#my friend gifted me this little glass so it makes it tolerable

[chocochat]

my lunch looked very cute (*´꒳`*)

[verinarin]

Drunken mind, sober thoughts

fluff | slightly suggestive | Rafayel’s low tolerance towards alcohol has left you in a little bit of a problem, his drunken mind spoke his truest thoughts

a/n this is my first time writing for Rafayel to combat my writer’s block ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡, but don’t worry Veritas Ratio lovers I would come bearing gift in the near future, NOT PROOFREAD !

The night’s at its prime and so does Rafayel, he lavishes himself in fruitless conversation amongst people with different ulterior motives, his lips curves into a mischievous smile as his lips touched the rim of his liquor filled glass

As a result of his carelessness in indulging alcohol as well as his low tolerance, a hue of crimson painted his face. The colour contrasts beautifully with his pale skin, leaving both men and women mesmerised whilst talking towards him

This however does not bode with you, Thomas knew that Rafayel would mindlessly quench his thirst with alcohol that’s why he specifically made a curfew for Rafayel and well the night must come to an end for the charismatic painter

With a sigh leaving your body you leaned down towards his neck, “Rafayel, you have an important interview tomorrow. You need to go home okay ?,” you whisper softly, not wanting to upset the visibly drunk man

With a huff he swiftly finished his glass, he flash an apologetic smile towards his ‘friends’, he quickly stood up from his seat and bid the crowd farewell, you could feel multiple pair of eyes glaring at you silently cursing you from taking Rafayel away from them

“Miss bodyguard, I’m still bored. How do you plan to fix that hmm ?” Rafayel pouts as he try to steady his steps, you let out a small groan before intertwining your fingers with his, letting his weight slightly rest on your body for support, “You can’t even walk straight,”

“Ah that’s true !, but once we’re at the hotel room we could still play something don’t you think ?” he looks down towards you with that trademarked smiles of his

“You need to sleep Rafayel,” you huff as you tap the room’s key onto the censor, you carefully lead Rafayel towards the bed, but with him being stubborn you could only manage to seat him on the couch

“Rafayel you’re flushed red right now, it would be better to sleep now to minimise your hangover in the morning,” you kneel before the man, the soft yellow glow of the moon illuminates his skin, his lips curves into a pout as he defies your order

“Can’t sleep, don’t want to,” he huffs as he fold his arms and look away, you can’t help but to chuckle seeing the man before you acting like a child, “Alright let’s make a deal then,”

“I’m listening,” he turns his head back towards you, your hand reach forward to gently caress his cheek, the skin burns warmly against your nerves, “I would give you a reward you can redeem now, whatever it is you want I’ll give it to you in exchange of you sleeping afterwards,”

“Deal, I want you to sleep beside me, hold me close and keep me safe during the night,” he replies without much thought, it’s like he already has this request at the back of his mind waiting for a chance to come to fruition

It took you a couple of seconds to weigh in the pros and cons, well his request is pretty effective in keeping tabs on him so you simply nodded and with that somehow the man before you gain a foothold of sobriety for just a second to drag his own body towards the bed, “I’m stuffy in this shirt, can you change my clothes please ?,”

In a normal day you would probably hit his head for requesting that but in light of his current predicament and the fact that you’re too tired to argue you simply rummage through his baggage and bring back a pyjama set for him to wear

“Here you go, now I want to change too so I expect you to finish changing once I’m done,” you set the clothes beside him before taking your own fresh clothes and change into a more comfortable clothes, once you exit the bathroom you could only see Rafayel waiting for you like a loss puppy

“Why aren’t you in your pyjamas yet ?,” you sigh before setting down your dirty clothes and walk towards him, “I can’t reach my leg, can’t wear pants,” hearing that you ascertain that this man is dumber than usual becomes there’s no connection between his leg and dragging his pants down

“Well I guess you’re sleeping in that outfit then,” you shrug as you walk away from him, but he prevented you by grasping your wrist, “Please change my clothes for me, I don’t like feeling sticky,” he whines and of course whatever he wants he’ll get

You steel yourself as you kneel down before him and start to slowly unbutton his shirt, you could see his chest heaving up and down as you carefully undress him, “Y’know I feel like your mom, because this is not in my job description,”

“It would be,” Rafayel replies calmly, shutting down your small chuckles. “What do you mean by that ?,” you ask as you drag the shirt off his shoulders

“Well in the future you’ll be my lover so this would also be a reoccurring task,” he smirks as he took his shirt off and bringing the pyjama shirt on to your hand, your merely laugh at his drunken mind not knowing that it’s his sincerest wish

“Yeah yeah I’m sure it’ll be delightful to have you as a boyfriend,” you tease as you button up his shirt, now this part is tricky, his pants. “Can’t you undress your pants by yourself?,”

“What are you shy ?,” he chuckles as he leans down and hold eye contact towards you, “It’s inappropriate for me y’know,” you roll your eyes, hoping that he would not sense your embarrassment

“Why would it be inappropriate ?, you would see what’s underneath it when the time comes,” he winks and with that you quickly stood up, he whines and apologises. He quickly change his pants by himself why you stare at the wall waiting for him and at the same time trying to calm your breath

And with that you’re now laying on the bed with Rafayel resting his head against your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist like a vice, “So soft and warm,” he mumbles, you can’t help but to find it hard to maintain your composure when there’s a thin line that Rafayel is crossing,

“You didn’t mean what you say, you’ll forget it in the morning,” you huff as you pet his hair, you could feel his displeasure at your sentiment since he nuzzled his face deeper into your chest, not wanting to look at you, “I won’t forget it and even if I do, everything that comes off my mouth is sincere and true,” he mumbles

“Drunken mind is often filled with sober thoughts,”

[creepyclothdoll]

I set Angel Free

All of this is gonna sound pretty mean but let me preface this by saying that this girl, Angel, thought she was God’s gift. And I mean that in the most literal sense. Like she’d literally introduce herself by saying, 

“My name is Angel, because I’m a gift from Heaven.”

She’d say it with this smile that was so fake and sickly-sweet you could taste your teeth rotting just looking at it. All her mannerisms were stolen from disney movies, like how she’d talk in this high-pitched little girl voice that she thought made her seem so cute. Like, yeah, yeah, you’re supposed to be nice to people like that, but it was so hard to tolerate her. 

So we messed with her. It wasn’t because she was in a wheelchair, I wanna make that clear. I don’t have a problem with people in wheelchairs. Just Angel. You’d feel the same way if you knew her. Honestly everyone did. 

She literally didn’t know where babies came from. Like one time my friends were joking about having Nick Jonas’s babies and Angel was like “how would you make the baby his?” And we had to literally explain to her where babies come from and ask where she thought they came from. She said, and I quote,

“When a mommy makes a very special wish, and gives it a special kiss and sends it to God, God cuts a piece of Heaven in the shape of a baby and wraps it in the wish and sends it back to the mommy, to grow up and be loved and kept safe on the earth forever.”

This was, by far, the stupidest thing I ever heard in my entire life. So of course I responded by telling her her mommy was lying to her, most likely because she was a whore. 

This made everyone at lunch laugh really hard because her mom, Ms CJ, was the school’s frumpiest old cat lady, and she literally had those 80’s coke-bottle glasses like that guy from Trailer Park Boys and the idea of her getting sexed up for dollar bills was enough to make you piss yourself laughing. 

Angel started crying and doing that annoying pouting thing. Frankly I doubt she even knew what a whore was, just that it was bad. I think she wanted to storm off, but it’s not like she could go very far. Which I pointed out as well, to uproarious laughter. 

Okay again, I don’t have an issue with people in wheelchairs. It was just really easy to mess with her. But this was the incident that, for some reason, made everyone think of me as the Designated Angel Watchman. Like, any time Angel did anything weird and cringey, everyone would look at me like they were Jim from the Office and I was the camera. And then if I didn’t say something funny about it, they’d get all disappointed. But when I did say something funny, it became the new Angel Thing Of The Week that everyone would be saying in the halls between classes, and I’d feel like a genius. Did it go too far sometimes? Sure. But that’s not my fault. All Angel ever had to do was act like a normal person for once and it all would have stopped. 

Angel was homeschooled her whole life until seventh grade, which is probably why she was so weird. 

I wanna be clear– she wasn’t like, mentally disabled or anything like that. That would make me look pretty bad. She was just weird. She was always singing by herself– pop songs, disney princess songs, sometimes songs in japanese from anime. She was convinced she had the best voice in the class, and flaunted it all the time like she thought we were gonna be impressed. She wore these huge ugly cat sweaters with glitter and frills every single day. 

And any time we watched a movie in class, she’d laugh this awful snickering long laugh at ANY joke and then bawl her goddamn eyes out if there was even a little bit of a sad part. It was so annoying!

She refused to do anything outside her comfort zone– no scary stories, no new foods, no games she’d never played before. She turned her nose up at anything unfamiliar.

So let me be clear: Angel deserved most of what we did to her. 

But she didn’t deserve what I did that last day.

Before I met Angel, I thought Ms CJ was okay. After, though, I realized she was batshit. She only let Angel come to our school for seventh grade because she knew she’d be Angel’s homeroom teacher and that she’d be able to flit in and coddle her throughout the day. Ms CJ was Angel’s constant guardian, which should be humiliating for anyone who has shame, but Angel loved the attention. She’d beg Ms CJ to stay with her longer every time she popped in during class. And that sucked, because I couldn’t say shit about anything cringe Angel did when Ms CJ was around, so I missed a lot of really good opportunities to mess with her. 

Ms CJ always sat with her daughter at lunch, which was honestly bad parenting because there was no way Angel would ever be able to make any friends like that. Ms CJ never let Angel join the rest of us for recess. Or for field trips. Once during a group project in French class, as a joke, I invited Angel to a made-up party in the woods. Angel replied by saying,

“I can’t go if it’s in the woods, silly! My mommy doesn’t let me outside!”

She said this like it was the most normal thing in the world for her, so I asked some clarifying questions. She explained, in her girly sing-song voice, that she’s not ever allowed to be outside for more than a few seconds at a time, and only when her mommy is there to hold her hand. 

“My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost,” she said.

“It’s not like you can run away,” I joked.

“I can run,” Angel replied, pouting. “Look.” She kicked her legs slightly. I heard the clack of chains. 

That was the first time I ever noticed that Angel was shackled around her ankles. 

“I run all the time at home,” Angel bragged. “I run alllll over, over all the rooms. I wish I could run here too, but it’s too dangerous. The windows,” she added, like that would clarify it. I was baffled. So she didn’t even need the wheelchair.

“Um, why are you chained? Are you like, under house arrest or something?” I asked.

“No. My mommy just doesn’t want me to get lost. She’s the only one with the key.”

“Your mommy sounds like a psycho. You should call the cops,” I replied.

The French teacher overheard her crying and she got me sent to the principal’s office again. But I swear this time I wasn’t being smart or anything, I was genuinely freaked out for her. I told my friends, who all agreed with me that it was weird. But I guess I hadn’t been the first one to notice the chains. The others who had assumed it was because Angel was like, prone to fits or something. That made sense for Angel, but it still made me feel weird and didn’t sit right.

My mommy doesn’t want me to get lost.

I started to feel sorry for her. She was still weird and annoying, but she was weird and annoying because her mom was out of her mind and wouldn’t let her be a normal kid. How was she supposed to learn to be normal if she couldn’t even go outside, for god’s sake? 

I still messed with Angel when she did weird stuff like quote anime characters in class and bring stuffed animals to school. But if it was ever just her and me, I was nice to her and asked her stuff about her life. 

Her favorite movie was The Little Mermaid. No, she had never been to summer camp. Her favorite time of the week was church. She disliked onions and wanted to be a vegetarian except that her mom was very insistent about her getting enough protein in her diet. She loved those Warrior cat books and wanted to be a veterinarian someday. She didn’t have a dad. Ms CJ took the shackles off her ankles only once they were inside their house and all the doors and windows were closed and locked. That was also when Ms CJ took the locked metal bar off of her chair so she could get up. The bar went over her waist and prevented her from standing. She wore those big ugly cat sweaters every day so we wouldn’t see it. Her mom didn’t want people to know about her special condition, which, as far as I could tell, was all made-up. Any time I asked about her “condition,” she’d just say some stuff about being a very special heaven baby or whatever.

“Do you ever think about running away?” I asked finally. “Why don’t you just… leave?”

She looked shocked.

“Of course not!” she said. “I love my mommy. Where would I even go?” She shuddered visibly. 

The shudder pissed me off. I blew up at her and called her a whiny scaredy baby until she cried, and I got sent to the principal again. 

 She didn’t even want to be normal. That’s what pissed me off the most. 

It was springtime, and the snow was finally mostly gone. I’d been in Mr Bevends’ science class before, so I knew what to expect that day– first real nice day of spring was always a “class outside” day. We’d go out and look at moss and leaf buds and stuff and he’d talk about natural changes during the season. It was all a big excuse for us to get outside– no one liked it more than Mr Bevends himself. He was so excited to announce we were taking class outside, he didn’t even notice Angel’s face go stark white as he led the rest of the class out the doors.

“I– I can’t–” she stuttered, but I interrupted her.

“It’s the most beautiful day in months,” I said. “It’s a perfect day. You’ll love it.”

“I’m not allowed,” she whispered, embarrassed. 

“You wanna be a baby forever?” I said. “Come on. You’ve never broken a single rule in your life. Live a little.”

After a long moment, Angel nodded. She followed me out the back doors of the school, onto the sidewalk. I walked next to her for awhile. She looked scared, but also fascinated by the dripping icicles from the roof gutter above us, and the ice-blue sky above, and the rows of black trees stretching up into the air. 

“It’s cold,” she said. 

“Yeah, that happens when you’re outside for more than a few seconds.”

“I think… I like the cold.”

We caught up to the rest of the science class, and listened to Mr Bevends talk about leaves and crap. Angel oscilated between this vibrating excitement and a frightened, hunted look, like her mom was gonna show up at any second and punish her for disobeying and doing one normal thing in her life. Angel touched the trees reverently. My friends made fun of her for “fondling the foliage.” I didn’t join in this time. I had bigger things planned.

When we broke off into groups of two, I went with Angel. My friends knew I was up to something great then, so they followed us, chuckling eagerly. I grinned back at them when Angel wasn’t looking.

We were supposed to identify different types of trees in the woods behind the school. I helped push Angel’s chair up the hill– it was insanely heavy. The wheels snagged on the muddy grass, but it didn’t matter. It’s not like she actually needed the thing.

“What are you doing?” Angel asked with rising terror as I leaned over her and produced the key. 

Everyone knew Mr Bevends always had class outside the first nice day of spring. It was really easy to slip the key from Ms CJ’s lanyard when she always left it out on her desk during homeroom. It was the one with little white wings on the chain. 

“I’m setting you free,” I said. I unlocked the shackles around her feet first, then the bar around her waist. She screamed at me to stop the entire time, but I knew I was doing the right thing. Someone had to teach her to be independent. Someone had to throw her out of her comfort zone. 

And that’s what I did. I set Angel free.

Angel rose from the chair. 

And rose. And rose.

Her shoes went over her head. She kicked her legs wildly as they drifted rapidly upwards. Angel shrieked and tried to grab onto the top of the chair– the handles, even trying to clutch a handful of my hair– desperate to stay anchored to the ground. But it was too late. She was already six feet in the air. 

Then twelve. 

Then thirty.

I couldn’t do anything other than watch on in shock as Angel shot up into the sky like a helium balloon. She twisted and clawed at the open air. 

It happened in seconds. One second, we were watching Angel make frantic grabbing motions at the ground, howling with terror, and the next second all we could see of her was the glint of the sunlight on her glittery pink cat sweater as she disappeared up into the vast emptiness above.

When Mr Bevends came to see what was the matter, all any of us could do was to point up. But by then, she was just a pinprick against the deep, endless blue sky. 

Then there was nothing.

[wildemaven]

don’t drink the punch | dave york

-> pairing: dave york x f!reader

-> word count: 3382

-> content warning: 18+ blog; insecurities, jealousy, holiday party antics, mentions of food and alcohol, office gossip, smut (unprotected p in v, fingering, orgasms), there’s no mention of it but reader is on BC, Dave is divorced from Carol, Soft and Sweet Dave, let’s say this is AU and no murdering is happening (or that at least reader is not aware of), reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress with heels and lingerie, otherwise zero descriptive features for reader, I think that’s everything but let me know if I missed anything

-> notes: more soft Dave because he’s been rotting my brain and making me weak lately. This could be the same universe as Caught Kissing Santa, but also can be read as a stand alone piece too.

-> masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

“I would enjoy these holiday parties a little more if the drinks being served had some actual bite to them. Then I wouldn’t have to give another forced Thank You to my Secret Santa for another gift I’m just going to re-gift to an unsuspecting family member. Did I mention how much I hate these parties?” Cathy shares among the small group of you and a few others, tucked in the corner of this year's CIA Holiday Party. 

You laugh into your fluted glass of sparkling apple juice. Mainly because she’s right. These parties tend to be a little boring, as do most office holiday parties. Lacking any sort of decorum that would indicate there’s an actual party taking place. The lobby has far more holiday cheer than this conference room at the moment. 

Red streamers taped to the wall above the food table and green plastic table runners haphazardly draped over random surfaces help add some festive color to the drab atmosphere. But the tiny plastic tree with misshapen branches bent in different directions placed in the middle of the long table in the center of the room, really ties everything together. Due to budget cuts, there wasn’t much of an allowance for new decorations, according to Cathy. Thankfully, you had convinced Dave to keep leftovers decorations from last year’s party in the supply closet

Once gifts were exchanged, the party felt like it was dragging on longer than it should. Your feeting aching in the too high heels you always decide on, snacking on nearly stale bread and cold artichoke dip, most of the other items already picked over. You patiently wait for the moment everyone else decides it’s time to call it a night and meet up at a local bar to continue the celebration, all while you make your way home to enjoy the rest of the evening with order in pizza and comfy clothes. 

The majority of the party you spend talking with a few friends to pass the time. Catching up on random office gossip, the latest romance rumors that have all departments engrossed in every detail and any other dramatic news that you haven’t heard about. All topics are enough to keep you entertained for the time being. 

“Maybe if York wasn’t so tightly wound and put some actual effort into these things, they would be easier to enjoy.” Sheryl adds to the conversation. “Between us, I might have brought a small flask of vodka to add to the fruit punch— should make things a little more interesting.”

“I’m sure his hands are tied, so you can’t really fault him for not allowing the hard stuff. Plus, are you even allowed to drink on site?” You decide to give your opinion. While you do see where they’re coming from, you can’t really hold it against Dave for not wanting to deal with everyone liquored up. And you’re more than certain there’s a zero tolerance policy for alcohol anywhere in the building, clearly Dave is just following the rules. You’re more than fine enjoying several glasses of the fizzy juice, noting to steer clear of the punch bowl. 

“By the way— did you see the new tie York got? I’m shocked she made him put it on as soon as he opened it— a little awkward to do in front of everyone. I will say, it looks good though, doesn’t it?” Cathy points to where Dave and one of his much younger Agents are still talking on the other side of the room. 

You watch as he holds up the ends of the tie, as if they’re both discussing the color and material of it. He must have said something funny, because she’s laughing now. You no one notices the way you subtly roll your eyes when her hand reaches out to him, holding the side of his forearm as she talks. She must be telling him how hard it was to shop for him, but she just knew he’d love the tie. And how she spent hours searching for the right color— it's black.

She’s cute, whatever her name is. One of the newer recruits you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. She looks to be in her mid to late twenties. A young, confident woman whom you’re definitely not jealous of with all the attention Dave is giving her right now. She’s a good 10 years younger than you if you had to guess. She’s attractive too. Dave seems somewhat oblivious to her slightly flirtatious behavior. Being the nice guy that he is and giving her his undivided attention— makes sense. 

“Don’t you think it looks good?” You realize you’re being asked a question about said tie he’s wearing. 

“Yeah. It looks really good on him.” That’s a lie. It does look good, but you kind of hate that she gave it to him, given how flirty she's being towards him. It’s not anything you would have ever picked for a Secret Santa gift, especially for Dave. The premise of the gift exchange was supposed to be fun, silly gifts. She should have opted for a coffee mug that says, Tears of my Employees, but that’s just your opinion. “Such a great color, too.” That part is the truth, it is a great color on him. 

“Speaking of looking good— that dress on you is killer!” Sheryl shifts the compliments in your direction, catching you off guard and has you feeling slightly embarrassed at the attention. 

“Oh! This? It’s just something I picked up earlier this week. I feel a little overdressed though.” You say all demure like, looking down at the way the black material drapes over your body. The dress feels a bit much compared to everyone else’s business suit attire. The high cut of the slit and the low straight neckline with straps holding it onto your body have you sticking out more than you would like. 

“I’m sure Dave has told you plenty how beautiful you look in it.” Sheryl says confidently. 

“Umm—  no he hasn’t mentioned it. I haven’t had the chance to talk to him much today, actually.” You say meekly, looking back over in the direction of where Dave is. 

When you go to sneak a glance at him, he’s already looking at you, not caring what the cute younger Agent is saying in that moment. His attention fully focused on you. He gives you a wink, raising his half-empty glass— cheers to you from across the room. You mirror the gesture back to him, pairing it with a genuine smile now painted on your face. He turns his attention back to the younger cute Agent, both of them now joined by a pair of Agents from analytics. 

“Well, the night is still young. I’m sure he’ll be giving you all the praise soon enough.” Cathy says, pouring some red punch into her glass.

“Sure.” You smile politely at Cathy and Sheryl. “Umm, if you’ll both excuse me. I need to go use the ladies room.” Deciding you need a minute to yourself. Ditching your glass at the end of the long conference table, you make your way out of the room down the hall. Seeking out a few minutes of quiet to let your mind clear before heading back into the lackluster party. You catch Dave’s profile as you walk by the glass wall of the conference room, paying no mind to anyone outside the little holiday bubble he’s in. 

The echoing of your heels clicking against the tiled floor is the only sound you hear as the bathroom door shuts behind you. You debate whether or not you should give your feet a break from being stuck  in such a high arched position for so long, deciding against it at the thought of walking nearly barefoot in a bathroom. Placing your purse on the porcelain countertop, you take in your reflection in the mirror. Adjusting the straps on your shoulders, then sliding your hands down the front of your body. Admiring and reminding yourself how good you do look in this dress, it’s the main reason you decide to wear it tonight. 

You’re not even sure why you were doubting yourself to begin with. You groan out loud into the unoccupied space for how you were comparing yourself to another woman— a woman you don’t even know. She doesn’t deserve that. Sometimes your insecurities creep in, clouding your mind with lies and false narratives you’ve conjured up. You brush it off. Grabbing your purse, you apologize mentally to yourself as you make your way back out into the hallway. As well as to the young woman who had also been on the receiving end of your near downward spiral. You’ll introduce yourself properly when you get back to the room. 

Someone must have found a speaker. A vibrant Christmas song, you can just barely make out, is coming from the conference room. Most likely another one of Sheryl’s attempts to liven up the crowd. You’d given anything to see the look on Dave’s face right now— he has the worst poker face when he’s annoyed. 

You’re halfway back to the party when you get distracted. An open door to an empty office has you intrigued. The plaque next to the door reads Dave York - Deputy Director NCS. Your fingers tracing over the carved out letters engraved on to the gold metal. 

Laughter pours out of the party filled room at the end of the hall. Your fingers pausing over the last letter of Dave’s name. Glancing back over your shoulder, double checking that you are alone. Shadowy figures are still milling about on the other side of the glass wall. The party far more alive than when you left it. The addition of music was just what it needed. 

You decide you’re in no rush to head back. The open door to Dave’s office practically welcoming you in. 

Wall to wall shelves behind Dave’s desk have some sort of lighting that adds a soft ambient glow to the otherwise dark room. The rest of the walls are adorned with college degrees and various certificates, years and years of hard work and dedication.

You toss your purse to the leather chair that is off to the side as you make your way to the large desk. It’s made of some dark slab of wood, the sleek angles and metal hardware gives it an elaborate modern look. The desk is cool to the touch, your fingertips following the grain of the wood, as you take in the details of Dave’s space. 

There’s a gold frame that catches your eye, twinkling under the dim lighting. You grab it from where it sits next to another photo of Dave’s daughters, Molly and Alice. 

You’re instantly drawn to Dave in the photo. The sheer happiness that’s evident in the smile he’s wearing. A smile that he doesn’t wear often at work or for many outside of it. His dark locks brushed off of his face, in a dressed up polished manner. Face cleanly shaven, allowing his dimple to be on full display. There’s also a brightness in his eyes. You admire the way the photographer was able to capture such a beautiful candid moment. 

“That’s my favorite picture” You turn to see Dave standing in the doorway of his office. Suit jacket discarded somewhere. His hands in his pants pockets. Head tilted ever so slightly as he slowly scans up your body until his eyes meet yours. 

“Hmm… You have to say that, it’s your wedding photo.” You say as a matter of fact. Turning back to his desk, you glance at the framed photo one last time. You finger brushing over the portion of the picture where his handsome face is. 

You’re too focused on the happy couple staring back at you, missing the barely audible sound of his shoes drifting over the carpeted floor as he slides up behind you. You nearly gasp at the sensation of his body pressed up against you, butterflies erupting in your stomach. His touch is captivating, evoking a sense of want, desire blooming immediately. 

Your body doesn’t shy away from the way his hands settle on your hips. Welcoming the way his lips move over your skin, a gentle trail of kisses that lead upwards from the round of shoulder to the small space below your ear. Your stomach tightens. Goosebumps erupting all over. 

“It’s our wedding photo.” A gentle squeeze of your hips as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. He plucks the frame from your grip, setting it back in its designated spot on his desk. 

“Are you trying to seduce me in your place of work, Mr. York?” A playful smile forms on your lips as you turn to face him, rucking the skirt of your dress over your hips as you sit on the edge of the desk, the silky material pooling around your waist. 

The insecurities you had been feeling earlier in the night, long gone, forgotten under his intense gaze. Your hands lay flat over his documents and files as you lean back into a more seductive position, careful to not disturb their tidiness. 

“Fuck, Baby. Looks like you’re the one doing the seducing, Mrs. York?” The new black lace panties and garter set you picked up this week on display for him. His hands glide over the black stockings that stop mid-thigh, his fingers slipping under the garter strap, continuing their upward movement, as he steps into the space between your legs. 

“Is it working?” You purr, knowing full well it is based on the grip he has on the apex of your thighs. A small yelp escapes your throat as he slides your lower half closer to the edge so your flush against him— not missing how hard he is under his black slacks. You carefully allow yourself to lay back fully over the desktop. 

Your hands catch the end of his new tie. Pulling at it tautly, bringing him down so he’s maneuvering his body over yours. One hand resting next to your head as the other guides one of your legs over his hip, encouraging you to wrap them around him. 

“I just got all of these papers in order. Hours of reading and organizing. They’re going to be a mess now.” Dave’s voice is honeyed, holding zero malice in his words. 

“I’m sure you can have one of your cute little Agents clean them up for you.” You tease, which only encourages his own seductive movements. Your eyes flutter shut at the way he ruts himself hard against your aching mound. Open mouth kisses delivered across your cleavage.

“Are you jealous, Mrs. York?” You can feel the way his lips perk into a smile on the top of your breast when he asks. 

“I-I was. She’s very pretty. But I know who you’re going home with at the end of the night.” Your fingers card through his soft locks at the base of his neck, your head tilted back as he soft nips at your jaw. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I think Julie finds you more attractive than she does me. She asked several times who the breathtaking woman in the black dress was.” That was a twist you hadn’t expected. 

“Oh! Did you let her down easily?” Dave’s wandering lips are halted by your question. He pulls back, eyes filled with reverence as he looks down at you. The air between you is charged with an unwavering love for each other. His hand gently cups the side of your face, thumb slowly tracing over your bottom lip. 

“I told her how you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. How you make my life better. And that I don’t know what I did to deserve such a beautiful woman like you.” He’s the sweetest man you’ve ever met, a wonderful father to his two girls and an incredible husband—  falling in love with him was one of the easiest things you’ve ever done. 

“Dave—“ Tears prick at your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, let me take you home so I can unwrap you properly.” He tries to lift himself off of you, but you have other plans— more exciting plans. 

Grabbing his face and pulling him back to you, your lips connect with his. Tongues melting into a fiery kiss. No further words needed, as your body does a fine job of conveying exactly what you need from him and you’re grateful he catches on quickly.

His hand slips under the lace material of your panties. Seeking out your pleasure as he alternates between soft deliberate circles over your throbbing clit and working you up with two fingers inside your warm cunt, hitting that delicious spot over and over again, causing you to bite back an explicit moan as you silently tip over the edge. 

Rushed movements blur into the next. Working together to free his hard cock from his boxers and pants. Forgoing the effort it takes to remove your elaborate straps and lace, pulling your underwear to the side is all that’s required before Dave is slowly sinking into you. 

Shared breaths and discreet whimpers fill Dave’s office. Nails biting into exposed skin with each heady thrust Dave delivers. Papers shuffling beneath you as your body tenses, arching into his. Dave senses you’re close, your vise-like grip has him nearing his own release. 

“Dave! —fuckfuckfuck—  Baby, I- I’m going to come!” You're breathless, trying your best to keep your voice low, not wanting to be heard by anyone. 

“I’m right there —shit!— with you, Sweetheart.” 

Your lips connect with Dave’s again as your orgasm surges through you, swallowing each other's moans and triggering Dave to spill inside of you. 

The room is nearly quiet again as Dave’s forehead rests on your chest. His skin is warm against yours.  Your lungs work effectively to help regulate your breathing to a normal state. 

A kiss placed over your heart, then to your lips before he’s slipping out of you. Dave adjusts your underwear back in place as you still lay boneless on his desk, body a tingling mess is bliss. 

“That was a first for us. Surprised it hasn’t happened sooner.” He smiles down at you as he tucks himself back into his boxers, tucking his dress shirt and refastening his slacks. 

“Hmmm— I’m not opposed to it happening more often— make sure to pencil me in.” You hum softly at him. You reach out for his hand to help you off the desk. His hands instantly catching you and your grip onto his shoulders, your legs a little wobbly when your heels hit the ground. 

Your dress adjusted, Dave’s tie situated, compliments exchanged —You look gorgeous in this dress, This tie was a nice choice, she did a great job picking it out— sweat patted down with a tissue— a valiant attempt to look less conspicuous as you both head back to the party hand in hand. 

You both decide to stay a longer, indulge in a little more of the festivities, you suggest ordering some pizza for everyone. Dave agrees and mentions also needing to call Carol at some point to tell the girls goodnight.  

“You think they will notice we were missing?” Dave asks, his arm wrapping your waist and pulling into his side as you both stop at the door to the conference room. The space is still filled with boisterous laughter as music continues to keep the energy flowing. 

“I doubt it. They’re probably too busy discussing how boring your parties are.” You smirk at him. 

“Boring? Who’s saying they’re boring?” His head whips over to you. You can already see him mentally running through names, his signature scowl now visible, looking back at his fellow agents. 

“That’s for me to know and for you to stress about until the next one. I’m going to go introduce myself to Julie. I’ll see you in a bit.” You kiss his cheek and make your way back inside. You take a few steps before stopping and turning back to him, your dress skirt billowing out around your legs. “Dave, don’t drink the punch.”

[captainaikus]

I love your work so much and it has been like 2 hours since i discovered it aghhh ><

(Nsfw) ik you're on hiatus but just a quick idea(thought it was cool sorry TT). Itoshi rin as a butler and the reader as royalty, reader initiates things by teasing rin but rin rejects because of their differneces in class but eventually give in and lets out his inner yandere 🙏 they have sex secretly with rin degrading reader for being such a whore even though shes royality🤦‍♀️ (you can write it in any way you want ill be satisfied anyways) please ignore if you dont like it im not trying to force you to write this 🙏 love you hope everything's fine!

tysm doll 💜 i'm glad you enjoy my works :p

wc : 1.0k, not proofread.

warnings : dark themes, mentions of nudity, rin has a temper, degradation, mentions of sadness, y/n having a break down, fingering, mentions of alcohol and use of poison, intended for murder. based in victorian period.

Rin is the butler of the house and has been your childhood friend. Considers himself to be distinct from you, he makes his bed on mornings, getting into his suit. Over the years it was the same routine, making your bed, telling you your schedule for the day, reminding you to dab the corner of your mouth when you ate something, giving you a glare when you picked up the wrong fork or when you were crass, even telling you to sit up straight when you slouched.

He is a strict disciplinarian, going harsh and hard on you, sometimes even pushing you to the verge of tears yet he was also the shoulder you cried on certain nights, finding solace in his stiff posture, not daring to touch you. He knew the two of you couldn't be in the same world. You were the princess while he was your butler. A gentle hand like yours wouldn't want his scarred one, he would think, staring into his glass of wine on the kitchen counter. little did he know that you liked him and had found adoration for him over the years.

Just when Rin couldn't seem to shake you out of his head, things got worse. Your bed was messy than usual - taking him hours to spread it over. Your behavior became more crass and you became more defiant, shooting back at him.

the last straw was when you demanded that he bathe you, extending a foot towards him, your breasts covered with the milkiness of the soaped water in the large bath, the sunlight reflecting off your skin making you look tempting to man. "Go on. Clean me, Rin." you tempted, waving your foot of at him.

Throwing the sponge on the ground, he had had enough, getting into the water with you, his shirt becoming soaked and transparent. Holding you by the throat, he leans in menacingly towards you. "I can tolerate having to do chores. But what I won't tolerate is you disrespecting me. Try that again and I'll make sure that you are punished. I might be a mere butler, but remember. I know you like the back of my hand and these years of experience have given me enough knowledge about you. The next time you disrespect me, I will make sure to take you over my fucking knee. Are we clear about that princess?"

You don't talk to him for weeks, while he adjusts to you until he was in the courtroom, summoned by your mother the queen. "Make sure that she fits into the finest of gowns you can find and that she attends to the tailor to have her measurements taken." she commanded. "She has to impress her suitors." The dreaded instance. You were in your early twenties, bound to be married. He was upset that night, going to town once the sun went down to drown his sorrows in his glasses of wine for he hated beer. As the week passed by, he noticed instances of your courtship with the prince of a neighboring kingdom whose name and face he did not bother to remember.

It wasn't until one bold night he couldn't hold it in anymore, watching you give him lust and desired filled glances despite the fiancé of your parents choosing giving you attention with lavish gifts. He came to your chambers that night demanding answers.

"You just love pushing my buttons, don't you princess. What kind of a whorish upbringing did you even have to start behaving like this?" he taunted you as he thrust two fingers into your soaking wet cunt. "Do you just love seducing men and then not giving them what they want? Do enjoy torturing me?" He watched as you turned your head from side to side, refusing to meet his eyes. "Can't even see me. Aren't you even the least bit ashamed of yourself?" he prodded further. You refused to answer, your lips sealed.

Getting on top of you, he grinds his knee into your pussy, making you moan, his hands firmly holding yours above your head.

"Tell me princess, do you like driving a man to the verge of insanity ? Making him watch you with your future husband yet letting him fuck you in this bed ? Just how low has your dignity fallen princess? You're not even worth a common whore, in fact you're worse." he sneered, gathering your hands into his wrist whilst the other was holding the flesh of your thigh. "What other choice do I have?! My parents want me to marry someone of royal stature, yet they care less about me. You've seen how ruthless my kin can be, marrying off my sisters to gain more lands. You think I'm happy ?! huh?! Do you ?!" you cry. He felt nothing more than to make your anguish disappear. Words of love were exchanged that night. "I'm here." "I'm not leaving you." The usual gruff and strict disciplinarian of a butler had turned into a lover, giving you words of affirmation with every thrust, moaning into your ear and kissing every part of your body that his lips could reach, losing his sanity over and over again as your drew him into your warm welcoming arms. The thought of you being with someone else being pushed into the back of his mind replaced with how good you were clenching around him while your nails drew lines down his back, his hand swiping at your clit to give you your release. Lying in the same bed with you he kissed your forehead while his hand pet your hair a sign of a short goodbye as he was to leave early the next morning.

He watched as you pretended to be interested in the talks your fiancé was giving, with the occasional smile you gave him along with a playful tap. Looking into the tray of wines, he knew the prince's glass, slipping a poison into it. You would weep perhaps from shock and sadness over the loss of a life. But in the end,

you would always turn to his shoulder for solace just as you had in good old days.

[nocturnal-notes]

I am sick so you get encanto headcanons(some might only make sense in my head)

Dolores

She come off to me as someone who mediates, especially when she feels overwhelmed, stressed, etc.

Loves poetry, probably the type of person who writes letters(many that aren't send to a certain someone *wink* *wink*)

Enjoys writing.

Isabela

Names and talks to her plants as if they're people.

She likes bugs to some extend, not scared of them but doesn't like them anywhere outside her garden.

Used to be close to Dolores, they were literally best friends ever since they were babies but drifted apart:(

Her favorite animal is a praying mantis(and yes she tried to say "cactus" but Antonio said it didn't count bc it isn't an animal).

Julieta

Used to sneak out a lot when she was younger to see Agustin, did a lot of things behind Alma back(things she doesn't until this day mind you)

Cooking is somewhat a stress relief to her but if it's day Julieta is feeling particularly too impatient/or angry she tends to mess up the recipe :(

Was the most responsible one of the triplets, she hated it so much, basically Isabela is going through the things she once went through

A bit of a perfectionist, tends to be harsh with herself.

When she was younger a lot of boys tried to court her but were only interested in her appearance, Agustin was the only one that cared about who she was and not her appearance.

(This one I am not sure but I think she saw so many injuries and wounds that she handles it better than the average person would, like the bone is popping out? She was seen worse things, does care but it doesn't affect her as much)

Camilo

Probably has unbearable when he was like 12-13 due to having a identity crisis, as well as derealization.

He tends to unknowingly mimick other ppl mannerisms, haven't noticed it yet.

Joking is one of his coping mechanisms, sometimes those are self deprecating jokes :(

Him and Mira used to be best friends, drifted away after the gift ceremony,

Agustín

Alma did not like him at first, he had to earn her respect while Felix was accepted right away(dude charisma levels are insane you have to trust me).

Multi-tasker, I feel like he would have a bunch of thing he is average at like...having a bunch of hobbies and being average at it(does that makes sense?? I hope so)

Doesn't like being clumsy, especially when he was a kid because people would make fun of him.

(Modern au) Him and Felix are those Facebook uncle's who post embarrassing baby pics.

(Modern au) His phone is with the brightness turned to maximum, sound is always at the loudest volume, you will be able to hear the videos he is watching when you're in the bedroom and is on the second floor.

He can see without his glasses but not things that are too far.

Only child, he begged his parents for a little sibling (they give him a dog instead)

Agustín: I really wished I had two siblings like you :'(

Julieta: Believe me you don't want it :)

Developed a ungodly pain tolerance over the years.

If Julieta is trying a new recipe he is the first one to prove it(and Mira too, actually she gets most of it with the puppy dog eyes)

Pepa(my ass was scared of including her actually)

Smokes but only when she's very overwhelmed, Abuela doesn't not know about it, Dolores knows(let's be real it's almost impossible to keep a secret from her), Felix obviously, and Mira found out on accident.

[no-see-um-incorrect]

I am babysitting my nephew at the moment SOooOOO. My favorite redacted boys babysitting (i’m so bored plz help)

Guy🍕

This weekend‘s gift is up first 

He gives me older brother’s best friend energy.

He’s the guy(literally) that gives the kid a controller that’s not plugged in, so they feel included.

He comes over and brings a pizza and candy for the kids (and him. be honest)

he’ll make up some ridiculous elaborate game that the kids love.

His silly personality helps when a kid is crying or upset 

He would never volunteer to babysit, but if you ask him, he’ll say yes.

Overall guy is a very trustworthy babysitter 

David🐺

He’s the alpha he’s used to dealing with childish adults, so you’d think children would be a piece of cake.

kids are scared of him, Babies love him, toddlers are his worst enemy.

They know no rules 

They know no weakness 

They smell fear 

Asher and Angel find it hilarious. Because Asher knows how secretly terrified David is of toddlers. Angel just finds it funny. 

Overall, yes, you can trust your alpha with your children BUT  it will take some emotional sacrifice on his part 

Asher🐾 

Asher can handle kids in a controlled environment. Like he can hang out with the children of the pack. but he starts getting awkward after too long. 

“BaAaAbe one of them started crying…. whatdoIdooo!”

“is he hungry?,thirsty? What does it want?!”

 it slowly morphs into chaos as the night progresses 

Overall, Asher definitely isn’t the first choice for a babysitter but as long as he has babe’s assistance, he’s definitely not the last

Milo💥

This man. He would be a good dad. 

He would be a great babysitter, amazing……..He would be a really good dad. Our feisty werewolf Boi loves kids. 

“Give um here ash…hey little buddy~….🎶hmmm🎵HmmM🎶mmmhmmm🎵” *Lullaby continues*

(Ima cry I love him so much)

“OH. I know me and sweetheart’s kid would kick your kids ASS ASH!” (this happened)

Sweetheart didn’t even know he was good with kids until their first solstice together. And seeing him with the pack kids. 

Overall, 100% Milo is the first to go to for a babysitter 

Caelum🍪 & Gavin😈

I’m pairing these two together because it would be a not great idea… to leave caelum unsupervised with a small child. they will either achieve world domination OR caelum will end up having a breakdown because of the roller coaster that is child emotions.

Gavin is there to achieve balance 

Caelum is the entertainer. Gavin is the caretaker. 

“Ok buddy. Can you handle the little one well, I make their bottle?”

“Yup! Yup! You got it Gav!”

*Proceeds to play patty cake for 20 minutes*

Both the little one and caelum end up, falling asleep by the end of the night.

Yes, overall awesome babysitting duo 

Sam

Sam was my first vampire boi I listened to  so when he referred to the newly turned vamps as “newborns”

…….I thought he was a Dilf vampire……

That being said, I think Sam would be really good with kids. He’s very patient very soft and very calm…. and very tolerant. ALSO. Kids are very accident prone. Sam being good at healing will come in handy. 

: take them on car rides to get them to sleep 

: I feel like the little ones would be fascinated by his fangs

: Darlin comes home and he’s just got a baby asleep on his chest 

he’s not the first one you’d think of one, thinking of a babysitter, but he knows what he’s doing 

Forgive me if these are stupid, I am pretty tired and my glasses are. Say it with me 👏STILL BROKEN👏





[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

For Day 5: Sangyao from an outsider POV, especially Nie Mingjue. I'd love it if he's happy for them in some capacity.

Though he would probably never admit it if asked, Nie Mingjue had not expected this.

His little brother tended to fall in love at the drop of a hat, and more often than not, it ended in tears. Usually Huaisang's, whenever the other person decided that they wanted something serious, and also decided he wasn't the kind of person they wanted something serious with.

So when Huaisang's latest hard fall had been for Meng Yao, of all people, Nie Mingjue had braced himself for the worst.

After all, he'd heard so much about Meng Yao from Xichen; how dutiful and straight-laced and well-spoken- well, he'd heard enough to know that this was a disaster in the making.

He'd been completely prepared to tell Meng Yao to at least let his brother down gently when he got fed up with Huaisang's... everything and was ready to find someone to actually settle down with.

And then he'd actually seen them together.

In all the relationships his little brother'd had, Mingjue could see the uneveness of it all immediately. There had always been this glaze of distance in his partner's eyes, like they were only tolerating him as long as he was cute and funny, like a birthday-gift puppy. It had always annoyed the hell out of him, and maybe -just maybe- he'd admit that the hostility he'd often developed towards them as a result didn't exactly help his brother keep them.

But seriously, not once had he ever seen them look at his brother with the open fondness that Meng Yao did, like his company was a relief to have around. It was unusual enough, made him curious enough, that when Huaisang excused himself to go get another drink, Mingjue did his best to not look intimidating when he approached.

Judging by the way Meng Yao stiffened slightly when he noticed him, smile taking on a nervous tinge, he hadn't done the best job, but at least Meng Yao relaxed a little bit when he gave the man a casual salute with his beer to try and lighten the mood.

"I'm not looking to do the scary big brother thing," Mingjue said as he leaned on the back of the couch. "Just wondering what pulled you and my brother into each other's orbit."

"Oh! Well, ah- honestly, it was kind of an accident. He helped me out of a bind when the decorators for one of the company parties backed out at the last minute. We... worked a lot better with each other than I ever would have expected, and just... kind of kept talking after everything was ready. Probably the only time I didn't go to a party already nursing a stress-headache," Meng Yao finished with a little laugh.

Then his gaze darted over to where Huaisang was talking to his friend that was running the drinks table, and-

-there was that softness again. "It was... He was..."

And that was enough for Mingjue. Grinning behind the glass, he finished off his beer, then clapped Meng Yao on the shoulder and went to go annoy his brother.

For the first time, he had a good feeling about this one, and he wanted Huaisang to know.

[alethiometry]

the towel rack fell off my bathroom wall so i replaced it with a decorative shelf i made out of some plywood (leftover from a bigger project), garment hooks that i bought from my local hardware storee, and leftover paint from when i painted my bedroom. it's quite simple, but i'm proud of how it came together!

some planning and process photos below the cut, if anyone is interested.

the art print is from birdstrips and was something i kept from my old apartment after we had moved out, but never got around to properly displaying until now. my snake plant should do okay here as it is pretty hardy and tolerant of low light. the candle was a gift from a friend, and the glass shark / ship-in-a-bottle was handmade by my brother!

i started off by sketching out roughly what i wanted to make. i tried to include as much detail (and measurements!) as possible.

my friend's dad has a hobby woodshop in his garage, and he helped me cut my boards down to size and get everything assembled. i learned how to use a pocket hole jig to strenghten the join between the vertical and horizontal pieces, then glued a square dowel to the shelf to serve as a ledge to prevent stuff from falling off.

once the glue dried, i removed the clamps and garment hooks, sanded everything down, and gave it a base coat of white paint. i used toothpicks to prevent the screw holes for the garment hooks from being painted over, then removed the toothpicks before the paint was fully dry.

after the white paint dried, i taped up a stencil and added the blue paint. i removed the tape before the paint fully dried (to prevent paint chipping), then when everything was dry i went back in and touched up any small spots / leaks with a smaller brush. this is actually a more accurate representation of the shade of blue i used than the top pic lmao but it looks nice regardless.

no photos of the mounting process, because it took about ten years off my life. but eventually i got it on the wall, and most importantly, everything was level and stable. then i painted over the mounting screws to hide them a little better (you can still kinda see them though, but i don't mind), re-hung my towels, and added my decor pieces!

[lostonehero]

Immortal Micheal

William is a sad little meow meow

Henry sighs, walking down the displays. "It was past midnight. They all were awake and skulking their enclosures. They enjoyed the gifts and everything the morning patrons left. Among the items were little dolls, drawings, and old toys. He bowed the best he could to his daughter, who he could hear giggling just out of sight. He knows it's her.

"Now careful everyone inspectors are coming tomorrow that means, no hiding toys in your bodies especially you Lizzie"

Henry chuckles at the "It wasn't me." On the sound speaker

.

He pauses in front of the golden fredbear. "I haven't found the last one yet, Evan. I don't know if Micheal was stuck, too." He sighs as gental static brushes past his ears. "I'll keep looking as much as these old bones allow. Also, stop giving your father little toys. I don't care that he makes you new toys it's dangerous."

Henry stops again, looking back. "Yeah, well, if he made everyone something, then I wouldn't say anything..." He waves but doesn't take the wind up toy he knows William made his son and the tiny ballerina he made Lizze.

He stops and sits on the bench in front of the spring lock animotronic

"Henry."

"William."

"Oh, what do deserve this visit for?" William huffs.

"Inspectors coming again." Henry hums.

"Ah, so I'm staying underground."

"You've learned from last time, have you?"

"My bones are mine, Henry." William sighs. "Is it the odor?"

"No, I'm planning on opening up night attractions. You're getting too comfortable with the children alone, William."

"They still torment me enough."

Henry raises his brow. "You're turning a toy car into a train for the boy in foxy."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." William sneers, pacing his enclosure like a lion.

"Don't throw a tantrum, William. You've adopted these kids just as much as I have." Henry hides his smile as William slams on the glass.

"I am the one who took those kids from their families, and I am the one who stuffed them in the suits. How dare you even insinuate I could care for my trophies, my victims."

"Your speech is less convincing than before William. You're growing soft." Henry laughs again. "By the way, Clara is still around and moved back to London."

"Never understood how you could marry her."

William gives a annoyed look. "It was arranged."

Henry stops and frowns. "Didn't know that."

"I never said it."

Henry sighs. "And you didn't divorce in the States?"

"Kids had to be 18 all of them, probably why we had more than Micheal." William walks back to the center. "Granted, none of them made it to 18, so I'm still in that contract."

"You're dead."

"I think she put a clause in there for that."

"That's disturbing considering you being you."

"Gee thanks Henry "

.....

William stops his pacing, staring at his old friend. “Clara was like that. She didn’t like any of the children, Michael especially. The others she tolerated.”

"She could dress Lizzie up like a doll probably helped in her favor of not being treated like Micheal. Evan was her baby." He tapped on the glass seemingly connecting something in his mind. Henry can see he never did grow out of the mindless tapping habit when he was in deep thought.

“Michael was the annoying one. The mistake." William spits out like it doesn't taste quite right.

"Well, I mean, he wasn't a mistake he was planned..." William frowns or what looks like a frown. "Henry, why did I consider him a mistake he was planned early so we wouldn't have to be married long." He pauses.

A loud slam against the glass pulked henry from mulling those words."Leave, I have to think," William huffs

....

Another night, another conversation

"Clara wasn't a good person." William speaks quietly. "The arrangement was about money."

Henry raises his brow, but let's William continue.

"They wanted to pawn her off, and I was single, and my family needed the money. The asylum would be a black mark on the family." William fidgets with the broken toys. "I know I didn't want that a relationship, and my parents fixed that. I mean we had a good thing us together but I don't know why Clara kept trying to poison me against you. I guess she was the one to suggest to make you hurt like we did.... like I did. Clara just had a broken.... toy..." He doesn't say anything after that.

Henry tries to push, and it only makes William lash out. The conversation died with that.

....

It takes a week. Henry has his laptop on his lap, scrolling through and looking at his nieces and nephews.

"I apologize." A quiet rough voice rouses Henry from his browsing.

Henry looks up, adjusting his glasses. "For what, William?"

"Charlie." He looks defeated. "I turned to the bottle for support then to Clara, and Clara didn't like you having a doll she couldn't have."

Henry swallows.

William continues. "I never understood how she worded things, I thought she was slow, hence the arranged marriage. I realize now that her words were deliberate."

Henry goes to speak before William Continues. "I am guilty of all of these crimes, but I... I just left the bodies."

"William, the dead bodies didn't just get up and move." Henry pauses and swallows. "The kids talk about...."

"A pretty ballerina who said they were going to get help." William growls, slamming his fist against the wall. "I take the blame for the murders." He sounds defeated

.....

Henry and William don't talk for a month after that they just spend time next to each other. Henry can see the kid spirits out of the corner of his eyes. They are getting braver moving from the animotronics. He swore he saw his old friend how he was sitting on the shoulder of springtrap, but he was gone when he blinked. Henry is quiet checking his emails. He gives a small huff and furrows his brows.

"I know that look." William breaks the silence."Of course you do." Henry mutters. "My old eyes are playing tricks on me.""How so?""It says Micheal Afton is applying for the night guard position." Henry frowns. "Same birthday.... these have to be fake creditentals."William presses his face into the glass, unable to see what Henry is looking at, but curiosity has grabbed him. "Micheal? You said he was dead." Quieter. "I lead him to his death."

"William, we talked about that, Micheal was 19 he was old enough to make his own decisions." Henry sighs, clicking through the application. "We should require a photograph with these applications... no, wait, that's illegal."

William laughs softly. Even in the rusted body and rough sound, his laugh is still soft. Henry shook his head, pushing those thoughts out of his mind. He's dead, and you're on deaths door.

"Henry, I was always better at the hiring." William chuckles he was in a surprisingly good mood like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

"I'm fine at this, Willy." He bites his tongue at that old nickname. "William, I can handle this, I'll just accept and lead him here. If he's a fake, then I can spot him."

"What if he's not? Do the interview at night." William places his hand against the glass. "Lizzie and Evan agree."

Henry shakes his head. "Can't labor laws, Will-iam." He bites back the nickname again. He was getting too comfortable, and when did his children start talking to him again. "The museum isn't open at night yet, so it has to be during operation hours."

"Henry..." A plea from William seems out of place when staring at him.

"Out of the question, William." He rubs his temples at the static. "Let me do this myself." He doesn't leave room for an argument as he takes his cane and hobbles out of the museum.

[admiringlove]

hello!! congratulations on 2k followers! thats a big milestone :)

i'd like to send in something for the event!

my name is yves and my favorite haikyuu character is sakusa 💌 i like to draw digitally in my spare time and i love spicy food and sweet snacks. other than drawing, i also like calling with my friends, listening to calming music and designing characters. oh and, if this info is helpful i'm an INTP! :)

thank you for your time and again congratulations on 2k!! you deserve it 🤲

spicy food and late night calls.

hello yves! thank you for the request! i hope this came out as well as you imagined it :)

when the doorbell to your apartment rung, you didn't expect there to be two delivery men from two different stores standing on the other side. they looked just as confused as you. and when you said that you hadn't ordered anything, they said the same thing.

"but the order was placed by sakusa kiyoomi."

you raised an eyebrow, immediately pulling out your phone and texting him.

hey, did you order food and flowers?

his reply comes within milliseconds. as if he was waiting for you to ask that question.

omi: they're for you.

his reply makes you smile, reminding you of how you were early on in your relationship with him. going on dates that had very low budgets because of how broke the two of you were, him buying you small trinkets and telling you the same thing as he did now, "they're for you". you remember the time he gifted you a new digital pen—it had been from his first official salary from being in the msby jackals. he'd said the same thing to you when you'd looked up at him in awe after opening the gift. "it's for you", his voice had been soft, but it echoed through your heart as you wrapped your arms around him and shed tears into his chest, thanking him for simply being there. he'd kissed the top of your head, telling you not to cry as he rubbed your back. from then on, you'd taught kiyoomi how to draw on a tablet. he found it quite irritating at first, having to keep his hand above the screen. but from irritated groans to your background snickers, he'd learned. and now, he preferred to draw parts of you on the screen. whether it be your eyes, the little specks of white and black in them in much detail. or your hands, every vein and bone accentuated.

you let out a small chuckle as you apologize to the two delivery men, taking the bouquet and takeout inside. as you place the packages on the counter, you find the note attached to the flowers.

and then, there's a call incoming from your phone. you know it's him by the ringtone you'd kept for him.

"you're quite the charmer, omi," you grin, "sending me food, flowers and handwritten notes even though you're halfway across the country? how romantic."

"so i don't even get a hello anymore," he retorts, "how unromantic."

"you don't need a hello when all you'll be getting are kisses from me when you get back," you mumble, "but really, how'd you manage to send a note you wrote yourself when you're in okinawa?"

"i went to the florist last night," he says, "wrote the note and told them to deliver it tonight. isn't that thoughtful of me?"

"i think you're getting in over your head," you giggle, pulling out the takeout containers, "also i can smell the spicy stuff. my nose is tingling."

"yeah, i don't miss that at all," you laugh when you hear him say that, reminiscing the time when you first made him eat the noodles from your favorite restaurant. his face had gone red, sweat dripping from his chin to his hair, and he had his tongue out to quench the heat. all you could do then was laugh as he drank glass after glass of iced water.

"you should've told me you have a low spice tolerance," you tell him, opening the container and taking your first bite, "how was i supposed to know you would turn into a tomato?"

"my mouth was on fire," he quips. you can just visualize his narrow eyes and playful frown, "and before you took me there, you should've asked me if i could handle it or not. how was i supposed to know that you would attempt to murder my digestive system?"

you grin, plopping down on your couch as your voice becomes soft, "i miss you already."

"i know," he tells you, "four more days and then i'm back."

"four more days and then i have okinawa's finest sweets coming home to me."

"i knew it," he feigns an offended gasp, "you're using me for food."

"oh no," you say, in a disappointed tone, "you caught me."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[bdbb-writes]

When The Darkness Comes

Pairing: Loki x goddess!reader

Warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, angst, mentions of murder, slight suicidal ideation if you squint really really hard.

Word count: 2.6k (written in the middle of class)

A/N: heyyy sorry i fell off the face of the earth, new fics coming soon!!!!!!

Tag list: @iridescentloki @aliiiyyaaah

Loki Odinson, god of mischief, had been your arch-nemesis since you were just small children playing amongst the fields of Asgard. Despite the closeness of your families you never truly could get along. While he may have been one of magic, you were always known to outwit his trickery. Being the daughter of the goddess Sol, the living embodiment of the sun, had advantages to say the least. Whenever Loki would turn himself into some animal to attempt to scare you the same way he had done to Thor many times, you would cast hot beams of sunlight on whatever form he took, revealing the green aura around it; a dead giveaway to the boy and his prank. As if living in Thor’s shadow wasn’t enough, he couldn’t even outsmart the girl who tried to eat a sunflower whole because, “I want to become one with the sun like my mother”.

As you both got older his tolerance for you grew weaker and weaker, you arguing each and every time you were in each other’s presence for longer than 15 minutes, Thor on the other hand, was a good friend of yours, which is why he along with Sif and Fandral would tease you relentlessly about your crush on Loki. You only argued with him because he started it and at least that way you got to speak to him. Even when you were small, you meant no harm towards him, you enjoyed your little prank wars, it was an entirely one-sided feud. You cherished the glances you could steal at the bi-weekly family dinners before he caught you and immediately scowled in your direction, today happens to be one of those days. As usual, you’re hoping he’ll be a bit distracted so you can enjoy his presence just a bit longer than usual.

“Y/n! Terrace please” you heard your mother's voice call for you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Coming mother” you shouted back, tucking the golden dagger you’d been fiddling with back into your boot, making your way to the lower terrace where dinners at yours took place, being met with your mother’s face was truly a comfort, her soft and warm features never allowed you to wallow in whatever you were feeling at the time. As you looked around you noticed only two chairs were sitting at the gigantic table.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m afraid so, Frigga has just informed me that they cannot make it tonight, in all these hundreds of years they’ve never canceled, I’m a bit worried. Though we’ll be dining alone tonight, would you be a dear and take them over a basket? Fruits and nuts and the sort, the latest ripened from our garden, whatever is going on is definitely worthy of a gift”

“I’ll take it over quickly, no problem at all” and you did, you grabbed the beautifully adorned golden basket and made your way to Odin’s palace, sure to greet everyone you saw on the way there. Familiar with the setting, you went through Loki’s hallway as you headed for the palace dining hall when you heard the breaking of glasses. Before you could question it, guards ran out of Loki’s room, an unconscious Odin being relocated before the double doors swung shut again. Screams that were easily identified as those of Loki himself. You knew he wouldn’t want you around, you knew it was a bad idea, but that part of you that so desperately wanted to be there for him overrides your sense of self-control as you pushed through the door, setting the basket on his table to be long forgotten. Slowly making your way towards the figure holding itself on the floor before his bed, head tucked between his knees, you let out a small make of his name, so quiet you weren’t sure if he heard.

“Loki?” The head slowly rose, slightly peeking over his shoulder to glance at you before stopping.

“Go away y/n” he weakly muttered.

“I have never listened to you once in our entire thousand years together, why start now?” You giggled at the memory of every time he had called you out for being so insistently stubborn with him. You had expected him to do the same now but were shocked when you were met with silence from the weasel.

“Seriously Loki, what’s up with you? What happened with Odin?” He tensed at the mention of Odin. You carefully moved to where he was, sitting next to him, copying his position on the floor. Being much closer now you could hear the weak sniffles just barely escaping, he was obviously trying to hide whatever was going on in that mischievous mind of his.

“Okay well I’m not going anywhere, so I will sit here with you as long as it takes for you to tell me what your major malfunction is”. No reaction. Being the persistent woman you were, you moved to sit opposite to him, back to the wall across from his bed, and you kept your promise. You have no idea how long you sat there but eventually, you heard the small gulps holding back the tears stop, and his frozen demeanor broke like a dam, tears falling out like he was drowning in them. Without hesitating you quickly made your way to him, reaching to his lean figure and guiding his head to the crook of your neck, his whole body wracked with sobs, enough tears falling to soak the very edge of your top. He was too weak at this point to fight back or care that you were running your fingers through his hair, or even notice that he’d wrapped his arms around your waist. You didn’t mind. Not one bit.

You stayed this way until he stopped, well, to be honest, he had stopped crying about 15 minutes ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to remove his body that was pressed against your side. When he finally detached himself from your body you felt cold without him, not actually because the boy was constantly below 0, but emotionally. He wiped his poor little flushed face.

“Loki, if you’re crying like that it’s obviously of major importance, talk to me sunshine” you rested your hand on his shoulder and he let out a dry laugh.

“You haven’t called me sunshine since that one time you gave me sunburn for cutting off one of your braids with my smallest dagger” he looked up at you somewhat smiley.

“Yeah well you deserved it then and you deserve it now, for different reasons of course. But I’m being truthful, you can tell me anything.” You gave him a light shove.

“Close your eyes, I’m going to show you something when I tell you to open them, that way if I truly look like a freak, I at least know you’ll put out of my misery, I can trust the person who hates me most to do that” you closed your eyes as he began to stand and huffed.

“Loki I don’t-“

“Oh shut your mouth for once y/n, and open your eyes when I tell you”

‘Fine” your reluctance evident in your voice.

“Open.” He barked rather harshly considering how he had spoken just moments ago, but you opened your eyes to be met with Loki, who definitely wasn’t Loki. You stood on weak legs and walked over to the blue man standing so far away with his eyes closed. Your fingers twitched, absentmindedly wanting to touch the fascinating ridges now gracing his face, he was within an arms reach now and you couldn’t help yourself.

A gasp flew out your mouth when you finally made contact with his face, he was always cold but he was truly freezing now, you could swear you felt ice on the tips of your fingers. None of that mattered though, as you pressed both of your warm hands on his cheeks.

“Why are your eyes closed sunshine?”

“You’re already seeing what a freak I am, you don’t need to see the monster as well”

“Oh Loki, you’re not a monster, please open your eyes, I promise I’ll tell you what I think after you do” you promised and you meant it, attempting to soothe him with the run of your thumbs across the apple of his cheeks. His eyes fluttered just before they opened and you were meant with bright red eyes, he let out a shaky sigh expecting you to scream or call him something horrible, he waited for what seemed like forever.

“You’re so beautiful Loki” you said in such a soft voice that he almost believed it, but he pushed away from you instead.

“Don’t lie to me y/n, I’m disgusting and we both know it, I am a living creature of the horror stories we were told as little ones. I am a monster, I am darkness, I am a danger to everyone around me. I now understand why Odin treated me so different all these years, why he favored Thor, I was nothing more than the bastard creature he hoped would actually be of use someday.” His erratic pacing making you nervous, his hand pulling at his black tresses from the root.

“Loki..” you reached out to him.

“I am lost y/n, who am I anymore? I’m a lie, a fabrication of Odin’s place on the throne” another step closer.

“You are Loki, you may not be Odinson but you are Friggason and you know that, your mother loves you dearly. You don’t have to be Laufeyson if you don’t want to, nobody needs to know” another step, you were so close.

“And as far as you being lost…’ you trailed off.

“Y/n?” You must’ve gotten lost in your mind, because Loki’s voice snapped you back into reality.

“Hold on one second” you dug in your boot and pulled out your dagger, twisting the sun pendant that lay just above the handle of the blade, when it finally came off you threw your dagger somewhere, you’d worry about that in a moment. You walked to the corner of the room, opening the pendant and closing it between your two hands, eyes squeezed shut. ‘Please let this work’ you pleaded to yourself. When you opened up your palm you were relieved, ‘it worked’! You stalked back over to him with the palm-sized sun presented before him.

“What is that?”

“It’s for a necklace, for you” he looked so confused you would’ve thought his head would be turned to the side like a puppy.

“How is a necklace going to change the fact that I’m lost?” You had the overwhelming urge to remove his eyes so he couldn’t roll them again.

“Just let me put it on you” you demanded and he reluctantly nodded, once you had it around him you melted the two ends of the pendant necklace together, before heading back to the front of him.

“Now enclose the sun in your hand and close your eyes” you could help but smile.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“One thousand percent sunshine, now do it” he sighed before following the instructions, your eyes lit up when the gift began to emit a warm glow, Loki’s face churned for a moment before relaxing and you knew exactly what had happened when his shoulders dropped, no longer tense. You watched his face contort in every which way until the glow faded out and he opened his eyes, just glossy enough for you to notice.

“What was that?”

“All of the times in our life I’ve ever cheered you up without you knowing it was me” you gave a shy smile, completely unsure of how the unpredictable individual before you would react.

“So when Thor snapped my dagger in half…”

“I basically welded it back together” you rotated your hands and looked at them, but he never took his eyes off of you.

“Why?”

“Well it was a really cool dagger-“

“No y/n, why did you do all of it? Any of it? You hate me” the gaze on your hands broke at that comment, could he seriously never tell???

“Oh don’t give me that Loki, I never have, but you always hated me and I’d rather play along than be viewed as a victim”

“Oh…” guilt seeped through his pores thinking about all the times he wished he would’ve pushed you out a palace window.

“Yeah, ‘oh’. So it's your turn now, why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you” he mumbled, fumbling with his new gift.

“That’s a damn lie and you know it” you couldn’t believe he would even try and play that shit after everything you’ve been through.

“I never hated you, I was just jealous” he crossed his arms.

“Of who, me? Thor? Any of my other friends?” You mimicked his body language, two could play this game.

“Perhaps all of the above. You’re closer with my brother than I am, friends with all his friends, you have this lovely family, you’re cunning and witty and smart and everyone loves you” how he managed to look like a dick when he scoffed, but also look so sweet still rubbing the pendant between his fingers made you want to snap his neck.

“Those are trivial things Loki, I wish you would’ve told me sooner”

“What does this necklace mean y/n?” Your eyes finally meet for a moment.

“You’re lost right?” You spoke up, throat dry. He nodded, still entirely confused.

“Well when you’re feeling lost, I’ll leave my love hidden in the sun, ya know, for when the darkness comes” you said sheepishly, not daring to look up from the toe of your shoe that was suddenly the most fascinating thing on the planet. Before you had time to process the sound of the footsteps, Loki already had your face in his freezing hands, tilting your gaze up just a bit before kissing you, you didn't hesitate before kissing him back with the same chemistry that spread throughout both of you. Your arms moving to wrap around his neck, heart beating out of your chest at a sudden realization, you were kissing Loki, and not just Loki, a blue jottun Loki who apparently didn't hate you. You pulled away on a whim and were met with the pasty boy with crystal eyes you’ve known all your life.

“So what do we do now….” Loki asked gazing so far into you that you swear you could feel it, his small smile and glossy eyes embracing you.

“Well… My mother and I are-“ realization hit you like a bus and you facepalmed.

“I totally forgot that me and my mom were about to have dinner when I came over to…” you walked over to the basket that was long forgotten.

“These are for your mother by the way” he took it from your hands and set it on his bed

“Do you wanna come over? We were expecting you guys anyway and it's not like food ever gets cold in our house-“ he shut you up with a quick peck on the lips, stroking his finger just along your cheekbones.

“I’d love to y/n” he softly smiled at you, you pulled him into another kiss before you began to lead him out the palace. You shared smiles as you walked through the field of flowers you essentially grew up in, hindsight making those memories even more special. As you approached your home you could feel the radiance of your mother, even from the outside. You opened the door and you were both immediately met with a very impatient mother's face, but she slightly softened at the sight of Loki, her eyes immediately dropping to his new accessory, a smile broke through and she simply waved you back to the dining area.

“Everything is alright I presume?” Her smile more radiant than usual.

“Yeah” you make eye contact.

“Everything’s alright” you could feel his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

And for the first time ever, you didn’t receive a scowl when he found you stealing glances, you were met with the same cocky smile that got you here in the first place.

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Thoughts on “Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin”

I love it that there are SO MANY different versions of stories about Gondolin in the legendarium.

I read “Of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin,” and I am absolutely fascinated by it. 

Like WoW, this version’s Gondolin is DARK. 

Yeah, we do not see Tuor actually getting into Gondolin, Turgon never got to appear, but we already know Apparently Gondolin Had Jail and Killed At Least Some Unfortunate Intruders and Was Not Very Friendly to Mortal Men.

The parts when Voronwe constantly voicing his concern whether Tuor would be killed and whether He Himself would be killed for bringing in strangers and exposing the city and how Voronwe’s friend Elemmakil who was the guard lamented that he had been put into a difficult position that he might be forced to hurt Voronwe... Just WOW.

I have a feeling Turgon would be a little bit unpleasant and way more realistic as the king of strange hidden forbidden city in this version. THE ABSOLUTE WONDERFUL DELICIOUS PARALLEL BETWEEN GONDOLIN AND VALINOR

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Also the ridiculous diamond king-helm of Turgon on the Gate of Steel (I can imagine Maeglin rolling his eyes “FINE you can have your DIAMOND-DECORATED USELESS ATROCITY on my masterpiece because I love & respect & HAVE TO TOLERATE you, uncle.”)

And Ecthelion’s spikey, spikey helm with diamond point (seriously, are you using it as glass cutter?) and shield with fountain of tiny crystals...

Noldor elves are crows! (Eol: Listen Son, these crazy invaders are quite similar with Morgoth in the taking over our land and shiny thing obsession and doomed by Namo parts. Stay the fuck away from them or you’ll get dragged into their self-induced tragedies.) 

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

And I really, really love this version of Tuor. Clearly he had his concerns and worries but he CHOSE to listen to people’s advices and trust them and CONSTANTLY CHOSE SO. Such a contrast to his cousin the trashy kitty Turin that kept not listening to people who he knew loved him (sorry Turin I love you but you are a walking disaster), Tuor was this golden retriever who was willing to trust strangers again and again despite being kicked and beaten in the past. He was willing to walk into the dark enduring the uncertainty with the hope that his friend were right that the path leaded to something better. 

Like, he was so, so Human in the BEST way.

(The part that Voronwe talked him down from attacking orcs to get fire and food when they were starving and freezing to death... I love it. Turin would never.)

And he BEFRIENDED the fucking slaver’s dogs and they REFUSED TO CHASE HIM AND FRIENDLY JUMPED AROUND HIM DEMANDING PET. Look, I need an AU where some of the dogs just pulled a Huan and followed him and would not abandon him and hunted for him and fed him and guarded him so he could get some sleep. Like RIGHT NOW.

I don’t quite like Tuor in “The Fall of Gondolin” and don’t have a lot of feelings for him in “Silmarillion” because he seemed like he just got unfairly amount of luck. but this Version? He was lucky and blessed because he CHOSE to accept the luck and bless and TRUST OTHER PEOPLE. And trusting things you do not fully understand yet still choose to trust is frightening and difficult. 

And the book kept bringing up his limitations as mortal human, and he recognized such limitations and trusted other people who had the ability to see & know better.

Yeah I am absolutely convinced why Idril would look at him and decided “yes I am going to taste fuck this mortal being nearly 20 times younger than me and produce kid and smuggle him to the undying land and make him immortal to keep him forever I don’t know how I am going to achieve this list but a girl can try her best”

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And the part Ulmo showed Tuor the Sea from the Lord of Water’s perspective as a farewell gift... I LOVE IT SO MUCH. 

Seeing all the waters in the world, seeing the abyss beneath bottomless ocean, seeing the sea in each and every possible way... So beautiful and so terrifying, so glorious and so sad, so overwhelming for any human to ever fully understand. It was such an unbelievable gift. How can one not yearn for the sea after being presented such visions. 

[youandtom2]

Princes and Birthday Wishes

Prince!Tom Holland x Princess!Reader

Summary: It's your birthday, so you should be able to do whatever you want, right? Nope. Not when you're royal. Ever since you were little, there was never enough 'a princess must never...' rules coming from your mother's mouth. However a certain Prince convinces you to live your life a little more dangerously...

Themes: fluff n smut (18+)

w/c: 4k

Includes: outdoor sex (unseen, unheard), unprotected sex, slight choking

MASTERLIST

Tonight you sit, more anxious than usual, in the position that's moulded your posture ever since you were a little girl. Your mother always told you that a princess must never slouch. Well, there was never enough 'a princess must never...' rules coming from your mother's mouth, but that one in particular was exercised daily.

And today is no exception.

The 90° regal chair has your spine crumbling with discomfort, but yet you comply with the expected attribute influenced by your mother's incessant lessons on being royal. Surrounded by many alike you, you dine in celebration of your 25th birthday. The champagne tastes bitter, the food barely edible for its decadence and barely satisfying for its gourmet portions; the meals being the only thing in this room that are less interesting than those who serve it.

You discreetly glance around the room, struggling to pair faces with names and names with faces and you realise there's a substantial gap between knowing someone and knowing of someone. You peer to your sister, dressed in her finely detailed gown, sitting elegantly around her hips and shoulders flattering her almost-perfect body. You know everything there is to her especially being 3 years older, familiarity couldn't come closer to you with anyone else. Again you peer around the room, spotting the old gentlemen talking to your uncle with a sincere, solemn look to his ageing eyes. Who is that? Why is he invited? What relation does he have to your family? Should you know him? Have you met him before? These are the questions that burn your mind and you ask yourself if all guests really are as important as your mother entails. Because God forbid you invite your own guests to your own birthday celebrations.

Drowning the nerves with the glass of champagne that sits neatly in the curve of your hand, you plaster on a smile, clear your throat and make your announcement.

"Good evening everyone. I would like to express my gratitude to everyone who came today in celebration of my 25th birthday. From family members to office secretaries, and from dukes and duchesses to school friends, I cannot personally thank you all enough for the wonderful gifts I have received. Now, if you would like to join me in the grand hall for refreshments and entertainment, that would be absolutely wonderful.”

If only you could cut to the chase sooner. But, as royalty, everything you say must be formal to some respect. Your mother always tells you that whatever you say must show a degree of intelligence, otherwise you'll be mistaken for someone who is uneducated, immature, inexperienced: traits that won't be tolerated at this level of authority. Whether anyone has ever thought of you like that, you don't know. But you always do what you are told despite what you believe.

It's just all part of being royal, isn't it? Your life has been decided for you since you were able to take your first breath, and it will remain that way until you take your last.

Just as you had advised, the crowd of people slowly disperse into the grand hall as waiters and maids begin to clear the table, the murmuration of voices overlapped by the clinking of glassware and cutlery. You sheepishly follow behind, lagging behind the rest to gain some privacy in the dining hall to gather your thoughts before mingling with the guests, familiar or not.

Well, at least you thought you had some privacy.

"It must be hard," a gentleman's voice appears from beside you. You whip around to see a man of around your age sauntering closer towards you. His navy blue uniform hugs him in all the right places, multiple badges glistening and polished to a sheen on the recognisable Order of the Garter blue sash. He's royal alright, a duke or perhaps, if your luck strikes fortunate tonight, a prince. It’s a conclusion evident enough not because of the obvious uniform, but by the way he composes his elegance and stands poised with such stature. Suddenly the air is sucked from your breath as he demands your attention, reigning in the existing aura and suffocating it with his own presence until his prestige is in full command of this room and everything in it. The brown eyes are familiar, but memory of his name fails you which is a shame. Surely with a man as strikingly charming as the one standing before you, his name would come easily to your lips.

"What is?”

"Being polite to complete strangers you'll probably never meet again and who are only involved with your family because they're desperately hanging on to the idea that somehow your power just might become theirs," he bluntly remarks, plastering a proud grin on his lips. A sly snigger escapes you, blown away by his blatancy which, you admit, speaks some truth.

"You know that because…?"

"I'm not deluded by manners. It's clear to see, but you just don't observe," he asserts.

"And who do these wise words belong to?" You take two timid steps forward towards him, locking him under your glare with a slight smile on your face. You can't help but swing your hips playfully as you stride towards him, branching out and putting aside the typical behaviour of royalty since he’s already done so through his words.

He fixes his posture, arms and legs locked in and upright, as if mocking his seniors.

“Thomas Stanley Holland, Prince of England, your majesty." He takes ahold of your hand bringing it to his lips and place a gentle kiss on your skin.

Yet again, another example of a face you failed to match to name.

"Oh a Prince, how delightful!" You mock, resembling your grandmother with her wavering voice ringing through your ear.

"Now, your royal highness, would you care to take a stroll with me through the garden, which I might say, has the most impressive botanical display I have ever seen.”

You buffer slightly and the comical impressions wear off, debating whether to take up his offer. You turn your head back to the grand hall where everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, oblivious to your absence. Should you? You are the guest of honour, wouldn't people notice? Your mother won't be too happy either…

"Look at them, princess. They're too wrapped up in their own little lives to notice that you're not there." His voice hums softly your ear, hands resting gently on the curves of your shoulders, fingers tracing over the silk fabric as if to coax you into his offer. Your mind latches onto the cold sting of the insignia ring wrapped around his pinky finger before being lost in the ghost of chills that follow his breath, skimming along the curve of your clavicle. “It’s your birthday party for God sake. Leave them, they're not worth your time. Come with me, I want to show you something that is worth your time." You turn to face him. He reads the doubt on your face like it is written in words. You don't think it's possible for you to sink any further into the gentle tones of his voice, but yet, he fails to disappoint. "I promise you they won't notice,” he whispers and seals his promise with a wink. He's ever so persuasive. So much so that you link your arms with his and wander down the hall to the back garden, giggling as you share one last glance to the crowded room behind, successfully leaving without witness.

It's late and the gardeners have switched on the fairy lights decorating the trees that line the stone pathway leading you directly into the botanical greenhouse. The flowers are in full bloom and there's a majestic array of colours bouncing around every corner of the room. From the pink vibrancy of the peonies to the midnight blues of the hydrangeas; every shade lures you towards them, fingers twitching to steal one for yourself. There's a twinkle in the air with the occasional firefly hovering above the flowers, setting the atmosphere perfectly. Although it’s a beautiful sight that is only deserving of your eyes, you can’t help but close them to soak in the calm and natural aura of the room as your ears slip into the low hum of the electric buzzers hidden far in the corners and the delicate trickle of the small waterfall.

Admittedly, it takes your breath away. Mother never allowed you out here this late, 'a princess must be in bed at a reasonable hour to preserve her youth' so she says. You always hated that rule. Especially as a child where your curiosity knew no limits; you wanted to explore everything but you were never allowed. You still aren’t, even as an adult that curiosity still roars as furiously as ever, so being here at this time of night is like a whole new world to you.

"Wow," you whisper, eyes fluttering open once more to take in the botanical magic around you. “It's...beautiful."

"It is, isn't it? Spotted it while I was out having a walk through the garden earlier.”

"I've never seen it like this before, mother never let me out after dark," you cowardly mumble, sweeping your fingertips across the petal of a rose. Imagine: a 25 year old still living under the authority of her mother. He gives you a scowling look.

“You’ve never…? But…you live here.”

You shrug your shoulders, eyes hidden with shame.

“You need to stop letting your mother take control of you. You're a mature woman, there is no doubt you are competent enough to make your own decisions! You're a princess not a pet!”

"And she's the Queen! It just doesn't work like that. I can't disobey her, she'll...she'll disown me."

You can't disregard the look of pity evident in his chocolate brown eyes, nor the soft smile playing on his lips. He closes the distance between you just an inch at a time.

"Princess," he sighs, tongue rolling in the golden honey of his accent. “Life goes too quickly. Especially at our age. I understand perfectly-“

"Do you, though? You're a boy, I bet your mother didn't have any reins on you," you snap, admittedly rather unladylike but your mother isn't here to scorn you.

“No, that may be true enough but I'll tell you what she told me.”

Your heart rate picks up the pace that it's almost bursting through your chest. He's almost a hair's breadth away and you listen very intently to the words being whispered in your ear, ever so gently.

"If you don't challenge it, then it won't change you." He draws back and once again his eyes meet yours purely to see your reaction. A minute passes and nothing is said. Tom’s philosophy, or more rather his mother's, imprints a rebellious thought in your mind. Defying your mother was always hypothetical because you feared of the consequences that you had yet to challenge. You've always been the ideal, obedient daughter your mother always wanted, but what about what you want? If you are to eventually rule this kingdom, then what sort of Queen would cower and fall so easily beneath the authority of others? What Queen leads a kingdom if she cannot even lead her own life?

There's a knowing smile playing on his lips as he observes your epiphany. He brings up his hand towards your face, fingers lightly skimming against your forehead like you were made of glass as he neatly tucks away a stray strand of hair. Every gesture and every word leaves you swooning over the little mannerisms that he owns. It's the way he treats you like you are the most fragile and delicate thing, but yet knows that you are far from it; knows that there’s a spark inside you waiting to be ignited where your true power manifests.

"Happy birthday, princess.”

Just as that sweet, little sobriquet rolls effortlessly off his tongue, his head veers down and blesses your cheek with a kiss so soft, you almost don't feel it. Ironically, the effects are quite the opposite. Now that the distance between you and the Prince is almost close to nothing, a sudden, intense urge pushes you to take advantage of the moment and of his words. It’s almost tantalising how there’s only just a slither of air separating you and feel nothing more than the insatiable desire to make a move. That, and the urge to go against everything your mother has ever taught you.

'The gentleman always makes the first move, it is not ladylike to throw yourself onto them' you hear the echo of your mother's obnoxious tones swimming through your mind.

Oh yeah?

"You mentioned that I should start making my own decisions…"

"Princess?" His eyebrow perks up as does the smirk on your lips.

"How's this for a decision?”

Without even thinking, you instinctively crash your lips onto his. A surge of adrenaline courses through your veins knowing that you're deliberately going behind your mother's back, and completely obliterating everything you know about royal etiquette. The Prince seems more than willing to share this new found maturity with you, mirroring your devotion and giving even more, sinking his lips further into yours that you have to take two timid steps back.

It's sweet, giving you that first taste of independence but it doesn’t last long and you yearn for more. He eases just centimetres away from you and you look up to find his lips still parted and his eyes still closed, taking a moment to himself to savour those precious moments. In your peripheral, you see his tongue run across his bottom lip, but your eyes are glued to the bobble of his Adam’s apple as he swallows and there’s something about the natural instinct that strangely alluring, seductive. A quality you very rarely find in someone whether that be your naivety or the dullness of any other man you have ever come across.

"That's...more like it.” The Prince’s eyes open once again, finding you with rosy cheeks and a fluttering heart beat pounding against your ribcage. Itching, his hands slither around the tight corset at your waist and grips the fastenings at the back. There’s a spark of mischief evident in his eyes. “Any other decisions waiting to be made?” He pulls you closer towards him.

Tom radiates a particular suggestive tone to his words that once heard instantly attracts the newly-born rebel inside you. It drowns out the warnings of your mother until they slip into oblivion, and just like that, you take control. You bite your lip as your hands sweep away the fine lint gracing his chest.

“There might be a few,” you whisper.

“Then go ahead,” he whispers back, eyes darkening with hunger. “There’s nothing to stop you, princess.”

Slowly, tentatively, your hands slide down to find his adorning your waist. Keen eyes watch for his reaction when you guide his hand to your throat and he’s completely captivated by you. You can’t help but let your eyes flutter close when you start to feel his fingers coiling around your neck, deliberate but calculated, not too hard but not too gentle. He hears the quick gasp when the cold insignia ring presses against your skin. Gold, pressed with his family crest, its symbolism of power recreates itself in Tom as he lets go of his inhibitions, closing his fist around your neck.

“Thomas…” A soft whimper escapes your lips and he drinks it in. His lips lie just millimetres out of touch from your own, teasing with the soft sweep of his breath. You need his kiss again. Once is definitely not enough. You’ve explored too much, your curiosity isn’t nearly satisfied and you fear it might never let up knowing what it’s already gotten a taste of.

“What do you want, hm? Tell me. What has the birthday girl wished for?”

“I want…” you take a breath, “I want you to use me.”

“Oh, Your Royal Highness, I like this side of you.” A sinful smirk stretches wide across his lips before he crashes them into yours. You mewl as he melts his lips into yours, his tongue breaching into your mouth, exploring and mingling with your own. All the while his hand coils tighter and tighter. You yelp when your hips bang against the table laden with smaller plant pots, shaking like an earthquake erupts beneath them.

The Prince snakes his way across your cheek, along the line of your jaw and down the column of your neck, replacing his hand with his lips as they kiss your pulse with each beat. You are inevitably stuck with the press of Tom’s body against yours, shaking under his touch as it roams all over you, and a certain heat rises at your core.

“Mmm,” he hums. “You smell amazing, princess. I should keep you all to myself.” He seals his pledge with the sharp pinch of his teeth, sucking a blemish into your skin. Your eyes whip open when you realise that he’s branding you, liberating you from your mother’s clutches and claiming you as his own. Although you know you should be worried about the very visible mark that will be left on your neck, and what insults it’ll pay your mother and her work to make you perfect, but you can’t help lose yourself to his seduction. It’s all so appetising, so alluring, it’s delicious.

He pulls away ever so slowly, noses briefly clashing for a fleeting moment while he peers down to you, lips swollen and glistening. His hands, ever curious, circle around your waist and feel the curve of your hips as they suffocate under the tight corset. Somehow, he grips tighter and whips you around, holding you just as close as before, so much so that his breath funnels against your ear.

You stare at your reflection of the glass, nothing but darkness looming behind it. Prince Thomas catches your gaze with his, darkening by the second and it steals a gasp from you. You are simply pooling at the sight.

“How naughty are you feeling, princess?” He whispers in cool tones.

“Very.”

“Good.” Hands catch themselves on the table in front of you as Prince Tom lifts the hem of your dress until it rests around your hips, throwing you forward. The Prince behind you can't resist to feel the shape of your legs as his fingers drag closely behind, and the closer he gets to your cunt, the more visible the chills become. You release a soft mewl when his thumb trickles down the centre of your underwear, pressing into the wetness and dancing it around in circles. You lean into it, evoking an amused chuckle to swarm your ears while he watches you fall so easily for him. He knew you would.

Standing there, you can’t ignore how good it feels having someone pay you so much attention, listening to your needs instead of reprimanding you for debauchery. The Prince plays you like his own, a puppet and her puppeteer.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally hooks the thin material of your underwear and peels it away from your cunt, slowly, leisurely, adoring the way the wet material grips onto you for just a second longer.

“Fuck.” The expletive sounds like a holy berceuse in his voice. “So wet for me.” He’s almost panting at how tight you look, and he grips your hips like a vice because he’s not going to let you run away now. Not a chance.

Instinctively, he ruts into you and releases just the hint of a groan, suppressing it until he can fully feel inside of you.

The thrill of adrenaline runs ragged in your veins, eagerly waiting for what you know is coming. However, when you feel his hand coil around your wrist, pulling it blindly behind you, you feel a certain trepidation. Yet, you find it completely justified when he coils the palm of your hand around his cock and shit, he’s huge. A bead of cum seeps from his tip and your hand catches it, and with his slow thrusts, it spreads along his length. He’s teasing, you realise. Your cunt waits impatiently just inches away from him, his tip poking and prodding sparingly, but yet he thrusts into your hand instead.

“Stop the teasing,” you beg. Your head cranes over your shoulder to catch a glance, but he snakes his hand around the back of your neck.

“Patience, your highness. I’m going to take my time to fuck you.”

Your hand slips, and his cock buries deep inside of you. A sharp inhale pierces your lungs where a low growl leaves his. For a moment, he stays still to feel the minute clenches of your walls as they try to acclimate to his size. Overwhelmed with pleasure, his fingers grip around the curve of your neck and your hip, holding you down while he pushes himself to reach your limits. You're on the verge of tears and very quickly losing control over the scream that’s trapped in your throat, but you have to hold it in: letting it out would alert everyone in the palace.

He shifts and you squeal. The Prince starts to rut his hips back and forth, grinding himself against you in the filthiest of ways, uninhibited and drunk of the tight squeeze of your cunt.

“God. Fuck. You feel amazing. You feel like fucking royalty.”

His virile thrusts are torturous, meticulously slow in their movements as he savours every twitch of your cunt, every lewd noise, every moment his hips grind against yours. He keeps you hanging on the edge for what feels like hours, internally pleading for more.

Things thankfully change pace when your clit suffers under his fingers and his cock pumps harder and harder into you. The table beneath you is shaking and threateningly close to breaking, but you lack the attention to care. Everything on your mind evolves around Prince Tom and the way he’s making you feel, the way he expertly arouses a very particular feeling to pull taut in your stomach. You cry out for release and Tom responds with something similar, guiding you over the threshold until suddenly, you’re cumming.

It washes over you hard and fast. With your head sunken low against the table, your body falls victim to its instincts, squeezing around Tom as he remains deep inside you to feel what he can from the repercussions of your orgasm. It feels dirty and obscenely vulgar, but yet you’ve never felt so unrestrained, finally living the liberation of the many etiquette rules your mother forced upon you.

God, what your mother would think of you now…

“Oh my God,” you breathe. “I can’t…I can’t believe we just done that…”

Prince Tom heaves a mirthful chuckle, gently easing away from you and coaxing you into his care with the warmth of his hands. He sweeps them across the expanse of your hips and thighs, soothing them, forcing them to unwind from the strain. He graciously fixes you up while you recover, pulling you up into his embrace when you eventually do.

“I mean, we’re outside! Anyone could’ve walked out here and seen us! We could’ve been caught! My mother…she would absolutely kill me. She would kill you! Thomas-“

Tom silences you with his lips, a small smile shaping his kiss while he sinks into you. You audibly hum, sighing into his lips. When he pulls away, you seem to be more level-headed.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “Killed the mood, didn’t I?” You’re all-too-aware of the bashful, coy smirk that dons your lips when you face him again. He can’t suppress the compulsion to gently pinch your chin, and let his thumb graze over your bottom lip, trapped in between your teeth and visibly smiles at your diffidence, eyes twinkling with admiration.

Is that your heart fluttering?

“Not at all, princess. That’s just what happens when you live a little.” With the lightest of touches, he traces around the shape of the blemish he left on your neck…that you completely forgot about. Stunned, you grip his hand but his smile just stretches wider.

“I don’t think I’ll be living much longer if my mother sees this.”

[greyeyedmonster-18]

(so while i have my own thoughts about the bump in sirius's nose which has been a very long standing hc of mine facially/physically, @lunapwrites posted something along the lines of "harry did it" and....here we are. ((mostly nonsense)).

also for @impishtubist who needed some pilates cleansing sirius & harry content, and also thanks to @femme--de--lettres who tolerated me being a fucking tyrant and delegating fanfiction prompts so this could happen peacefully)

-

Until Harry, until tiny, messy-black-haired, little fingered, loud squealing, Harry James Potter came into the world Sirius hadn't ever been around a baby.

His brother, but Sirius was only just over a year when his brother was this tiny (and Sirius wasn't actually sure his brother was ever this tiny). Same with his cousins baby. Nymphadora with her brown hair that turned pink when Sirius held her for the first time--the only time, really.

Harry was the first, and Harry was perfect, Sirius leaving his quiet tiny flat he shared with Remus and visiting James more and more after Harry was born.

Something happy in the middle of the war.

Something to focus on that wasn't his relationship teetering on edge of failure or the missions he left on at night that left him with unshakable paranoia and fear he couldn't admit to anyone out loud, shrugging it all off. Easy smile, straight spine, nothing to it, even though the last mission left him with a sort-of burn on his shoulder he hadn't figured out and was too stubborn to go to St. Mungos for. The same burn he was trying to avoid resting on as he laid on the floor of James and Lily's sitting room.

Babies liked the floor, Sirius realized. Or rather, they liked it when grown-ups were on the floor, Harry taking immense joy in sitting and waving his arms, occasionally hitting Sirius in the stomach or on his knee cap with a ball or a plastic noise-maker. The Potters floor was littered with baby toys these days, and every night before Sirius left, he picked it up.

The least he could do, really, when his best friends had given him the best gift.

James was across from him grinning ear to ear, "Look at that balance," he said reaching an arm forward to poke his infant in the side, Harry letting out a loud squeal of delight as he moved to look back at his Dad. Sirius extended his arm to make sure Harry didn't topple backward entirely (like he had a few times before) and hit his head on the floor, "Can't wait until he's big enough to fly..."

"What, like a few months right? He's almost a year."

James's eyes went wide and Harry laughed, crawling over to his father to poke at his face.

Harry loved to touch faces too, and every time James had to dodge a tiny finger from snatching the glasses off his face, or from going up his nose, Sirius had to resist the urge to say like father like son. James was 21 and had done the same thing for years. Sirius had lost track of the birthdays and Christmas's and cold Wednesday nights and bright Friday mornings that James would put his hands on Sirius's face, or else poke at cheekbones or brush hair out of eyes. It had been that way since 11. Sirius wasn't surprised that tiny Harry had picked up on it quickly as well.

"A year? Are you mental? Lily tripped up the front path yesterday evening--"

"Excuse me!"

"Love you so much, dear," James said and Sirius laughed a little, hearing Lily's obvious huff from the bedroom, at the indignity of her clumsiness being mentioned, "And you know I broke a finger at least once a week playing. He'll be an athlete, of course, I wouldn't deprive him, but he's not getting on a broom until he's at least--"

"One and one-sixteenth?"

"What's that like one and a day?"

"Daft," Sirius shook his head and James rolled his eyes.

"I was going to say one and a half, but you were mean so I'll say three."

"That's not happening, he'll get one for his birthday."

"He's my kid, my r--"

"Bite your tongue, he's our kid," Sirius gasped, reaching forward to pluck Harry away from James and lifting him up into the air, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder as he did so. Harry giggled loudly, a plastic ring in his fingers.

"Do I get any credit for this or...." Lily's voice trailed down the hallway and Sirius laughed again, setting Harry down on the floor in front of him. Harry didn't waste any time moving towards Sirius's face, hand grabbing Sirius's lower lip, green eyes bright and curious. Tiny, perfect, Harry James Potter.

"Do you have an opinion on Quidditch?" James called back.

"Not in the house and he's lucky his mother is going to be a Healer one of these days!" Harry immediately started giggling again, his hands waving frantically

"See?" Sirius said, "Lils--" Sirius was cut off by a powerful infant fist to the face, his nose specifically, that was holding the plastic toy. Just enough impact. Just the right angle and Sirius's eyes started watering. It was a tiny crack, but Sirius had heard it.

"Son of a--"

"Infant in the room! Watch your mouth! Infant in the--" James exclaimed, pulling Harry away from Sirius, the baby oblivious to what had just occurred, only finding it hysterical that Sirius now had a hand over his face, and was sitting up with messy hair after having been on the floor.

"Your kid just broke my nose!"

James also found it hysterical, even as he stood up with Sirius so they could go to the kitchen. Had it not been so tragic, it might have been Sirius's favorite sound in the world--James and Harry laughing together, matching sort of giggles one just a few octaves lower.

"Lily! We might--" James attempted to catch his breath, "need your assistance!"

--

Sirius stared at his reflection in the mirror of his bedroom at Number 12. He had never bothered to fix the break properly himself after Lily had mended it. At the time, it was because Sirius's face was finally his own, after years of searching for invisible inconsistencies between himself and his ancestors.

At fourteen he looked for freckles on his face that might have been too big or too dark--but they weren't, the one below his left eye in the same place his Grandfathers had been.

At sixteen he had hoped his facial hair would grow in rough and patchy, but it didn't, the pattern identical to his fathers, and his uncles and all the men who had posed stoically for portraits that lined the halls of Number 12.

His eyes, his cheekbones, his lips were from his mother.

His jawline, his skin tone, his dark, dark hair were from his father.

His nose.

Bumped, and bent and crooked...that belonged to Sirius.

It was the first present his godson had ever given him.

Sirius threw his hair up into a knot before walking out of his bedroom and tiptoeing downstairs, hoping Harry was still asleep-- he was fourteen after all and it was holiday--and Sirius would have time to prepare breakfast, all of Harry's favorites, looking forward to another day that was just theirs.

"What's all this, babe?" Sirius asked, when he got to the kitchen and noticed a plate of pancakes already on the table. Placemats were set, even. Harry turned around from his spot at the stove, smiling hesitantly.

"A...surprise?"

"It's not my birthday, I think I already had one of those."

"Think?"

"Could be wrong."

Harry rolled his eyes but turned back to the stove, Sirius stepping closer and wrapping his arms around the shoulders of his godson, chin resting on top of his head.

Still tiny Harry James Potter, even if Sirius had lost him for twelve years. He was here now.

"I just wanted to say...thanks? I guess? Is that okay?"

"That's very nice of you, Harry," Sirius told him and Harry turned his head so he could look at Sirius's face.

Harry still did that too. And Sirius was thankful a broken nose wasn't the only gift he had ever gotten from his godson.

Because now Harry was here.

Told you he was my kid too, James.

[itsdanii]

Rejecting you and regretting it

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: slight cursing, rude behavior (resolved), do message me if I forgot any.

ft. sakusa kiyoomi, tsukishima kei

Sakusa Kiyoomi

you're not oblivious to the fact that kiyoomi is a very conscious person

that's one of the things you loved about him

he was hygienic and he always made sure that his health was his utmost priority

but one downside is that kiyoomi had the tendency to push people away because of his straightforwardness

you were used to it and in fact, you were one of those people he tolerated

but everyone has their bad days

and unfortunately for you, today was kiyoomi's and since you were always attached to him by the hip, he unintentionally snapped at you

what's worse is that he snapped at you the moment you confessed to him

"Omi!" you shouted happily as you entered the gymnasium, giving Komori a small wave before making your way to where Kiyoomi was sitting.

He looked at you with a frown. He wasn't wearing a mask since they were training awhile ago and only took a quick break. "Y/n, what are you doing here?"

You sat beside him making Kiyoomi grimace and slightly move away. You frowned at him, completely displeased at the action. "I just wanted to give you a visit. Plus, I have something to tell you."

You started to fiddle with your fingers nervously. You practiced your confession several times already but doing it seemed harder than you thought.

"What is it? Talk, I'm not in the right mood to socialize right now."

Out of panic, you quickly blurted out a rather loud, "I like you!" You immediately covered your mouth with your hand and stared at him wide eyed.

The other players looked at you with sympathy, knowing what's about to happen. Out of all days, you really had to confess today, when Kiyoomi was in a pissy mood after several fangirls pushed themselves against him this morning, not minding his personal space.

Kiyoomi stared at you with a serious expression before standing up. "I don't like you. Leave."

"But Omi.."

"You're irritating and you always bother me when it is clear that I don't want your company." He turned around and left you on the bench, your head casted down in humiliation.

You whispered a small sorry before running out of the gym with tears falling from your eyes.

For the next few days, you did your very best to stay away from Kiyoomi. You changed your route to school knowing that your usual route meant that you have to pass by his house. Even if you got scolded several times for being late, you did not stop.

You sat near the door so you can easily exit the room after class. You even stopped eating with Komori and Kiyoomi during breaks and lunch. Even your usual routine of visiting the gym during practices was stopped.

At first, Kiyoomi didn't mind. He knew that you'd come back in a few days just like you always did. You like him after all, right?

But when a few days turned into weeks, He started getting bothered. Why weren't you pestering him like always? Why did you stop visiting him? You said you like him, right?

It was the second week that Kiyoomi took action. He woke up extra early to wait for you infront of your house, aiming to confront you about your behavior.

When you went out, your eyes widened slightly upon seeing Kiyoomi waiting for you outside. He was wearing his face mask while staring at you intently, letting you know that he purposely waited for you.

You looked down and was about to walk pass him when you felt him tugging on your wrist. Your gaze snapped to his hand, not believing that he was indeed touching your skin.

"Sakusa?"

His eye twitched at the weirdness of you not calling him like usual. Sighing, he stepped a little closer to you, hand still holding your wrist to ensure that you won't run away from him.

"You're ignoring me," he said while eyeing you. "Why?"

You took your hand from him and furrowed your brows. "I'm just doing you a favor. I don't want to be a bother anymore. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I-"

"It's fine, Sakusa. You don't have to force yourself to apologize just because you feel bad or obliged to."

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'm not apologizing because I feel bad."

"Then what? You're apologizing just to make fun of me? I know I said I like you but that doesn't mean that you have the right to-"

"You don't get it!"

At this point, you were both raising your voices. Some passersby were looking at you two weirdly, some even running as to not get caught up in the fight.

"Get what, Sakusa? Why don't you tell me so I can understand?!"

"I like you!" Kiyoomi exclaimed. "I... Fuck. I like you, okay? I wasn't in the mood when you confessed and I rejected you without thinking. I messed up. The moment I saw you walk out, I knew I fucked up real bad and I-"

"Om-"

"And I thought that you'd come back the next day to bother me again like usual. I wanted to apologize but my pride-"

You sighed as he continued to ramble. With fast movements, you stood on your tiptoes and encircled your arms around his neck to pull him down to you, kissing him over his mask.

When you let go, Kiyoomi was silent. His eyes were wide and you thought that you went over board. Panic made its way to your face as you try to find the words to explain.

"Sorry, I didn't me-"

This time, he was the one to cut you off. Kiyoomi took off his mask and bent down to kiss you on your lips. One of his arms snaked around your waist to support you while the other settled on your nape, angling you to him.

"Be my s/o."

Tsukishima Kei

Everyone in Karasuno knew how much you like Tsukishima

In fact, you remind him everyday

You often give him fresh strawberries from the market and even bake him strawberry cake

Sometimes, you would put little sticky notes on his belongings and write some encouraging words like "you can do it", "I believe in you" or "take it easy!"

On his birthday, you even gave him a hoodie with a dino design (which he secretly loved)

There are times that you knew Tsukishima gets irritated when you visit and even snaps at you but you didn't mind. You liked him and a small snap will not discourage you

But what you didn't know was that it would only take one conversation to completely shatter your heart

"-And they're back," Sugawara said as he saw you enter the gym, a bubbly smile present on your face as usual.

"Kei!" You skipped your way towards Tsukishima and handed him his water bottle which you voluntarily refilled with hot water.

He only gave you a 'tsk' and took the water bottle. Adjusting his glasses, he stared at you from head to toe as if analyzing you, a small blush appearing on his cheeks.

"What are you looking at? Have you finally come to realize that you like me back?" you cheekily asked, poking his bicep.

"No. I was just wondering how someone could look so ugly."

Despite what he said, you forced yourself to giggle, covering your upset feeling with an eye roll. "Oh shut up, Kei. You don't have to hide it, you know? Don't worry, I'm not going to reject you."

You winked at him causing Tsukishima to blush even more.

The rest of the boys snickered and laughed at his reaction which made Tsukishima more embarrassed than he already is.

"Just confess to the girl already, Tsukishima. Can't you see she's trying hard to win you?" Daichi said with a small chuckle while patting Tsukishima's back.

Tsukishima just huffed and pushed his glasses up. "What's there to like? They're nothing but an eyesore anyway."

"What?" you asked in disbelief.

Having a playful banter with Tsukishima was normal in your routine but this was the first time he called you such an offensive term. Does he really think of you that way?

"Oh come on, stop acting dumb. I don't even get why there are guys running after you. I mean, there's really nothing much to look at, right?"

Everyone grew quiet at what he said, clearly not expecting Tsukishima to be at such level of rudeness.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat as your insecurity skyrocketed. "I try hard every single day to look presentable to you. I-"

You paused for a moment to laugh pathetically at yourself. "I exert a lot of effort to make you notice me. I cook for you, I give you gifts. Heck, I even stay after class to help clean the gym so that the task would be easier for you and I'm not even asking for anything in return."

Tsukishima glared at you sharply that you immediately felt extremely smaller than him. "I never asked you to do those things for me."

"Can't you at least show me that you care?" You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. "Because I'm slowly getting tired of this push and pull game."

"Don't you get it? I don't like you. Why don't you stop pushing yourself to me and start getting a life, hm?"

"Tsukishima, that's enough!" you heard Daichi yell at him.

"Y/n?" Sugawara was immediately beside you, his hand rubbing circles on your back in attempt to calm you down.

"No-" You lifted your face up to meet Tsukishima's eyes. "I think he's right. I should stop being a nuisance and focus on myself."

"I'll leave you alone. I'm sorry," you said before giving Tsukishima a bow and leaving the gym with everyone's eyes following your figure until the door shut.

Everyone could only look at Tsukishima as he cursed under his breath.

"Shit."

The moment you left the gym, you headed straight to the comfort room to let your tears out. You stared at yourself on the mirror as tears cascaded down your cheeks.

"You're beautiful," you reassured yourself while pointing at your own reflection. "What he said doesn't make you any less. Know your worth."

You wiped your tears and splashed your face with cold water before getting out and heading to class without sparing Tsukishima any glance.

You ignored Tsukishima, stopped visiting the gym and focused on yourself. You even made made friends with some of your classmates that you didn't bother getting associated with last time because you were too focused on capturing the attention of Tsukishima.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain male was eyeing you as you interact with other people. He blamed himself for pushing you away. He didn't talk to you, thinking that you only wanted space for a couple days before bothering him again.

He knew that what he said was out of line and he regret everything he did. He even asked Yamaguchi and the rest of the team for advice but all of them responded with the same answer - apologize and tell you how he feels.

Tsukishima gripped the pen tightly as he watched you laughing at something your classmate said. The said classmate was too close to you and it was obvious that he was trying to flirt with you.

"Tsukki?" Yamaguchi called out. He followed Tsukishima's gaze and sighed. "Why don't you go and talk to them?"

"Tsk. Why would I do that? Can't you see they're enjoying his company?" Tsukishima bitterly said.

"You'll end up losing them if you don't do something about it now. Who knows, they might already be lo-" Yamaguchi stopped as Tsukishima instantly stood up and made his way to where you are.

Taking your wrist, he pulled you towards him, heading out of the classroom.

"Tsukishima, what the hell?!" You tried to resist but his grip on your wrist only tightened.

You gasped as he suddenly stopped, trapping you against a wall with his arms beside your head.

"I'm sorry." Tsukishima closed his eyes, balling his fist as he bowed his head. "I said hurtful words to you and no amount of apology will take those away but I want you to know that I regret every single one of it."

You bit your lower lip as you felt yourself tearing up once again. "Do you really think that I'm ugly? I was hurt, Kei. It's just.."

"I'm sorry." His hand made its way to your cheek, cupping your face while he wiped your tears with his thumb. "You're not ugly."

You shook your head and averted your gaze from him, a sob escaping your lips as you felt yourself falling for him deeper. "Don't. Just stop. I'll accept your apology but please just leave me be. I won't be able to stop my feelings for you if you keep leading me on."

"But I don't want you to stop."

"What?"

"I've fallen for you." He tipped your chin up with his hand making you look at him and you were surprised to see the vulnerability in his features. "Please look at me again, y/n. Keep loving me because I swear that I'll do things different this time. Give me a chance."

You can't help but encircle your arms around him, burrying your face on the side of his neck as you nodded repeatedly. "One chance, Kei."

Tsukishima hugged you tightly, lips pressing on the side of your head. "One chance." He leaned away from you and held your face with his hand, eyes boring to yours admiringly.

"You're beautiful."

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