazarra. Bring some non-black, festive clothes, if you have any. Oh, and bring a less ugly coat than that scruffy old blanket, will you?

Rafal: I’m not attending. I don’t like inane balls or sentimental Ever Afters, but have fun.

Rhian: Are you sure about that?

Rafal: Positively.

Rhian: [holds up an illustration of the princess' cubbyhole from the tale he’s been scrutinizing for the last few days.] Then what’s this shadow the Storian’s inked in darker than the rest? It looks quite a lot like a human form.

Rafal: Trick of the light. Just be glad Evil didn’t prevail this time, and call it a day. My side will win next time to be sure.

Rhian: [smirks knowingly] I guess I owe my peace of mind and sanity to a thief then.

Rafal: [deadpans] Run along, Ever. Pip-pip. You've got a wedding to attend, have you not?

[mrs-kodzuken]

Fated Beginnings ♡

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x fem!reader

WC: 4.1k

Genre: fluff

CW: fem!reader, teeth rotting fluff, date set up by Kuroo, slight introverted!reader, slight cursing

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"Kuroo, I don't feel comfortable doing this," I mumbled looking back down at the current book I was reading.

"Come on, (Y/n). It'll be fun!"

I sighed placed my bookmark on page 146, and closed it. I didn't have the time or guts to do this.

"Kuroo, you said that last time and last time I got clumsy and fell, multiple times if I may add." I coldly told him, looking up.

We were in the library at school, he knows this is how I spend my lunch. And yet still continues to bother me endlessly.

"I promise this one will be different, I know Kenma better than the other dude." He pleaded at me. He has been trying to set me up with people for God knows what reason.

I sighed once again and lightly put a lock of my hair behind my ear knowing I've picked the habit up from reading too much.

"Fine Kuroo, but if this one goes wrong, I will not speak to you for a week and you cannot set me up with another person," I spoke firmly at him, making my point known.

His eyes lit up at me and squashed me into a bone-crushing hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He shouted, very loudly, after letting me go.

"Calm down or else you're going to get us kicked out of here."

Kuroo and I have been friends since day one, literally. Well, not literally maybe about a year apart. However, I didn't exactly like how much of an extrovert he can be.

We grew up together and in most situations I'd stay inside, much to his dismay. So, I've never been a fan of being outdoors especially when it's a sunny day. I'd even go to the length and say I hate sunny days.

"Why are you like this.." I grumble quietly and pick my bag up from the library's carpet floor.

"Alright, so I've been planning this for a while. Hence, why I chose Saturday for the date because it's going to rain. You and Kenma are going to be staying at your place. I've been waiting for my best friends to meet for so long." The excitement but mischief in his voice concerns me just a bit.

I rolled my eyes and headed out of the library, seeing as I had to get back to class.

Even if Kuroo is a 3rd year, we still hang out together. Correction, he still pesters me to hang out with him.

I could have used all that time for catching up on books and sometimes on special occasions, diving into some fanfiction.

"I'll see you later (Y/n)." He sent me a sly wink and headed the other way.

Heading to class I took my seat, which was far from the front. I was glad about the seating arrangement, it could allow me to read while the teacher couldn't see me.

My desk mate, whose name I'm not even sure about, came and did his routine.

He also took advantage of being in the back but he used it on video games. I'm not sure why, but I guess we have different hobbies.

To be honest, I didn't even know his name. He was so quiet, two toned hair covering his eyes and gave about half of the time.

However, then again so am I.

Occasionally, I'd look up at the board to see if there was anything I needed to write down or listen to. As always, it was pure nothingness.

When the last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder. As I walked through the halls I continued my book because no bell is going to keep me from figuring out the murder mystery in this book.

I haven't ever stayed after school to watch Kuroo practice volleyball. I didn't see a point in it, I mean, I know he's good at it. He leads his team to nationals.

I passed and heard the squeaking sounds of their shoes and some harsh noises of balls being spiked.

"Kenma! Set me another one!" I heard a familiar voice speak up loud.

However, it wasn't the voice that attracted my attention, it was the name.

Kenma?

"No, that's your fifth one." I heard an annoyed voice speak from the gym.

I had the urge to go take a peek but then stopped myself.

Why should I? I have better things to be doing, like tidying up my room a bit and catching up on my weekend book.

Switching books occasionally wasn't a problem because my parents would always buy me more. I could even use my library card to go get more if needed be.

This meant that I had a huge bookcase filled with my favorite books in my room.

After securing my book mark, I glared up at the sunny sky. It pissed me off. I don't understand how someone could like sunny days over rainy ones.

After getting my house key from my pocket I unlocked my door. My parents did business work at the same office but would always get off late at night.

With that being said, I set my school bag down and grabbed my pink cleaning apron to start the process. I did a bit more than what I usually do, mopping the floors and dusting high places isn't a good match with someone like me.

When I got finished, I headed downstairs after tying my (h/c) hair up into a low bun and tied my cooking apron on me.

Just because my parents are gone doesn't mean that I can order pizza every night. And quite frankly, it gets boring.

I got started on an easy dinner, seeing as I wanted to get it over with. I felt like baked spaghetti was the easiest it was going to get considering I wanted a fulfilling meal.

After eating, a thought snuck into my head. I have to waste a perfectly rainy day on someone who probably wants to go out or something.

Why not just stay in the comfort of your bed and slob around in snacks and books? This is exactly why if there was a male version of me, I'd marry him immediately.

After cleaning the dishes I headed upstairs and started on my night routine. I grabbed an oversized grey shirt which said 'Do I care?' and some black shorts.

Knowing myself, that'd also be the outfit I'd wear when this 'Kenma' comes over tomorrow. I wasn't actively looking for a boyfriend so there's no reason to impress him.

Now that I thought about it, there wasn't anything weird I heard about Kenma from anyone.

I mean, I guess he got some love confessions from girls but he didn't waste his time on it.

I couldn't blame him, why waste your time on falling in love, which only ends in heartbreak by the way, when you can fall in love with fictional characters who'd never break your heart?

With those thoughts running through my mind, I set my book on my nightstand and turned off my lamp.

Now it's time for fanfiction, a small but devilish smile made its way onto my face as I opened Wattpad.

I'd always loved reading these, especially when they were about my favorite fictional character. I die inside a bit every day when I remember they aren't real.

Little did I know, I had stayed up a tad bit too late and before I knew it, it was 7:03 am.

I mentally cursed myself for doing this yet again. My eye lids were heavy and needed sleep however it was like some kind of drug to read fanfics.

I furrowed my brows and sat up hastily, shouldn't my parents have come in?

Pushing back my white covers with small pink roses on them, I grabbed a large red hoodie to go over my sweatshirt and some fuzzy socks. I headed to their room, surprisingly, it was empty.

I started getting worried and wondered if they had gotten in a crash or decided not to deal with me anymore. My parents weren't neglectful or anything but the anxiety didn't stop.

Those thoughts were the usual ones I'd always get whenever they did not come home.

I rushed to my phone and checked my messages, I didn't like getting notifications so I always turned on my reading focus mode.

Messages from my mom and dad came up on my notification screen. They stated that they had an emergency business trip to take.

I texted them back and sighed, they always do this.

I'm never mad or anything, I just wish we could have quality family time. But at the same time, I'm glad all the 'what-if's' were gone from my head.

I headed downstairs to put the kettle on, I wanted to make a cup of vanilla tea, my favorite. I smiled and peeked outside to see the rain coming down a bit harshly.

One of the reasons I love having a tin roof is that you can hear the sounds clearer. It was the most beautiful sound I loved hearing.

Just when I was just about to sip my tea, the doorbell rang.

Confusion rang across my face. I don't think I was expecting anyone this early.

Racking my brain for an answer, I opened it expecting Kuroo because he's just always there.

Running a hand through my hair, "Kuroo, it's Saturday, go home." I looked up to see not Kuroo, but my deskmate.

I stiffened, embarrassed. I immediately looked at my fuzzy socks and quietly spoke, "Oh, uh, you must be K-Kenma." I stumbled, my eyes widened a bit. I never stumble over my words.

He nodded and looked all over my flushed cheeks and lazy outfit.

Like the dumbass I am, I finally realized that it was still raining and he was bound to get soaked by the gutters if I didn't let him in.

I motioned for him to come and he mumbled a quiet, "Thank you."

I watched him like a hawk as he took off his shoes, setting them neatly beside one another. I awkwardly headed back to the kitchen for my tea then went up the stairs with him following me. I mean where else is he gonna go?

Wait, would he think I'd want something from him by immediately inviting him into my room? I shoved the weird thought from my mind and focused on where he was.

I sat on my unmade bed and grabbed my book from my nightstand. I clicked on the lamp, which was a beautiful, white flower lily.

"Uh, make yourself a home?" I questionably said, I never have been in a situation like this before.

I crossed my legs and opened my book as he sat on the edge of my bed which was weird. I had a white Ikea desk with a swirly chair, a reading nook in the corner, and a window seat. And yet, he sat on the edge of my bed.

After reading for a few minutes, I couldn't focus into my book. I mean, there's a strange sitting across from me. I looked up and he was playing on a switch.

That went on for hours.

Kenma had moved onto my bed more, sitting against the wall. His legs were crisscrossed and he was still playing his game.

I had leaned off the edge of my bed where half of my body was dangling off of it. I was hanging upside down and reading my book.

Kenma and I had settled into a comfortable silence and acknowledgment of each other. We hadn't touched but occasionally our eyes would meet when he lost a round or I discovered something juicy from my book.

The rain hadn't stopped which I was grateful for. I could feel the hunger rumbling in my stomach and I telling by his facial expression, Kenma was getting hungry too.

I sat up, earning the look of Kenma's curious eyes on me. I walked out of my room with the feeling of something that can only be described as nervousness in my belly.

I grabbed snacks from the kitchen, I wasn't sure how he felt about 'healthier' type snacks but it was all I had due to my distaste for 'junk' food. I returned  with the snacks and two bottles of water and two bottles of sugar free snapple.

Setting it all down on my bed, I took a few swings of my water while eating alongside him.

We resumed what we were doing after about fifteen minutes of silent eating

I guess Kenma had gotten comfortable with me because after eating he had set my legs in his lap. Well of course, asked me with his eyes, which honestly surprised me. He still had his eyes glued to the screen of his Nintendo switch.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang which made me jump. I had just gotten over the feeling of surprise from my legs in his lap and got to a good reading spot.

I sluggishly got up irritated at who would be at my door for the second time today. When opening it, I was faced with a bed-headed cat and his usual cheeky smirk. 

"What do you want Kuroo?" I asked quietly, afraid he would disturb my peace and quiet like he usually does. He waltzed right in, ignoring my question.

"Oya, so how are you two love birds doing? Hitting it off well?" He loudly spoke, which made me wince.

Kuroo headed up to my room with me, of course, trailing along. We found Kenma sitting how I left him, he was there snacking on my veggie chips.

"We're not lovebirds Kuroo." Kenma spoke up as my ears perked up from hearing his voice.

"What are you doing here?" I repeated my question and got myself comfortable with Kenma again.

He stared at us, his eyes following back and forth before trailing at my legs on Kenma's lap.

"Definitely lovebirds. Friends don't just lay the way you two are." His mischievous grin was irritating.

I gave him a 'you're a dumbass' look and glanced at Kenma.

"No kuroo, we aren't dating. Even if we were, I don't think we'd tell you," I said calmly picking my book up. I wasn't going to waste my precious time on a dumbass like him.

I saw Kenma nod, out the corner of my eye, he agreed with me.

"And what exactly have you and Kenma been doing?" One eye brown perched up on his ridiculous face, funny enough, the only eye brow we could see from his haircut.

"We've been lying here," Kenma answered for me and this time it was my turn to nod.

"So you're telling me, I set you two up and all you've been doing is playing games and reading.." Kuroo stood there dumbfounded.

"No, not exactly, we did eat some." I gestured over to the pile of half eaten snacks set in the middle of my bed.

"You two are hopeless...and made for each other." His voice trailed off as he left my room.

I perked an ear, trying to listen and see if he was gonna leave my house, and he did.

I snickered, returning to my book, I admit that my eyes needed new attention and that Kenma with his two toned hair was thinking the same thing.

"What do you want to do?" I hesitantly asked Kenma as he set his game down and me with my book.

"Can we make something?"

"Uh sure, I think my mom bought some ingredients for cupcakes last week. Is that alright?" I asked getting up and marking my book while setting it on my nightstand.

He nodded and we headed downstairs with Kenma in front of me now. I never really noticed it since we've mostly been sitting down but he's taller than me.

A strange thought came to mind as I was thinking of our conversation.

'A child.'

My eyes widened and my heart rate sped up. I cursed at myself for ever thinking that. What the hell? I've just known the guy for a couple of hours and I'm already thinking of a child? I've been reading too much lately.

I breathed out a sigh and tied my apron back once we were in the kitchen. I held out an extra apron for Kenma and he gladly took it.

"Three eggs please," I said reading the instructions from the cupcake box I grabbed from the cabinet. I decided to reach up and grab the flour from there while I was at it.

Once he found the eggs in the fridge, he broke the eggs into a glass bowl, making sure not to get any eggshells in the mixture.

'He can break my back.'

What the fuck (y/n)? Where are all these thoughts coming from?

Probably from the lack of sleep your dumbass got.

That's great. Now I'm talking to myself and responding.

I suddenly got nervous while pouring some flour in and accidentally got it on Kenma's chest. I fucking need sleep, how in the hell?

"Oh god, I'm so sorry." I nervously spoke trying to get it off. He raised a brow, took some flower and plopped it on my head.

I paused, just staring at him with my jaw dropped.

Holding eye contact, I grabbed up a handful of flour and threw it on his hair too. I cracked a smile as he shook his head and the flour flew out like snow.

Soon, we were throwing tons of flour on each other, the kitchen had become a war zone. Mind and his laughs were bouncing off the walls in the kitchen.

I squealed as he shoved some down the back of my hoodie.

"Kenma!" I threw my head back in laughter as I chased him around my kitchen, I wanted to put some down his pants.

"You're never going to get me!" He smiled at me. I felt my heart almost stop, he looked.. cute. Which was completely new for me.

I could feel my cheeks start to flush until an idea sparked in my head. I grabbed an egg from the carton and threw it at him.

This time it was his turn to stare at me with his jaw dropped. Just like the flour war, next came the eggs, then cocoa, and cupcake mixture.

At this point, we were the cupcakes just unbaked.

"Payback, (y/n)." Kenma whispered in my ear, making me shiver, or maybe it was the cold water that was just dumped on my head.

I gasped loudly, flailing my arms every which way. Kenma stood by me laughing, with his arms holding his stomach. What a lovely sound, it was pure happiness.

I smirked and shook my long hair next to him, the ingredients getting on him. Finally, it came to an end when we got tired of throwing ingredients at each other.

I went to the pantry to grab two hand towels that I didn't care to use to clean us up.

"What in the hell.." I looked up after cleaning my face with a towel. I saw Kuroo standing in the doorway, confusion drawn on his face like no other.

"What the hell did you two do?" He asked astonished at us and the messed up kitchen. I mean, it was a sight to see. I haven't had this much engaging fun in forever.

I started giggling at the mess and Kenma looked at me and started laughing alongside me.

"I leave and you two are sitting on your bed, all quiet and calm. But when I come back you two are making the biggest mess in all of history," He exclaims his eyes bolting around the room and his movements a little frantic.

"Kenma, can you help me clean up please?" I asked nicely and headed over to get the dishwater started.

"Yes ma'am," he said and smirked, bringing his hand up and sprinkling sugar above my head.

I sniffed by accident then sneezed when there was a molecule of sugar in my nose. I looked up at him afterwards and what looked like blush was coating his cheeks.

Smiling innocently, I took the dish hose and sprayed him lightly.

I earned a gasp and high-pitched but slightly drawn out, "(Y/n)." from him.

Before he could say anything else Kuroo's loud voice came over us.

"So you two are dating? Hitting it off well, oya?" He asked with a smirk that only seemed to hint at other things.

I glanced up at Kenma and he looked down at me.

It seemed as if they both silently agreed to ignore him. In our midst of cleaning, a grumbling Kuroo finally decided to help. The only things in the kitchen un cleaned were Kenma and I.

"Do you want to stay over and shower or..?" I waited for an answer while taking off my large hoodie, revealing my larger shirt underneath.

My hair was filled with gross food, well, technically cupcake ingredients.

"I guess I could stay over. I'll text my mo-"

"I'm staying over too." Kuroo announced without even asking.

I looked back at Kuroo to see if he has lost his damn mind.

"The hell? Just do whatever you want I guess." I rolled my eyes at him.

I was honestly surprised by my acts today, I'm not usually an outgoing person and yet I liked how today went. But I can also tell that Kenma isn't either.

"I'll go to my parents' shower, you two take a shower together or separately, I don't care." I smiled and gathered my things after giving Kenma my brother's clothes. He was in college so I doubt that he'd mind.

After I was done, I seriously thought that they had taken a shower together but it turns out they just took short ones. Who knows? I was in the shower trying to get egg out of my hair. I couldn't have had hot water either, it would've cooked them.

Instead of making an actual dinner meal like yesterday, I decided to order pizza just so Kuroo could shut up about it.

"You know Kuroo, I'm picking up actions that Bokuto would use. Not a good sign," I said and turned on a movie in my room.

"Hey! That's mean- oh." He realized, I guess he must've been spending much more time with him. Not a problem in my book though.

I was eager to sleep since I hadn't got any last night. Kenma and Kuroo slept on the air mattress we had blown up in the middle of my floor.

I dived underneath my covers, not even having time to adjust before I fell into a deep slumber.

I woke up from a gentle poke to my shoulder. I peeked up one eye and saw Kenma hovering over me. Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my eyes for better sight.

"Kenma? What's wrong?" I eyed my clock, it was one in the morning.

"Kuroo took over the air mattress. I'm gonna sleep with you." He softly spoke and lightly scooted me over to the wall.

"Uh, okay I guess?" I whispered, not sounding so sure but was too full of sleep to really think about it.

I closed my eyes and waited for Kenma to stop moving so I could sleep.

"(Y/n)? About what Kuroo said, if we were to date we wouldn't tell him right?" His voice talked into the darkness.

This meant that I couldn't really see his face, I could only guess what he was hinting at.

"Oh..yeah.." I answered, sobering up from sleep.

"Well, can we do the-uh, dating e-eachother." He stumbled over his words which made me smile a bit.

My face was burning underneath the covers that he could easily steal away from me.

"I think I'd like that very much, Kenma." I smiled, not stumbling over my words.

I felt an arm pull me closer to his chest and kiss my cheek. My heart beat like a drum inside my chest as I tried to find my slumber again. The weight of his arm around my waist. The kiss on my cheek. The warmth of-

"Goodnight, (Y/n)." Kenma's voice rang out, soothing my thoughts.

I smiled softly and closed my eyes. I guess this kind of love wasn't a waste of time after all.

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a/n: this is from my “Haikyuu x Reader Oneshots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you want more!

the header is from lena!! on Pinterest