#kill joy valentine

[poolboyservice]

okay, so I never rlly post about Skullgirls, but I need to show y'all this because OH MY GOD???

so yk how for the monthly event in Skullgirls: Mobile it's all summer themed and stuff, right? so, I got the monthly event relic from the prize fight and I decided "hey, why not screen record?" cuz sure I will probably get a plain old silver, but it'll still be nice to look back on

and....

DO MY EYES DECEIVE?????

I NOT ONLY GET A FUCKING SHINY, BUT IT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE VARIANTS NO LESS!!!!

never in my 2+ years of being an avid Skullgirls player did I ever think I'd actually get a shiny Valentine, like, this was in the "completely impossible" category of dreams for me

I'm!?!?$!_+_+ I may literally draw specifically this fighter solely because of how hyped I am oh my god

[shippingchaii]

i know none of you care but the dead island 2 dlc came out a couple days ago n i was only able to play for like 30 mins today and i fear im back into the brainrot. ive been obsessed w dead island since i was in like the 5th grade and when i tell you . when i tell you i always go back to it.

and also idk if anybody agrees and idgaf if im the only one but guys ryan is so fine you don't understand he's a silly little stripper especially in that juggalo skin i literally repeatedly checked amazon gaming every other day for like 6-8 months straight specifically for his skin to drop since they were doing them one by one i had the tab literally open for months you do NOT understand how mental i am about it. you don't know what a crazy BITCH i am for it

[grugruel]

Saint, or Sinner.

Parings: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: You've had feelings for Arthur for quite some time now, but little did you know. That he has them for you, too.

After a rowdy night in Valentine, the group flees lawmen and end up in Strawberrys hotel. Whatever will occur?

Word count: 8.9 k

Warnings: Micha being Micah, bar fight/violence, plot with smut, mutual pining, soft Arthur, pinv sex, passionate sex, oral sex (f recieving), praise, pet names (girl, sweetheart), choking, fingering, handjob, creampie, mentioned masturbation.

AN: The words ran away from me, holy shit. It's so much longer than I intended.

Muffled voices argued in the night, soon growing into angry shouts. Rousing me from my sleep, confused, I put my gown on in a hurry. Sleep ridden eyes in a dark tent were not doing me any favors. I pulled the flap to the side and stumbled out of the tent, the voices creating one hell of a commotion.

Just as I did, most of the camp had awoken and joined in on the argument, gladly contributing their own heated opinions on the matter. All except Duch and Arthur, much to my dismay.

My eyes adjusted to the scene before me, the assailants quickly becoming clear. Standing around the campfire, was Micah of course, the center of attention as usual. Stood half shouting at John, who's pot seemed to be boiling over.

Soon after, John unleashed a rant on Micahs stupitidy, throwing in every word he could manage in his steaming anger.

I rolled my eyes, what could that damned fool possibly have done now?

'You piss ridden, moldy rat bastard.' John shouts, seamingly leaving Micah lost for words.

Bill bursts out laughing, slapping his knee at the insult, 'You big fuckin nuthead Micah. . .' He sighs, catching his breath.

Even Hosea snickers, 'Hes right, and that's coming from Bill of all folk.'

I cover my mouth as a giggle leaves my lips, seeing Micah so dumbfounded really sobered my mood. The rest of the girls have a simular reaction.

Micahs eyes narrow on me, 'What are ya' laughing at sweetheart. I ought to teach ya' a lesson.' He snarls, greasy hair hanging over his face.

The camp falls silent, none too appreciative of his choice of words. My mood turn sour again and a chill runs up my spine. The first to call him out was Sadie, 'Someone hold me back.' She spits, Sean stepping in to fo judt that.

Second was Miss Grimshaw, 'The money and now you threathen the girl, have you gone and lost your mind Micah Bell?' disgust evident on her face.

The money? What money?

John took a threatening step toward him, very displeased with Micahs comment, hands forming into fists at his sides. Hosea too, gave him a a bemused look.

'Try anything Bell, and I'll cut your fucking balls off.' I spit, glaring at him, feeling incredible joy in the way his face falls.

Muffled chuckles surround me, 'Thats my Girl.' Sadie laughs, along with a low, approving whistle from Javier.

'Whats goin' on here?' A gruff voice cuts in, looking between me and Micah.

Arthur, flanked by Dutch.

Arthur, shirtless. Flanked by Dutch.

In all my anger, my eyes cant help but sneak a hasty glance at his broad chest. Then quickly averting it, afraid he'd notice. I clear my throat, trying to keep my thoughts in check, 'He threatened me.'

That was enough for Arthur, not doubting me for a second. Fixed himself straight up with murder in his eyes, then walked at the man, readying his fists for a beating.

Butterflies fluttered within me.

Unsurprisingly, Micah cowered. Taking quick cautionary steps backward before Dutch could jump in, throwing his arm in front of Arthur and stopping him in his tracks. John looks at the two men, directing an accusing finger on Micah, 'Not only that, this blasted idiot took our money.'

The moment of joy from Micahs humiliation disappear, turning into anger once again. The camp giving him a mutual glower.

Arthur runs a hand through his hair, 'I ought to kill you.' He speaks, gritting his teeth, and takes another firm step forward. Pushing the limits of Dutch's patience, who strengthens the hold on Arthur.

'Surely, there must be a reasonable explanation for this?' Dutchs says, forcing a smile and shooting Micah an expectant look. Giving him an undeserved chance at explaining himself. Although he didn't show it, he too, was bemused.

'Well- I wanted to invest it, make it grow. I just wanted to help the camp.' Micah preached, his voice sleazy and confident. Telling the sure as shit, bull of an excuse as if he was the one to feel sorry for. Despite the circumstances.

Sighing, 'He god damned gamled it all away.' John reveals, looking ready to kill the man himself. The camp erupts into a loud argument once again, everyone getting a piece in.

I sneak a glance at Arthur, his chest rising and falling in big breaths, trying his hardest to stay calm. 'Bastard.' He mutters under his breath, Dutch giving him a quick warning glance.

'Shut!–' a hoarse voice calls out, '–Up!' Dutch yells, and obediently, we all fall silent. 'Theres no use, standin' around screamin'. You fools are attracting unwanted attention.' Dutch says, hands on his hips, 'Who won the funds.'

'Some rich bastard up in Strawberry.' Micahs sly voice cut through the night.

Dutch rubs his forehead in thought, 'Then he can do without it, go back there and grab it.' An exasperated sigh leaving him, 'Arthur, John, Bill, Charles.' He rounds the men up, 'You go there with him.' He turns to go back to his tent, but pauses and shouts, 'And no!–' dragging the words out, '–Deaths!' He looks at Micah, knowing damn well he'd otherwise murder the mans entire family in cold blood, then points to Arthur, 'That means you too, Arthur.' He says, a tired tone to his words. Clearly insinuating that he wanted Micah alive.

Everyone scatters, going back to bed on edge. But I linger, tucked away behind the tentflap. I watch Arthur come back out of his tent, in full get up. Silently praying that'd they'd be alright, that he would be. I did not care what happened to Micah, I hoped the man would get shot right between the eyes. I would personally love to see to it, I hoped Arthurs hatred for the man would get the better of him. Dutch always went way to easy on Micah, I didn't understand it, but something wasn't quite right with it.

Abigail kisses John goodbye, it made me happy to see them back together and all made up. I watch Arthur leave his tent in full get up, then stride past my tent. He gets on his horse with the rest of them, and ride past the treeline of Horseshoe overlook. No doubt berating Micah all the way to Strawberry.

I laid down in my bed, trying my damndest to sleep. But worry was keeping me up, eating away at me. Something didn't feel right.

He'd heard his words to her, him threatening her. Horrifying images cloud his mind, filling him with rage all over again. No doubt things he'd done before. He glanced a glare at the man, ugly mut.

Had Dutch not been there to stop him, Micah would've found his face beaten bloody and Arthur grinning on top of him. Had he not been loyal to the camp, to his people, to Dutch. Micah wouldn't be returning from this trip. He would conveniently get a bullet to his head, or found on the bottom of a valley, beaten unrecognizable before the fall had caused the killing blow.

He didnt want any harm coming to her. He'd never felt this for a woman, not ever. He'd steal glances, admire her when she wasn't looking. Damn well kill for her. She was the light he had needed for so long, her charming smile could shine brighter than any star he'd ever seen.

'You taken a likin' to her, Morgan?'

John raised his head at that, paying closer attention to the conversation, to Arthur. Knowing the possibility of him flying off the handle.

'Shut up if you know what's good for you Micah.' Charles scolded.

He scoffed, 'The day I listen to–' Micha looks Charles up and down, lingering on the color of his skin, 'The likes of you,' he continues, 'Will be my last.' Muttering the last words.

Ignoring him, Charles didn't do as much as raise an eyebrow. Micah did not deserve a reaction.

Micah was black rot, down to his core. Destorying everything he touched. We all knew it, but all aren't so keen to admit it. Dutch was the first person to come to mind, I couldn't understand for the life of me why he was so defensive of the man.

'I can see why.' Micah spoke again, 'Pretty little thing, isn't she?' He looked at Arthur, 'Got a big mouth on her too.'

John looked between the two men, noting the way Arthur fisted his reins, no doubt knuckles turning white under his gloves. Along with the way he kept his head straight ahead, focused on not killing the man, 'Micah, keep her off your tongue.' John warned, 'I don't care for you, but I don't want the heat from Dutch when you're found dead.' His raspy voice referring to him and Arthur.

Charles looked at the men in silent agreement, he preferred staying out of camp conflicts. But she was a woman dear to the camp, touching her would bode ill for any man.

And ad usual, the big idiot doesn't listen, 'Wouldn't mind takin' her for a ride one of these nights.' He said, the self-righteous smile he bore evident even in his tone. There was no need to look at him to know it.

Bill had been staying out of it, but he could feel the anger radiating off of Arthur. Enough to switch sides, hanging back, then stearing his horse up next to Arthur instead of Micah. Just in case a bullet would come flying.

And wouldn't you know it, Arthur reached into his holster and pulled his finest revolver, aiming it at the sorry excuse of a man. All in one quick motion, he'd been labeled as a dangerous for a reason. John sighed, now he'd done it.

Micah, dropped his reins. Raising his hands in the air, keeping a smug expression on his face. But beneath, he was scared witless.

'Strawberry up ahead.' Charles called, not caring much for the action behind him. Killing Micah would only do the camp good, but a gunshot would give their location away.

'Not another word of her.' Arthur began, 'Touch 'er–' He warns, 'And I'll let her kill ya'.' His voice gravelly and threatening, but Micah scoffed at the notion.

The familiar click off a safety lever sounds out, and the color drains from Micahs face.

'House is just up ahead.' Charles cut in, 'I'd suggest you wait wait with this til we got the funds.'

With a final glare, he holsters his gun and rides up to Charles. Clearing a hill, the house comes into view. Arthur sighs, 'Damn it Micah, you didnt tell us this feller had security.'

'You scared of a little fightin' pretty boy?' Micah mocked.

With a scoff from Arthur, they hitch their horses and pull up their bandanas, setting about proving the rumors of the infamouse Van Der Linde gang.

I anxiously checked my father's old pocket watch. It had been a few hours now. I put it down, tried to think of other things, and then picked it up again. Another 5 minutes had passed. Christ. I couldn't bear losing Arthur, John or Charles, god forbid all three of them. Bill could be sweet, but only when he needed something. I couldn't even dare imagine John leaving Abigail and Jack behind. What would they do? Stay with the gang, of course, but. . . Goodness, what about Arthur? My thoughts were racing ahead of me.

A few more minutes pass, then I hear hoofbeats, relief flods through me. It's hard to count, but theres at least three horses. God, let it be the right three. I emerge from my tent, along with Miss Grimshaw, Abigail, the rest of the girls, and Dutch. I race up to Abigail, holding eachothers hands as we watch the treeline in silence. Relying on each other for support.

Eventually, they break through. All five horses returning with their men on top of them, secretly I curse. One of the could've gotten lost and the world would've been a better place for it. I stroke Abigails back while John sees to his horse, then walks up to us, taking her in his arms and spinning her in a circle. They laugh, and a tinge of jealousy spark inside me. Yet I'm more than happy for them.

I observe the rest of them, they seem to be unharmed. All except. . . Arthur, his white shirt covered in blood. The terror must've been evident on my face, because–

'Hes fine.' John spoke, 'Most of it aint even his.' He said in an effort to calm me.

I nodded, smiling faintly 'Thank you John.' And sqeezed his arm.

'Well–' Dutch called out, 'How'd it go?' He looked at them, expecting nothing but grandeur.

'We got more than we bargained for. . ' John said, grinning. But there was something else his tone.

Bill unloaded his horse and came carrying several saddlebags, throwing them at our feet, money spilling out 'We got what we came for—' He paused, then pulled out two more bags from vehind his back, 'And more!' He burst out in a self-satisfied laugh.

I had to say, they made the best out of a bad situation. And on top of it all, Micah had barely made a sound, he was strangely quiet.

Dutch patted Bill and John on the back, 'Good work, wake the rest. Let us celebrate!' He clapped his hands together, no doubt imagining Tahiti.

I searched for him in the crowd of people as the camp was waking up, and found him talking to Charles and Sadie at the edge of the camp, clutching his side. Worry gnawed at me. They joined us by the campfire while Arthur headed into his tent, not saying much of nothing to anyone else.

The festivities carried out throughout the night, Arthurs lamp remained turned on. Eventually, I just had to check up on him.

I snuck away from the folk, Abigail and John had already turned in, as had Dutch and Molly. Seemed like the singles were the only ones left drinking, and Micah had disappeared to sulk somewhere. Lucky us.

I left them to it and approached his tent, 'Arthur?' I called, but didn't get an answer. I just heard some huffing from the inside.

I risked his reaction and pulled the flap to the side, 'Arth-' I began, but got cut off by the sight. In front of me was Arthur Morgan, shirt pushed up over his stumache, cowboy hat on, stitching up his own wound. Sitting on a stool, his pants were unbuttoned and folded down by the hip, revealing that beautiful "V" shape along with a happy trail of hair leading down toward, well. . . A new cut stretched from his hip to his abdomen, blood covered his hands and side, groaning as he pulled a needle through his skin. Something set off inside me, a yearning that made my body ache. He scarcely even noticed me, not until I gasped.

He looked up, eyes widening, 'You need somethin' Girl?' He blurted out, taken off guard. His state of undress did not help.

'Arthur Morgan. . .' I sighed, slightly offended, 'You shouldve fetched me, you know im good at stitchin' wounds.'

'I know, I know. 'm sorry sweetheart.' smiling faintly, 'Didnt wanna bother you.' He drawled.

I also noticed a mostly empty bottle of whiskey next to him, hoping he used most of it to disinfect the wound. I put my hands on my hips, 'Will you let me help?'

He nodded and handed me the needle, fingers brushing against eachother as I grabbed it.

Our eyes met, briefly. Sharing a glance that was ment to be stolen.

He leaned back against his dresser, the muscle of his upper body changing and rippling with his movements.

I cleared my throat and stepped closer, 'May I?' I asked, pointing at his shirt.

'You may.' He smirked.

I leaned closer to him, unbuttoning from top to bottom. Then pushing the shirt over his shoulder so it'd stay clear from his wound. I kneeled in front of him, his legs spread so I could get closer to the cut, then resting my elbows on his strong thigh to steady my arms.

I tried to focus on the wound, but it proved hard as I was so close to his crotch and how closely he was observing me.

'Might I ask what happened?' I bit my lip in focus, threading the needle through his skin.

'More men than expected.' He answered with a grunt, looking at my lips. Blood rushing somewhere it ought not to, 'One jumped out on me.' He continued, his voice husky and strained.

'He live to tell the tale?' I asked, searching his gaze. Hoping he'd be sincere.

'He did. . .' He groaned, as I finished another stitch. Making the aching settle in my core, a pulse running through me. Every now and then, when I believed him not to be looking. My eyes roamed his chest, studying his strong pecks and biceps.

'You know anything about Micahs sudden tongue-tie?' I ask, locking eyes with him. He lowers his head with a chuckle, a smirk poking out from under his hat.

'I might've. . . Given him something to think about.' He shrugs, the corner of his lip tugging.

Sighing, a smile spreads over my lips 'Youre a good man, Arthur Morgan.' I told him earnestly, 'Better than most.' I finished the last stitch and looked at him, 'All d-' I began, but he cut me off.

His lips greeting mine in a passionate kiss, lasting a whole second. But it was the best second I'd had in years. He pulled back, a horrified look on his face. Immidietly regretting it.

Surprised, I did not quite know what to say. 'Arthur, Im- You- You're drunk. .' I blurted, thinking it was the alcohol taking action. Nothing else.

'I'm–' He looked at me, searching for words 'You're right, I- I probably am. Apologies miss.' He managed.

I cursed myself, why'd he have to be drunk? He'd never remember that this even happened tomorrow.

'No- no. That's fine, don't worry. I didnt-' I tried, I didn't mind it. In fact I loved it, is that so hard to say? 'I should, uhm- let you sleep, you need to rest.' Idiot.

'I s'pouse so.' Was all he said, shock and regret still lingering between us.

'Well, good night. . . Mr Morgan.' I said, and he winced. Quickly, I took my leave.

'Night ma'am.' He called after me.

It felt like fleeing the scene of a crime. Bashing myself for the the formal good night, we were way past such pleasantires. It felt like a blow to even utter the words, even though I usually call him Mr Morgan. But it's always in a teasing way. Never formal and distant like this was.

Goodness gracious, what had I done?

I tucked myself under the covers in my own tent, thoughts circling my mind. I could not tear myself away from the smell of him, his musk, his broad build. Or the way sweetheart sounded as it rolled of his tongue, the way his tongue felt against my own. A hand snaked between my thighs, relieving myself of the ache he'd caused. Then slowly, I drifted off to sleep. With nothing but him on my mind.

You god damned fool Arthur, why'd you have scare her away? Old bastard, he thought to himself. Seeing her by his tent had startled him, but her gentle touch and sweet voice was all the comfort he'd needed. It took the sting right out of the needle. He'd used the bottle to clean the wound, but letting her think he was drunk was easier than the truth.

He'd took a liking to her from the moment he laid eyes on her, but she would never feel the same way. She'd called him Mr Morgan, as if the last year of building a relation with her had disintigrated within a second. It stung, real bad. Worse than a knife ever would. Yet that kiss made it all worth it her soft lips against his, her sweet taste. Feeling her breath on his skin as she undid his buttons, and seein' you like that? Kneeling between his legs, so close to him. It was a memory he would cherish through thick and thin, a memory that would keep him up at night. A memory that made him hard in an instant, he let out a frustrated groan. Silenty taking care of it, pretty images of her occupying his mind as he did. Finally, he began drifting off to sleep. And he only had one thing on his mind. She'd called him a good man, that's all that mattered to him.

A week passed, and we'd had a few shallow interactions. Nothing serious, but resembling the akwardness we experienced in his tent, it made my heart sore. I always found a reason to talk to him, to be near him. So when to opportunity arrived once again, I jumped on it. We'd had a full day of chores, but needed to head into Valentine for a supply run, to stock up on things like ammo and vegetables. And just generally take a look around town, see what else we could find. But I don't have a horse of my own, and since Lenny and Sean were taking the wagon.

I found myself in need of a ride.

The sun had begun its final stretch before setting, meaning the light was golden and beautiful. The warm spring air was gradually turning chilly, but in the most soothing way. I joined the crew by the horses, 'Who's willin' to give a lady a ride.' I asked coyly.

Arthurs mouth fell open, as if he was about to speak, but quickly closed it again. 'I always got space for you, girl.' Sadie winked.

'Stop that. . You ol' charmer.' I smile shyly. Arthur couldn't help but smile, nothing but admiration I'm his eyes for you.

'Well-' Micah began, and I immediately rolled my eyes. Arthur glaring daggers at him.

'Shut it, and shave that overgrown squirell off your face.' Sadie interrupted him, Sean erupting into laughter at the comment.

'Why are we even bringin' him? We don't need that kind of trouble today.' I pointed out.

'Cause I say so, sweetheart.' He leers, smugness radiating off of him.

My stumache churns, my dinner almost catching its second wind, 'Dont call me that.' I turn serious.

Micah laughs, about to respond-

'You heard her.' Arthur stops him, making him reconsider opening his mouth again. Instead he opts to mutter under his breath, no doubt the most vile and cruel things too.

John joins us to help get the wagon in order, then sen dus off. Changing the subject back, 'Arthur got the most space.' John points out, 'I'm sure he wouldn't mind.' He winks at me subtly, and I blush. John Marston, you godsend.

'That okay with you Arthur?' I ask, looking up at him with big eyes.

'Course, c'mon sweetheart.' He jumps out of the saddle, grabs me by the waist, and helps me onto his tall, dark shire.

I yelp, unprepared for his strength. He gets back on, placing himself behind me, then grabs the reins on either side of me, capturing me in his big frame. I can honestly say, that I've never felt safer. A content smile covers my lips.

Sadie chuckles at the two of us, the chuckle turning into pure laughter when she sees Micahs expression. Gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, glaring at us, probably furious by my blatant approval of Arthurs use of sweetheart.

And with that, we begin our journey into town. Lenny and Sean were singing behind us, Sadie leading the way ahead of us. And Micah? I didn't bother finding out where he was.

Feeling Arthurs warmth behind me was all I cared about, his chest and thighs rubbing up against me with every step of his horse. It was doing something to me.

As the sun dove deeper, the cool in the air grew. Involuntary shivers took ahold of my body, 'You cold, girl?' He asked.

I shook my head, 'No, I'll be fine. Thank you though, Arthur.' My voice hackig as a particularly violent shiver shook my body, making my teeth clattered against eachother.

'Dont you lie to me, you're freezin'.' He says, worry lacing his tone, 'Take the reins.' That was an order.

I did and his hands slid between us, unbuttoning his jacket. Knuckles brushing against my back, all the way along my spine, ending at the arch of my back. Sending shivers in waves all over my body. 'Scooch down.' He orders again. Slightly hesitant, I slide backward. My ass tucked neatly again his crotch and my back flush again his chest. With his jacket still on, he wraps it around my sides, nearly covering my entire upper body. Sharing eachothers heat, trapping it between us.

'Arthur. .' I breathe, lust coursing through me. But it must've sounded as a protest because-

'-Dont start.' He said, 'My jacket is big enough for the both of us. Now hand me the reins, darlin.'

Oh you wonderful, oblivious man.

I gave them back to him and tugged his jacket closer around me, leaning impossibly closer to him. Gradually, my shivers disappeared, all thanks to the large, warm bear of a man behind me.

'See? Told ya'.' His body shook gently with a silent chuckle.

'You're somethin' else Mr Morgan.' I sighed and this time, the words felt right.

He smiled, she didnt see it, thankfully. Everything she did, made him smile. She was so close to him, and he had indirectly caressed her back. He could've leaned back and given her space, but he craved her. It was intimate and special. He'd not felt so peaceful since she stitched him up last week. Everything he did was at her service. Now she sat between his legs, grinding up against him. Not to her knowledge though, she just moved her hips to the step of the horse, riding like a woman should. But unbeknownst to her, she was feeding a hunger he fought hard to contain. Head in the lions mouth and all.

'Whats on that mind of yours Arthur?' She asked, 'I can feel you thinkin' from 'ere.' Shuddering against him, is she still cold?

If she only knew, what was goin' through his mind. How he thought of you every waking moment, a sentiment she would never return.

'Nothin' special, you still feelin' cold? I can feel you shiverin' Girl.'

She froze for a second before she spoke, chuckling under her breath, 'No I ain't cold, but thank you again.' He could hear the smile on her lips.

What was it then?

'Is the cut heelin' good?' She asked, concern and something else lingering in her voice. The memory resurfaced in his mind, his blood setting about rushing places. He shut his eyes, trying to clean his mind before he answered. Clearing his throat first, 'Good, 'is gonna be a nice 'n clean scar.' His voice lightly strained.

'Well, I'm glad. You got enough of em' for my liking.' She huffed, annoyed at the notion of him always hurting himself.

He risked it, and leaned his head forward, almost touching her shoulder but not quite. Breathing in that sweet scent of hers. Telling himself that it wasn't such a strange thing to do. 'I'll survive, I always do. With your fine stitchin' It's impossibly not to.'

She blushed, turning her face away from his, a bit shy at his compliment. He loved the way her cheeks turned rosy, 'Thank you.' She said proudly, another shudder against him.

Damn it, wad she still cold or not?

He opted out of asking again. She'd just tell him no. So he took matters into his own hands, quite literally. He moved the reins into one hand and circled the other around her waist, pulling her closer. Figuring he could blame it on rough terrain, that he didn't want her to hurt her pretty self.

But she didn't protest, on the contrary. She made a sound, almost like she exhaled a moan under her breath. Then grabbed his thigh, rough terrain too, perhaps? 'Arthur. . .' She breathed.

'I apologise miss, I shouldn't ha–' He began.

'No, no. You should've.' Firm in her words. 'You, remember much from last week?' She asked.

'I do.' He breathed, a nervous shake to his voice.

'You werent drunk?'

'No ma'am.' He answered truthfully, 'I lied.'

'Why?' There was hurt in her voice, and something broke inside of him.

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully, afraid he'd hurt her more, 'Thought maybe it'd be best, since I stepped over a line.'

She scoffed, 'You didn't step over anything, Mr Morgan.'

'Well I. . .' He paused, 'You didnt seem to like it, thats all. Didnt want you to think I was takin' advantages.' He rambled an explanation.

'I didn't want to take advantage of you Mr Morgan.' She sounded annoyed, annoyed by this whole missunderstanding, 'Didnt want you kissin' me drunk, if it was, just cause you were drunk.' She explained, 'I thought you were drunk. . .' sighing.

Puzzle pieces were finally falling into place for the both of them.

'We're here!' Sadie called from the front.

Dissapointed, I sighed. Yet, relieved, I smiled.

Arthur jumped off, grabbed my waist and helped me down. His touch lingering as our eyes met, searching eachothers gazes for answers. Wondering, where to go from here. We were finally on the same page, and knowing he kissed me from his own free will put a sping in my step.

The group broke up, I headed with Sadie as the men got about their business. We looked at the guns first and foremost, then headed for the general store. I looked for Arthur as we walked from building to building, and saw him heading into the stables. I wondered if he was gonna treat himself to a new saddle. He deserved it.

We went about our list of things to buy, then gathered by the wagon. Collectively, we decided on a bar run before we rode back to camp. Lenny and Sean were particularly excited about the idea.

We ordered whiskey, drank and laughed. Sadie and Lenny stood between me and Arthur, resulting in a whole lot of meaningful glances. Just wishing we could talk some more.

At some point a woman had approached Arthur, laying her hand on his bicep, clearly flirting. And my blood ran cold.

I stood talking with Sean, who noticed my change in demeanour and looked over at them. 'Dont worry yourself girl.' He laughed, and I furrowed my brows. Not sure what he ment.

'You gonna buy a lady a drink?' The woman asked, her voice sultry. Now, my blood boiled.

Arthur chuckeled, 'I didnt know I was talking to a lady.' And glanced at her hand, which she immediately retracted upon noticing.

She scoffed, 'Aint that a nice way to treat a woman. You taken cowboy?' She asked, her eyes narrowing on him.

'Well. . .' He huffed, 'You could say that.'

My heart swelled at his comment.

'Told ye so.' Sean smirked, and I playfully hit him on the shoulder.

The night went on, and as most nights go in a saloon, a fight was bound to happen. Arthur must've been watching me, because within the next half minute. A man had walked up next to me, and was about to touch what wasnt his to touch. But Arthur appeared out of nowhere, his outlaw instics mustve been on high alert. The man did in fact look sleezy enough to attempt such a thing, Arthur grabbed the mans wrist in a bone breaking grib. 'You keep your hands to yourself mister.' He said, his voice low and threatening.

'Or what?' The man spit, and Arthur let go of him. Lowering his head, chuckling. That shouldve been the mans warning, but he didn't know Arthur like we did.

Backing me up, Sean whispered 'Get ready.' to Sadie, Lenny and me. Nodding to a table of thugs in the corner, they were staring at our group intently, watching the scene unfold.

Arthur jerked his head to the side and smirked under his hat, then in flash he gave the man a lethal right hook. Sending him flying backward. The thugs sprung up, heading for us with firm steps.

Holy shit. A full on brawl broke out, everyone lunged themselves on everyone. I delivered a right hook of my own as two guys were ganging up on Lenny. Another man tried getting handsy with me, he snuck up behind me and grabbed me around the waist. So I elbowed him hard in the side and threw my head back. Headbutting him, I turned around and pushed him off me. Taking great joy in the way his nose was gushing blood, I grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the crotch. With a whine, the man fell to the ground.

Even Micah joined in on the action, he'd been sitting still enjoying his whiskey beside us. Until he decided he wanted some fun too, apparently only he could be inappropriate with me. He smashed the glass over the head on the closest man, although im pretty sure he wasn't even apart of the brawl.

As the dust was settling and the lawmen had been called, we flew the coup. Arthur grabbed my hand and rushed us to our horses, not willing to risk leading the law back to camp, we rode hard and fast for Strawberry. Arthur was making a fuss about me on the ride there, asking if I was ok, and I assured him I was. 'Well. . . You got one hell of a hook girl.' He said, and I beamed with pride.

The gang had to act casual as we arrived to Strawberry, which proved futile with cuts and bruises as we asked for hotel rooms. But we ended up conning our way into possession of the last three hotel rooms. Bribing the clerk that is.

Arthur grabbed a key of his own, which nobody disputed. He gave me a meaningful look at and headed upstairs. Sadie grabbed a key and dragged me along with her. Leaving the last three men to argue about sharing a room, 'Shut up Micah, you're sleeping in the hall.' Sean shouted behind us. Turning around, I saw Micah slamming the doors open and storming out.

'I'll find a woman to warm me, dont ya' worry.' He shouted back, muttering under his breath.

We burst out laughing and ran to our room, but before we headed in, I grabbed her arm 'I'm just gonna go check on Arthur real quick.' I said, not thinking much of it.

'I'll not see you til the morning then.' She laughed, our stolen glances had apparently not been so stolen after all.

I rolled my eyes, 'We'll see.' And knocked on his door.

Lenny and Sean walked by, a low whistle accompanied by chuckles as they saw me standing there. But they quickly turned quiet when Arthur opened the door, standing in only his shirt and pants 'May I come in?' I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

'Course.' He smirked, and opened the door wider, stepping out of my way. My side brushing against him as I entered. His vest and jacket lay discarded on the bed, along with his hat.

'About before-' I began, my back turned to him. Suddenly feeling his hands slide onto my waist, pulling me into him. I gasped, not expecting it. He leaned into my shoulder, lips gracing my neck, all the way up to my ear. The warmth of his breath fanning over my skin, making me boil on the inside. It made it difficult to think.

'I want you darlin', all of ya'.' He whisperes, 'If you'll have me–' pausing to place a gentle kiss between my ear and jaw, '–'M tired off missunderstandin's.'

In a haze, I turn around and lay my hands on his chest, having to crane my neck upward to meet his eyes. I reach one hand to caress his cheek, brushing at his stubble 'So am I.'

He leans into my delicate touch, nuzzling my hand and placing a soft peck on my palm.

One of his hands sinks its fingertips into the flesh at my hip as the other grabs my arm softly, sliding his hand up to my wrist, gently holding it as he places another kiss there, right on my pulse point. His lips linger, feeling my rapid heartbeat. Gently, he experiments. Sucking and pecking the spot.

A deep ache settles in my bones, fortifying with every kiss he places, deepening with every beat of my heart. And for a second, he feels it too. Meeting my eyes with a smirk, he pulls my sleeve up to cover more ground. Immidietly I feel that my clothes are weighing me down, 'Arthur.' I whisper.

'Hmm?' He hums, focused on kissing what skin he has access to.

Clearing my throat, 'Will you–' I breathe, 'Help me unbutton?'

His eyes meet mine again, searching my gaze for certainty. 'I'll spend the rest of my days doin' your biddin' if it makes you happy girl.'

'It would–' I say, and his hands move to my ribcage, pulling me into his frame. His face an inch from mine as his hands snake around my back, making quick work of each button without batting an eye. 'Oh—' I gasp, surprised by his practiced fingers. 'Should I be jealous?' I ask under my breath.

'No ma'am, none could compete with you.' He assures me.

I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, and in the same moment, he finishes with the last button. Stroking his knuckles over the bare skin along my spine, and sighs. Content. As a shuddering breath leaves me.

Arthur wonders for but a second if shes cold again, until he realises.

'You werent cold, were ya'?'

Immedietly getting what hes reffering to, 'In the begginin' I was.' I tell him truthfully, 'Youre wonderfully clueless sometimes, especially for such a experienced man.'

He chuckles, 'You tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered for me?'

'You were rubbin' against me, pullin' me close. How could I not be?'

'I wasnt–' He protests, '–You were on me if anythin'.'

'Oh so youre tellin' me you were all hot 'n bothered then?' I throw his words back at him, smirking happily while doing it.

Arthurs mouth opens and closes, unable to think of a comeback.

'Thats what I thought.'

He scoffs a smile, pushing my blouse off of me, leaving me in my undergarments.

His hands move to my arms, sliding upwards, leaving prickled skin in their abscence. He trails them over my collarbones and neck, his eyes following every inch of movement.

I lay my hands on his hips, holding onto him as my knees grow weeker by the second.

Forming his hands into loose fists, he caresses my cheeks with the backs if his fingers. Gently brushing the knuckles over my cheekbones, pushing strands of hair from my face in the same motion. He flattens his hands and cup my face, big hands draping around the sides of my head. Pulling me closer, he leans into my space. Meeting in the middle, his lips ghost over mine.

My breath hitches when he kisses me softly, his thumbs stroking my temples in soothing motions.

I grab onto his shirt, fisting and lightly pulling on the fabric. Arousal taking the reins completley, making it hard to think. I look at him with hazy eyes, admiration clouding every sense I have. '. . 'S your turn mister.' I breathe.

Smiling, he continues kissing me, 'At your pleasure ma'am.'

With a pleased hum, I trace my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, and Arthur groans in response. The aching pulse in my body stiffens at the sound, becoming more compressed. More focused in my core. Kissing him, I easily unbutton his shirt, making quick work of it, and slide it over his shoulders. Now hooked on his arm folds, it hangs around the small of his back. I sigh happily, what a sight it was.

'You expercied taking men's shirt's off?' He jokes, laughing. Then moves his hands to my waist, clawing softly at my skin.

I slide my arms around his neck, up into his hair. Scrathing his scalp tenderly, 'Well–' I begin, but he bites my lip suddenly, warning me. I yelp, accidently pulling on his hair, and a whine escapes him. My core dripping at the sound as I release a shuddering breath, '. .'M a woman Arthur, I have needs.'

'Yeah?' He questions, 'You needin' right now, woman?' The gruffness in his voice making my fingers curl.

'I am. .' Whining, my kisses turn needy, 'I need you Arthur, always.' I moan.

At that he wraps his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his embrace, his fingers digging into my flesh. He kissed me, hard. Hard like he might just die if let's me go.

'Skirt. . .' mumbling against me, 'Needs to go.' He manages. Without another word, I snake my hands behind my back, untying my skirt a let it fall to the floor. Arthur walks forward, forcing me back until my chins hit the bed and we fall onto it. He puts his weight on me, although supported by his forearms. 'Pants.' He orders, but I was already one step ahead. My hands already moving quickly to undo the buttons on his pants as hes kissing his way down my jaw and neck. Focusing on my sweet spot, hes sucks bruises, turning me into a moaning mess under every breath. Meanwhile, I shove my hand into his boxers. He grunts and shoves his forehead into the crook of my neck as I palm him, overwhelmed by my long lusted for touches. His member was already harder than a rock, and leaking juices. I bring my thump to his tip, stroking his seed in circles. He groans breathely into my neck, his warm breath causing further heat to pool in core. He leans onto one arm, sliding the other along the curves of my body. Cupping my breast through my brasier, 'I want to look at you sweetheart.' He groans and unfolds his arm so that hes above me to meet my eyes, 'Can I look at ya'?' He asks, voice pleading.

I nod, '. . 'Course.'.

Waisting no time, he snakes one hand under my back and lifts me up. I gasp, always surprised by his strength. 'Please, ma'am.' He begs, and I take the hint. My hand leaves his his member and move around my back, undoing the brasier. Throwing it on the floor, he sighs in relief, 'Wanted to see ya' for so long.' He breathes, lowering me back onto the bed and himself onto of me. Immidietly taking one breast into his mouth, and palms the other. Squeezing them, playing with my nipples, using teeth, tounge and fingers. Automatically, my back arches. Pushing my abdomen against his, and accidentally making my mound rub against his crotch. He hums under his breath, his hand leaving my breast and slowly slides down my body, then pulls his mouth off of my breast with a pop. 'Now.' He whispers, kissing his way up to my jaw, then leveling his head with mine, 'Wanna se all of ya'.' his free hand cups my cunt. I gasp from the sudden touch, there's no friction, no movement, yet the aching grows stronger from the warmth of his palm alone. I shut my eyes, trying to come up with an answer. But the presence of him takes up my entire mind, all I can manage is a nod.

Not satisfied, he pushes his palm firmly against my core. 'Look at me girl.' He orders, sliding his middle finger over my slit, undergarments creating a barrier. Making my wetness soak into them, and he chuckles when he feels it. Whimpering, I open my eyes to look at him, and he smirks, 'Good girl.' And plants a kiss on my jaw, 'Use your words this time.' He pecks my lips, then slides his finger over my clit. Lately circling it through the fabric, I swallow hard. Jolts of pleasure surge through my body as something finally gives. 'Want. . . You.' I manage.

'Yeah?' He breathes, and I nod. To which he raises his brows, and pushes two fingers against my core in warning.

Another jolt, '!Mmm, meanin'. . .' Humming a stutter, 'Yes–' I pause, '–Please Arthur. I- I want you.'

'Atta girl.' He praises, then begins trailing kisses down my chest, over my nipple and abdomen, ending at my mound, right above my clit.

My back arches, 'Please. .' I whisper, pleading with him. He pushes back, shakes his already half off shirt completley off, and his pants follow. My eyes go wide at the size of him, hello cowboy.

His hands slide up my thighs, giving reassuring squeezes until he gets ahold of my undergarments. Hooking his fingers under them, he gently slides them off, and the both of us gasp. 'Beautiful.' He murmurs, admiring me. Then bends down, kissing his way up my inner thigh. Winding his arms under my legs and grabbing my waist, then hovers over my cunt, giving me one last look before diving in.

He licks one long stripe up my folds, gathering my wetness on his tongue. Then attaches himself to my clit, generously sucking and circling his tongue around it. I'd been on edge since the night in the tent, hyper sensitive from always wanting him, and finally feeling him on me? It's purely magical, I have to bite my cheek to keep from screaming when he shoves two fingers inside me. Thrusting in and out, curling with every withdrawal. I was already close, 'Arthur, 'm so close.' I moan.

He nods, furthering the movement of his tongue, 'Tell me what ya' needin' girl.' He mumbles against my folds, the vibrations of his voice deepness have me gripping my sheets, clawing it them like a wild animal.

'Need you, need you in me.' I blurt out.

He laughs, 'Im already in you sweetheart.' Causing my back to arch again, oh sweet, sweet vibrations. I throw my head back into the pillow, and his hand slides from my hip to my lower abdomen, 'Be good and lay still now.' Then pushing down with his palm. That combined with his fingers, were– were enough. . .

Blinding pleasure surges through me as I come on his fingers, walls clenching, fluids flowing. I breathe heavily as he laps it up, 'In me Arthur, please.' I whine.

'Youre gonna have to be clearer girl.'

I loose my patience, 'Christ, Arthur! I need you cock in me.'

He smirks, 'Well why didnt you just say so?' His hands push my legs over his shoulders and he climbs on top of me, face to face, he kisses me passionately. Tasting of salt.

His tip graces my entrance, 'You sure, aint you?' He asks, kissing my jaw.

I bury my hand in his hair, 'Mmh, 'm sure.' And with that, pushes inside me. A breathy moan leaves our mouths simultaneously.

'Feelin' just as sweet as you taste sweetheart.' He whispers against my jaw, nuzzling his nose into my cheek and forehead against temple. The pulls out, to the tip, and shoves himself back in. Hard and passionate, he sets perfect pace. Rocking our bodies with every thrust, going deeper than I ever thought to be possible.

'Christ.' I groan, he's hitting that spot inside me with every motion. One hand moves though his back, scratching at it loosely, pulling on hip to get him even deeper. He grunts, in my ear. Might aswell be music, wouldnt be able to tell a difference. He snakes one hand up my torso, grabbing my throat gently and squeezing just enough. Brushing his thumb over my my jugular. Outlaw indeed.

I pull on his hair, to level his face with mine, I wanted his lips, his tongue. 'Kiss me cowboy.' I order, and he follows.

Kissing me deeply, in rhythm with his thrusts, In rhythm with the aching that was finally dulling in my body. Finally, I had I'm. Truly had him. Bliss flows through me as the knot in my stumache tightens, on the verge of my second orgasm. And telling by Arthurs thrusts, he wasn't far away either. In a few more thrusts we both topple over with a breathy moans, Arthur whispering, 'Good girl.' Over and over as his seed was filling me to the brim, seeping out around his member as he collapses on me. My legs falling to the bed. We gather our breaths in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness of the other.

He lays and arm around me, pulling me close as we fall asleep. Both thinking of the other, just not having to imagine what holding the other would feel like anymore.

At some point during the night, Arthur had rolled me off of his arm and snuck out. I was to tired to think much of it, especially since he returned shortly after. By morning I had all but forgotten it, brushing it off as a dream.

As we got dressed and ready the next day, I handed Arthur his hat. He took it, but looked at me, 'Put it on, wanna see you in something of mine.' He says, smiling.

'Gladly.' I chirp, and put it on.

His smile slants, turning into a smirk, 'Now, girl. You know what that means don't you?'

'Why'd you think I was glad to put it on. If not just to tell Micah to shove it.' I chuckle.

'It suits ya' He ruffles my hair with the hat.

We walked out and fetch our horses, the grup giving us mixed looks as the spot us. Arthurs hat declaring to the public of his intentions, that I was his and that we would have a busy night. Sadie smirked knowingly, winking at me. While Sean and Lenny looked happy for us, Micah was the only one who glowered.

'I got a surprise.' He says as he saddles his shire.

'Yeah, whats that?' I tilt my head.

He nods to Sean who runs off, I quirk my eyebrow at Arthur, 'Whats all this?' I ask.

'You'll see, keep your eyes peeled sweetheart.'

Eventually, Sean comes back into view, leading a horse I don't recognize. A beautiful mustang, tan coat, and white forhead. I don't connect the dots at first, 'Sean got a new horse?' I ask, confused.

'Now why would I surprise you with a new horse for Sean?' He asks, chuckling. And the pieces snap into place.

'For me?' I ask, dumbfounded. A million questions circling my head.

'Got her yesterday, had Sean ride and get her earlier this morning. Since I was. . . Occupied.' He smirks.

'That's why you snuck out in the night, then?'

He hums, 'Mhm.'

'Well I'll be. . Arthur Morgan, thank you.' I smile, hugging him. He wraps his arm around me, holding me tightly, afraid I'd otherwise slip away.

'. .'S nothing.' He pecks my cheek, 'Go meet her.'

As we arrived back to camp, we got busy. Late into the night we spent in Arthurs tent, defining the meaning of cowgirl.

The next few hours we rode next to eachother on our way back to camp, flirting and laughing as Saint and I got used to eachother.

[thefanficmonster]

Never Beating the Allegations

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A compilation of Colby and Y/N being far too obvious with their feelings for one another for the entire world to see. Basically, a YouTube documentation spanning several channels that marks the history of this goofy relationship

"It's fucking nighttime already, dude! We're running two hours behind schedule!" Sam complains through a smile, shaking his head at Colby who's trailing behind him with bags full of snacks. "All because someone spent those two hours scouring a store!

They're currently in Canada following the filming of a couple investigations for Hell Week with Kris and Celina. As Sam said, they were supposed to be two hours along the road back home already - a very tiny portion of their roadtrip back, seeing as how they didn't get to buy plane tickets on time. So, they settled for a two day roadtrip and the adventure it would bring on.

Colby, not at all bothered by Sam's accusations, smiles at the camera, "I promised Y/N I'd bring back signature Canadian snacks for her. There is no chance in hell I go home empty-handed. She'd kill me." As if to prove he is serious about his quest, he lifts the two heavy looking bags for the camera to get a better shot of them.

Sam's smile falters, replaced by a highly offended frown, "So you're telling me we're not gonna eat any of those snack on the road?" Colby - folding with laughter, mind you - shakes his head. "Are you fucking ki-...."

* * * * *

"I'm almost done!" Y/N calls out from her spot in front of the mirror where she's been stuck for the past thirty minutes trying to even out her winged liner.

A groan comes from a far distance but is still picked up by her phone microphone and is heard by the audience of Y/N's Instagram live, "You keep saying that!"

Not ten seconds later, the door is thrown open, provoking a laugh from the girl. She lowers her hand and takes her attention away from her reflection to pay her roommate proper acknowledgement. "Give me a second, sheesh! Can't a girl make herself pretty in peace?"

Although he never enters the frame fully, the live chat is already flowing with cheers of Colby's name. Whether it was wishful thinking or an educated guess on their part is a mystery. Regardless, they're entirely correct, their suspicions confirmed when they hear his voice and see his arm come into frame, his hand cupping Y/N's chin to tilt up her face.

"You're always pretty." He says, causing her to roll her eyes. At that, he boops her nose with his pointer finger before withdrawing his arm, "You have five minutes to wrap things up."

Y/N's gaze lingers on him until he's out of sight. She shakes her head and catches the camera's eye in the mirror reflection, "The audacity on that man. Tsk

* * * * *

@_y/n_dragonfly Fuck Valentine's Day @_colbybrock

Needless to say, the comments went wild, running with this post on Y/N's Instagram as unofficial proof of the ship the fandom seems to hold so near and dear to their hearts.

Hope dies last, after all. Maybe one day their ship might set-sail.

* * * * *

"Ok, so, update..." Colby chuckles, looking away from the camera he's currently holding blogging style to make sure he doesn't trip on anything, "We were supposed to go grab food before starting the investigation, but then...." He flips the camera to show the backyard of the abandoned house they'll be exploring tonight, "Y/N found a trampoline in the backyard."

As the camera focuses, both Sam and Y/N come into clear view - the former laughing at the latter who's too busy to care. She's too occupied having the time of her life on this raggedy looking trampoline, reveling in childlike joy as she hops around.

Colby sets the camera on the tripod Sam had left nearby, wanting to capture this wholesome moment, even if it didn't make it into the final cut of the video. Though he doesn't see why it wouldn't.

After adjusting the camera, he turns to find Sam has joined Y/N on the trampoline, far more hesitant than she is, though.

"You guys are ridiculous." He remarks as he approaches them, shaking his head with a bright smile on his face.

Y/N lands on her knees so she can be at least halfway at eye-level with her friend, offering him a beckoning hand, "Come be ridiculous too. Don't be a bore."

Colby scoffs and rolls his eyes. Still, he accepts her hand but instead of using it for support to climb up to join his friends on the trampoline, he tugs on it. Y/N lets out a little yelp as she's enveloped in his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, unwilling to have a rather unpleasant encounter with the ground.

"Colby! Put me down!!" Put her down he most certainly doesn't, instead opting to spin her while securely holding her in his arms, eliciting mock terror-filled screams from her.

Eventually, he does get persuaded into joining her and Sam on the trampoline.

And the whole fiasco eventually makes it into the final cut and onto the internet.

And, inevitably, in edits.

* * * * *

It's an innocent, wholesome TikTok they filmed in the garden of the Conjuring house. Yes, the Conjuring house, no biggie.

Sam is the cameraman who much to his relief didn't even need to orchestrate anything. He just pressed the record button on his phone to capture the tomfoolery going on. The lighting is perfect, provided by the few remaining rays of sunlight before dark befell them. A little lighthearted fun was more than needed before they'd have to go back in the house to chat with spirits for the night.

The video captures Y/N in her natural element - dancing goofily with the pair of headphones they use for the Estes method on her head. The caption under the video reads: 'When the spirits drop a sick beat' and is quite the perfect depiction of the trio's dynamic.

Sam documenting the chaos. Y/N being the chaos. And Colby observing her chaos with heart-eyes from the sidelines.

Although Sam hadn't originally noticed his best friend's awed gaze accidentally captured in the video, the fans most definitely noticed. And, as per usual, they ran with it.

*sigh* These two are never beating the allegations.

@benbarnesprettygurl @jessy-shine @mushycore @richardsamboramylove55 @smuttiest-smuttt @honey-bees-13 @rei-ito

[lunartuness]

Spoilers for Book of Bill

Thoughts on Bill talking about Ford

I was not prepared for canon Billford in the year 2024 and yet here we are.

But seriously, I'm kinda surprised how much Bill actually liked and valued Ford? Obviously it's in a horrible, toxic, never come within the same continent as them kind of way but it's just, I always kind of figured their relationship (while obviously adoring from Ford's end due to Journal 3) was mainly just Bill humoring Ford long enough until he no longer needs him. Like, 'yeah, sure, of course you're special, I definitely believe in you' sort of nonsense.

But in Bill's book it's implied multiple times he had as close to a crush on Ford as he's probably capable of. I mean, the whole 'love cage' section is literally verbatim what he did to Ford (and just wait until they're mentally broken enough to confess their true feelings! Fear and love are basically the same thing!) And in the valentine's section he talks about leaving mice, which again, he did for Ford's birthday, and then when he wasn't happy about that, got him drunk enough to have a good time (implied kinda forcibly? since Ford declined beforehand). Then there's the fact he literally calls Fiddleford a third wheel (also coincidentally after we just learn Fiddleford spent hours on handmade gifts for Ford and forgot to get his wife anything).

And when Ford finally does catch on and things go bad? Bill tries first to talk with Ford through the zombies (to manipulate him, of course, but also Admit it, you'd miss me. I have missed you, and Bill actually smiles.) And then leaves little sticky notes asking nicely to talk. When he finally gets mad enough to escalate, he still does so in a very not-violent-for-Bill-way. Sure, killing Ford wouldn't help him but we know how messed up Bill can get. And yet what does he do? He leaves Ford's body to almost freeze, only to have a warm fire and a love song playing when he wakes up. He causes mild public disturbances and gives him an obnoxious tattoo. When he finally, finally snaps is when we start to see more of the Bill we got in the show when he tortures Ford a bit. But even that is mild?

Like, Bill rearranged a man's face for fun and takes joy in destroying the Nightmare Realm. But after threating Ford he leaves him unharmed. Very mentally scarred, yes, but safe and intact. He even gives him three days to get his life together. And then treats it like a messy breakup when Ford finally breaks free. Hell, it seems like he was more upset about losing Ford than losing the portal.

All this is to say that I think from Bill's point of view he was being genuinely kind to Ford. He gave him gifts, complimented him, and tried to work things out peacefully when Ford started pulling away (again, his very messed up version of peaceful, but the point still stands).

So when they do finally meet again? Bill still offers Ford a spot next to him. Again, I originally thought this was more playing into Ford's ego while taking a cheap shot at him (i.e. you'll fit in great with the freaks!), but by now it's obvious he wants Ford. He's petty and cruel and horribly abusive about it, but in his own twisted way he likes Ford. A lot. Enough to show mercy (or at least not be as violent as he could be) and to try and give him multiple chances to come back, no apology needed!

And the worst part is Bill knows this. Bill's trying to make this relationship work. He feels connected to Ford in a way he quite possibly hasn't felt with anyone else. And he knows its doomed to fail. In his mind he has to destroy everything he touches and everything he cares about. Any other connections he has are either superficial or dead to him (usually literally). This relationship will end the same way, it's just in Bill's nature. To him, that's all his relationships are capable of being.

All this just makes me sad and adds so much depth and I'm obsessed. There's just something about self-destructive and truly cruel characters having moments where they wish they weren't that way. Where they'll come the closest they ever can to apologizing for how they are.

(Also Bill literally wanted Ford to get a tattoo saying 'If lost return to Bill' like we cannot just ignore that oh my god)

[kisses-for-you]

Preference: You're injured

Resident Evil Characters X Fem!Reader

Characters: Leon Kennedy, Luis Serra, Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira & Chris Redfield.

Requested ✅

Leon Kennedy:

Leon glances over at you, his expression tense as he assesses the situation. "Just stay close," he says. "Stick together, and watch each other's backs." He brandishes his knife, ready to fend off the Ganados.

"I don't think we'll be able to kill them all-" You're about to finish your sentence when a Ganado comes up from behind you, to which you have barely any time to react. "Y/N!" Leon calls out. You spin around just in time to see the Ganado lunging at you. Acting quickly, Leon pushes you out of harm's way and swings his knife, severing the Ganado's arm.

"Let's get out of here before more of them show up," you suggest, to which Leon nods and the two of you start to make a break for it.

After narrowly escaping the horde of Ganados, you and Leon find an abandoned building. As both of you catch your breath, you suddenly wince in pain, clutching your arm where a deep gash is bleeding profusely.

Leon notices and rushes to your side. "You're injured," Leon observes, concern evident in his voice as he gently examines your wound. Leon quickly rummages through his pack, pulling out a first aid kit. "Hold still," he instructs. You nod, grimacing against the pain.

His hands work carefully as he cleans and bandages your wound, his touch gentle yet firm. Leon's focused expression softens as he tends to your injury, his touch bringing some form of comfort to you.

"Thanks, Leon," you say, offering him a weak smile as he finishes dressing your wound. He returns the smile, albeit a bit strained. His gaze lingers on you for just a moment longer, making sure you're not injured anywhere else.

As the adrenaline begins to fade away, you feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you. Leon sees this and silently offers you a shoulder to lean on. You gratefully accept, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Leon asks softly, his voice filled with genuine concern as he looks down at you. "Yeah, I think so," you reply.

____________________________

Luis Serra:

Your heart races as you find yourself surrounded by a group of snarling Ganados in the abandoned house. You fumble for your gun but the sheer number overwhelms you. Fear grips you as you realise you probably won't make it out.

But you hear a familiar voice call out, "Y/N!" Luis comes into view and with steady hands, he aims his gun and fires, each shot hitting another Ganado.

You feel relieved but that joy is short-lived because as the last Ganado collapses to the ground, it lunges at you; its claws tear through your flesh. You cry out in pain, feeling hot blood trickle down your leg.

Luis reacts swiftly, putting down the creature with one final shot. He rushes to your side, concern etched on his face as he assesses your injuries. "Cariña, are you alright?" he asks, voice filled with worry.

You nod weakly, trying to stand up. Luis gently supports you, his strong arms steadying you as you struggle to stand. "Easy now," he murmurs, his gaze soft and caring. With his support, you manage to rise to your feet. Luis keeps a close eye on you, his concern evident as he guides you out of the house to a safer spot.

As you both make your way out of the abandoned house, Luis keeps a protective arm around you. The adrenaline begins to fade, and the reality of your injuries sets in. You wince with each step, but Luis supports your weight with his body.

You find a relatively safe spot to rest, away from any potential threats. Luis carefully inspects your wound, his brow furrowing with concern as he assesses the damage. "I'm going to have to patch you up, okay?" he says, his voice firm but gentle. He starts rummaging through his pack, searching for supplies to tend to your injury.

As he begins to dress your wound, his touch is surprisingly gentle, his focus unwavering. Nothing is said between you two, but you don't feel the need to speak - it's a comfortable silence. When he finishes dressing your wound, he meets your gaze with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you," you whisper softly, your voice barely above a breath. Without a word, he pulls you into a tender embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You lean in, closing the gap between you, and press your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

____________________________

Jill Valentine:

Jill instinctively steps forward, hiding your body behind hers. "Stay behind me," Jill whispers, her voice remaining steady despite the current situation.

You have no time to even respond as the B.O.W from earlier - Nemesis - lunges forward, coming right at you both. Without thinking, you push Jill to the side and you both fall to the ground - out of the creature's reach.

Jill quickly rises to her feet, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with her. "We need to find a way out of here," you say, scanning the area for any possible escape routes. Jill nods, her expression determined as she grips her weapon tightly. Together, you make a dash for the nearest alley.

When you can no longer see or hear the B.O.W, you and Jill stop to catch your breath, leaning against the wall of a building that appeared to have been some sort of restaurant before this whole mess.

"Are you alright, darling?" Jill asks, concern etched in her voice as she checks you for any injuries.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you reply, though the close encounter with Nemesis has left you quite shaken.

Jill pulls a slight face, as if not believing your words. She takes a closer look at you and as she looks at your shirt, she realises, "Y/N, you're bleeding."

"I am?" You glance down at your shirt, noticing the stain spreading across the fabric. "That thing must've got me earlier." You shrug, trying to downplay the injury but as the adrenaline fades, the pain worsens.

Jill's expression softens, her concern deepening. "Let me see," she insists, gently lifting the edge of your shirt to look at the wound.

Jill carefully inspects the wound, her brows furrowing in concern. "It's not too deep, but we need to clean and bandage it quickly," she says, her voice firm, leaving no room to argue. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a first aid kit, efficiently cleaning the wound and applying antiseptic before carefully bandaging it up.

Not long after, she's done. "Thanks, Jill," you say softly. She looks down at you, her eyes softening with a small smile. "Of course, darling," she replies.

Gently, she reaches out and cups your cheek, drawing you closer to her. And without another word, you lean in, closing the distance between you, and press your lips against hers in a lingering kiss.

____________________________

Carlos Oliveira:

In your cozy kitchen, Carlos and you are cooking together, getting ready for a fun night. You joke around as you chop some vegetables, but as you laugh at another one of Carlos' stupid jokes, you fail to pay attention to what you're supposed to be cutting.

Looking away from the vegetables for a split second, you manage to accidentally cut your palm with the knife. Pain shoots through you and you wince, dropping the knife with a clatter.

"Fuck!" you exclaim, clutching your hand to your chest as blood begins to seep from the wound. Carlos's laughter dies away instantly, replaced by a look of concern as he rushes to your side. "Hey, are you okay? Let me see."

You wince as he takes your hand in his, examining the cut with furrowed brows. "It's not too bad," he says, his voice gentle yet reassuring. "But we should clean it up so it doesn't get infected."

He gets you some paper towel to try to stop the bleeding and while you try to stem the bleeding, he goes to grab the first aid kit. With his steady hands, he cleans the wound carefully, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Thanks, Carlos," you murmur, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief.

He smiles warmly, his brown eyes softening. "No problem, mi amor. Just be more careful next time, okay?"

____________________________

Chris Redfield:

You and Chris are on holiday in a small cabin in the middle of the woods, a place for you to get away from your busy, demanding life. This was the perfect place as it was quiet and a way for you to just relax.

Next to you, Chris is fast asleep but you find yourself restless and unable to fall asleep. With a sigh, you slip out of bed, deciding to go for a quick walk to clear your head.

After what felt like a couple minutes, you start going back towards the cabin but lost in thought, you fail to notice the tree roots in front of you. With a sudden jolt, you stumble, pain shooting from your ankle and up your leg as you crash to the ground. You struggle to stand as the pain overwhelms you.

You manage to lean against a nearby tree and start thinking about how you're going to get back now. Just as you're about to rise and start limping the rest of the way back, you see what looks like a flashlight in the distance and a familiar voice call out, "Y/N!" It's Chris.

"Here!" you call back.

You hear his pace quicken, coming in your direction. As Chris approaches, concern etched on his face, he looks at you and notices something is wrong. "What are you doing out here so late? Are you hurt?" he asks, crouching down beside you.

You wince, trying to hide the pain in your ankle. "I... I tripped over some roots," you admit sheepishly, trying to brush it off as nothing serious.

Chris's expression softens as he gently examines your ankle. "Let me take a look," he says, his voice calm and reassuring. "It's swollen," he observes, his brows furrowing slightly with concern. "Let me help you back to the cabin and then we can ice that ankle," he offers, gently lifting you up and supporting you as you hobble back. He wraps an arm around you protectively, guiding you every step of the way.

As you reach the cabin, Chris helps you settle onto the couch before disappearing into the kitchen. Moments later, he returns with a bag of ice and a makeshift wrap.

"Here, let's get this on your ankle," Chris says, kneeling beside you and carefully placing the ice pack on the injured area. His touch is gentle yet firm, comforting you despite the pain.

"Thank you, Chris," you say, to which he smiles warmly.

____________________________

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. killing the reader’s rapist

warnings: yandere behavior, subject matter is rape/sexual assault, gore warning in some parts - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

TIFFANY VALENTINE:

Tiffany knows something happened to you. Call it woman's intuition. Maybe just call it true love. Or obsession. Whatever it is she can sense a hole in you. A gaping pit of misery that you try and hide. Try and fight against.

Tiffany tries to help, when you let her. Most of the time you don't. Instead of admitting to being so depressed you can’t move or eat, you'll feign physical illness. You pretend you're crying because some part of your body hurts. Tiffany knows better. Knows it’s something in your soul itself. Aching. 

Tiffany let's it go on for as long as she can stomach it. The relationship was still so new. You'd just moved in together. Just finished pulling your separate lives into one. Picking out the throw pillows, what color to paint the walls. Argued playfully over bedding and mattress firmness. Is it too early to push? 

She watches you at the breakfast table, on the really bad days, eating mechanically, no joy in your movement or behind your eyes. She doesn't want there to be anything between you. Any secrets. Any distance. If you're hurting she wants you to lean on her. To need her as much as she needs you. To know she’ll catch you, no matter what it is she’ll catch you. It’s enough to leave her in tears every time you put on that awful fake smile. 

She wakes one night, blinking into the darkness. For a moment, she's not sure what woke her. Moonlight streams in from the window. The sound of the fan whirring across the room. Her eyes begin to drift shut again when she hears a muffled sob come from the bathroom. Her hand falls to your side of the bed, instinctively. She closes her eyes when she realizes how cold your side has gone. How long ago did you wake up? How quickly did you decide to crawl from bed and hide from her again? Always hiding. 

It's too much, now. You crying alone in the bathroom in the middle of the night is too much. She throws open the door and takes you into her arms, cooing softly, own eyes watering at the way you go limp against her so quickly. Here she'd been trying to give you space and what you needed was her affection, her tenderness, the whole time.

"What's wrong, huh, baby-doll? You gonna tell your Tiffany what's wrong now? Please?" She whispers against your hair, kissing the crown of your head.

You haven't said the words out loud in so long but you're tired of fighting the demons, and the nightmares, and the misery, all on your own. You've held it in so tightly since you met her. As if you'd taint her just by saying the words. But you love her, and you just want to stop hiding.

When you tell her she goes still. For just a second. Her arms tighten around you like a vice. She begins to rock you gently, cooing reassurances in your ear. She tells you to let everything out and you do. Now that you know she’ll still love you. That she’ll still be here for the aftermath. You can’t stop yourself.

By the end you feel exorcized. Alive. Softened and made new by the level of tenderness Tiffany had shown you. She gathers you from the floor of the bathroom, wipes both of your tears away and kisses you gently. She tucks you back into bed and asks only one more question: 

“What was their name again, sugar bear?” You don’t hesitate to tell her. It warms her heart the way you curl into her side without anymore hesitation. The space between you gone now. 

You sleep deeply that night. You wake up to an empty bed and are surprised. Usually, no matter how late you sleep in Tiffany is still wrapped around you. Just as much a night owl as you, early mornings are rare.  

You pass by the laundry room, notice that the washer and dryer are both going. You thought you did all the laundry a few days ago. You peek into the washer and notice how red the water is. Tiffany must have been attacked by the creative spirit, gotten messy using some paint. 

You hope she didn’t use acrylics this time, the stains never come out. 

You walk through the house calling for your girlfriend. No answer. You step out onto the back porch and there she is. Bathed in the early afternoon sun. Your whole body relaxes when you see her in the garden, bent over, planting a whole new row of flowers. She’s absolutely covered in dirt. You smile, feeling happier than you have in ages. You rush out to join her in the sunlight and throw your arms around her. 

“I love you, Tiff.” You cover her face in kisses, ignoring the dirt.

“I love you too, baby-doll. I love you more than anything.” Tiffany kisses you back, sweet and passionate. Playfully, she spins you to lay beneath her and revels in the sound of your carefree, shrill laughter. 

She hopes they can hear you, just barely, through the layers of dirt she buried them in. With their last breath she hopes they hear your laughter and realize they didn’t break you. 

JORDAN LI:

You weren’t answering your phone. Not their calls. Not their texts. It was enough to have them shrugging on their jacket and stomping out of their dorm into the cool night air.

They’d had a bad feeling about letting you go out alone tonight. You always partied together. Usually with Jordan’s friends, who had become yours. Jordan hated the old group you used to run with. Disloyal. Stupid. Selfish. Now she wishes you’d at least taken one of those fake groupies. At least then you wouldn’t be alone. 

She walks through the party, a brick wall, shoving people aside as she calls your name. Anxiety prickles the skin at the back of her neck. She jogs up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She throws open door after door, music from the party too loud to even fucking think. 

Jordan’s angrier by the second, wondering if something happened to you. She hopes you just lost your phone. If someone stole it she’ll break their fucking jaw. 

The last door in the hallway, she sees two bodies on the floor, one moving against the other in the dim light. She rolls her eyes about to slam the door shut and go look for you in the kitchen again. As she goes to close the door she stops dead when she hears a whimper from the floor. The tiniest noise of pain, a drowsy “stop”. The scene looks different now.

She steps into the room, forgetting about you for one second, heart pounding in her ears. Jordan pulls the person on top off by their hair, hard enough to hurt. When she sees it’s Rufus she let’s out a laugh of anger and blasts him across the room with her power. Hard enough that he leaves a dent in the wall. 

Jordan turns to the person on the ground, hoping the short distance between them and Rufus will make his fucking pheromone bullshit wear off. 

“Are you-” Her blood stops. It’s you, on the floor. Your outfit torn and ripped. Tears are running down your cheeks but your eyes still have that drugged shimmer that might as well be that walking roofie’s calling card. 

“Jordan?” You mumble from the floor, dazed and confused. 

Rufus makes a sound from across the room, getting to his feet. Jordan stops breathing as she turns. They make eye contact. Fear in one pair. Anger so strong it’s inhuman, in the other.

Jordan’s across the room in an instant. Her fist breaks his jaw with the first blow. Everything after that is a blur. She comes back to herself when she feels a stabbing pain shoot through her fist and she pulls her hand away with a hiss. Bone fragment cutting into her hand. 

The haze of the rage falls away and Jordan realizes how wet she feels.  She looks down at her clothes. Sees how soaked in blood they are. Then her eyes fall to the mess she’s left on the floor. She almost throws up. Shakes her hands and feels brain matter slide off of them.

She thinks, what the fuck did I just do? What the fuck did I just do? 

“Jordan?” You call from across the room, sounding less drugged. 

She looks over at you and tears burn her eyes. Numb, she climbs off the body and rushes to you, looking you over. The tears fall when she sees the bruises, the small cuts. You must’ve fought him, even through the haze of his powers. You’ve always been a fucking fighter. She should have fucking been here. She doesn’t want to touch you with the blood on her hands but you don’t give her a choice, falling into her arms sobbing. She forces back her own. This is her fault. You’re the only one who deserves to cry. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jordan mumbles, hands shaking as they leave bloody smears across your skin. What else can she say?

NANCY DOWNS:  

Secret keeping doesn’t work with Nancy. No matter how small of a secret, or a lie, she can sniff it out. Furthermore she hates when you lie. About anything. You should always tell each other the truth. You're one soul in two separate bodies, as far as Nancy is concerned. 

Even before she did the spell to bind you to one another permanently. 

Because of the magic she can feel what you’re hiding now. She had a suspicion before. But now she knows. Now she fucking knows. She’s furious, and heartbroken, and she knows. 

You still try and hide it, though. As if you can hide anything from the other half of your fucking soul.  

“Enough, Y/N.” She spits at you one night, when you’re trying so hard not to think about it. Not to feel. 

She doesn’t know why you’re blocking her out. Not letting her feel it with you. Whatever you suffered. Whatever harm that befell you it would be avenged times three if you just let her in.

Nancy’s magic has always been stronger. She was being kind before. Hoping you would come to her on your own. She sees now that you need to be encouraged. She’s still gentle, somehow, as she invades the sanctity of your mind. For one instant your consciousness is her consciousness, and you’re both one being, sharing every thought and feeling. 

She sees it. Feels it. Lives what you lived, in that single moment. She pulls herself out of your mind, eyes hauntingly empty. They meet yours, register you, and fill with tears slowly. You reach out, in sync and Nancy pulls you to her. You can’t tell apart the sounds of your voices as you start to scream and sob. 

You pass out, eventually. Either from exhaustion or a spell Nancy placed on you. You wake in your shared bed to her standing over you, covered in blood. A knife in one hand, something meaty and dripping in the other. When your eyes adjust fully to the moonlight you realize it’s a human heart. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. You're safe now. You’ll always be safe, with me. You understand?” Nancy coos, petting your face with the hand holding the knife. It cuts you. You start to cry and you’re not sure if it’s from relief. 

JENNIFER CHECK:

You come home from the party you attended quietly. You open the door without a sound. Kick off your shoes. Put down your bag. You’ve shut yourself into the bathroom before she can even ask how it went. Immediately, her hackles are up. Irritation and concern. You know she hates being ignored. You never ignore her. You didn’t even say hello. 

Jennifer knocks on the bathroom door, trying to keep her voice playful as she asks what your deal is. You don’t respond. The sound of running water is the only thing she can hear. She pounds on the door, getting nervous. 

Then she picks up the smell of prey. You smell like prey. Dried sweat perfumes your skin, the sweetest smelling kind, that only one emotion causes: primal fear. The faintest whiff of blood and tears.

She breaks down the door. You don’t even notice. Don’t even look away from the mirror. You just go on trying to wipe the blood from your face. Your lip is busted. Hair a tangled mess. Scrapes along your cheek and neck, collarbone. Your clothes are a mess too. Rips and tears in fabric that was pristine a few hours ago.

“Baby?” Jennifer says again, feeling sick. Still nothing. 

She reaches out to touch you, gently. You come alive, jolting away from her with a scream. It’s the type of fear she’s heard a thousand times. Right before she rips out an organ or a throat. 

It’s the breaking of a dam and you fall to the ground, sobbing, still trying to wipe away at your skin. Any bit of skin you can reach. Jennifer tries to wrestle the rag from you. You’re being too rough, you're only human. You’re so breakable. You fight against her, sobs getting louder. 

“Baby stop fighting me!” Jennifer begs, uncharacteristically.  Between your sobs she makes out the words of you needing to clean yourself and her eyes fill with tears. She didn’t know she was capable of tears still.

“Stop.” Jennifer commands, voice going inhuman, harmonic. You go still, entranced by the full force of her power. Jennifer feels the tears falling down her cheeks. Watches your own tears cut bloody, miserable lines down your face. 

She takes the rag and gently wipes at your cuts. She peels away your ruined clothes. Starts the bath and places you inside it. Every time her hold on your mind starts to wane, and that animal fear of harm kicks back in, she speaks to you. She doesn’t let the control slip until your body stops secreting that awful smell of terror. 

“Who did this, baby?” She asks quietly, trying not to focus on the haunted look on your face. 

You don’t answer her. She swallows. 

“That’s okay, baby. I’ve got the scent anyways.” She tucks you into bed, orders you into a dreamless sleep that you couldn’t hope to fight off. 

She doesn’t come back home until the morning. The blood beneath her fingernails makes her itch. The smell of the monster she killed is putrid in her nose. She showers under water so hot it singes even her skin. When she crawls into bed beside you, before she falls asleep, she thinks about how hungry she is. She curls her entire body around yours.

She hadn’t been able to stomach even the thought of eating your fucking rapist. 

CARRIE WHITE:

You’d just moved into this house together. It was a nice enough neighborhood. Cozy. Nothing too big or expensive. The dorms at university had been too loud and hectic for Carrie. For this semester you’d decided you needed to build a life together. 

She’d never been happier than she was while painting the walls with you. Picking out lamps, and blankets, and a shoe rack. She remembers the way she’d used telekinesis to haul the heavy couch inside while the two of you held your hands underneath and pretended to carry it. The elderly neighbors all watching from their porches with dropped jaws. When you took one hand away to wave at them Carrie had to rush you both inside before she actually dropped the couch from laughing. 

You went to class together. Cooked and cleaned side by side. Carrie tailoring clothes for money and you tutoring. It was good. Life was good. After years of suffering, you were her heaven on Earth. 

Carrie came home from grocery shopping, humming quietly to herself. She knew you were home but didn’t call out for you. You’d told her you were tutoring someone this afternoon. Some of the subjects required a lot of focus, especially if you were already struggling with the material. She’d brought extra snacks in case they were hungry. 

She set the groceries down in the kitchen and walked into the living room. She froze in her tracks. You were there, and there was your student, on top of you. You locked eyes with Carrie, over their shoulder. They were holding you down. You’d been gagged to keep you from screaming. So the neighbors wouldn’t hear.

They were assaulting you in your own home. In the home you shared with her. Her vision whited out. 

She came to with your hands gently shaking her awake. She screamed when she saw you. You were covered in blood. In gore, and chunks of flesh. The sight alone brought back such horrible memories she turned over and threw up. You held her hair back, as if the blood on your hands was less awful than vomit. 

She tried to look…. To see what she’d done. But you won’t let her look past you. You’re sobbing and still trying to protect her. Even though she hadn’t protected you. Her whole world. Her angel, that God sent her, and she’d let you be defiled. She’d failed you. 

You fall apart in each other’s arms, trying to ignore the headless body a few feet away.

GINGER FITZGERALD:

You’d thought she’d under-reacted, when you told her. ‘She’s being unusually calm’ was your exact thought. But you were so tired, after years of holding in the dark secret. You were just relieved to have her acceptance, without hesitation, without disgust. 

She asked no questions that could leave you wondering about anything. On whether or not she thinks it’s your fault. If she thinks you should’ve fought back harder. If she thinks you’re weak. Tainted. Dirty. She says all the perfect words, everything you’ve ever needed to hear. She held you close and whispered them, and kissed you the same as always. 

She treats you no differently. You let yourself soften in the reality of a devotion that only Ginger can give. 

But you knew she was under-reacting. 

You walk into your living room a week later and see Ginger sitting on the couch, your rapist beaten within an inch of their life, bound and gagged at her feet. Her face lights up when she sees you. She grins like a wolf, canines sharper than usual. 

She stomps on their head as she skips to greet you, grabbing you by the hips. She ignores your gaping mouth when she kisses your cheek affectionately, “Brought you a little gift, baby.” 

“I almost just killed them, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted-”

“Wanted to what, Ging?” You cut her off, breathless, eyes glued to that hauntingly familiar face.

“Wanted the chance to make them suffer, before they die.” Ginger whispers, staring at you so lovingly you almost start to cry.

You tug her into your arms and laugh wetly when she starts to purr. You can see the way her tail wags beneath her skirt. She’s always so eager to please.

“I don’t know if I can do that, Ginger.” You admit into the skin of her neck. 

“Sure you can.” Ginger coos, taking you by the hands and leading you over to the shivering body on the ground. “I’ll show you how.”

She takes off the gag so you can hear the screams better. 

[babymetaldoll]

The annual BAU Halloween Costume Competition (Spencer Reid x fem!Bau reader)

Summary: Spencer wants to win a costume competition, but wins your heart instead.  Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Other than cursing? extreme fluff.  A/N: Happy Halloreid and Gublerween everyone!! and if you celebrate it, happy Ieroween as well!  Masterlist

No one could ever say Penelope Garcia threw lousy Halloween parties. They were always fun, with the best food and theme. Over the years, she had organized incredible celebrations for the entire BAU family. It was her moment to shine. Decorations were always spot on, the altar was always ready for pictures of long-lost loved ones. There were theme cocktails and food, but by far, the most important event of the night was the Halloween costume competition.

It had started as a joke during their first Halloween celebration, and over the years, it had turned into the main event of the night. Each year, Penelope made sure she had a prize for the winner of first place and a little something for second and third. In fact, she usually got something for everybody who participated in the party, 'cos that's the kind of host Garcia was.

And that year wasn't the exception.

The entire team was excited about the celebration. They needed a moment to relax after the last couple of cases they had had. Well, the entire team except for Spencer Walter Reid. Instead of looking forward to the celebration, he was freaking out trying to find the best costume to finally win the BAU Costume Competition. Why? because he was the only member of the team who had never won first place. Hell! He never even got second or third. He just got a participation price every year. And he hated it.

Halloween was Spencer's favorite holiday. He wasn't really into Christmas, it was too emotional and it reminded him of all the holidays he spent alone with his mother growing up, and how sometimes she wouldn't even remember it was Christmas. New Year wasn't his type of celebration 'cos he wasn't a party guy. He didn't enjoy clubbing and his definition of a fun evening included a bunch of books, herbal tea, and his couch. Not to mention Valentines. That was a miserable holiday for Reid. He never had a date that day, and the only girl he wanted to ask out was - at least according to his own words - way out of his league. So, to sum it up, Spencer's favorite holiday was Halloween and he couldn't even win a work costume competition.

He felt it was personal that year. He had to win. He had to have his moment of joy.

- "See you all guys tonight in my house!"- Garcia was beaming as she stood in front of the team that October 31st during their daily morning meeting.- "Everything is ready! We are going to have so much fun!"

- "We'll be there at seven. Savannah is very excited."- Morgan clapped his hands once and chuckled- "And you can all forget about winning this year's costume contest, 'cos me and my girl are gonna kill it."

- "I don't know, me and Will have a matching costume that could be the best one yet."- JJ smiled confidently at Morgan and Spencer frowned.

- "Do couples' costumes get more points?"- the young doctor asked, confused.

- "No, but they are fun!"- Garcia explained with a huge grin. - "Do you have your costume ready, boy wonder?"

- "Yes, and I don't mean to get cocky, but I'm sure this year you are all going to be amazed."- Reid answered with a smirk on his face.

- "No more Doctor Who then?"- Emily teased, chuckling- "You didn't knit any scarf this year."

- "My knitting skills are saved for Whovian's conventions only."- Spencer replied, making Em laugh. - "And I won't say a thing about my costume, it will be a surprise."

- "Hey, Spencer."- Garcia whispered and grabbed his sleeve as they all walked out of the briefing room, forcing him to stay behind with her.- "I was wondering if you are planning to ask (Y/N) out, or if you are going together to the party."

And Spencer's heart stopped. He opened his eyes and stared at his friend in disbelief. Not that he thought no one knew about his crush on his teammate. He just wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

- "Ok, breathe, Reid!"- Garcia shook his arm as he nearly panicked in silence, standing in front of her. - "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, but it's getting painful to watch. She likes you too!"

- "I don't... I don't feel."- Spencer tried to rearrange the words in his head, but failed. Instead, all he managed to do was frown and sigh.

- "Wow, an IQ of 187 slashed to nothing just like that. It's amazing. You hear the legends about it, but when you see it happen, it's disturbing."- Penelope did her best not to laugh at Spencer's humiliated face. His cheeks were burning as he kept trying to explain what was happening inside his brilliant brain.

- "You don't get it, I can't ask (Y/N) out! We work together! We are on the same FBI team! What if it doesn't work? What if I lose my friend all because I thought I had a shot with her? or worse! What if she doesn't like me that way, and she laughs in my face? How do I work with her after that?"

- "But how do you live with yourself now?"- Garcia whispered after Spencer's speech.- "You are alone, loving a girl in silence. That's even worse than failing. That's just being miserable."

Spencer didn't reply. He stared at Garcia in silence as she cut him a short smile and gave him a small hug.

- "I know you love Halloween, maybe tonight could be your night."

That poor man just wanted to win a simple Halloween costume contest, and now he wasn't sure he actually wanted to go to that celebration.

Spencer took his time getting ready for the party. He had picked a Beetlejuice costume that went with his crazy natural hair. He did his makeup, put on the stripped suit, combed his crazy hair, and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

- "You might not get the girl tonight, but you are getting your first prize in that costume competition."- he assured himself in the mirror before leaving his bathroom, ready to go to Garcia's.

- "Reid! Wait for me!"- (Y/N) shouted as she ran to cross the street, holding her bag and wig in place. Spencer turned and stared at her, feeling the wind was knocked out of his lungs. She looked hot. Not good. Hot. Smoking hot. So hot he couldn't help but scan her outfit up and down before he even tried to speak. She was dressed as Lydia Deetz, wearing a red dress that hugged her body in all the right places.

- "Wh... wh... w... wow."- that was all he could say when she smiled at him staring at his costume.

- "I know, right?! I can't believe we are matching!! I had no idea you were coming as Beetlejuice!"

- "I... when I... I really... wow."- Spencer was glad no one could see him making a fool out of himself. Well. no one but the co-worker he loved. Yet, he knew if Morgan or Rossi saw him, it would be worse.

- "You look amazing, Spencer!"- (Y/N) smiled and rubbed his arm as he just stared at her, trying to form an intelligent sentence.

- "Thank you, so do you."- that was all he managed to say. (Y/N) continued smiling as she walked inside the building and into the elevator. Spencer just followed her in silence, trying to make his brain function again.

- "Oh my god!! You look amazing (Y/N)!"- Garcia nearly yelled as she opened the door and found her teammates in the hall. - "And! Oh, Jesus!! You are matching costumes too! This is amazing!"- Spencer smiled, awkwardly, thinking his friend was already one or two cocktails in, which meant that in about half an hour she was potentially going to start embarrassing him in front of (Y/N).

- "So you really wanted the extra point for matching costumes?"- JJ teased Spencer as he and (Y/N) walked into the apartment.

- "You said there were no extra points!"- he replied immediately, hoping no one would start teasing him right away. Because, obviously they would.

- "There are no extra points, but there is extra fun when you get back home."- Morgan teased him, holding Savannah's waist as she stood next to him.- "Is that your plan too, kids?"

- "You guys look amazing!"- (Y/N) ignored Derek's comment and smiled at them. They were dressed as Aladdin and Princess Jazmine.

- "Not really creepy, though."- Spencer added.- "And Halloween is the night to be creepy."

- "You are creepy all year long."- Morgan's snarky comment was ignored when Garcia walked over with drinks for everybody. JJ and Will were dressed as Harley Quinn and The Joker, Rossi was dressed as Dracula, Hotch was Neo, from Matrix, Emily was Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction, and Garcia was Tiffany, Chucky's girlfriend. Sergio, her cat, was walking around the apartment in a tiny Chucky costume.

If you asked Spencer, he was sure he had a chance to win the competition that year. If only he could focus on it. But with (Y/N) dressed as his character's bride, dancing with Em and JJ, he had trouble thinking clearly.

- "Ok, loverboy. How did you manage to keep it in the dark about this?"- Derek asked Spencer after an hour or so into the celebration. Reid was standing next to a table, holding a drink and staring at (Y/N) dancing, not even being subtle.

- "About what?"

- "You two are clearly together. When did that happen?"

- "What? No... we... I am... she doesn't. We aren't.... no!"- he tried to explain and failed in the process. Derek raised an eyebrow staring at him, and Reid made his best effort to explain his mind. - "We didn't plan this, it just happened. I had no idea she was gonna show up dressed as Lydia."

- "Kid, you don't have to lie anymore. I'm glad things worked your way."

- "We are not together. She doesn't... we haven't. It.. it's not gonna happen, Ever!"- Spencer wanted to storm out, but he stayed still. Instead of leaving, he turned around and looked at the table, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room. Morgan walked a step closer and stood next to his friend.

- "You didn't plan this? You are not dating?"- and Reid just shook his head,- "And what are you waiting for?"

- "It's not gonna work."

- "Of course it won't. Not if you have a lousy attitude. She loves you, stop being a coward and kiss her."

- "Easy for you to say, no girl has ever rejected you."

- "Come on, kid. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. As far as I know, she likes you too. Now go there and ask her to dance."- before Spencer could argue, Morgan walked away. And the young doctor stood there, staring at the guacamole bowl, not able to move.

- "What caught your eyes?"- (Y/N)'s voice nearly gave him a heart attack. She just stood next to him with a big smile and stared at the food on the table.- "Hungry?"

- "I'm... I'm... the cheese board looks great."- he mumbled and mentally facepalmed himself for making such a stupid comment.

- "It does! Garcia has really outdone herself this year. And last year was already pretty awesome."- Spencer didn't reply, he just stared at the food, avoiding eye contact, in a desperate attempt to keep his brain working. But (Y/N) just sighed, and after a few seconds of silence, she just walked away. Reid closed his eyes and bit his lips.

- "Well done, asshole. You really know how to look like a jerk."- he argued with himself.

- "Everybody! Get together! we are gonna vote for this year's best costume!"- Penelope clapped a few times and stood in front of the group, next to the altar with pictures of their loved ones.

- "As every year, we'll choose the winner with our clap-o-meter"- which they didn't really have, but the costume with the louder reaction from the team was the winner.

- "First we have the Joker and Harley Quinn."- JJ and Will walked to the front and the entire room started clapping.

- "Then we have Aladdin and Jasmine."- Morgan held Savannah's hand and walked in front of their friends. Everybody clapped as Savannah did a little dance and Morgan rubbed a golden lamp. Spencer looked at (Y/N), she was clapping and smiling, looking as happy as ever.

- "Next one, Beetlejuice and Ly..."

- "No!"- Spencer interrupted Garcia, raising his arm.- "We didn't come together as a couple."- and as soon as he delivered those words, Spencer turned and looked at (Y/N). Her smile was long gone from her face. Instead, she stared at him in shock. She was hurt, she was embarrassed. And most of all, she was storming out of the apartment.

- "Shit!"- Spencer whispered as she quickly followed her, as all their friends stared at them in silence. They were all thinking pretty much the same: he had fucked it up and he better fixed it.

- "(Y/N) wait!"- Spencer ran after her and held her arm before she reached the stairs.-

- "No, Spencer! I'm done! I know you hate me, but you don't have to be so mean! I thought we could work together and be civil, but clearly, you don't stand me! So, please! let me go home so you can enjoy your evening at peace."

Spencer stared at her in shock. That's what he had accomplished. That she thought he hated her. And all because he didn't know how to act around her anymore.

- "(Y/N), no. I don't hate you."

- "Don't lie! You are just gonna make it worse. I know you hate me, you never talk to me, you walk away whenever I show up, and clearly, you don't wanna participate in a silly costume competition with me!"- (Y/N) pulled her arm from Spencer's hand and started walking down the stairs. But before she could go too far, Spencer held her hand and stopped her.

- "I don't hate you, I fucking love you! I have no idea how to act when you are around! I can't even speak when you are looking at me!"- he blurted out, not even thinking. (Y/N) stared at him, frowning. None of them said a word for a few seconds until she managed to whisper.

- "What?"

- "I... love... I love you."- Spencer repeated, in a softer voice. (Y/N) took a step closer and tried to read his face, looking for any sign of deceit. But there wasn't. Instead, he stared at her in adoration, waiting to see if his words had had any kind of effect on her.

- "You do?"- she asked, and Spencer blinked, nodding- "'Cos I love you too. So much."- she whispered, blushing.

- "You... do?"- Spencer nearly choked with the words. (Y/N) nodded and smiled, as the two of them fell silent one more time

- "Now kiss the girl, damn it!!"- Rossi yelled from inside the apartment, making them giggle. Spencer held (Y/N)'s hand and moved closer to her, staring right at her lips. She smiled in anticipation and nearly had a heart attack when she felt Spencer's lips on hers, kissing her so slowly, carefully, and sweetly, like she was made of crystal.

After a few seconds, they moved apart from each other and simply smiled, still in disbelief.

- "Do you... wanna go back inside?"- (Y/N) whispered, and pointed to Garcia's apartment.

- "Or... would you like to go out on a date?"- Spencer suggested, and her eyes shone in excitement.

- "A date on Halloween sounds like the best plan ever. But I thought this year you wanted to win the costume contest."

- "A date with you is the best prize ever."- Spencer replied and held her hand, leading the way downstairs. 

[lucid-loves]

Sweet Tooth ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley One-Shot

As requested by @hellhavevibes ! Thank you so much for the fun request and for being patient while I write it. Happy Valentine's~

Sweet Tooth (One-Shot)

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, soft!reader, callsign “Glacé”)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, angst, violence, scars, blood, wounds, killing, fluff, attraction, one-shot, reader POV and Ghost POV, minors DNI, EXPLICIT SMUT, P in V, passionate kisses, fingering, hickeys, couch sex, passionate sex, gentleness, compliments, praise, raw sex, unprotected sex (seriously though people, use birth control!)

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: You are the newest member of the 141 under the name “Glacé” which the team is skeptical about. While your file says that you are a fantastic marksman and deadly interrogator, they find it hard to believe with how absolutely sweet you are. Ghost especially finds you sweet enough to eat right up but is unsure of how you may perform out in the field. That is until you demonstrate that you are truly a force to be reckoned with during a mission. When that happens, Ghost can’t help but cave into his craving for you.

The men looked at you, confused expressions on their face as they looked at your smile that radiated nothing but pure joy. They looked at Kate who stood beside you like it was a joke. Normally, they wouldn’t judge a book by its cover. However, you were the furthest thing they imagined when Kate said that their new member was incredibly skilled, a deadly addition to the team. On the outside, you seemed like the sweetest thing to ever walk the earth. Feminine, optimistic, cute. 

You noticed the odd looks that they gave you, yet you still persisted with your grin. When you spoke, your voice came out light like a songbird. “I look forward to working with you gentlemen! I hope that we become great teammates~!

“Kate, could me and Ghost speak to you for a moment.” Price spoke up with a strained smile. Laswell gave a nod and ushered for them to step outside the meeting room for a moment to speak in private. You were left with Gaz and Soap who just awkwardly tried to make small talk with you. 

You weren’t surprised by this turn of events. This was actually expected. You weren’t ignorant about how you appeared to everyone else. It took a long time to prove that you were more than a cute face when you first joined the military. Even longer when you began to climb the ladder to be an exceptional soldier outside of deskwork. You had more than your fair share of discrimination and being underestimated. Now that you were a member of the 141 task force, you were even more determined to prove that you could hold your own.

That didn’t mean that you had to sacrifice your personality though! 

As Ghost and Price talked to Laswell about you, you began to socialize with Gaz and Soap. It began awkwardly with them asking basic things. Where you were from, why you joined the military, all that jazz. However, the longer they talked to you, the more comfortable they got. There was still some doubt about you being cut out for this kind of work, but at least you were very nice. Eventually, you surprised them with a question. “You guys wanna hear some jokes? I got quite a few great ones if I do say so myself!”

Meanwhile, Ghost and Price expressed their concerns, Price being the most vocal about this while Ghost was his right-hand man. “Are you sure about this, Kate? I mean, she doesn’t exactly look like a killer.”

“Glacé has an impressive file that proves that she should be part of a capable team. I know she doesn’t look it, but give her a chance. If she really can’t take the heat, we can reassign her. However, she’s been working really hard to be an important asset. I doubt that she will fail based on her track record. See for yourself.” Kate vouched, handing the captain a manilla folder filled with all of your personal information. 

As Price scanned through it, Ghost looked over his shoulder. His brow rose under his skull mask, almost disbelieving what he read. An impressively high accuracy score in firearms, high test scores in academics, letters of recommendations from many notable soldiers, and a special report on your interrogation capabilities. All of this was in your file along with a picture of you, bright, beaming, and brimming with happiness. 

“You sure you didn’t get a file mixed up with the picture?” Ghost half-joked, holding the picture of you closer to his eyes to examine. You had the warmest gaze he’s ever seen from the photo alone. 

Kate rolled her eyes and faked a laugh as she took back the file. “Very funny. Just get to know her first, okay?” 

Just like that, you were a part of their team. Price and Ghost returned to the meeting room after Kate left, surprised to see Gaz and Soap wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. You just told them a joke that they really weren’t expecting. Price and Ghost cocked a brow, looking between you who giggled along with them, and the two grown men who took to you like a new candy. 

“Oh! You got to hear this one, Lt. You will absolutely love this. Go ahead, Glacé! Tell ‘em!” Soap encouraged, still trying to get his laughter under control. Gaz took a tissue from the box in the middle of the meeting table, wiping his tears through fits of giggles.

With optimism, you turned and looked up at your new captain and lieutenant. “Did you know that protons have mass?”

Price thought about it for a moment before answering. This didn’t really seem like a good setup to a joke. “Yes, I did.”

“That’s a pretty basic fact.” Ghost pointed out, wondering where you were going with this. He didn’t think much of the setup either.

You tilted your head and shrugged, trying to prevent a grin from spreading across your face. It didn’t work as you revealed the punchline. “Oh! I didn’t even know they were Catholic!” 

Price cracked a smile before caving, chuckles erupting from him slowly. It was hard to keep his cool with how silly your joke was and with how his sergeants were cracking up once again. Even Ghost was smirking under that intimidating mask of his, a deep chuckle escaping from him. It was a corny, stupid joke. Yet, it was clever. Dorky. Cute.

This was unexpected of you. Ghost realized that he couldn’t wait for what else you had in store.

~

You spent a lot of time with the boys learning about their personalities and abilities. Soap could be a bit of a goofball, but seriously loyal. Gaz was their youngest member besides you. Though, he wasn’t immature. He was optimistic like you, yet he was able to keep cooler to come off as a capable soldier. Price was hardworking and considerate, always checking in on how well you were adjusting to the team. He genuinely tried to get to know you like you were more than just a sergeant he could order around. He wanted to know you as a potential friend.

Ghost was the toughest nut to crack, but eventually, he seemed to take to you too at the present moment. He just couldn’t resist how sweet you were, always asking if he needed help, always bringing refreshments to the team during deskwork days, always walking around like the world was your oyster. The other men in the 141 saw you as their softest, sweetest teammate as well. Before he knew it, he was always watching you whenever you were in the room or even across base. 

You were talking to some of the new recruits on base who had questions about your progress. While you gave them some advice on how to outlast the worst of being a newbie, you spotted Ghost from a distance. With no shyness, you raised your hand up high and waved. “Hi, Ghost!”

Saying a goodbye to the newbies, you sprinted over to where he was, finding yourself to be quite attracted to him naturally. You were curious about him. The mask made him mysterious, his uniform made him intimidating. Yet, he shared some of his own jokes with you, revealed his favorite drink, and helped you around base with things you were a little too short or small for. Ghost had rough edges, but you somehow knew that he was secretly a big softie.

Besides that, opposites did seem to attract. Standing next to him, you looked like the sweetest thing alive while he seemed like the deadliest thing alive. It was an odd pairing from the outside. You paid it no mind, though. All you cared about was earning his approval.

“How are you doing, Glacé? Making new friends?” He inquired as you got closer, looking at the group that you were just talking to from afar. There were a couple of guys in the group whose eyes still lingered on you despite walking away. It stirred something in him, yet he didn’t know what.

“I think so? I mean, they just kinda came up to me and asked about my accomplishments and advice. I guess they saw a few records around base with my name. I like talking to new people though, so I didn’t mind! It made me feel a bit like a celebrity which is fun!” You chipperly answered, your expression bright like the sun. 

Ghost looked down at you, his heart not being able to soften up at your softness. “Well, I’m glad you’re having fun. I was on my way to the mess hall for some tea.”

“Can I come with? I’ve been craving a mug of hot cocoa lately. Something sweet, you know?” You asked with a grin that he couldn’t possibly say no to. 

“Fine, I wouldn’t mind the company.”

You walked by Ghost’s side to the mess hall, the space relatively clear since it was later in the afternoon. Like an energetic shooting star, you rushed to the open kitchenette where soldiers could help themselves to making coffee, tea, and other simple drinks. Opening the cabinet, you spotted your favorite mug on the top shelf. A pink one with cute little strawberries on it. Someone had moved it to the top shelf to make room for other mugs on the lower shelf. 

Just as you were about to jump up and get it, you felt Ghost start to press into you from behind. His firm, broad torso radiated heat against you, causing you to form a wicked blush. Carefully, he brought your mug down and held it in front of you to take. 

Looking down at your blushing cheeks, he realized what he had done to you. For the first time, you seemed bashful and his heart melted. Yours did too from the gesture, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes met his blue ones. Nonetheless, you stayed openly polite. “Thank you! It isn’t easy being shorter than most around here. When I put it away, I’ll make sure to put it on the bottom shelf so I can reach it next time. I’ll make your tea for you as a token of my gratitude~”

“You don’t have to do that, Glacé. It was nothing really.” He brushed off, feeling just a tad bit shy himself as his heart quickened for you.

You waved him off. “Nonsense! Here, I’ll make your tea exactly how you like it! Which one is your mug?”

Ghost moved to open the small cabinet that was over the fridge, taking out a simple, black mug with a skull on it. Of course. What else did you expect? 

Taking his mug with a little laugh at your internal thoughts, you began to fix him his tea, his eyes watching you work. You filled an electric kettle with water and set it to boil before going to the pantry to get tea and cocoa. From the bottom cupboard, you took out a small pot followed by taking out some milk from the fridge. The kitchenette had a small hotplate to which you used to start heating up your milk. 

Ghost raised a brow at the amount of effort you were putting in. Most people sucked it up and used hot water for their instant hot chocolate. 

When the kettle boiled until the button clicked, signaling that it was done, you prepared the mugs. Using Ghost’s favorite black tea, you poured the water into his mug, the color quickly turning into a dark brown. When the milk came to a simmer, you cut the heat and poured it into your own mug, the color turning into a much softer shade of brown. With the leftover milk, you lightened Ghost’s tea to the perfect shade that he liked. A small pinch of sugar later and his tea was made to perfection. 

You handed him the mug, the liquid still swirling in a whirlpool from you recently stirring it. He couldn’t deny it, the look of it was exactly how he liked it. Lifting his mask halfway up his face to drink, it tasted like it too. How did you know he liked his tea like this?

He stood for a moment, watching you put the finishing touches on the drink. You pulled some whipped cream from the fridge, topping your cocoa with a beautiful, white swirl of sweetness. While you put the box of tea and cocoa back into the cupboard, you got yourself a jumbo marshmallow and gingerly set it on top of the cream. 

With an excited little giggle, you turned around and headed to a small table to rest, Ghost following right behind you. As soon as you sat down, sitting across from each other, Ghost had to pull his mask back down to hide his smile. Looking at your pink strawberry mug, the marshmallow and whipped cream topping your cocoa, and you right behind it with a satisfied expression made you look absolutely adorable. How could such a sweet thing like you be a killer?

You took a sip of your hot chocolate, whipped cream getting on your cute nose and the corners of your small mouth. Without thinking, Ghost took his thumb and gently wiped your face, getting the whipped cream off for you. You blinked at him in surprise as he licked it off his thumb, the light sweetness melting on his taste buds. 

Now, your cheeks were turning bright red like the painted strawberries on your mug, stomach filling with millions of butterflies that danced to the beat of your rapid heart. Did Ghost really just do that? Were you hallucinating? No, he definitely just did that. The scene kept replaying over and over in your head. He one hundred percent just did that. 

Frozen in your blush, Ghost looked at you, blinking himself as he processed what he just did so naturally. Behind the mask, his own face felt warm. He cleared his throat, lifted his mask to reveal his mouth, and hid it behind his mug of tea. “You had a little something on your face.”

“Ah, aha. . . I see. Thanks.” You awkwardly laughed, your heart still going a million miles per hour. Lifting your mug to your own lips, you looked at Ghost just above the mountain of sugar. For a moment, you wished that he kissed the cream directly off your face.

His military beige shirt clung tightly to his muscles, revealing years of training to be strong. Battle scars ran along his arms, some camouflage by his black and white forearm tattoo sleeve. He was built strong, tall, powerful. Delicious in his own way. You couldn’t help but stare at such a handsome, capable man. Even with the skull balaclava. 

When his eyes met yours again, you averted your gaze, thoughts running rampant. Oh boy, you think you were starting to fall for your lieutenant. 

Silently, you enjoyed your drinks, stealing glances at each other every now and then. When your mug was completely empty, you motioned to go clean it up. However, Ghost put his hand on top of the brim, making it stay on the table. “It’s okay. I will clean it up. Least I can do for making our drinks.”

A warm smile graced your features. “Thanks, Ghost. I appreciate it.”

Taking a glance at your watch, you gasped. “Ah, I’m late to my workout! I gotta get going before I lose my reserved room! I’ll see you later! Thanks for cleaning up!”

He waved as you hurried out of the hall to head to your workout. A soldier needed to stay in tip-top shape at all times, so he wasn’t particularly sour at your departure. Though, your sudden absence did make him feel a bit lonely. 

However, that feeling quickly disappeared when his eyes wandered around the mess only to see his teammates across the room. They were in the middle of playing cards with their own drinks, their attention completely on everything that went down between the two of you. Even the part where he ate the leftover whipped cream from your face. Their expressions were mixed between shock and amusement. 

Ghost shook his head, a signal for them to not say a fucking word about it to him or you. Downing the last of his tea, he grabbed the mugs to wash. After washing them, he paused for a moment, looking at your cute cup. Then, he put it back on the top shelf of the cupboard before closing the doors. 

~

For the first time, the 141 was assigned their first mission that included you. During the briefing, you listened carefully, taking in every single detail like it was life or death. The men listened carefully as well, yet their minds did wander towards how you would perform in the field. They’ve never seen anything but pure sweetness from you. Price had deep conversations with you like you were a close friend. Soap finally had someone that would participate in car karaoke with all his favorite songs with him. Gaz enjoyed watching shows with you that no one else seemed interested in. 

It was Ghost that was having the toughest time compared to everyone else concerning you. You two had been sharing drinks in the mess hall a few times a week to spend time together. Talking, playing cards, even just reading. You always had your hot cocoa, he always had his tea. You always used your pink strawberry mug, he always used his black skull mug. You always had your mug on the top shelf, he always got it for you while pretending that he had no idea who kept moving your mug back up there. 

Could you really take a life?

The answer was yes, you could. And you planned to when you were given your target, a dangerous terrorist that had plans to attack a small city in South America with the intent to take over. A man that was desperate to be a dictator to the point where he was killing innocent people. A man that wouldn’t stop at just taking over his city. Until he took over the whole country and more, he would never stop. 

Someone like that had to be taken down. You were happy to be part of the team to do it.

Just before you board the plane to take the team to their destination, Ghost pulled you to the side for a moment for a pep-talk. “Glacé, this is your first mission with us. Are you nervous at all?”

You shook your head, standing at full attention. “Not at all, lieutenant! This is what I trained for. You can count on me to do what needs to be done.”

He stared at you skeptically, worry still invading him through knots in his stomach. “If anything happens, let us know immediately. We’ll help you out as much as we can. We’ll protect you.”

“I appreciate it, Ghost. I’ll protect all of you as well.” You promised before you finally got on the plane. Following close behind you, Ghost boarded as well. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared for you. He considered you a close friend at this point. Maybe even more. You were just so soft, so sweet that he couldn’t imagine you being anything other than a beautiful soul that he had to protect. He didn’t want to lose you. Not so soon.

Little did he know that you were more than ready for this. Excited even! This was your chance to really prove yourself. To show everyone in your team that you could step up to the plate. You loved spending time with everyone, especially with Ghost as your feelings for him grew. However, they all still looked at you like you were just a sweet girl. You needed them to start looking at you like a capable member of their team. Like a deadly weapon when it came down to it. 

~

You were dropped down into a jungle, the weather hot, sticky, and humid. Sweat was already clinging to your skins, the cover of your armor not helping beat the heat. Quietly, the team traversed the jungle, trying to find the compound belonging to the terrorist organization. They weren’t given pictures or precise coordinates, just general coordinates since the compound was well hidden among the jungle. 

In the cover of night, the 141 crept along, guns ready to be fired at any threat. You carried your own weight well, being able to handle your armor and gear easily on your body, despite how you look without it. It didn’t slow you down one bit. In fact, you felt light as a feather with confidence. 

From a distance, you noticed a light. A dim one, but a consistent one. Unmoving. You spoke into your headset. “Light ahead at our ten o’clock. Could that be the compound?”

“Could be. Nice catch, Glacé. Approach carefully.” Price praised, leading the way to the light. 

Brushing past massive leaves as well as weaving through giant trees, the light revealed a collection of more lights, all coming from abandoned village buildings that were now a terrorist compound. The team crouched down into the lush jungle foliage, watching men move about the compound with guns in their hands. Crates of dangerous items were being moved across the clearing, something that would have to be confiscated as part of the mission. 

Overall, the compound was huge. Much bigger than expected. There were enough buildings to host many terrorists, weapons, food, and even prisoners. Satellite photos were none the wiser as most of it was under thick canopy or painted green to match the jungle green.

Most importantly, the 141 was trying to spot the main target, the leader of this whole operation. When the man was spotted moving from one building to the other. Instantly, Price formed a plan in his head. “Gaz, Soap, head west to take out some men. If things go south, we want to make sure we won’t have to fight our way out of too many enemies. Ghost, Glacé, head east and do the same. See about finding their bombs too. The ones that they planned to use on the city. I’m going to find their prison, help out anyone that may be held captive. Securing all those things before going after the leader is essential.”

“Yes, Captain.” Everyone agreed, splitting up into their respective directions. Sticking to the foliage, you and Ghost slithered around the east of the compound. Watching the guards to observe their moves, you both began to infiltrate further into enemy territory without being spotted. Up ahead, a guard stood with his back turned. You swapped your gun for a knife, the silent weapon being the best bet in a situation like this. 

Before Ghost could do or say anything, you silently stalked the man until he was close enough to grab. Bringing him down and slapping your hand over his mouth to stifle any sound, you quickly swiped your knife across his neck. The sound of gurgled struggle lasted for only a second. Once he was limp, you dragged him back to hide the body in the shadows.

The whole ordeal didn’t last more than a minute. It happened so fast that Ghost thought it didn’t even happen at all for a moment. You didn’t give it a second thought as you clung to the wall of a small building, eyeing a small open window that you could hop through. 

Peeking up, you spotted three men with rifles who were checking an assortment of more guns on the table. Hand signals from you silently gestured to Ghost that there were three enemies inside. Using more hand signals, it was agreed that he would take the two on the left and you would take the one on the right. With a nod, you jumped through the window and rushed your enemy, the knife slicing into his neck like butter.

Ghost shot the first target with a pistol with a silencer attachment followed by running his own knife through the other man’s jugular. All before they could even comprehend what was happening. 

Your ears picked up a subtle sound of footsteps against dirt just outside. Right behind Ghost. In a quick draw, you raised your pistol towards the door and shot an enemy as soon as he opened the door. Ghost caught the body, carefully laying him on the floor to avoid sounds that would give you away. 

As you began to search the place for any important information, Ghost looked at you almost incredulously. You worked like a well-oiled killing machine. Precise, silent, swift. Your sharp ears saved him. Your file wasn’t lying. You were clearly made for this line of work.

That fascinated him in an attractive way. It lit a fire in him. He couldn’t wait to see more. 

With a profound courage from pride to work by your side, Ghost began to search the place with you. Ultimately, you found nothing. That meant that it was time to move on to the next building. 

You felt good showing off, taking out one enemy after the other with minimal sound. Ghost had more confidence in giving you instructions, ordering you to take down more enemies while he handled his own. When you came across a building with a ladder, a guard standing on top of the building, you took it upon yourself to take care of it. From a mini-alley made by two houses, Ghost snuck forward to take down two guards. Just as he killed one of them off, you jumped down from the rooftop only to land on his second enemy and plunge your knife into him. 

Your kill count was becoming higher than his. However, he didn’t mind whatsoever. Every now and then, you looked back at him with the sweetest smile that hoped for a little praise. Without fail each time, he gave it to you. It was a treat watching you light up when he did, only to take his praise as motivation to keep taking out enemies. 

In a strange way, he was having fun. You were too. There was nothing like ridding the world from evil with the men you trusted.

The only problem was that each building was bare of what you were looking for. None of the buildings you cleared had the explosives you needed. Not even the larger buildings. When you had practically cleaned up the whole east side of the compound without finding them, Ghost radioed the captain. “East side cleared. No sight of explosives. Waiting for further instructions.”

“Copy. Gaz, Soap, any sight of the bombs?” Price responded.

“Negative, Captain. Only more terrorists.” Gaz responded promptly.

“Keep searching. We have to secure them. I’m exiting the prison now to help the search.” Price ordered, his tone frustrated from the lack of progress on that front. 

While everyone said their “Copy that,” you began to think. At this point, you should have come across something. If Gaz and Soap had swept through their side already, the explosives should have been found. There was no way any of you could miss those bombs. There was supposed to be enough to cause a huge part of the city to crumble. 

That meant that there were only two options of where the explosives were. They were either in the leader’s building, or worse, they were already planted.

Fearing the worst, you spoke through your radio. “Captain, I may know where the explosives are. They are either hiding in the building where the terrorist leader is or they are already planted in the town, waiting to be detonated.”

Ghost looked at you wide-eyed, admiring your deduction skills, yet also fearing your words. If the latter was true, then they were running out of time.”

“New plan. Everyone head to the leader’s building. Find the explosives. If they aren’t there, then we have no choice but to take that terrorist back for interrogation.” Price decided, trusting your intuition. 

As fast and quietly as you could, you ran through the compound, taking out any enemies that stood in your way like it was nothing. At this point, you didn’t even bother sneaking around. Instead, you were moving so quick and light that you were rushing guards before they could draw their weapons. You were ruthless in getting to your objective. You left almost no one for Ghost to take care of.

Down a little ways was Soap and Gaz, trying to book it as fast to the building that you were already entering. Using your pistol, you took out the guards with deadly accuracy. As the boys caught up behind you, they saw the destruction you left in your path. Bodies dead from your single headshot littered the floors, all done with barely a sound thanks to your silencer. Soap cursed in shock as he stepped over bodies in the hall. “Holy shit. Who knew that the lass could do something like this?”

“Just be glad she’s on our side.” Gaz responded, equally impressed by your kills. 

Ghost gave a dry chuckle, pride swelling within him. “Should’ve seen her in action. Glacé is like a machine.”

A minute later and all the men found you in a room, an unconscious target taped to a chair with two dead guards bleeding on the floor. Price was deeply impressed, but his words of praise would have to wait. Right now, they needed to know where the explosives were. “Any bombs?”

“Negative, Captain. Text messages from the leader’s phone reveal that the bombs are set in place in town, though.” You answered, passing him the phone you swiped after  you roundhouse kicked the target.

While Price read through the messages, the target groaned, coming back too. His eyes fluttered open, anger spreading throughout his face as he saw the 141 look down on him. Price cut to the chase, his tone threatening with each word. “Give us every single location of the bombs you planted. Now!”

“Fuck you!” The leader simply responded, spitting blood onto the floor. A bruise already began to form on the side of his face where you kicked him. As his rageful eyes looked between the men, he smirked. He didn’t plan on cracking. 

Ghost waltzed up and punched him, a crack resounding in the room from a broken tooth. In response, it was simply spit out followed by a wicked smile. He chuckled. “You really think that’s gonna make me talk? Breaking my jaw? You’re gonna have to try something else.”

“I can break him!” You spoke up, your features soft as if you weren’t watching a bloody interrogation. Price and Ghost’s gaze snapped to you, a little shocked that you were volunteering so cheerfully. They remembered that your file mentioned that you were great in interrogations. How could a sweet thing like you get someone so evil to talk?

Well, they didn’t have many other options. Price nodded. “Soap and Gaz, keep watch at the door. Take care of anyone that may cause a problem.”

“Aye, Captain.” They simultaneously confirmed before camping at the doorway. Then, Price and Ghost took a step back, allowing you all the space you could possibly need. This oughta be good.

You grabbed a spare chair, dragging it across the floor to set right in front of the terrorist. Taking a seat, you smiled at the man. A sickly sweet smile that unsettled him for some reason. However, he played it off with vile insults. “This is your secret weapon? A fucking chick? What is she gonna do? A little whore like her won’t make me talk unless she sucks my dick.”

Fury rose in Ghost’s soul as he talked to you like that. His jaw clenched and his muscles tenses, aching to beat the shit out of the target. He stepped forward, almost caving into his rage before Price put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The captain wanted to punch the man senseless, too, but they had to trust that you were able to do this. 

You merely laughed off the insults, finding his attempts to intimidate you pathetic. “Oh, come on now. That’s not very nice. Did someone forget who roundhouse kicked you unconscious? Give me a little more credit. Anyway, the bombs. Give us every location, please~!”

His eyes widened at your rather playful attitude, the unsettling feeling growing past his stomach and into his heart. Still, he kept his mouth shut, his voice turning into a low growl. “Even if you ask me nicely, I won’t tell. That town deserves to burn to the ground. A new world will be built upon its ashes.”

With a sigh, you shook your head. “Oh well. I tried to play nice. I guess we will have to do this the hard way. Don’t blame me for what happens next~”

Without explaining any further, you unsheathed your knife. The chair was dragged behind the target after you got up, allowing you a new place to sit that revealed exactly what you wanted. Sitting behind him, you began to cut his shirt away to reveal spine. “Ghost? You mind bending his body forward for me? Keep the legs of the chair on the ground, though. Just stretch him.”

Quirking his brow out of curiosity, Ghost walked forwards and followed your instructions. He had no idea where you were going with this. Once the target was in position, the bones of his neck and spine stuck out against his skin nicely. You counted the bones, starting from the bottom using the tip of your blade. 

As soon as you had your count, you glided your knife against his T12. “Feel that? That’s your T12. This little vertebrae helps you use your legs. A fracture here doesn’t completely paralyze you, but it will be quite uncomfortable. You may feel a little numb in one leg along with back pain. Now, tell us where the bombs are planted, please~”

A shaky laugh was given, trying to call your bluff. As you worked, shivers ran across the 141’s own spines. This was your method? Spinal cord knowledge? You were both a genius and the scariest person in the room right now. Ghost, who had a front row seat, saw how you positioned your knife handle with careful accuracy.

“You think I’m afraid of a little pain and numbness?” The target mocked, his anxiety growing in secret.

Without warning, you hit his T11 with the handle of your knife. A crack resonated throughout the room along with screams of pain. Searing pain went through his body, tears threatening to escape his eyes. Parts of his body began to go numb. “AHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“That was actually your T11. A fracture here is much more painful. Recovery isn’t out of the realm of possibility yet, though. Where are the bombs?” You casually explained, your tone still light as if you were drinking hot cocoa with Ghost in the mess hall back on base. 

The target choked on his breath, the pain feeding the growing anxiety that traveled through all the nerves he could still feel. Still, he refused to confess with a shaky breath. Ignorance was bliss for him. He had no idea how much worse it could get. “Th-This is nothing! Fuck you, whore!”

Another blood curdling scream filled the room as you fractured another part of his spine with ease. Severe kidney pain with his back flared up like fire inside him. You might as well just have stabbed him directly in the kidney. “That was your T9, a vertebrae connected to your adrenal glands. Fascinating that the spine is connected to more than just simple nerves, huh? Controls more than just movement. The spinal cord is actually incredibly important to the function of the whole human body”

“YOU BITCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!” He screamed, tears now uncontrollable from the pain. It wasn’t just the immediate pain that haunted him, though. It was the fact that if you kept going, if he didn’t seek treatment soon, he could suffer from paralysis for the rest of his life.

“The bombs. Where are they? If you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to hit your C5 next. This one won’t hurt, but the long-term side effects won’t be pretty.” You pressured once again, your knife handle slowly traveling further up his spine.

Stubborn as a mule, he steeled himself and shook his head, refusing to speak. You clicked your tongue like a disappointed school teacher. “By the way, my name is Glacé. They call me that because I tend to sugarcoat things.”

The scream that followed as soon as you shattered his C5 was unforgettable. It was bound to keep even some of the members of the 141 up for a couple nights. Your psychological game combined with your physical one was outstanding. Apparently, someone as sweet as you could really bring a man to incoherent screams and tears.

“Please, no more. I-I can’t feel my legs. . .” The target cried, his pants becoming darker in color as he soiled himself. Such was one of the side effects of injuring the C5. Loss of bowel and bladder control was quite common. Paralysis of the trunk and legs as well. 

You didn’t pull away yet, your knife raising further up to his C3 which controlled his breathing along with more motion function. However, you didn’t tell him that. You didn’t need to. “Every single bomb. If you neglect to mention one, then I will have no problem coming back to fracture more of your spine. Not that you would be able to escape very far with your legs now~”

With a solemn nod and sob of defeat, he revealed each and every location of his planted bombs throughout the nearby city. Along with the detail that the explosives were actually already set on a timer. They were all set to detonate by noon the next day on the dot. After the locations were taken down, you patted the target’s shoulder. “Thank you for the information. However, keeping you alive would be an act of disservice to the world~”

A hard force to his C3 had him spasm, drowning out all sounds with his cries until he lost the last of his breath. Struggling to breath, the man began to slump, losing control of his diaphragm from the injury. It wouldn’t take him long to die out due to this. Not before experiencing some time of pure suffering, though. 

The compound itself held no more enemies, the last of them being killed by Soap and Gaz when they came to check on their boss. When no enemies were in sight once the team stepped outside, Price radioed Kate with the new information. While you walked back through the jungle to reach the rendezvous point where a helicopter would pick you up, Ghost kept stealing glances at you. 

All he could think about was how beautifully you performed. Terrifying, yet your tone was still sweet until the end. The way you did your job so accurately, so ambitiously, it was like watching art. 

If he wasn’t in love with you before, he was definitely in love with you now. 

~

Police ran everywhere around the city, helping find the bombs that were ticking down. One by one, they were diffused. Each one was reported after the job was done, Kate keeping a list which was checked off with each find and diffusing. The team was split up, each one of you assigned to diffuse bombs yourself with your own squad of local authorities. 

At first, the authorities didn’t know how to react when they realized that you were in command of them. However, there wasn’t time to debate. They followed your instructions to a tee, finding the explosives diligently. It was pretty clear why you were in charge after the first few bombs were diffused. 

“South side cleared. Good work, Soap.” Kate praised through the radio, allowing everyone to know that the south side of the heart of the city was safe. Soon after, Gaz’s north side was cleared followed by Price’s west and Ghost’s east. You were still working on the central center, the bombs hidden more carefully.

“Glacé, how are we doing? I still have two bombs left unchecked on my end.” Kate radioed you, concern starting to show through her voice. It wasn’t noon yet. There were still a few hours before then. However, anything could go wrong. It was better to find all of them as quickly as possible to avoid any accidents.

“Still searching for the last two. They’re better hidden than the others.” You confessed, your short-term squad searching the entire building for them behind you. You were searching under cubicles, under chairs, in vents, on ceiling fans, everywhere that you could possibly think off. 

“Everyone, head over to where Glacé is to help her. Bring your squads too. The more eyes, the better.” Kate instructed. Everyone agreed, the men making their way across the city to you in armored cars.

You raked your eyes over the floor you were on. Nothing but cubicles as far as the eye could see. Papers scattered everywhere from the search. Authorities scrambled to find the last bombs. Taking a deep breath, you continued your search, hoping to find the explosives before the rest of the team gets to you.

“Sergeant Glacé! There’s a closet hidden back here behind the filing cabinets!” One of your squad members called out. The men pushed the cabinets back to access the closet. When one of the men began to open the door, you saw a brief shine. A glimmer so quick that you could’ve missed it if you blinked. A trip wire.

“STO-”

Everything flashed white followed by a wave of heat. The shockwave sent you to the floor, disorientating you to the point of nauseousness. The sound of concrete and pipes breaking were deafening. Another explosion sounded off from the floor above, the first bomb triggering the second. The whole building shook like an earthquake hit it. The floor above began to crumble away over you. Pieces of it already began to rain down upon you. With the little strength you had left, you crawled under a cubicle, the desk protecting you as the falling building caved you in. 

Then, you blacked out. 

On the outside, the team saw the shattering glass, the burst of fire and smoke, and parts of the building already beginning to crumble. Ghost’s blood ran cold, his heart stopping in its tracks. Being the man behind the wheel of the armored vehicle, he floored it suddenly. The only thing on his mind was getting to you.

The 141 frantically radioed you, panic in their voices as they tried to make sure that you’re okay. When they heard no answer, fear began to take hold. This was your first mission with them, but they weren’t ready to lose you. Not with how much you meant to all of them. Especially Ghost. 

The car screeched to a halt in front of the tall building. Without even taking the keys out of the ignition, the men exited the vehicle and ran into the building. Thankfully, the foundation kept it standing. 

“Laswell! What were the locations of the last missing bombs?!” Price contacted Kate, trying to help the team save time from searching every floor for you. There was no time to waste if you were dying. 

“Fourteenth floor and sixteenth floor! I’m sending medics your way now! Be careful of debris.” Kate relayed, already working on getting medics and a helicopter to you. Sprinting up the stairwell, the men reached your floor. When they opened the door, they began to cough from all the smoke and debris left behind in the explosives’ destruction. Treading carefully, they began to search the rubble. 

Your squad members were scattered, many of them pinned, many of them dead. Gaz, Soap, and Price began to drag them out, praying that the medical team would arrive soon. Ghost focused on looking for you. That’s all he really cared about.

“Glacé! Glacé! Y/n!” He called, eventually using your real name that he remembers from your file. Piles upon piles of concrete made his anxiety get worse and worse. The longer he searched, the longer he couldn’t hear you respond, the more panicked he got. 

Eventually, you began to stir awake, a brain-splitting headache taking hold. You coughed dust out of your lungs, your throat drier than a desert. Your skin felt dirty, caked with dust. Your ears were still ringing, but you could hear Ghost calling out for you. He used your real name. Slowly, you raised your aching arm to your radio. “Simon?”

When Ghost heard you call out his real name from his radio, he almost collapsed with relief. You were alive. His voice shook when he replied back to you.“Y/n! Where are you?”

“Under a cubicle. I’m caved in by debris. I don’t think I can push the concrete by myself right now. I’m okay, though.” You sugarcoated. One of your ribs definitely felt broken. The pain was sharp and it was a bit hard to breathe. 

“Hang on, we’re gonna get you.” Ghost promised, already pulling away collapsed concrete with his hands. Price and Soap joined him, taking crowbars to pull away at the rubble around the cubicles. Gaz focused on saving more men from your squad on Captain’s orders. 

Finally, you could see glimpses of light from your team moving what was caving you in. The sudden bright light when the large piece of rubble made you wince, no windows to prevent the sun from hurting your eyes. When your vision came back, the first thing you saw was Ghost’s skull mask. He looked like he was close to tears when he saw you.

You gave him a weak smile as he helped you out from under the desk. Instead of helping you stand though, he pulled you in for a hug, cradling you in his arms. He thought he almost lost you. 

When he squeezed just a little too tightly, you hissed. That broken rib of yours was starting to really hurt now. He looked down at you, examining how you automatically held your ribcage. “Your ribs are broken. You’re not okay.”

His scolding tone was light, but you still felt bad. “Yeah. . . I’m sorry. . .”

“We’ll discuss this later. Right now, you need medical attention. A helicopter should be here any moment.” He sighed, feeling guilty at how sorry you looked. Ghost didn’t mean to make you feel so bad. However, he didn’t like how you sugarcoated the truth to him. Even if it was to prevent him from panicking too much.

Right on cue, the sound of the helicopter began to fill the air. Dust kicked up as the blades whirled closer to the side of the building, right near the broken windows. Nikolai expertly handled the flying machine, getting as close as he could so you could board. Kate held out her hand for you to take once your team got you back on your feet. 

As soon as you were aboard, the helicopter began to head to the safehouse so you could receive your medical attention in peace. The local hospital was sure to be full of men that your team just helped save. 

Ghost watched the helicopter disappear into the distance, nerves still feeling unsteady as if this was the last time he would see you. A hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him out of his dark thoughts. Soap gave a supportive grin. “She’ll be okay. She’s sweet, but also tough as nails.”

~

It’s been eight weeks since Ghost last saw you. All that time was spent recovering in your apartment off base. While he wanted to visit you, he didn’t want to intrude. Your text messages were the only thing that let the team know that you were safe as well as taking it easy. Doctor’s orders.

You were missing your team as well. Especially Ghost. Every day you missed him more and more. Making him tea, the teakwood smell of his cologne, his baritone voice. You often thought about the way he hugged you last time you saw him. How close he held you. 

There were little things that would make you think about him in your apartment as well. Whenever you had to open your kitchen cupboard, you thought about how he would always get your mug for you, often standing behind you with his chest close to your back. You knew that he was putting your mug on the top shelf on purpose. It was obvious since he always cleaned up your mug after you left. You always gave him a chance to confess, but he always played innocent. 

As you stood in front of your cupboard now, trying to pick out a cute mug, you giggled from the memories. By now, you were fully healed, but the doctor recommended giving it another couple of days with light exercise to help adjust back into work before actually being on base again.

Being a perfect patient, you followed every order. Now though, you were bored. Normally you could keep yourself occupied for a while all by yourself. And you did for as long as you could. Now, you wanted at least some good company.

An idea dawned upon you, causing you to pull out your phone and send a text to Ghost. You invited him to your apartment for drinks, the usual tea and cocoa to create more normalcy in your life. It didn’t take long for him to reply, saying that he was on his way.

In a little less than half an hour, there was a knock at your door. You got up and opened it, greeting him warmly with a bright smile and a tight hug. “I missed you~”

Simon lost his breath when he saw you for the first time in eight weeks. You were dressed in civilian clothes, something he’s never really seen before. The sky blue skinny jeans you wore paired with your white blouse made you look like the perfect little housewife. A special treat he could just eat right up.   

God, he missed you. He’s been dying to see you again to not only work with a beauty like you, but to also finally confess his feelings to you. “I missed you too, y/n. Let’s head inside, yeah? I got something important to tell you.”

You gave him a quick, tight squeeze before letting go, ushering him into your cute apartment. Everything in your space matched your soft personality. Cute colors on the walls, healthy plants near windows, white furniture with flowers painted on. He would’ve never guessed that you were a beast on the battlefield based on your apartment alone. Knowing that you were felt like a special secret that only he knew.

“Thanks for coming over by the way! It’s been a little lonely being here by myself. I kinda did all the things that usually entertain me already when I was first ordered to recover at home. Anyway, I got your favorite tea! Just give me a moment to make it for you.” You rambled, missing being able to talk to the person you cared about.

A hand on your shoulder stopped you from waltzing into your kitchen. “Oh no you don’t. While I’m here, you’re taking it easy. I’ll make the drinks. You sit on the couch and wait. Put on some of your favorite music at the most.”

His stern tone sent a little shiver through you, cheeks growing red as he stirred something inside you. “O-Oh! Okay! If you need any help, let me know!”

With a pep in your step you headed to your soft couch. Settling in with a fluffy blanket, you grabbed the TV remote and turned on some light music. Not too loud so you would be able to have a conversation with Ghost.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Simon was doing his best in making your drink just how you liked it. While he’s seen you do it many times, he was still nervous about screwing it up somehow. He picked out two different strawberry mugs for the both of you, filling each one with hot cocoa mix. Just like you did, he waited for the milk to simmer, poured them into the mugs, and gave them a gentle stir. He found whipped cream in your fridge which he used on both of the mugs. When he put the whipped cream back, he noticed a leftover bar of chocolate in your fridge. It didn’t look bitten into. Rather, a corner of it seemed shaved off.

Grabbing it and finding mini marshmallows in your pantry, he finished off the mugs with chocolate shavings and marshmallows on top of the whipped cream. The cream didn’t look as pretty like when you did it, but the chocolate shavings helped make it look not so bad.

Taking the mugs, he carried them to your living room only to see you waiting patiently for him, a big smile on your face that was contagious. Simon handed you your mug before settling into the couch beside you. 

You eyed his mug, surprised that he didn’t opt for his usual tea this time. The strawberry-shaped cup in his large hands didn’t quite match his military image. He was still in camo pants and the classic military beige shirt like he just came from base. “I thought you didn’t have much of a sweet tooth for things like this.”

“I didn’t until I met you.” He admitted, leaving you unsure if that was meant to be flirty or not. Either way, it sent the butterflies in your tummy into a frenzy. 

You took a sip of cocoa, the chocolate-covered whipped cream melting on your tongue. Simon observed you, watching your expression to morph into satisfaction or disgust. A weight was lifted off his shoulders as you beamed at him, making his own heart skip a beat. “It’s delicious! Thank you~”

He nodded silently, debating his next move. Ultimately, he decided that he was ready to give you everything he had to offer. Removing his mask off completely, you saw his face for the first time. You almost choked on your marshmallow as you took in how handsome he was. 

Chiseled features, beautiful blue eyes flattered by blonde lashes, facial scars here and there that only made him look more ruggedly handsome. You could feel your face heat up as you stared, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Something on my face?” He smirked while raising his cocoa to his lips, eating up your reaction. He was hoping that you would react this way. He wanted to have your heart pounding for him. 

Realizing that you were being teased, you giggled. The blush on your face was getting redder by the second. Waiting until he was done with his sip, you responded by wiping the whipped cream off his face with your thumb. You kissed it off your thumb when you pulled back, still somehow being able to be relatively smooth while also being a gooey mess inside. “Just a little whipped cream~”

Simon’s ears turned red from your actions. His heart almost burst out of his chest. Not being able to hold it in anymore, he set both of your mugs down on the coffee table. Once those were placed down, he cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss.

Your eyes went wide for a moment. You didn’t expect him to suddenly kiss you like this. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. Fireworks erupted through you. Before you knew it, you were leaning back into the kiss, tasting the sweet chocolate and cream off his lips.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him while your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. You wanted to touch him like this for so long. Ever since you first shared drinks together you wanted to touch him. As soon as he licked your leftover whipped cream off his thumb you wanted to wrap your arms around him for a kiss. 

The kiss became deeper as it went on, small moans escaping from you that was real music to Simon’s ears. You tasted so sweet to him. So soft to the touch under his hands. More than anything, he wanted to taste you further. Cave into his craving for you. 

When you pulled apart to catch your breaths, Simon saw how brightly your eyes shined. How cutely you smiled at him. He wanted to make you his so badly. “Y/n, I want you to be mine. I want you to belong only to me. Will you be my love?”

You blinked, hardly believing that those words came out of his mouth. It was impossible to fight back the smile that formed on your face. You wanted to dance with joy. For now, you sprung up and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Your pretty scent, your lovely laughter, and your velvety softness blessed his senses as he held you close right back.

“Absolutely, Simon! I would love to be yours~!” You accepted, hardly being able to contain yourself as your lips crashed against his right after.

You could feel him smile against you, equally as happy that you accepted. You resumed making out, each kiss full of love as feelings were mutual. Large hands felt up your curves, causing you to moan into the passionate kisses. Not being able to help himself, he swiped his tongue against your lips, urging you to open your mouth for him. As soon as you did, his tongue slipped through to overtake you. His warm, soft tongue wrestled against yours, aiming to taste just how sugary sweet you were. 

As he deepened the kiss, your fingers ran through his blond locks, the silky strands feeling nice against your touch. A low, guttural moan came from Simon as your own touch caused him to tremble. The effect you had on him was out of this world.

Slowly, he lifted you up to have you sit in his lap. He began to lose control as your soft chest pressed against his. You could feel his firm chest as he breathed heavily, getting lost in the kisses you shared. Your own breath was getting hot and heavy. Underneath you, you could start to feel a subtle rise of his pants as an erection began to grow. 

When you shifted in his lap, your hips grinding into his by accident, he gave a sharp groan. His hands landed firmly on your hips to stop moving, a fluttering feeling inside you coming to life as he handled you. 

Simon pulled away from the kiss, feeling like he was embarrassing himself by getting so sexual with you. You had just agreed to become his girlfriend! Did he really have no self control when it came to you? “We should stop. I don’t want to rush things if you aren’t ready.”

“Who says I’m not ready?” You genuinely asked, a curious tilt of your head making you look absolutely adorable in his eyes. His erection twitched, only growing bigger the longer you sat in his lap with that kissable face of yours. 

“Seriously, sweetheart, I’m trying to be a pretty decent boyfriend right now.” Simon warned, his playfully narrowing eyes sending your heart into overdrive. The new nickname had you grinning as well.

“What if I told you that I didn’t mind taking things further? It’s been lonely recovering here all by myself. My usual efforts to ease the tension haven’t been working so great.” You explained delicately. While you were open to talking about how you felt, you were still a little shy hearing the words out loud. 

Simon took your words seriously. It was hard to say no to you. He wanted to give you the world. Such a sweet thing like you deserved all of the love in the world if you wanted it. 

Not being able to refuse your advance, he began to gently kiss your neck. The sensation of his soft lips on your sensitive skin already had you trembling. Sweet kisses trailed down to your exposed collarbone, Simon excited to go further down on you. “At any point where you want to stop, tell me. We’ll stop immediately.”

“Don’t stop, Simon.” You sighed as his kisses became firmer. Parted lips suckled on your skin, leaving marks on your skin. He wanted to cover you with them to let everyone know that you were his. 

The tent in his pants got larger and firmer, throbbing every so often against your crotch as you grinded into him. You could feel your panties become damp with your arousal, the feeling of his erection pressing against your needy folds making you excited. Wanting things to progress further, you pulled off your blouse to reveal your lacy bra.

Simon wasn’t much into lingerie. He always had the mindset that lingerie would end up on the floor anyways, so what did it matter. However, seeing your daily, cute lace bra on you like a delicate candy wrapper hiding a sweet treat had him reeling. Christ, he wanted to completely unwrap you and indulge. 

The way your new boyfriend looked at you in just your lacy bra alone filled you with fuzz. The way his eyes ran all over you, taking in your figure that was so close to his, made you shiver. You wanted to be eaten by him just as much as he did. If not even more. 

Passionate kisses resumed, tongues tangling together as hands roamed each other’s bodies. Slipping your hands under his shirt, you felt how hot he was running. Muscles flexed under your touch. Moans entered your mouth. Simon’s skin felt like heaven, even with the scars from hell that he had all over him. 

“Mmn, you taste so sweet, sweetheart.” He praised you, his cock now fully erect within his pants. Wanting more, you helped take off this shirt. You almost began to drool as soon as you got to see his bare chest. Broad and strong. 

You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, your breasts free to rub against the chest that you were aching for as soon as you were ready. For a moment, you got up too and removed your pants along with your panties. Simon’s brain short circuited for a second as you stood in front of him almost unapologetically nude. 

There was a bit of blush still on your cheeks as you hoped that Simon liked what he saw. Even the parts that you felt self-conscious about and the new scars that you got from the last mission. However, to Simon, you were the most beautiful woman in the entire world. The best thing he has ever seen.

He was eager to touch your soft skin, run his hands over your silky folds, and rake his fingers through your luscious hair. More than anything, he wanted to make you feel good. Especially if you have been sexually frustrated during your recovery. 

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. May I touch you?” Simon complimented, pulling you back onto his lap, making sure that you were situated comfortably. 

You knew what he meant when he asked. Your senses tingled and pussy clenched when he asked so nicely. As much as you wanted him to touch you, another part was a bit bashful. You were already so wet for him that you didn’t want to scare him off. Nonetheless, you couldn’t resist the offer. 

After you nodded, Simon turned you around in his lap, your back against his solid chest like you always belonged there. Large, firm hands began to massage your breasts, body already shuttering from the touch. You sighed in pleasure as he handled your tits with just the right amount of grip, squeezing in all the right places. Each touch was deliberate. Simon wanted to know every sweet spot you had. Every place that made you tremble and moan. When he began pinching your precious nipples, you flinched suddenly.

Simon gave a soft chuckle, kissing the side of your head. “Sensitive here, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yeah. . .” You blushed, figuring that being honest for him was going to be the best for the both of you at the moment. 

“Good girl.” He praised, his accented, husky voice going straight into your ear. With one hand, he felt up your stomach and down your hips. He kept going until he was feeling up the inside of your thighs. Some pressure on your skin motioned for you to spread your legs farther for him. 

Like his good, sweet girl, you obeyed. The open air hitting your slick slit made you whimper. Simon’s fingers traced up the skin of your thigh until he was just grazing your weeping cunt. Fluid coated his fingers like a smooth sugar glaze. “Look at you, so wet for me.”

Your breath became heavier and heavier as your heart raced faster. He was teasing you, gently spreading your mess all over your fluttering folds. When he did apply more pressure, thick fingers exploring your external crevices, you let out a cute moan. One that Simon wanted on a record. 

In circular, powerful strokes, Simon rubbed your swollen clit. While it soothed the ache for his physical touch, it began to drive you wild for more. Earthquakes of pleasure shook you to your core. You may have bucked out of Simon’s lap if it wasn’t for his other arm and hand holding you down across your torso. 

Pinching your clit softly between his fingers, he did the same with your nipple. You cried out deliciously, Simon smiling at every reaction that you gave him. His own arousal throbbed and ached, hitting the back of you with mutual need for more. Yet, he could hold it back if it meant getting you off first.

However, you knew that he was holding back for you. Not only did you feel it in his cock, but in his heart as his chest thumped against your back with each beat. It made you want him even more. More than just his kisses and fingers.

“I-Inside. . .” You begged, the words falling off your tongue as you became breathless. It wasn’t enough for him to play with just your clit anymore. You needed something inside. Something that will hit you deep in all the right places. 

His fingers began to toy with your entrance, more of your honey leaking out. “Sorry, sweetheart. Not yet. I need to loosen you up first before I can give you more. Be a good girl for me and stay patient, yeah?”

Before you could respond, his fingers plunged into you with ease. You gasped and moaned, tightening around him as he began to slowly rub your insides as deep as he could go. Kisses landed on your cheek and neck, praises for your patience spilling out as he continued to pump his fingers. Your head began to feel fuzzy along with every single blood cell that flowed through your body. 

You were making a complete mess out of his hand, your slippery slick traveling up into his palm as it pressed against your still throbbing clit. The other hand still played with your tits, rubbing your nipples in time with how his palm rubbed up your clit. 

Your toes curled as his fingers did, hitting that delicate spot inside you that made you see stars. Moans turned into cries as you felt yourself getting closer to climax. Simon’s cock began to leak pre-cum as he felt you squirm and squeeze around his fingers. You looked so perfect like this. Close to orgasm, mouth opening to release each moan. 

As you clenched down, Simon quickly turned your face towards him, lips pressing against yours to eat up your orgasmic cries. Suddenly, his tongue slipped into your mouth just as he pumped faster into you. With the firmer, quicker movements, he was rubbing against your clit at an overwhelming rate. Pinching your nipple for the final time sealed the deal as he plunged you into your climax.

He held you down tight against his warm body, eating up moan after moan as you shuttered hard. You doused his fingers and tightened up so much that you were sucking him in. Even as you came all over his hand, Simon still rubbed your walls, not wanting you to completely recover from your orgasm. 

When he broke the kiss, you gasped for air. Your hands that gripped the couch cushion below you felt numb. Still, you raised them, grasping Simon’s arms to get him to give you a second. 

And just like that, he stopped. He didn’t want to push you too far after all. If you needed a moment to catch your breath, he would gladly give it to you.

“S-Simon. . .” You weakly called out, going limp against his chest. As wiped as you were, you didn’t want to just end it there. There was still a strong desire to feel his cock inside you. It was something you didn’t mind pushing for now if you needed to.

However, that dazed, yet needy look of yours said everything to Simon. Carefully, he laid you down onto the couch. As you settled in comfortably, he removed the rest of his clothes. His cock sprang to life, still leaking pre-cum. He didn’t have any condoms on him and he doubted you did too, but he trusted himself not to go too far.

You trusted him too, arms raising up towards him, inviting him into your embrace. Finally, he was going to make love to you. 

Positioning himself first, his erection pressed against your entrance, giving him chills from how hot you were already. Once he was in position, he slowly lowered himself over you, arms on each side of your head. 

Holding onto him tight, you braced yourself for his intrusion, your pussy stretching to accommodate his large size. Your nails dug into his back, your breath hitching as he took his time pushing himself deeper into you. Just him going in made all your nerves go haywire. When he was finally all in, he sighed in relief. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You shook your head, trying to hold back whimpers. “I’m okay. You just. . . It feels good. . .”

Love flashed in Simon’s blue eyes, ecstatic that he wasn’t causing you pain. Not wanting to jinx it, he moved at a tender pace. Passionate kisses were peppered over your soft lips as he began to thrust, causing you to moan. The way his cock massaged the deepest parts of you had your body feel like it was on fire. 

“Fuck! Don’t clench down like that all of a sudden. You’re already tight, y/n.” Simon hissed, his expression wincing from the pleasure of your cunt tightening around him more than before. 

Just him saying your name had to tighten up again, making Simon give a low groan. Afterwards, he smirked, sending your heart aflame. “You like it when I use your real name, y/n?”

Again, you clenched without meaning to, your nectar dripping out and down your filled cunt. “Y-Yeah. . .”

“Good girl. You know, I like it when you use my name too.” He hinted, his pace picked up so he could hear his name come out of you.

“S-Simon!” You gasped at his new speed, feeling every single inch of him reach deep inside until he bottomed out before thrusting outwards. Simon couldn’t believe how wet, hot, and tight you were. It was like a dream come true seeing you shake with ecstasy, cry out his name, and hold him for more. The way you dug your pretty little fingernails into his muscular back made him shiver. 

He buried his face into your neck and kissed your skin, making sure that you would get all the pleasure you deserved. Your moans got louder as his movements became more passionate. Feverish. You made a mess on your couch, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how good it felt for Simon to make love to you. How good it felt to feel all of him inside you. As tight as you were around him, it felt like you were made for each other.

Screaming his name, your hand went up to his hair, gripping onto blonde locks as you got close to an orgasm again. Simon could feel it too with the way you sucked him in. His cock throbbed at the prospect of you cumming all over him. He wanted to be able to cum with you so bad, but he wouldn’t do that to you. Not without your consent or being ready for that next step. For now, he was just loving how perfect your pussy was for him. 

Sweet words of praise and encouragement flooded your ears, pushing you closer to cumming. Simon thrusted harder and deeper, yet still kept his flawless pace to not completely break your flow. “That’s it, sweetheart. Give it all to me.”

When you felt his tongue glide against your neck, you nearly cried out his name for the final time. Your legs around Simon kept him close, allowing him to feel just how much you could clench around him. Douse him in your sweet honey. He didn’t mind how hard your nails were digging into his back or how firm your grip on his hair was. Actually, it felt heavenly as he continued to thrust into you for his own pleasure. 

Your quivers became more violent as Simon kept pumping through your orgasm, more and more of your nectar making a mess on both of you. You bit your lip as you tried to regain control, but it didn’t matter. Whimpers, whines, and moans just wouldn’t stop flowing out of you. Each cry was sending Simon to his own climax. Wanting to hear even more, he gave in to going faster.

Without knowing it, Simon made you cum once again. Since he didn’t stop while you were orgasming the first time, your senses were overloaded with indulgence. Your brain went and vision turned into fuzz again as you came harder the second time. 

Simon growled as you soaked him once more, feeling your pussy try to milk him for everything he’s got. His own vision was seeing stars as the pressure began to build for him. With one last shred of reasoning left, he pulled out of you and stroked out the rest of his orgasm with his hand. His body strained to keep him upright as he jerked off over you. Hot, white ropes of cum showered your belly as Simon worked himself. 

Finally, he slowed to a stop, breath heavy and brain catching up to reality. When he saw the mess he left on you, he captured the moment in his mind like a picture. When you came as well, you looked up at him with the most adoring look in your eyes. 

Taking a tissue from the box on your coffee table, he wiped you clean. Then, he took one of the blankets you draped over the top of the couch onto the both of you, Simon spooning you close as the both of you regained some energy back. 

You nuzzled his hand that was draped over you. “Stay over tonight?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you wish.” He promised, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

[mononijikayu]

“i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine— gojo satoru.

Your heart swelled with tenderness that you’ve never felt before. And yet all at once, that unescapable touch of sadness at the thought of his departure. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face. That tender face, that laughing face. Gojo Satoru was the wonder of your world. In his existence, in his every breath, his every touch, his every grin — you couldn’t help but feel like life was anything else but worth living.

GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

LISTEN: valentine by laufey

NOTE: when i listened to laufey, i wondered about satoru a lot. i think its because satoru is just very love coded, you know? he's a romantic at heart. he's gentle too. also, he definitely loves chara-bentos. genmei (you) really make the best of it. he requests digimon a lot, but you're still working on it!!! anyway, enjoy this!!! i love you~

masterlist

u s and t h e m

2008

YOU WERE EXCITED TO HAVE SOME SLEEP AFTER THIS. With a smile, you approached your apartment, juggling grocery bags in both hands. The weight of the bags felt lighter than the relief you felt after finally securing a leave from your sorcerer duties.

Gakuganji had been quite adamant about keeping you around, insisting on your presence for various missions. Yet, you were exhausted, both physically and mentally. The constant strain of back-to-back missions had left you yearning for rest and proper sleep.

When you received the news that your leave had been approved, a wave of immense relief and joy washed over you. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted off your shoulders. The thought of having a break, a chance to breathe and recharge, filled you with happiness.

However, as you entered your apartment, the excitement was briefly tempered by the realization that your pantry and fridge were nearly empty. The thought of enjoying a peaceful day off without any food was disheartening, so you quickly decided to go out and buy some groceries.

Now, with bags filled with fresh ingredients and your favorite snacks, including the much-anticipated coffee jelly, you couldn't wait to relax and enjoy the evening. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over your own quaint neighborhood.

The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, creating a serene backdrop as you walked towards your apartment. The gentle breeze carried the sounds of children playing in the distance and the faint hum of traffic, adding to the peaceful ambiance.

As you neared your stairs, you paused, noticing a familiar figure slumped against the railing. The sight of the usually energetic and lively Satoru Gojo looking so worn out tugged at your heart. His head was resting against the railing, and he seemed to be half-asleep. Your brows furrowed in confusion and surprise. Why was he here all of a sudden? How did he even know where you lived? You’ve always left that from records.

"Gojo–kun?" you called softly, as you patted his shoulder.  He stirred, blinking slowly, his cerulean eyes unfocused as he tried to wake up. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

"Hey, senpai." he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry…. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

You could only frown, realizing how tired he looks. You can only think he’s been doing a lot of missions again. You’d already told everyone, especially Yaga–sensei, that the kids should be resting still. It’s only been a few months since the failure of their mission, since Gojo Satoru’s awakening. And since then, none had listened to your advice.

From what you heard, the missions they’d been sent on lately had been solo missions and one after another, they barely had any time to themselves. You purse your lips. They shouldn’t have to do this. Not when there were others there too. You could feel guilt pulse into you, for taking a break. It’s only a few days at most. But you couldn’t help but wonder what those three days could do to these kids. They’re getting overworked. 

"You've been on too many missions lately, haven’t you?" you asked, concern evident in your voice as you looked at Satoru, who was now seated on the couch, still wearing the exhaustion from his recent endeavors.

"Yeah." he admitted with a weary sigh, his cerulean eyes meeting yours. "It's been non-stop. But passing on missions right now... I don't think that's a good idea."

You sat down beside him, feeling a mix of empathy and worry. "Why not? You need rest, Gojo–kun. Geto–kun’s been shouldering cases too, hasn't he? Surely there's someone else who can take over some of your workload."

“How come you’re formal with me again?” He pouts at you, taking you aback. “I thought I told you to just call me Satoru?”

“You’re my kouhai, and I am your senpai. There’s still degrees of respect—”

“I don’t care.” He retorts back at you, like the brat that he is. “Just call me Satoru, senpai. Please.”

It was evident in the desperation flickering in his bright blue eyes, the glasses perched slightly askew on his nose. Your own gaze, sharp and unwavering, met his own with understanding.

In the years you had known Gojo Satoru, you had sensed the weight he carried—names like Zenin and Gojo, identities tied to clans and powers, but never fully embracing him as an individual. He had yearned to be recognized for himself, as Satoru, not just as a bearer of lineage and strength.

"You're so talkative for someone who's sleepy, Satoru," you remarked with a sigh, breaking the thoughtful silence between you.

His response was a smile tinged with relief, a small spark of joy amidst weariness. "I always feel good when I'm with you, senpai," he confessed sincerely.

"Don't say it like that," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth to your cheeks at his words. You shook off the embarrassment with a playful scoff. "You're too much, aren't you?"

"Only for you, senpai!" he declared with a mischievous grin, his eyes crinkling with affection.

You shake your head at him. “Did you just come here from a mission? Where’s Geto-kun? I thought I told you to take a break?”

Satoru nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Suguru's been handling a mission by himself, again. Haibara and Nanami are already swamped with their duties. The higher-ups are stretched thin as it is. I doubt they’ll give us time to rest.”

You frowned, “They gave me time to rest.”

“I don’t think they’d go against a special–grade Zenin, senpai.” He points it out to you. “‘sides, I doubt that’s lasting long. You’re too valuable in the field.”

You sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. But you can’t keep going on like this. You’re sleeping in unknown places like this. It’s unhealthy.”

He looked at you gratefully, appreciative of your concern. "I know," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "But it’s what there is. Besides, are you really going to doubt my six-eyes right now, senpai? No random bum is gonna defeat me.”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Be that as it may be, I don’t think that you should be out here all by yourself.”

He watches you as you take out your keys. “You really do live here, huh?”

You turned to him. “You were just guessing?”

“Well, not really but I found you!” His grin annoyed you for a moment.

Your eyes narrow as you sighed. "Come on, let's get you inside."

He nodded, still groggy from fatigue, and followed you into your apartment. The weight of his exhaustion seemed to lift slightly as he stepped across the threshold. Satoru's bright blue eyes scanned the cozy interior, taking in every detail.

The living room welcomed him with its warm ambiance—soft, inviting cushions adorned the couch, bathed in the gentle glow of warm lighting. The faint scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, adding a touch of tranquility to the space.

It felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the sterile and regimented environment of the Jujutsu High dorms where practicality often overshadowed comfort. Here, in your apartment, there was a sense of homeliness that resonated deeply with Satoru.

The walls, adorned with personal touches and memories, spoke of a life lived beyond the battlefield of sorcery. Pictures upon pictures of you and two young women. He could only surmise that it was your friends from Kyoto Jujutsu High. It added a nice touch. But he always gets curious about it all. Still, he doesn't want to put you on the spot.

As he took in the aroma of vanilla essence, he could feel at ease. There was no need for Infinity in this proximity. He was with you. And when he's with you, he's free to be him. He's free to be Satoru. And with you, in this place, he could pretend and set aside the weight of his responsibilities of the strongest far away.

Satoru paused for a moment, taking it all in with a mix of gratitude and relief. He turned to you, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the weariness etched into his features. "Thanks for letting me crash here, senpai." he said, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

You returned his smile, feeling a rush of warmth at his words. "You're welcome. But next time, please call. I thought were dead, laying outside like that."

"But surprises are way more fun, don't you think?"

You sighed. "It's not fun for me, Satoru. I was going to enjoy my coffee jelly in my peace."

“You really have a nice place.” He says as he starts moving around the pillows to the side. “I really didn’t think that this sketchy place had anything to offer.

“I know the owner, she gave me a discount.”

He looks at you with a raised brow. “Why does a Zenin like you with so much money want a discount?”

“None of your business,” you retorted, setting the grocery bags down on the counter with a soft thud. As you walked over to where Satoru lay sprawled out on the couch, you couldn't help but observe him for a moment, taking in the weariness etched into his features.

“How did you really find my place?” you asked, curiosity tinging your voice.

Satoru gave you a lazy grin, his bright blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “The Six Eyes,” he replied simply, as if it explained everything.

You sighed, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “You’re so...”

“Charming?” he interjected, his grin widening.

“Infuriating,” you finished, though there was a hint of fondness in your tone.

You leaned closer, studying his expression. “Do you have a headache?” you asked, concern evident in your voice.

He nodded, his weariness becoming more pronounced. “A little.”

“And by a little, you mean a lot, hm?” you teased gently, knowing well the toll his abilities could take on him.

“It’s not easy trying to narrow down one area, figuring that area out with just your smell in the whole of Nakagyō-ku, you know!” he protested, half-serious, half-playful.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “That sounds like something a stalker would say.”

“Huh!? I’m not a stalker!” Satoru exclaimed, feigning offense.

“Also something a stalker would say,” you teased, unable to resist.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I plead guilty to having heightened senses,” he admitted with a playful glint in his eye.

You chuckled, shaking your head affectionately. “You're incorrigible, Satoru.”

“Only for you, senpai,” he replied with a wink, his playful demeanor melting into a genuine smile. 

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Are you hungry? I was just about to prepare dinner.”

“Ah, that would be great, senpai! I’m starving, y’know?” Satoru replied eagerly, sitting up a bit more on the couch, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten in anticipation of a meal.

You chuckled softly at his enthusiasm. “Alright then, let’s get you fed,” you said warmly, turning towards the kitchen with a sense of purpose.

As you began to gather ingredients and pots, the comforting routine of cooking helped ease the tension that often lingered from Satoru’s exhausting missions. You moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, preparing a meal that you knew would both satisfy his hunger and lift his spirits. The rhythmic sounds of chopping vegetables and sizzling in the pan filled the air, creating a soothing background to your conversation.

“So, any exciting stories from your latest mission?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru as you worked.

He leaned back on the couch, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. “Oh, you know, the usual—exorcizing curses, saving innocents, the usual hero stuff,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. But then he falters for a moment. “Though, the paper work is going to be a pain!”

You chuckled softly. “You make the physical work so easy.” you remarked, turning back to stir the simmering sauce.

“Well, it’s not always a walk in the park at all.” he admitted with a soft sigh. “But…. knowing someone who can be kind to me about it is with me….about everything. It’s good.”

You grinned. “Didn’t take you to be so emotional about that, Satoru.”

He pouts deeply. “Only you can see it like this, senpai.”

You smiled to yourself, grateful that you could provide him with this small comfort. As the aroma of the cooking food filled the kitchen, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you both—a moment of peace amidst the chaos of their lives as sorcerers.

As you moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner with practiced ease, Satoru couldn't help but watch you with a soft smile playing on his lips. The way you effortlessly navigated the space, your movements graceful and purposeful, captivated him. Each chop of the vegetables, each stir of the simmering pot, seemed like a dance orchestrated by someone who knew the kitchen intimately.

The comforting aroma of food slowly filled the air, mingling with the soft evening light filtering through the windows. Satoru leaned back on the couch, his gaze fixed on you with a warmth that bloomed in his chest. It wasn't just the meal you were preparing—it was the care and thoughtfulness behind it that touched him deeply.

In that moment, amidst the clinking of utensils and the gentle hum of the stove, Satoru realized how fond he had become of you. It wasn't just your strength as a sorcerer or your wisdom as a senpai that drew him in—it was the way you effortlessly made a house into a home, a sanctuary where he could find solace and peace.

"You know," he began, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity, "I think you're spoiling me, senpai."

You turned towards him, a playful glint in your eye as you stirred the pot. "Oh, am I?" you teased gently, your smile warm and inviting.

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with unabashed admiration.

As you placed the dishes on the table, the spread before him elicited a delighted grin from Satoru. "This looks amazing, senpai," he praised, his eyes lighting up with genuine appreciation.

You sat down across from him, sharing the meal together in comfortable silence, punctuated by occasional laughter and shared stories. The simple act of enjoying a home-cooked meal with you felt like a cherished moment, a testament to the bond that had grown between you.

And as the evening unfolded, wrapped in the warmth of good food and even better company, Gojo Satoru knew one thing for certain—he was incredibly lucky to have found not just a senpai, but someone who had captured his heart in ways he never expected.

Valentine's Day, 2008, he thought. 

This is when it all started for him and you.

History can only get better with time.

2011

YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. A year had passed since you married Satoru, and each day felt like a precious gift wrapped in tender moments and quiet smiles. It was something you never imagined for yourself, when you lived in Zenin manor. You never saw a future beyond what you were forced to have then. But here you are, with him, free and content. And it meant the world to you.

He never asked for much from you, always mindful not to overwhelm you with his larger-than-life presence. From the moment he slipped the ring onto your finger, he made it his mission to take care of you, to save you in ways big and small.

Satoru was a good husband—attentive, kind, and always putting your needs first. In the mornings, he would tiptoe around the apartment, making sure not to wake you as he prepared breakfast.

You often woke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sight of a beautifully set table, complete with a little note from Satoru that read, "Good morning, wife. Have a great day!"

He found joy in the smallest things, like holding your hand during walks in the park or surprising you with your favorite flowers just because he felt like it. He had an uncanny ability to make you laugh, whether through his goofy antics or his playful teasing. And every night, without fail, he would wrap his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings as you drifted off to sleep.

Satoru's love was a constant, steady presence, like a warm blanket on a cold night. He was always there, ready to catch you when you stumbled, to listen when you needed to talk, and to simply be there when words weren't necessary. His blue eyes, usually so sharp and intense, softened whenever he looked at you, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

Despite his strength and the immense responsibilities he carried as a sorcerer, Satoru never let it overshadow the gentle, caring man he was with you. He made you feel safe, cherished, and above all, loved. In these walls that build your home, you never once felt out of place. You just instantly felt it. You felt like you belonged here. You felt like you had a place in this world, a purpose to live — because of him.

You don’t know if you were in love with him or if you feel like a wife should feel for one’s husband. But you knew you cared deeply for him. You knew that you wanted only the best for him.

And you want to be able to give it to him. You wanted to do everything in your power to see him smile, to protect his smile. You wanted to make Gojo Satoru feel like he has somewhere he can feel warmth in his humanity.

As your first Valentine's day approached, you found yourself wanting to show him just how much he meant to you. You wanted to thank him for all the ways he cared for you, for the endless patience and unwavering support he offered to you. So in that morning, you woke up early, determined to see him off on his mission. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the curtains.

Satoru was already getting ready, moving quietly around the bedroom. His movements were graceful, almost silent, as he slipped into his uniform. He glanced at you with surprise when he saw you awake, propped up on one elbow, watching him with sleepy eyes.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "You should go back to bed."

You shook your head, blushing slightly as you held out a carefully packed lunch bag. The pink bento box was wrapped neatly in a patterned cloth, a small handwritten note peeking out from underneath. Satoru’s vibrant blue stared at what you were holding, blinking – as though he could not believe what you were holding. 

He knows what it is, it's clear to see. It’s like then, in those high–school dramas, where the woman would make the person she cared deeply for a bento, with those cute character designs. Silently, he hoped that it was a digimon–chara bento. He hoped it was Metalgreymon or maybe Skullgreymon. 

"I wanted to see you off…." you said softly, your cheeks tinged with pink. “Is that….is that not what you want?”

“N–no, that’s not it.” He responds almost immediately, rubbing the back of his head. He looked shy by what you said, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “It’s just… I didn’t expect you’d be up this early, least of all for me. And doing this bento for me…”

“I–I wanted to!” You tell him, the blush on your face extending to your ears. “I… I don’t know how long you’ll be gone, but I… I wanted to show my appreciation… It’s Valentine's Day, you see…”

Satoru's eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and gratitude as he looked at the lunch bag from your hands. His long fingers brushed against yours, sending a warm shiver up your spine.

"You made this for me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the delicate moment.

You nodded, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. I wanted to make sure you had something good to eat. You work so hard, Satoru. You deserve it."

Satoru’s eyes softened as he took in your words, his heart swelling with affection. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks.

“You’re too good to me, y’know?” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his own in a tender gaze. “You work so hard, Satoru. And all at once, you do well in taking care of me too… I just want to make sure you’re taken care of, even when you’re out there.”

He pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. “You take care of me in ways I can’t even begin to explain. I should be the one thanking you, darling,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining with a love so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You flatter me.”

“It’s not just empty flattery… it’s from the heart, y’know?”

“I do know.” You smiled gently at him.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, darling.” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And when I do, we'll celebrate properly.”

Your heart swelled with tenderness that you’ve never felt before. And yet all at once, that unescapable touch of sadness at the thought of his departure. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful face. That tender face, that laughing face. Gojo Satoru was the wonder of your world. In his existence, in his every breath, his every touch, his every grin — you couldn’t help but feel like life was anything else but worth living.

You leaned up and kissed his cheek softly, pouring all your emotions into that single gesture. You didn’t know what compelled you to do that. But at that moment, it felt appropriate.

It felt like something that you wanted to give him. It was at that moment, an earned gift. After all he had done for you, it was a thankful gentleness. You tried to be as tender as the wind when it brushed against his own cheek.

Satoru froze, stunned at what just happened. He looked at you, unmoving. In that moment, self-awareness brushed through you, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I–I’m sorry," you stammered, stepping back slightly. "I didn’t mean to—"

He cut you off by pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. "Don’t apologize," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "That was... perfect."

You felt his warmth envelop you, and you relaxed into his hold, your heart racing. "I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me," you admitted softly, your voice barely audible.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You have no idea how much that means to me, darling." he said, his gaze intense and filled with affection. "You always know how to make me feel special."

Your blush deepened, but you smiled up at him, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. "You deserve it, Satoru. You deserve all the love and appreciation in the world."

“So do you.” He says, his face scarlet as he smiles at you. “You always will, darling.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Satoru.” you whispered against his ear. “Be safe for me, hm?”

Satoru maneuvered his face, his forehead resting against yours. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, okay?” he said, his voice full of tender affection. “I’ll be counting down the moments until I’m back in your arms.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’ll be waiting for you. Like I always am.”

With one last lingering look, Your husband took the bento from your arms and smiled. You returned it just as brightly. He turned to leave, but he stopped. Your husband lets himself glance back at you with a look that speaks volumes. No one else would have him like this. Only you. He would never let anyone else have this moment. 

As he walked out the door, you could only think about looking forward to seeing him come home. Looking forward to having him in your arms, to enjoy a meal together, to laugh together. 

You returned to your shared bedroom and smiled as you saw the lilac paper laying on the lamp table. You take the paper in hand and clutched it close to your heart. You take a moment before you read the words again. 

"Think of me while I’m gone.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself once more.

You had some things to think over this weekend.

2015

HE COULDN'T DESCRIBE HIS LOVE FOR YOU. It has only been two months since you gave Gojo Satoru the best gift in the world: your little boy, Gojo Satoshi. The cute little boy who looked ever so beautiful, identical to his father, was his beloved, as much as you. And he could not get enough of him. The love that filled his heart seemed to expand with every smile, every coo, and every moment spent with his precious family.

The days had been tiring, filled with the demands of taking care of a newborn, the other children, and maintaining the household while Satoru was away on missions. Despite the exhaustion, you cherished every moment with your family. There was a quiet joy in the simple, everyday moments – the soft giggles of Satoshi, the curious questions from Megumi, and the boundless energy of Tsumiki.

Satoru, on the other hand, felt a profound sense of gratitude and responsibility. Nothing, he thought, would ever be enough to truly repay your love, affection, and the sacrifices you made for him. He was determined to be the best husband and father he could be, to ensure that you felt cherished and supported.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you found yourself sitting in the nursery, gently rocking Satoshi in your arms. His tiny fingers clutched at your shirt, his eyes heavy with sleep. You hummed a lullaby softly, feeling a profound sense of peace despite the weariness tugging at your bones.

The door creaked open, and Satoru stepped in, his presence immediately bringing a warmth to the room. He had returned from yet another mission, looking both relieved and concerned. His eyes softened as they landed on you and Satoshi.

"How are my favorite people doing?" he asked quietly, moving to sit beside you.

"Better now that you're home," you replied, offering him a tired but genuine smile.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You look exhausted, darling. Have you been getting any rest?"

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. "It's been a bit chaotic, but it's worth it."

Satoru leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You do so much for us. I wish I could be here more to help."

"You’re here now, and that’s what matters, my love." you said softly, your heart swelling with love for the man who always put his family first.

Suddenly, Satoshi stirred in your arms, letting out a small cry. You started to get up, but Satoru placed a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got him, don’t get up." he said, taking the baby from your arms with practiced ease.

“You sure? You’re tired too, my love.”

"One hundred percent. Now, go back to sleep." he whispered, his voice tender and soothing. "I'll take care of him."

You nodded, too tired to protest, and watched as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. His touch was warm and reassuring. It always was something so wondrous, when he touches you.

He was ever so gentle, but firm to express its reality. Each and every touch, it was that repetitive, silent promise that he would always be there for you. And you were so happy, so lucky — to have that. You closed your eyes slowly, smiling against the sheets. 

Satoru left the room quietly, making his way to Satoshi's room. He sat down on the rocking chair and tenderly took him to be cradled in the bounty of loving arms. He started humming little tunes that Satoshi had loved. Recently, he loved the melody of Hey Jude.

Satoru loved playing that song on your record player. But he thinks that there was no need for the record player. The smile creeping through your son’s lips was enough to tell Satoru that there was no need. His father’s humming was better.

As he rocked Satoshi back to sleep, Satoru’s thoughts were filled with a profound sense of purpose and love. He wanted to be a good father, a good husband. He wanted to create a world where you and the children felt loved and safe.

Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, the baby’s delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of the nursery lamp. The tiny rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his fingers occasionally twitches in his sleep—it all filled Satoru with a deep, unwavering resolve.

“I’ll do everything I can to protect you, little dawn.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “To protect all of you, your papa will do anything and everything.”

His mind wandered to the future, to the life he wanted to build for his family. He envisioned laughter filling the rooms of your home, the sound of Satoshi’s giggles blending with the playful banter of Megumi and Tsumiki. He imagined quiet, peaceful moments where he could simply hold you close, knowing that you were safe and content.

“My little dawn, you were such a gift. You always will be.” Satoru smiles tenderly. “You will always be the proof of mama and papa’s love. And we’ll love you forever. Big sister ‘miki' and big brother ‘gumi will all love you a lot too, hm? Always know that, little dawn.”

In that moment, as Satoshi's cries turned to soft murmurs and then silence, Satoru felt a deep sense of contentment. He looked back towards the bedroom where you slept.

Satoru knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you never had to carry the weight of the world alone. Satoru looked down at his son, who was now gazing up at him with wide, curious eyes. He couldn't help but smile as he gently rocked Satoshi in his arms.

"What should I do to thank your mom for being everything in my life?" he asked softly, his voice Filled with affection, Satoru gazed down at Satoshi, cradling his tiny body against his chest. “It’s going to be Valentine’s Day soon, little dawn. What do you think Papa should do for Mama?”

Satoshi let out a cute, nonsensical babble, his tiny hands reaching up towards Satoru's face. His fingers brushed against Satoru’s cheek, and he responded with a soft chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead.

"You’re right," Satoru said, as if Satoshi had given the most profound advice. "I should take care of her just like she takes care of us."

Satoshi gurgled in response, his big eyes sparkling with curiosity and innocence. Satoru’s heart swelled with love for his little boy and for you, the woman who had given him such a precious gift. Satoru wonders what he had done to be this happy. To have such wonder in his life, to be able to love and live. He sighed in contentment. 

Gently swaying with Satoshi in his arms, Satoru began to plan a special Valentine’s Day. He thought about all the little things you loved—flowers, quiet moments of affection, and simple gestures that spoke volumes. He wanted to create a day that would remind you of how cherished you were, not just as his partner, but as the heart of their family.

Later, as he tucked Satoshi back into his crib, he whispered, “We’ll make it a day she’ll never forget, won’t we, little dawn?”

Once Satoshi fell back asleep, Satoru carefully placed him back in his crib. With quiet determination, he set about cleaning the house and doing the laundry. He wanted you to wake up to a peaceful, tidy home, a small gesture to show his appreciation for all you did.

As the morning light filtered through the windows, he moved to the kitchen and started breakfast for Megumi and Tsumiki, who were already beginning to stir. The smell of pancakes and eggs soon filled the air, and he could hear the kids shuffling down the hallway.

Megumi entered the kitchen first, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. "Morning, Gojo-sensei," he mumbled sleepily.

Satoru chuckled, flipping a pancake with practiced ease. "Morning, Megumi. Did you sleep well?"

Megumi nodded, glancing over at the table set with plates and utensils. "Yeah. This looks good."

Tsumiki followed closely, her face lighting up at the sight of breakfast. "Wow, Satoru-san, this looks amazing!" She hopped up onto a chair, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Good morning, ‘miki!" Satoru greeted warmly, a smile brightening his face as Tsumiki bounded into the kitchen. "I thought we'd have a nice family breakfast today."

Tsumiki's eyes widened with delight, her cheeks flushed with happiness. "Ah, that’s so lovely, Satoru-san! Thank you so much for your hard work!" She hopped up onto a chair, her excitement palpable.

Megumi, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, glanced at his plate and then at Satoru. "Thank you….I guess." he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled.

Satoru chuckled, pouring some syrup over his pancakes. "You're welcome, Megumi. Now go on. Eat!" He gestured with a playful nudge, encouraging them both to tuck into the breakfast he had prepared.

As they ate, Satoru glanced between them with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "So, what do you two have planned for Valentine's Day?" he asked, genuinely curious about their intentions for the day dedicated to love and affection.

Megumi blushed slightly, looking down at his plate. "I... I wrote a card for Gen-san," he admitted shyly. “And….maybe…”

Satoru raised a brow. “Maybe what?”

“....a hug.”

“A hug?” Satoru starts to grin. “Well, you know that bear hugs are encouraged. I really think it would be a fantastic Valentine’s day gift!”

Tsumiki beamed, "Me too! I worked really hard on my card too. And the paper flowers that I made! I can't wait for Gen–san to see it!"

Satoru's heart swelled with pride. "Gen is going to love them, both of you. You know how much Gen appreciates the things you do."

As he finished breakfast with the kids, Satoru felt a swell of pride and love for his family. Sitting around the table together, sharing smiles and conversation, filled him with a deep sense of fulfillment.

Megumi and Tsumiki were growing up so fast, each with their own quirks and personalities, yet united in their affection for you, the person they saw as their mother. They made him proud every day, not just with their accomplishments, but with the way they cared for and appreciated you.

Watching them interact, seeing how they expressed their love for you in their own unique ways, warmed Satoru's heart. Megumi's quiet thoughtfulness and Tsumiki's bubbly enthusiasm were reflections of the love and happiness you nurtured in their lives. It was a joy to witness how they cherished you, and he couldn't help but feel blessed to have such a loving family.

They were his world, and he was determined to make sure they knew it every single day. The love and warmth in their home were palpable, a testament to the bond they shared.

Satoru knew, without a doubt, that this was what mattered most—being together, supporting each other, and creating moments of happiness and love. It was all you deserved, and that realization made Satoru's heart swell with gratitude and affection for the family he cherished beyond measure.

You woke up to the sun streaming brightly through the windows, a gentle warmth filling the room. Surprised by how rested you felt, you stretched leisurely in bed before deciding to start your day. As you made your way through your home, a sense of calm settled over you, a stark contrast to the usual morning rush.

Entering the kitchen, you were met with a heartwarming scene that made your heart swell with love. Satoru stood at the sink, a baby strap securely fastened around him, gently swaying to a soft melody as he sang to Satoshi. The little bundle of joy in his arms giggled happily, tiny hands reaching out to playfully grab at Satoru's nose. It was a sight that melted away any lingering stress or fatigue from the day before.

Satoru glanced over his shoulder as he noticed you, a warm smile spreading across his face. He carefully set aside the dish he had been cleaning and moved to greet you, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Good morning," he whispered softly, his voice filled with the tenderness reserved for moments like these.

You couldn't help but smile back, your heart swelling with love for the man who always managed to surprise you with his thoughtfulness. "Good morning," you replied, your voice laced with a mixture of awe and gratitude. "You've already done so much."

"I wanted to make sure you woke up to a peaceful morning," Satoru said, his gaze never leaving yours. "And now that you're here, we can enjoy it together."

You moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was steady and comforting, a reminder of the love that bound your family together.

"Thank you, ’toru." you murmured softly, your words carrying the weight of all the love and appreciation you felt.

Satoru pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his embrace tightening ever so slightly. "I love you, darling." he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.

"I love you too, my love." you replied, your heart overflowing with happiness as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, grateful for the peaceful moments that made life so beautiful. “So much. You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "I want to. You deserve to have a break and enjoy today, darling. You deserve it."

You leaned in and kissed him again, feeling a rush of warmth and love. "I don't deserve you. You’re so good to me, my love." you murmured against his lips.

Satoru chuckled, his arms wrapping around you. "It's me who doesn't deserve you, darling." he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

"Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, your heart beating for him just as strongly as it did on the day you first fell in love.

You wish that all the years would be like this too.

You wish that you could just be this happy everyday.

And you know, Satoru wishes the same thing too.

2018

YOU COULD ONLY SIGH. It had been two months since Suguru's passing, and the grief weighed heavily on Satoru's shoulders. The loss of his friend and colleague, coupled with the memories of the events that led to Suguru's death, haunted him deeply. In an attempt to cope, Satoru abandoned his iconic Ryomen Sukuna bandages, which once symbolized his strength and resolve. Now, they served as a painful reminder of the sacrifices and difficult choices he had made.

Instead, he turned to light-sensitive dark glasses, a practical solution that shielded his sensitive eyes from the harshness of light. You observed him with a mix of compassion and concern, knowing how much he had endured. The headaches that came with his new eyewear only added to his burden, and you were determined to find ways to alleviate his discomfort.

Each day, you saw him struggle, his once vibrant energy tempered by moments of pain and fatigue. It pained you deeply to witness his suffering, knowing there was little you could do to ease the emotional weight he carried. Yet, your presence and unwavering support offered him a steady anchor in turbulent times.

One day, you decided to visit Shoko with Satoshi in tow. The atmosphere in Shoko's office was calming, the shelves lined with medical journals and the faint scent of antiseptic in the air. Satoshi, ever curious and energetic, was happily occupied with the marbles Shoko had graciously given him, rolling them around on the floor with childlike delight.

While Satoshi played, you took a moment to discuss Satoru's condition with Shoko. Sitting across from her, you felt a wave of relief knowing you could confide in someone who understood the complexities of sorcerer life and its toll on those like Satoru. Shoko, with her gentle demeanor and sharp intellect, listened attentively as you described Satoru's struggles since Suguru's passing.

"He's been finding it difficult to wear the Ryomen bandages," you explained softly, glancing over at Satoshi, who was absorbed in arranging the marbles into a pattern. "They remind him too much of what he had to do. So, he's been using the light-sensitive dark glasses instead."

Shoko nodded understandingly, her expression thoughtful. "It's not uncommon for Satoru’s six–eyes to develop sensitivities after intense situations, missions.” she mused, her brown eyes flickering with concern. "The emotional and physical strain can manifest in various ways. And right now, it’s truly emotional. I think you just have to be patient with him.”

You sighed, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you shared your worries with Shoko. "I know….but it hurts to see him suffer like this, Sho. The headaches have been growing more frequent." you admitted, your voice tinged with concern. "I'm worried about how much it's affecting him."

Shoko offered a reassuring smile."I know. But right now, you can give him some space. He’ll come around to it and realize that he needs to give himself something to stop the headaches.”

You pondered for a moment, your lips pursed in contemplation. "Do you think... there's some material that could help with his Six Eyes? Something that might alleviate the strain?" you asked Shoko, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Shoko considered your question thoughtfully, her expression thoughtful as she leaned back in her chair. "It's possible," she began slowly, her gaze thoughtful. "We could explore materials that are less abrasive on his sensory abilities. Perhaps something with a softer weave or a special enchantment that filters out excessive stimuli."

Encouraged by Shoko's supportive words, you felt a renewed sense of determination. Her acknowledgment of your care for Satoru reassured you that your efforts were worthwhile.

"Thank you, Shoko," you said sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude for her understanding and encouragement. "I'll do my best to make something that will really help him."

Shoko nodded with a reassuring smile. "Take your time, and don't hesitate to reach out if you need any assistance. I'm here to help in any way I can."

With a grateful nod, you bid farewell to Shoko and headed home, your mind already racing with ideas and plans. As you walked, Satoshi's cheerful babbling filled the air, a constant source of joy and motivation. You smiled warmly, his innocent excitement lifting your spirits even higher.

Suddenly, Satoshi stopped and pointed excitedly to a shop window. "Mama, here!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm as he tugged at your hand. You chuckled at his excitement, bending down to his level to see what had caught his attention.

You peered into the shop window and saw a display of colorful fabrics and various sewing supplies. Some of the fabrics were vibrant and eye-catching, while others were soft and gentle to the touch. Satoshi's small hand pointed to a bright blue fabric with tiny stars scattered across it, his excitement palpable.

"Good eye, Satoshi!" you praised him, ruffling his hair affectionately. "That's a beautiful fabric."

He grinned up at you, his excitement undiminished. "Papa will like it!"

"Yes, I think he will." you agreed with a smile, feeling a surge of determination to create something special for Satoru using the fabric Satoshi had chosen. “Good job, Satoshi!”

He grinned. “Satoshi–kun, the best!”

You looked at your son, his excitement contagious, and smiled. "You're so smart," you said, giving him a gentle pat on the head.

Flash forward to Valentine's Day. Satoru had made it a tradition to take the day off so that the two of you could celebrate together, and this year was no exception. As you stirred awake in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, you found Satoru in the kitchen, quietly preparing breakfast. His light-sensitive dark glasses were perched on his nose, a testament to the ongoing struggle with his heightened senses.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pancakes and strawberries, filling the air with a comforting warmth. Satoru turned to greet you with a soft smile as you entered the kitchen, his eyes tender as they met yours. Despite the exhaustion and challenges you both faced, his love and dedication never faltered.

"Good morning, darling," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I thought we could start the day with a special breakfast."

You couldn't help but smile back, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Satoru," you replied, your voice filled with love and gratitude. "It smells amazing."

As you sat down together at the table, the morning sun bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a warm hue over the cozy kitchen. The soft sounds of birds chirping outside added to the tranquil atmosphere, contrasting with the usual hustle and bustle of the day.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the tantalizing scent of pancakes filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop for your conversation. Everything about today was going to be good. You just know it. It always was, when you're with Satoru.

As you sipped your coffee, the warmth spreading through you, you began discussing your plans for Valentine's Day. Satoru listened attentively, his dark glasses reflecting the soft light from the window as he nodded in response to your suggestion.

"I was thinking," you started, setting your mug down gently on the table, "we should go to the zoo with Satoshi and Megumi, and then visit Tsumiki in the hospital."

Satoru considered your proposal, his expression thoughtful yet warm. "That sounds doable," he agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And then dinner together later?"

You nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, dinner together sounds perfect," you replied softly. "It'll be a wonderful day."

He grinned warmly at your remark about the plan for the day. The anticipation of spending time together as a family and celebrating the occasion filled the room with an air of excitement and joy.

"That sounds like a grand plan," Satoru said with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling behind his dark glasses.

You returned his grin, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart. "Speaking of something grand," you began, your voice filled with affection, "I also have a gift for you."

His curiosity piqued, Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "You didn't have to get me anything," he insisted gently.

"I wanted to," you replied softly, handing him a neatly wrapped box. "Open it."

Carefully, Satoru unwrapped the gift, his fingers moving deliberately over the wrapping paper. As he lifted the lid of the box, his eyes widened in genuine surprise and admiration. Inside lay an exquisitely crafted eye blindfold, made with intricate care and attention to detail.

"Satoru, I sewed it!" you explained, a hint of nervousness in your voice. "But Satoshi helped pick out the fabric, and Megumi tested it out. It's been blessed at the Mikoto Shrine by me. It's a family affair!"

He was speechless for a moment, his gaze fixed on the blindfold in his hands. The craftsmanship and thoughtfulness behind the gift touched him deeply. Slowly, he looked up at you, his cerulean eyes softening with deep emotion.

"You made this?" he asked, his voice filled with awe and gratitude.

You nodded, a shy smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him. "I wanted you to have something special," you admitted softly, your heart fluttering with warmth at his reaction.

"Besides, I know it's hard to use the bandages now. And I just... I want you to have something that drives away the pain and helps you with your headaches."

Satoru set the blindfold down gently, his expression softening as he pulled you into a tender embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely. He doesn't want to ever let you go. Not in his entire life.

"Thank you, darling." he murmured against your hair, his voice filled with heartfelt gratitude. "You always know how to make me feel special."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours. "You don’t have to thank me." you whispered, your voice tinged with emotion. "I love you. More than anything."

"I love you too, darling." Satoru replied softly, his words a gentle caress against your ear. His embrace tightened, as if he never wanted to let you go. “Always.”

You leaned into his embrace, your heart swelling with love for the man who meant everything to you. "Happy Valentine's Day, Satoru." you whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

His embrace tightened briefly, a silent reassurance of his love and gratitude. "Happy Valentine's Day, my darling." he replied softly, his voice tinged with affection. "I love you more than words can express."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your home and the love that filled the air, you knew that this Valentine's Day would be one to remember—a day where your love for each other blossomed even brighter.

You looked forward to next year’s Valentine’s day.

You wanted to have the same joy and happiness.

You prayed that you and Satoru would have that.

epilogue

The day at the zoo was perfect. You, Satoru, and Satoshi wandered through the exhibits, enjoying the beautiful weather and the excitement in Satoshi's eyes as he marveled at the animals. Satoru wore the blindfold you had made for him, and you couldn't help but think how good he looked in it. The fabric was soft and stylish, and it seemed to suit him perfectly.

As you approached the ocean exhibit, you spotted Megumi making his way towards you. He had stayed at the dorms for his lessons but had managed to follow and catch up with you. You waved at him enthusiastically.

"Megumi!" you called out, hurrying over to him.

Megumi smiled shyly and allowed you to hug him. Then he bent down to scoop up Satoshi, who squealed with delight at the sight of his older brother. "Nii-chan!"

When Megumi finally set Satoshi down, he looked up and saw Satoru standing there with open arms, a playful grin on his face. "Megumi-yannnn, aren't you going to give me a hug too?"

Megumi's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he tried to hide in his oversized uniform. He started laughing, his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "Huh!? Megumi, what's so funny?" Satoru asked, pretending to be offended.

Megumi shook his head, still chuckling, as he took a step back. "Nothing, nothing," he said, trying to stifle his laughter.

Satoru pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine, be that way," he said, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

You watched the exchange with a warm smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Your family, despite all the challenges and hardships, had found moments of joy and connection. And in those moments, you knew that everything was going to be okay. As long as you were together, it always will be.

[slightlytoastedbagel]

The fucking. Xylem and Phloem.

Fuck man. My first written exam is tomorrow

[cantdrawbutimhere]

After reading a post I had a question, was bored, and then I wasted hours of my life.

said question: what every coach's % in Ao3 tagging is out of the 365 fics. here's the answer that no one asked for:

Jack rose: 210 (57%)

Wanderlust: 198 ( 54%)

Brezziana: 135 ( 36%)

Mihaily: 137 ( 37%)

Sara: 127 ( 34%)

Night Swan: 126 (34%)

The Traveler: 72 ( 19%)

Mr Overload: 1 (0.2%)

Si’Ha Nova: 64 (17%)

Disco: 32 ( 8.7%)

Rubika: 3 ( 0.8%)

Giulia:2 ( 0.5%)

Panda: 19 (5.2%)

Alano: 5 (1.3%)

Lilith: 7 (1.9%)

Ari: 12 (3.2%)

Grace: 12 (3.2%)

Rasputin: 6 (1.6%)

Phoenix: 6 (1.6)

Freyja: 3 (0.82%)

Clementine: 4 (1%)

Mr. Saxobeat: 7 (1.9%)

California girls: 2 (0.5%)

Liza Friday: 19 (5.2%)

Hit the lights: 1 (0.2%)

Disturbia: 1(0.2%)

Alzena:3 (0.8%)

The sweet escape (beta): 1(0.2%)

Icona Shard: 8 (2.1%)

Skarlet gold:8 (2.1%)

Scotty <3: 10 (2.7%)

Starships: 2 (0.5%)

Topaz: 1 (0.2%)

Ruby:1 (0.2%)

Onyx:1(0.2%)

Boss witch: 11 (3.0%)

Vester:13 (3.5%)

Louise Dallas: 5 (1.3%)

Countless Butterfly: 4 (1%)

Cygnus: 35 (9.5%)

April:3 (0.8%)

Devlin: 4 (1%)

Gabriela:4 (1%)

Layl:4 (1%)

Temperature P2: 4 (1%)

Liv: 18  (4.9%)

Blake: 19 (5.2%)

Gray: 5 (1.3%)

Haze: 6 (1.6%)

Joy-ce: 4 (1%)

T-Bam<3my son: 4 (1%)

Felicia: 9  (2.4%)

Ruban: 4 (1%)

Polo: 5 (1.3%)

Unai: 2 (0.5%)

Agent D: 2 (0.5%)

Captain Catastrophe: 2 (0.5%)

Mothigan: 11 (3%)

Oshii: 1(0.2%)

Pokerface(all): 1 (0.2%)

Rich Girl: 1(0.2%)

Evachase: 2 (0.5%)

Cameron: 1 (0.2%)

Sailor: 2 (0.5%) 

Valentine: 1 (0.2%)

I like it P3: 3 (0.8%)

Sweet Sensation: 3 (0.8%)

Lauren: 1 (0.2%)

Tyler: 2 (0.5%)

Rudolf: 1(0.2%)

Pandafan: 5 (1.3%)

Deerstan: 4 (1%)

Lucero:1 (0.2%)

Mariol:1(0.2%)

DJ Lama:1(0.2%)

Small town boy:1(0.2%)

Cat:2 (0.5%)

I feel it coming: 1 (0.2%)

Lights: 1 (0.2%)

Don't Start me now:2 (0.5%)

Levitating extreme(the guard):  2 (0.5%)

Etria: 2 (0.5%)

Rosearia:2 (0.5%)

Phone Girl: 4 (1%)

Hair Man: 8 (2.1%)

Pool man:4 (1%)

Luke Cyther: 16 (4.3%)

Fuchsia Blue:1 (0.2%)

Can't hold us: 1(0.2%)

Michiya:1(0.2%)

Captain Crimson:1(0.2%)

Plum:1(0.2%)

Forgotten Queen:1(0.2%)

Moxie:1(0.2%)

Joshua: 1(0.2%)

Mayble: 3 (0.8%)

Keenen:1 (0.2%)

Brooke:1 (0.2%)

Isaac:1 (0.2%)

Doran:1 (0.2%)

Diego:1 (0.2%)

Rock N' roll Will get you up the mountain: 5 (1.3%)

Hadley: 4 (1%)

Banagrange (both): 2 (0.5%)

Till I find you: 1 (0.2%)

Migul:1 (0.2%)

Arleen: 3 (0.8%)

Im an Albatraoz: 2 (0.5%) 

A little Party Killed nobody: 1 (0.2%)

Bang bang:1 (0.2%)

Ann. G Lina:11 (3.0%)

Venus coach:1 (0.2%)

Selios: 5 (1.3%)

Triton: 3 (0.8%)

Lets save the planet: 3 (0.8%)

Stop, drop, roll: 2 (0.5%)

Happy: 1 (0.2%)

Kill this love: 1 (0.2%)

Adameve:1(0.2%)

Baby one more time: (1:1=(0.2%)) (2:2=(0.5%)) (3:1(0.2%)) (4:1(0.2%))

Rave in the grave: 1 (0.2%)

Crystal: 6 (1.6%)

Pulse: 4 (5?) (1%, 1.3%?)

Dolores:ew 6 (1.6%)

Love again: 1 (0.2%)

Chaves: 4 (1%)

Estrella: 6 (1.6%)

Juan: 4 (1%)

Kimby Bill: 4 (1%)

Russil Bill: 4 (1%)

Teddy Bill: 10 (2.7%)

The Bride: 11 (3%)

 Calypso: 2 (0.5%)

Talia Sway: 13 (3.5%)

Shadow rider: 3 (0.8%)

Epsilon: 7 (1.9%)

Lacrosma: 1 (0.2%)

Alec: 1 (0.2%)

All the stars: 1 (0.2%))

Sacrifice C2:6 (1.6%) 

Girlfriend (both): 1(0.2%)

Bonnie: 1(0.2%)

Clyde:1(0.2%)

Jopping P1: 2 (0.5%)

Jopping P2: 3 (0.8%)

Jopping P3:2 (0.5%)

Aureain:2 (0.5%)

Dark Horse:1 (0.2%)

I kissed a girl:2 (0.5%)

Rare:1 (0.2%)

Beedabop:5 (1.3%)

Kaa’riki 1 (0.2%)

Masi’el: 1 (0.2%)

Body moving: 3 (0.8%)

did I miss some? I bet. my sanity ran out.

if you for some reason read all of this, why? But have a great day/night!

[gh-0-stcup]

Random list of things that bug me with portrayals of the Fanged Four in many fics:

Drusilla looking down on Spike/him not being "enough of a demon" for her.

Drusilla was thrilled with how Spike turned out. Seriously, look at their flashback scenes again - she adored him from the moment she set eyes on William. There are few moments of disapproval. When those happen she just looks at him with confusion and lets him get on with whatever he's doing.

Darla being (just) a materialistic ice queen. Super cold, barely any emotion outside of when there's torture or jewels involved.

Despite being very scornful of humans and sentiment, Darla was incredibly passionate and expressive. She was one of the most vibrant members of their family. This gal loved life. She could be very cold, but she was also often filled with emotion - she expressed joy, rage, sadness, even nurturing on occasion.

Darla blindly following along with Angelus or entirely letting him run the show. Often portrayed as her being too stupid/vapid to lead.

Darla was Angelus' sire. She taught him how to be who he was. She guided him along until he was able to stand on his own two feet. She was opinionated and had no problem leaving or killing him if he stepped out of line. Hell, she'd betray him just to add a bit of excitement to their lives.

The thing is, Angelus and Darla were partners. It may sometimes seem like one was letting the other have control, but their desires were almost always in sync. There didn't need to be a leader between the two of them because they were largely on the same page. That's why their relationship lasted as long as it did. I think this is one of the biggest things that gets neglected in fanfic.

Darla being less of a sadist than Angelus.

Darla was every bit as hungry as Angelus was. She egged him on, he came up with increasingly horrible forms of torture to entertain them both. It's not an accident that Valentine's Day was a very special holiday for Angelus.

Darla and Angelus being nothing but abusers to Drusilla and Spike.

There was friction between all members of the family at times. All were also shown to have some fondness for each other. Darla and Drusilla ended up being very close, as were Spike and Angelus.

Angelus (and sometimes Darla) despising everything about humanity and caring about nothing but hunting.

Angelus canonically had a good amount of appreciation for the finer things humans had created. He disliked how the Order of Aurelius lived apart from humanity in sewers, only going up to feed. He lured Darla away from the Master by promising her a better way of life, one where she could actually live.

Angelus cried at the ballet. He loved art, music, and having a good time. The two traveled the world. He's fluent in at least 10 languages, implying he had an interest in being able to communicate with people. Angelus and Darla were the OG party couple, committed to living their lives to the fullest.

Spike being disgusted by violence or having a genuine conscience pre-chip.

This shouldn't even need to be elaborated on imo. Sure, he was less into sadism than the others. But the idea that he had a shred of moral outrage over anything the other 3 did is ridiculous to me. This is the guy who gleefully hired a pedophile to torture Angelus.

Imo differences in his killing style isn't about morals or having more humanity, it's about what interests him. Like how some humans are super into football and others are like, "Ew, why? Sounds boring af."

Spike not enjoying Dru getting rough in the bedroom.

He is canonically a masochist.

[emchant3d]

part two of Eddie forgetting about Valentine's day 🥰 part one here

The entire weekend is weird. Steve keeps giving him these looks like he’s waiting for him to do something, or say something, or pull something out from somewhere, but every time Eddie tries to hedge into a conversation about it, the damnedest thing happens.

Steve gets embarrassed.

His eyes flit in that flustered way of his, his cheeks go red, and he avoids Eddie’s gaze. And he’s used to seeing Steve a little worked up, sure, that’s nothing new, but the little bit of shame that dips into the expression each time about kills him.

So maybe it’s not the best choice, but he stops asking. He lets Steve deflect it. Keeps telling himself that Steve will talk about it when he’s ready, that if he just keeps being patient, he’ll get his answers.

By the time Sunday evening rolls around, Steve’s stopped looking like he’s waiting for some kind of sign to drop from the sky, so Eddie feels a little better about letting it go. Steve had spent some time with Robin that afternoon anyways, so it’s entirely possible the Wonder Twins worked out whatever it was Steve was stressing about anyway.

And that’s another odd thing - Eddie and Robin are pretty close. Not as close as Robin and Steve, obviously. No one could ever touch that relationship or be as important to Steve as Robin is. That’s a place in Steve’s life that Eddie will humbly step aside for, but like. Eddie and Robin are chill. They’ve bonded about being little baby queers in bumfuck Indiana, there’s a connection there, but she’d given him a look so full of disgust that afternoon that it had thrown Eddie for a loop. He has no idea what that’s about.

But Steve had seemed more settled. Centered, even, and while the quiet joy he’s used to seeing in his baby hasn’t fully returned, he doesn’t seem as silently devastated when he thinks Eddie isn’t looking. 

It’s something, and he’ll take what he can get.

By the time Tuesday rolls around, he thinks maybe they can just move past whatever weirdness had consumed them the last few days. He’s already making plans for the weekend - maybe he’ll take Steve up to Indy and go back to the bar they’d visited in the fall that Steve had loved. He’d gotten hit on by what seemed like every man in the building, but his boy loves attention and more than deserves it, so Eddie can suffer through watching it - especially when it means he gets to pull him close under all those wandering eyes.

These thoughts get him through the day. A couple of people called out, and he wonders briefly why it seems so extra busy at the store, why they’re so short-staffed, but he shrugs it off - he won’t pretend to know the ins and outs of the Hawkins music scene. 

By the time he gets home, he’s exhausted. He debates just crashing, but no - he’s behind on planning, and if he doesn’t get his notes cleared up tonight, he’ll put it off until he has no time to get them down in a way that’s coherent. He’ll still pull a kickass storyline out, obviously, but it’ll lack that certain je ne sais quoi that makes it an Eddie Munson Hellfire Special. 

So he heats up some food and scarfs it down while standing in the kitchen, wishing he were with Steve because his baby’s in a cooking mood lately and whatever he would make would blow this can of Chef Boyardee right outta the damn water. But he’ll see him soon, he’s sure, and he lets his vague plans for Steve carry him to his bedroom where he tosses himself into a chair.

He snags his latest notebook and flips to an empty page, snatching up a pen and tapping it rapidly on the desk. He runs through the last session in his head, reminding himself where they’re all at.

Mike was holding his own in battle while Jeff was trying to revive Dustin, Lucas was making a convincing argument about using Gareth’s goblin character as a projectile, and Eddie’s mulling over how to make that sound badass and not just fucking ridiculous as he writes the date in the top right corner of the page. He taps the tip of the pen to the first line on the sheet, ready to start scrawling in his chicken scratch, when he stops. Frowns.

Looks at the date again.

Squints at it.

Because surely - no. 

Oh, fuck. Oh Jesus H. Christ holy fucking shit, no.

But it glares back at him in its righteous fury, bold and bright against the page in his own messy handwriting, the ink deep red and accusing.

February 14.

It’s fucking Valentine’s day.

“FUCK.”

Panic squeezes his chest and his heart drops out of his ass as he scrambles to his feet, tangling in the legs of the chair and almost going sprawling over the carpet. He rights himself, barely, snagging his jacket off the bed and shrugging it on.

No fucking wonder Steve had looked so disappointed, so hurt. Eddie forgot his baby’s favorite holiday of the fucking year.

And it’s not that he forgot, he thinks desperately. That’s not what happened. He has plans. He has a song he’s been working on and a florist he was planning on calling and chocolates he was going to buy - dark, because that’s Steve’s favorite, and with cherries, because Steve fucking loves cherries and Eddie knows this because he’s a good fucking boyfriend. He knows when Valentine’s Day is. It’s not like it fucking moves. He knew it was coming, knew February was creeping along at a steady pace, knew the fourteenth was approaching. 

It just didn’t click, is all. Dates don’t fall in line for him like they do for a lot of people. He struggles to remember schedules, always has, due dates and important days and holidays, those are no exception, though Eddie desperately wishes they were.

He pats his pocket, hears the jingle of his keys and tears out of the house and throws himself into his van. 

God, no wonder Robin was looking at him like he was a monster. He is. He made Steve sad, and if there’s anything Robin Buckley will never allow or forgive, it’s someone hurting Steve. Fuck, he’s going to have to grovel to her so fucking hard.

Not that that’s his priority. Might not even be something he needs to worry about if Steve doesn’t forgive him for being the dumbest person on the fucking planet. No, he has to get to Steve’s house, has to apologize, has to explain. Has to make it up to him.

one more part!! still working on it 💕

edit: part 3!

people that asked to be tagged: @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zerokrox-blog @m-owo-n

[scummy-writes]

Is anyone else quietly checking to see if they've unintentionally followed someone happy about this e/ection? Fandom communities make it difficult to see this stuff like you do IRL: everyone is (understandably) talking more about their interests. Blogs are typically just a reprieve from IRL. But every four years, it's a reminder that just because you have been having fun conversations about your favorite characters, it doesn't mean the person you're talking to shares your same beliefs.

I got mocked previously on a different app for asking someone who they felt about trans people and similar, because they liked xyz game - "no one who likes xyz game is transphobic!!" - and I'm over here thinking of all the transphobes I ran into vehemently enjoying the game and all of its messages flying over their head.

Otome games are no different. Sometimes, it feels like its blatantly worse. People are more vocal about being anti lgbt+. "This suitor/suitor ship is fine but i personally find it disgusting because men are kissing.", "why cant the suitors just stay straight in the fandom, why do people HAVE to make it gay?", "this fanfic is fine and all, but i personally want to kill the mc for 'sleeping around' with these men- oh but im totally okay with poly, I just dont want to *see* it, its disgusting to me :)". I think a lot about the my*me fandom, how they got the actor for jum*n to say he wasn't gay for a valentines message.

And then people want to spread messages of "you shouldn't let politics get in the way of friendship!" On here. The audacity of that, to be honest. The absolute privilege shown with such a statement. I'm so glad you choose to subtly insult me, jan, for having my ocs not be straight. For finding joys in discussing the *idea* of a *fictional character* being trans or not straight. I'm so glad you don't have a working brain to just leave me alone, jan, instead of commenting directly on my shit and berating me for not fitting into YOUR standards.

"Fandom is a place to escape from irl!" But we're 'escaping' from different things. My life is stressful because of issues with money and work, fandom is fun for me when im not thinking about that. You're running from being called a transphobic homophobe and looking for reprieve in online communities filled with gay people. We're not the fucking same. You're trying to escape from a part of me I can't change, and you want me to put that aside and pretend just so we can talk about fictional dick? Suck my dick.

[comicalfont]

Undertale is for Everyone

Happy Valentine's Day! Yesterday marked five years since the day I first started playing Undertale. It's led me to dwell on what exactly I would say the game has meant to me, with how loaded a question that is. There's so much I owe to Undertale, and the joy it's brought me is something everyone is as deserving to be a part of. Despite some recent fandom events, all members of the fandom need to know that the game celebrates and welcomes them with open arms, which I'll get to more in a bit.

I first played Undertale at a period in my life with a lot of unanswered questions, both for present me and future me. I'd managed to not give it a try in the first few years it was around, but after running into enough Deltarune fan content in the wild when it came out, I played Chapter 1 and loved every bit of the atmosphere and characters, and I wanted to play Undertale right after. After accidentally killing Toriel and starting over, I was immediately drawn into the story it told and the friendships I was making. My appreciation of Sans was there from the start, and here I am, many reader fics with him later, and the rest of the main gang felt like buds I'd been hoping to meet some day. Even the minor characters meant so much to the journey, and by the time it was done and I'd seen what Frisk/the player's kindness and want for peace can do, I was completely hooked and the game rented a free condo in my brain.

What I wasn't expecting was the other ways Undertale's touched my life. I'm trans, and before I'd played, it had only really been associated with discomfort and a wish for things to be better, without much of a light at the end of the tunnel to look at. Undertale's queer-friendly themes and the characters' insistence on being themselves opened me up to thinking about a future where my own kindness and, well, determination can lead me to being the true me. While my trans story was far from done, it helped me see the future as something I can smile about, rather than needing to be afraid. The fics that I've written about Undertale, and especially the bone-friend, since I played have also led me to meet the people I consider my closest friends, as well as being a gateway to other fandoms that have captured my interest. These connections I've made through the game are ones I'll carry with me for the rest of my life.

So, where am I going with all this? Undertale has invited me into a better path than the one I'd been taking, and that's an opportunity I'll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, there are some in the fandom space who have shared hateful views about people simply for who they are, and everyone should know how far those views are from the truth. Undertale is a game about love and growth, and it is the responsibility of those who participate in its community to follow its footsteps and celebrate everyone for their traits; not just tolerate, but celebrate. For fellow trans people in particular, I've been thinking about this the most; you are real men, real women, and real non-binary identities, and all of those things are represented in Undertale itself. Celebrating trans lives isn't just the right thing to do, it's a part of this wonderful game we're all enjoying together.

Maybe this reaches just two people, or twenty, or more if I'm lucky, but whoever does read this far, thank you for taking the time to see how much Undertale has meant to me over these five years, and I hope you know how much you mean to the community. We're all making it a better place by being ourselves, and I hope the game keeps lifting people up for many years to come. Now, go read that new volume of the Undertale/Deltarune Newsletter!