#or rather they look like they pretend to be the perfect couple in front of an unwilling retired underpaid therapist

[loumandforyou]

Why Louis and Armand talk and act like they are in couple therapy when they are with Daniel?

[sukirichi]

WHEN I SEE YOU AGAIN | G. SATORU x READER

You’ve been pretending not to see ghosts your whole life in order to blend in perfectly, but you can’t ignore the cute ghost with a bright smile standing in front of your door.

cw. ghost! gojo. fem! reader. minimal fluff. graphic depictions of murder. angst. hurt no comfort. mentions of grief. mentions of being under the influence (alcohol and drugs.) characters with depression. unedited.

notes. wrote a lil something for gojo since it’s been a while since i wrote any jjk fics and i missed it :( also should i open requests again? i miss writing one shots lol

wc. 7k

You met him on the first night of winter.

Eager to get home after a long and tiring day at work, you blow hot air on your freezing palms to keep them warm before stuffing it deep in your coat pockets. The walk home was less than fifteen minutes, and you’ve always refused to buy a car because you enjoyed the journey and wanted to familiarize yourself more with the city. You previously lived in the outskirts, but after a phone call from the main department telling you you were promoted and had to transfer in the city, you found yourself packing up on the weekend and renting a cheap apartment.

Located in the middle of everything – convenience stores, medical facilities, popular bars, and a quaint looking flower shop with a cute florist – you thought your apartment was perfect. It was a little shabby, you had to admit. The plumbing didn’t work well and electricity got cut off at random times in the night that resulted in a headache because you couldn’t send that damn email, but the landlord offered an extremely cheap rent that you couldn’t refuse. Plus, it was only a few minutes walk from your office and your neighbors were peaceful.

Well, most of them anyway.

Your neighbors consisted of mostly old couples who were so silent and desolate that you often forgot they existed, your eyes widening whenever you saw an unfamiliar old lady walking and asking you how your day was before realizing, Oh, she’s Mrs. Oliver, I completely forgot. Save for the married couple who were always throwing pots and pans at each other because darn Ronald couldn’t put the toilet seat back down, your place was placid. The landlord was ecstatic when you saw her poster and inquired for a unit, muttering something about not getting enough tenants to keep the place going because of ‘a traumatic issue.’

You’d really rather not ask what it was.

Besides, you’ve never been curious enough of what the world has to offer, simply because you see things – or rather fragments of people – that you’d rather not see. Ever since you started seeing ghosts at a young age of four, people avoided you like the plague, calling you a ‘freak’ and whatnot. Your family soon moved away to a much smaller place in the city because they couldn’t handle seeing their child who often talked to ghosts and sat in corners alone while laughing by herself be criticized by others. They didn’t believe you, of course, often calling it a ‘lonely child’s imagination.’ They sent you to multiple therapists who always assured you that they would listen to whatever problems you were having to cause you to be this way.

Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. You weren’t lonely at all. You saw a dozen ghosts every day who were always ecstatic at finding out you could see them, and they were more than willing to interact. As a child, you always thought ghosts were more interesting than actual people because they had an unlimited amount of time to converse with you, and they have had so many experiences to share with you. 

When you grew older, however, you started to see yourself in other’s eyes, realization dawning on you that on social norms, you are, indeed, a freak.

Determined to fit in more and also sick of being faced with countless counselors who strongly believed you had a traumatic experience when your whole life has been nothing but bland and plain, you started ignoring them. It wasn’t easy at first, though. These ghosts have always kept you company while everyone gave you the side eye without knowing who you really were, and you admit you felt lonely in the beginning and a little guilty when they were convinced you couldn’t see them anymore.

You participated more in school activities and even joined a photography club in high school (you had to quit a month later because ghosts kept appearing on your photos, and you had to burn them in order not to freak anyone out) and with each baby step you took, you started to fit in more. The proud look your parents had on their faces when you had finally become ‘normal’ and even got an award for being an exemplary student was enough to keep you going on this journey, and you ignored the lonely spirits so hard that you eventually started seeing less and less of them.

Until now.

Standing in front of your door was a young man, his back awkwardly bent and long, beautiful fingers fiddling awkwardly with one another. He stood barefoot yet wore a comfy looking blue university hoodie and grey sweatpants, and his silver hair seemed shiny and healthy enough to  not consider him a homeless man who was lost and simply wandering. Tipping your head to the side, you rack your brain to remember if you had any neighbours like him. 

His head snaps in your direction. 

He is definitely not your neighbour. You would have remembered such a cute looking guy.

He had unnaturally ethereal futures, prominent cheekbones becoming more pronounced when you meet his eyes, and you blink to gain control over your body when you realize you’ve been staring too long than what would be considered acceptable. You don’t even deny you’ve been checking him out, although you do ignore the almost puppy-like way his eyes lit up at the sight of you, causing your heart to jump a little. Just a little. You also liked how his hair complimented perfectly with his pale skin – he seemed like an exact embodiment of winter. 

You walk forward, spinning your keys at the end of your pointer finger. Smiling at him politely, you paused in your tracks. He’d been blocking your door. “Hello, is there something I can help you with?”

No matter how cute he was, you wouldn’t hesitate to break his nose if he was a criminal.

His pretty hands come up to his face to cover his mouth falling open, and you take a step back when he does a little jump and starts laughing. “You can see me?”

“Uhm, yes,” you answer. “You’re blocking my door, so yeah, I can very much see you.”

As if realizing just now he stood in the way of you and your comfortable bed, who was calling out to you by now, he mutters a quick apology under his breath before stepping aside, a goofy grin remaining on his face and his childish behavior makes you scoff in amusement. He was still watching you even after you’ve unlocked your door, and you sigh at him. “Is there any reason you’re still standing outside my apartment, or should I call the police?”

Instead of looking worried like you expected him to, his smile only gets bigger. “Actually, I live here, well… I used to.”

You stare at him blankly with a slack expression on your face, watching as his features turn sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Looking down on his bare feet, you mumble a curse under your breath when you realize he’s hovering. 

“Not again,” you say to yourself before placing a palm against your forehead. It’s been years since you last saw a ghost, why did you have to see them now out of all times? A new branch is opening up and your superiors have given you the project of making sure the launch goes well, and you didn’t really want a ghost bothering you with your biggest task of all time. You worked hard for this promotion, you didn’t want to take one step forward and two steps back. Glaring at the undeniably attractive ghost who still hovered in your doorway, you decided he wasn’t your problem. 

“Well, goodnight.”

You slam the door on him and trudge towards your bedroom, ignoring his “Wait!” as you unwrap the red scarf around your neck and plop on your bed almost lazily, moaning when your stiff muscles finally relax. The bed was so soft and warm because you’d left the heater on accidentally, and you’re about to be sent to dreamland when a voice beside you speaks up.

“You should take off your makeup before going to bed.”

Opening your eyes and coming face-to-face with the ghost who was resting his chin in both of his hands and laying on your bed, you grab a pillow and throw it at him, and he grins when the object goes past him completely. “Get out of my house, stop bothering me!”

“Technically, darling, this is still my house,” he tells you and starts sitting up before crossing his legs. “The unit was still named after me before you came.”

“Then why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“I was murdered here four years ago,” he deadpans, soft voice flitting into a murmur as he plays with his fingers again, refusing to look at you. “That’s why I never left. Judging from what you said earlier, you can see ghosts, and you know exactly why we’re still here.”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you stumble over your words. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know and–”

“It’s quite alright,” he shrugs. 

Silence soon joins the two of you; the ghost playing with the ends of your blanket with a far-off look in his face while you study his features, and something tugs at your heart. The reason why ghosts remain here instead of passing on like they were supposed to was because it meant someone was still holding on to them and absolutely refused to let go, or if they had unfinished business that needed to be resolved before they could go in peace. You’ve met ghosts like him who were murdered, and all of them remained with a seething rage and insatiable need for revenge, unable to accept that there wasn’t much they could do in their state. 

As for the one sitting in your ghost, a small smile tugs at the end of his pink lips as he takes in your bedroom, amusement dancing in his eyes at the amount of stuffed animals you had and some framed photos of you as a child. 

“You decorate much better than me, and you’re a lot more organized, too. This place was such a mess back when I was still alive.”

There was an unmissable hint of sadness behind his voice, and you can’t help but ask his name. “I’m Satoru,” he grins, “and for the record, I’ve always been here, just floating through time and space, but not the afterworld yet. For some reason, ever since you arrived, I just appeared back where I left off.”

You nod and take in his words, noticing how he clears his throat and sends a sheepish look your way. “If it’s not too much of a bother, can I ask for your help?”

“What is it?”

He stands up and heads toward your desk, although you supposed it was his since the furniture had already been here before you came. You didn’t think too much about it back then and only felt grateful that you had one less piece of furniture to buy, especially since it was empty. Apparently not, because Satoru keeps digging around through your files with his tongue peeking out his lips, and you vaguely recall that ghosts are able to touch things after feeding off of energy from living beings.

Letting out an ‘aha!’ when his hand finally lands on what he’s looking for, he tenderly places a photo on your outstretched palm with a shy smile. Inside the photo was a beautiful man, probably in his mid twenties, his hair up in a messy bun as he grinned at the camera. Beside him, Satoru’s eyes are closed with his head thrown back in laughter, relishing the feeling of that warm sunny day, and you unconsciously frown at it.

“His name’s Suguru,” he began, his eyes turning glossy at the sight of the polaroid. “He was my best friend before I died.”

Pursing your lips and feeling the tension thicken the room, you ask him, “Why are you telling me this?”

“He’s the reason why I can’t go,” he admits, shoulders dropping while his eyes remain trained on her. “He blames himself for everything and refuses to accept that I’m gone, that’s why I’m still here.”

You remain silent and take a deep breath, your head pounding at the situation. It was a beautiful first night of winter, the perfect weather for you to do your work from home while nestling a cup of hot cocoa in your hands, yet it seems your plans changed and you have to help this ghost out. A part of you wants to reach out and embrace him in a hug, but you know you’ll only end up stumbling on your own feet and clearly, Satoru wants to move on to the next chapter of his journey.

“Can you please tell him I’m okay now?”

When he looks at you like that, shoulders hanging low and an almost shy smile decorating his innocent features, it’s hard to say no.

“I will.”

Through the past few weeks since you’ve met Satoru, your life seemed to light up like a Christmas tree without you noticing. He was a funny guy and often pulled pranks on you, like slamming the cabinets open and closed or leaving your window open in the middle of the night, laughing when you shout at him as your teeth chatter and you slam your windows shut. 

“I could have died from the cold, you idiot!”

He keeps laughing as if he didn’t nearly kill you with hypothermia, “Well, if you die, I guess we’ll be together then,” and even has the audacity to wiggle his eyebrows. You scowl at him and pull your jacket closer to your body, asking what he wants from you because he never goes this far to demand for your attention unless he wants something from you.

“What do you want this time?”

“I wanted to finish that series we were watching the other day,” he pouts rather childishly, “You always tell me not to watch it without you.”

On a particular weekend where you felt like your brains were about to explode from exhaustion due to your work piling up, you refused to wake up until noon, and you felt thankful Satoru knew how tired you were and let you have your much needed rest. When you woke up, a bowl of cereal was already waiting for you in your kitchen island, meaning the reason you felt tired even after that long slumber was because he fed off your energy to give you food.

Feeling thankful for the simple, sweet action, you munched on it happily. It wasn’t anything special and the corn flakes had gone too crusty for your liking, but Satoru’s happiness at you appreciating what he prepared was worth it. After breakfast, you dumped the bowl into the sink and planned to wash it later, opting to flick through Netflix for a good show. Satoru had excitedly pointed at one title that he said he’s always wanted to watch, and the two of you became hooked on it soon enough. Lunch and dinner were both forgotten as you two sat beside each other, your leg against his. Although you couldn’t exactly feel him, his presence was warm.

You and Satoru had been so immersed in the show and unexpected turn of events that time flew by and it was already half past three. He was the first to notice and he jumped from his seat, his hands waving worriedly in a comical manner. “I’m so sorry I made you skip your meals! Aren’t you hungry, you should have some pizza delivered or something.”

Glancing at the clock, you hummed when you realized it was indeed late. You weren’t feeling hungry since you were mostly abeyant, and nothing was open to deliver food around this time anyway. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “I’m not really hungry, and that show is addicting. Oh, and don’t watch it without me! I know you always go ahead when I’m not home!”

Satoru huffs and plops down next to you dramatically, rolling his eyes and taunting you. “Then don’t go to work, Little Miss Manager.”

You poke your finger with his forehead but it only passes through and he laughs, “I need money to survive, idiot.”

“Whatever,” he dismisses and points to your bedroom. “You’ve still got to edit your final draft, so you have to wake up early. Go to bed, don’t worry about the dish, I’ll handle it.”

“Liar, you’ll only feed from my energy so you can play video games!”

“Hey, you can’t blame me!” He counters back as he proceeds to your sink and pumps out soap to the sponge, “You were the one who bought me that console!”

“Only because you kept whining to me how much you wanted it,” you retorted before yawning, and his eyes softened at the sight of you. He rarely gets to see you dressed so comfortably in a loose shirt, cardigan and pajama pants since you were such a busy woman whose fashion sense monotonously consisted of pearl white button-up blouses and knee-length pencil skirts. Prudish and preppy, he thought, but it suits you just fine.  

“You should sleep now,” he reminds you with a nod of his head back to your bedroom, and you obey, simply because your eyes were sore and tired from binge watching. You’re in the process of cocooning yourself under the covers when he calls out in a sing-song voice, “Thank you for the console, by the way. I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shut up!” You scream, and his rambunctious laugh was the last thing you heard before your body wholeheartedly welcomed sleep. 

You’ve been thinking about that day ever since, the moment replaying over and over again in your head, successfully distracting you from focusing on your work. Even your co-workers have noticed that you’re lusterlacking lately, but how could you focus on anything else when you had a charming yet lonely ghost who was waiting for you at home?

For days on end, you can only think about the cheerful and carefree sound of his laugh as if he had so much happiness in his lithe body that he couldn’t contain. Your heart always got tugged in its heartstrings whenever you had trouble falling asleep and he sat beside you in your bed, singing you lullabies and caressing your cheek. You started to feel him now – the gush of air in your skin meant he was pressing onto you, and the more you got attached to him, the more you got confused with your feelings.

He never told you how he was murdered and you never asked, figuring it would be too sensitive for him, and your hands balled into fists each time you remembered he was dead. Satoru is such a precious person who only has too much love to give, and it was completely unfair and outrageous that his life was taken away from him in a single flash. You’ve done your research at work, and only a few articles came up regarding his death. The case remains a mystery and still unsolved until it was completely closed due to lack of leads or suspects, but the police force highly suspected someone had broken in and committed homicide without theft, since not a single belonging of him got touched. They concluded that the murderer was drunk and lost, because he was a well-loved person in their campus, and they couldn’t find anyone who could possibly harbor abhorrence for the sweet boy.

But most of all, a part of you wants him to stay. He frequently asks you if you’ve talked to Suguru, and you always denied it, making up an excuse about how he was hard to find because he graduated years ago. ‘He’s hard to find,’ you would tell him one day, and ‘He doesn’t have social media,’ the next. Even though he told you he majored in Forensics, you couldn’t find anyone in the city. 

It’s a half lie. You never found Suguru, because you never looked for him in the first place.

You know it’s selfish of you to be this way, because you know Satoru wants to move on. He doesn’t say anything about it and keeps laughing instead, but sometimes when he thinks you’re too immersed in your work to notice him, you look at him. Being around you only reminds him of what he no longer has, and one look at him has you knowing he was someone who loved life. Satoru loved to travel with his friends, and he still had so many dreams left unfulfilled that made him feel empty yet desperate to be in the afterworld.

However, it is hard for you to let him go. 

No matter how much you try to fit in, deep inside, you know you will always be too different from the rest. You still struggled with socializing and didn’t have a single friend yet a hundred acquaintances, and you never realized how lonely you were until he came. His smile lit up the whole room and his laugh was melodious, and you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who cared so much for you. He liked to play games and pull pranks on you quite often, but underneath all that lies a kind heart.

Satoru knows exactly when his jokes go too far and apologizes right away, promising not to do something to upset you again and always doing something entirely new to cheer you up. On nights where you’re feeling absolutely drained or you carried home your anger at your co-workers, you go to sleep without taking off your makeup. When you wake, there’s used wipes in the bin, the hovering boy in your apartment proud of his work. Sometimes you forget to cover yourself in blankets too, plopping on top of the sheets almost lifelessly. It’s in those times that he shows how much he cares for you, and you soon wake up feeling warm surrounded by heavy blankets and freshly cooked breakfast.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were falling for him. It made interacting with him difficult, because you knew you had to let him go, yet you couldn’t.

He watches you carefully and gauges your reaction, waiting to see if you’ll finish the series with him or not. It’s a Wednesday night, or more accurately an early morning on Thursday and the launch happens in less than a week. Logically, it is much better to go back to sleep and refuse, but he is rocking his weight on his heels back and forth, and you realize perhaps he has been lonely since his death too.

“Fine,” you agree, and now he’s bouncing excitedly next to you on your couch as he keeps pressing buttons in your remote.

“You’re the best, you know that?” 

You only hum in response, and Satoru soon becomes lost in the show. Your eyes aren’t focused on the screen – on him rather. Placed on top of your fist lies your cheek as you study his side profile, trying to memorize the slope of his nose and the snow-white hair that keeps falling onto his eyes that makes him flip it to the side every now and then to watch the show. His right leg keeps bouncing up and down, a habit he had when he was anxiously anticipating something, and then stopping before his left leg went bouncing instead, meaning he didn’t like the situation.

Tearing your eyes away from him, you smile sadly when you realize his favorite character had been betrayed. “Did you see that? That freaking woman, he only loved her and she snitched him out like that?!”

Shrugging one shoulder and feeling your eyes become droopy, you reply, “Well, he’s a grave robber, Satoru, he was only nice to her because he liked her. She had every right to mislead him.”

“I don’t understand, but okay,” he relents and leans back, eyes closing before he intertwines his hands behind his neck and murmurs, “I hated the ending.”

“Not everyone gets happy endings,” you add grimly, watching the muscles underneath his hoodie flex at your comment. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes, and plucking up the courage, you breathe in sharply before slowly lowering yourself until your head is on his shoulder. 

You keep yourself still in order not to fall, and your eyes remain fixated on his hand, silently yearning to be able to touch him. If he was alive, would his skin be as warm as his presence? His hand flexes and trails from his lap until it’s beside yours, and you hear him swallow audibly before locking your fingers with his.

A tear falls down your face. You could feel him. 

Satoru hums a familiar tune, and you chuckle happily when you recognize it’s the song he always sings to you to make you sleep, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles.

His other hand tilts your chin upwards until you’re looking directly at his eyes. You hold in your breath, his lips only a centimeter away from yours. If you lean forward, you could kiss him… but you don’t. 

“Why are you crying?”

Because I don’t want you to go.

“Nothing,” you lie and offer a forced smile which he notices, but doesn’t comment about it. “I just feel happy.”

He nods slowly before leaning forward, and he gets so close that you can faintly see his freckles that dot across his cheeks lovingly, and your eyes flutter shut when his lips press against yours. Satoru sighs as if he’s been waiting too long to do that, and he is pushing against you so softly, so tenderly, that it almost fits the same atmosphere your heart creates. He is soft in everything he does, from his innocent features and smile that puts the stars to shame, to how he holds you and caresses you. His hand trails from your neck to pull you closer, and you moan when his tongue peeks out and playfully coaxes yours out to play. Tears are streaming down your face when you kiss him back slowly, tongues moving in sync as they danced harmoniously instead of battling each other for dominance. Caressing your face that fits perfectly in his hand, he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumbs. 

A moment passes before you two are breathing heavily with your foreheads pressed against each other, and the silence is broken when he speaks, his voice coming out raspy and out of breath. 

“Suguru… has been struggling long before I died.”

“What?”

“My best friend… he got into a rough patch. Had troubles with his parents, went down the wrong path, and met dangerous people. I’d heard rumors he was going around skipping class and talking to people I’ve never seen before, but I chose to ignore it. Suguru would’ve told me everything once he was ready. And I was stupid, you know? I saw it. I saw how he stopped smiling, how he’d lost weight. How his eyes no longer looked happy,” Satoru’s hands trembled, the blue of his eyes hauntingly dark. “One night, I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. I’ve never heard him that angry, and I got worried. I wanted to stop him from whatever he’ll end up doing so I invited him over but… Next thing I know, he came over here, drunk and high, and stabbed me until I bled to death.”

You gasp and shudder as you imagine the scene, Satoru lying on his bed as he waited anxiously for his friend. You see him smiling at Suguru excitedly because he’d actually come, but fear replaces it when his friend succumbs to the madness. The image of Satoru drowning in his own pool of blood made you clench your jaw.

“There had to be evidence left.”

Satoru smiles sadly as if to tell you it doesn’t bother him anymore, but you can’t shake it off. How can a man be so blinded in his own misery that he could take his own best friend’s life? “He was a forensics major; he knew how to cover up his crime.”

A pregnant pause fills the room as you furrow your brows, the sound of the cold wind tapping against your windows as you rack your head to make a decision. Now that you knew the truth, you had to tell the police about it, but how would they believe you if there was no evidence found? And if the case was cleared, and Suguru had finally moved on, that means...

“You can ask me to stay.”

“What?” You breathe out, looking at his eyes with sadness pooling in them. He’s smiling, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You pull away from him completely until he’s at an arm’s length away. He doesn’t look hurt by your action but he sighs, reaching out for you and pausing with his hand mid-air when you raise a palm to stop him.

He must’ve known you’re in love with him. Just as he also knows that once he leaves, you’ll be hurt, and he doesn’t want you to feel that.

You shake your head and stand up harshly. The tears now uncontrollable as you slam your bedroom door to his face. You’re slightly thankful he doesn’t come after you and leaves you alone instead. You needed time. Time to think, time to put his needs over yours - time to forget him. Rummaging through the documents on your desk, you keep looking for it until the polaroid is clutched between your fingers, and you silently place it in your handbag.

Tomorrow, you would set things straight.

Suguru Geto was a hard man to find. He’d fled from the spotlight as one of the  best students of his university after Satoru Gojo’s death. The image of his best friend, who was always in high spirits and laughed without a care in the world, covered in his own blood was a sight that scarred him for the rest of her life. 

But there was one more person who hadn’t moved on from that night.

Ieri Shoko, the woman who ran first at the hospital when Satoru’s parents were away for a business trip. She didn’t want to believe it at first. Satoru had always seemed so full of life, so in love with what the world had to offer. He’d been so young – it just couldn’t be. They had to be lying, right?

But when she finally saw her friend’s bloodied corpse on that cold hospital bed, she’d fallen apart.

She went to sleep crying to herself every night, regretting and blaming everything on herself. Her instinct told her it was Suguru who had done this to him. She barged into his dorm room, screaming and flailing, punching the taller man and effectively breaking his nose as she dragged him down by the collar. Suguru was already questioned by the police after Satoru’s murder, but his alibi of being in a bar was factual, and they had proven his innocence after checking surveillance cameras. He was only gone for a few minutes before he appeared on the dance floor all over again, and they believed him when he said he only disappeared to go to the restroom.

Presumably to wash the blood off his hands.

Shoko didn’t believe it. “Tell me you didn’t kill him, tell me!”

Suguru growls, frustrated at her for even accusing him of doing such a horrendous thing, and he feigns his innocence as he pries her hands away from his collar. “I didn’t do it, Ieri, I was at a bar!”

“Bullshit!” She screams, slamming a vase onto the floor and dropping down to the floor as sobs wrecked through her body. “I smelled your perfume the moment I walked in. I know it was you…”

His eyes widened, but he remained silent because she had always been smart and too observant for her own good. He shrugs his collar back into place and goes back to his bedroom, but not before darkly muttering, “I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill him…”

Four years later, and you’re sitting in front of Officer Kento, an intimidating man with empty eyes staring at you hardly, his face devoid of any emotion. He’d been the same officer who worked on Satoru’s case before it was closed. “And why should I believe you? Ghosts don’t exist.”

You snap your head up from your lap to him and scowl, “I just want to help you here, Officer.  You need to re-open this case.”

He abruptly stands up and slams his palm harshly against the desk, his eyes filled with rage as he stares down at you. “You don’t think I haven’t tried before?!”

“Well then, try harder!” You fumed, standing up. “If you don’t resolve this case, he’s going to remain here forever, lost and nowhere to go. Do you really want him to suffer even after his death?”

“How am I supposed to believe everything you say is true?”

Plucking out their polaroid from your bag and shoving it to his chest, you watch as he crumbles piece by piece. He holds the photo tentatively before cradling it to his chest, and what you presumed was a cold-hearted man was actually just a lost person.

“I don’t know why you closed that case, but it isn’t over. He’s still here, and he needs our help.”

You turn away from him to give him peace and wrap your fingers around the doorknob, “Suguru Geto is out there walking freely. You can still make a difference, Sir. It’s not too late.”

Happiness was a concept you believed to be fleeting.

One moment, you are giggling with the ghosts who tell you funny stories and whisper mischievously in your ear the correct answers in your pre-school days, and the next moment you are pressing a hand against your car windows, watching as the only people you considered friends are witnessing you leave without a goodbye.

That feeling comes back again and again, from little moments such as eating lunch with your high school friends and making empty promises to keep in touch after graduation, giggling when a cute boy comes by and asks for your number. But like any other moment in your life where you feel happy, that feeling dissipates as fast as it came.

The bell attached to the door chimes to signal a customer, and the cute florist you met on the first day you moved to this city, Choso, looks up from the pot he’s currently watering. Bowing politely, he sends a pleased smile upon the sight of you.

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and return the smile back, his musky perfume blending in well with the sweet aroma of flowers as he stops in front of you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize sheepishly, “Our latest branch just opened downtown, so I was a bit busy with that.”

“Oh, you work for that bookshop everyone’s been talking about non-stop?” You nod and laugh at his question, proud of yourself that the new opening had been successful. The state campus was only three bus rides away, and with the extensive amount of books your bookstore offered, along with its affordable prices, everyone’s been talking about it. “I’m proud of you, it was a success,” he commends, rubbing his dirties hands on his apron before opening the door for you. What can I get you?”

Personally, you thought Choso was a bit too rugged to be working in a floral shop. He always seemed to carry himself in such an awkward manner and had an authoritative yet welcoming aura to him, his shy smiles the highlights of your day. “I want to give it to my friend. Today’s their special day.”

“I see,” Choso’s eyes are already scanning the plethora of flowers he has in his shop, his brows pinching together in thought. “Can you tell me a little bit about them? It’d help to make their bouquet more personal.”

A smile makes its way to your face. “They’re… bright, carefree, innocent, and pure. They almost seem like an angel, if you ask me. I was also thinking about something that represents young love, and… new beginnings?”

You have absolutely no idea what you’re saying. The words coming out of your mouth are beyond your control. You’re sure you’re making a fool out of yourself, but Choso nods understandingly, frows burrowed before he snaps his fingers and turns to you. “White roses describe all of those, but if you want, I can whip up more flowers for you.”

He makes a move to get his scissors and starts listing off flowers with the same meanings, but you run up to him and not so accidentally wrap your hands around his to get him to stop. His eyes widen at your close proximity. You clear your throat and take a step backward, fighting the urge to smile when his cheeks are dusted a fine pink. “White roses itself are fine, thank you.”

He gulps and heads towards the back door, coming out later with a bouquet of white roses. You reach for your wallet before his arm wraps around your wris, his smile wobbly and hesitant. “It’s on the house. You can pay me back with a cup of coffee next time.”

Eyebrows rising at his smoothness, you gratefully accept the flowers and cradle it near to your chest. “A cup of coffee it is.”

Choso chuckles shyly and ducks his head, and you leave the shop with a wave of your hand before walking further and further. Your surroundings shift from the high-rise building and busy streets to a hill covered in trees sprawled out everywhere, flowers blooming and withering at every corner. Sitting down on the soil with your legs crossed, you place the bouquet in front of his headstone, his framed polaroid with Suguru standing in front of you. 

It’s been exactly seven days since you last saw Satoru.

After countless sleepless nights of phone calls from Officer Kento, he’d finally cracked the case with your help. Suguru Geto was found. He’d confessed to all his crimes, his handsome face weary yet relieved. It seemed he’d never once forgotten about that night when he betrayed his friend, and just before he was ushered behind bars, he turned to you. You wished you felt anger towards him for what he did, but there was only sadness. Only regret in his eyes. He looked so tired, so hopeless.

“Thank you,” he said softly, “Thank you for finding me.”

A nod was all you could give. Suguru felt so familiar, yet so strange. You’ve heard tons of stories about him from Satoru, all about their happiest moments together. He’d been his closest friend, the one he shared so many dreams with, and the one who knew him the most. Maybe he knew Satoru wouldn’t fight back once his demons consumed him. Maybe when Suguru was holding his friend’s bloodied hand in the night, he knew – Satoru was never mad at him. He only wanted to save his friend. Maybe he knew Satoru wasn’t completely dead yet, not when he lived in everyone’s heart, and most especially yours.

That night when you returned home, the apartment felt colder than ever. Normally, it would mean a ghost lingered. But there was no longer the sound of Satoru’s humming, and the dishes were left half-washed in your sink. And for the first time in your life, you hated your eyes and how it gave you the ability to see the traces he left behind. 

Because you wished you had enough time to say goodbye. You wish you had told him everything, but the thought of being another tether to the living realm weighed down on you. You couldn’t do that to him. He had to go. For Satoru to truly move into the next life, you had to close your heart and forget him. Just as Suguru’s forgiven himself, and just as Shoko’s accepted her friend’s death - you too had to say goodbye. 

Tears clouded your vision.

The white remnants of his soul sparkled in your apartment. For the last time, you watched as the blue of his hoodie finally disappeared, his hands scrubbing your dishes away fading into nothingness. The plate drops and breaks. Satoru stood, his legs vanishing bit by bit as he saw the running water through his hands. He’d wanted to return your apartment to the way it was before he’d met you, but he knew – his time was running out. He didn’t have energy left to turn everything off.

The water floods your apartment. The new series he’d dearly loved still plays on the TV. 

But he was here – hugged by the earth and decorated with flowers, smiling at you from far away even when you could no longer see him. Placing the bouquet of white roses down at his grave, you smiled at the photo they’d taken months before he died. He still looked just as beautiful – all wide smiles, kind eyes, and soft hands.

To you, he was still alive in your heart.

“I’ll see you around, Satoru.”

[girlgenius1111]

adrenaline junkie

r loves to do dangerous things, relishing in the thrill, the rush of ecstasy that rushes through her. until her overprotective teammates find out about some of her hobbies. and then others find out. it doesn't go great.

disclaimer- as has been established, i do not have BDE, so i haven't ever ridden a motorcycle. or done like most of the things r does in this.

At first, it was only small things that the girls noticed. How you would climb up on stuff and jump off, prompting intense scoldings from your captains and the coaches. If this was any indication as to how they'd act if they learned about your... more intense hobbies, you were pretty determined not to let them find out.

There were different rules for professional athletes than people who's jobs didn't rely on their ability to walk. While it wasn't in your contract, you weren't supposed to do anything physically dangerous. No motorcycles, no skydiving, no cliff jumping, no zip lining, no swimming with sharks. It was all very discouraged.

You were an adult, though, a whole entire individual who could safely decide to do dangerous things for fun. Your teammates still thought of you as a kid, Alexia and Lucy especially. And sure, you were young, but completely capable of making rational decisions for yourself.

You'd had a couple close calls; as big of a city Barcelona was, your teammates all lived near you, and it only made sense that it was only a matter of time before you were caught. Your motorcycle was parked in the building's parking lot, but none of your teammates knew that it was yours when they came over. At least, not at first.

-----

You'd decided to use your bike one morning to go grab coffee. The place was too far to walk, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the fresh air. It was a few days into the holiday break, so you knew that a lot of your teammates would be out of Barcelona, at home with their families. This is why you didn't worry about going to the coffee shop that a lot of your teammates frequented. Which would turn out to be a mistake.

You'd had to circle the block the coffee shop was on before you could get a spot right in front. You pulled in, turning the engine off and taking off your helmet, leaving your jacket on. When you turned your attention to the coffee shop, or rather the little tables outside of it, you froze.

There, at one of the little tables with their coffees, sat Ingrid and Frido, jaws practically on the floor as they stared at you. Deciding to play it cool, hoping that if you acted like you hadn't done anything wrong, they'd be alright about it, you walked over to their table.

"Hey guys! I didn't know either of you were still in town." Ingrid was supposed to take Mapi with her to Norway, (Mapi had been complaining about the upcoming cold weather for weeks, but every time she even mentioned spending Christmas with Ingrid's family, she got this disgusting, love sick look on her face). Frido was also supposed to head home to Sweden.

Their only response was to gawk at you, stunned into silence.

"Guys?" You said, playfully waving a hand in front of their faces. This seemed to bring them out of their temporary stress-induced coma. Ingrid stood up, almost knocking the whole table over in the process.

"Are you CRAZY?" She shouted, hands flapping in the air as she spoke, gesturing wildly. Frido's mouth was opening and closing, as if she had so many things to yell, she couldn't settle on one.

"About...?" You said, looking between her and Frido, pretending that you didn't know very well what they were upset about.

"YOU KNOW WHAT ABOUT!" Ingrid yelled, pointing a finger insistently behind you.

"Ingrid, you're kind of making a scene." You mumbled, looking out of the corner of your eye at the pedestrians nearby staring at the Norwegian. She only scoffed in response, hands on her hips, waiting for you to explain yourself.

"You know who is going to make a scene? Alexia, when she finds out her perfect, precious, protégée rides motorcycles in her free time." Frido said finally. Your cool demeanor vanished.

"No, no, Frido you cannot tell her, she would kill me. Kill me dead. And if she didn't Lucy would. Actually, I'm pretty sure half of the team would kill me. Besides Pina. And Mapi."

Ingrid lets out an indignant noise. "Sell the motorcycle and we won't tell."

"You want me... to sell it? Come on, guys, it's not even that dangerous." You try, faltering when both girls rise to their feet again.

"NOT THAT DANGEROUS?" They shout together, and you throw your hands in the air, cutting them off before their lecture can really begin.

"Alright, alright, I'll sell it. You guys are boring. And you better not tell anyone about this. No one. Not even Mapi." You said, making them promise they wouldn't speak a word of it.

They insisted on driving home with you, following your bike in Ingrid's car. They honked whenever anyone came even close to you, and every time you caught a glimpse of them through their windows, Frido was staring at you like a cop tailing a murder suspect. At one point, you were going maybe 5 over the speed limit, and Frido stuck her head out the window, instructing you to slow down immediately.

If it wasn't so incredibly annoying, it probably would have been funny.

You parked the bike elsewhere, now, in case either of the Nordic girls decided to check and make sure the motorcycle was really gone.

-----

Mapi must have cracked Ingrid, you're sure of it. And you knew, too, that she only told Alexia on you because she was jealous that you had a motorcycle and she didn't. Of course, Ingrid thought you'd gotten rid of it. You hadn't. And Alexia, being Alexia, was suspicious enough to figure out that you still owned the motorcycle. She'd come over, accompanied by Lucy and Irene, completely unannounced. You'd let her in, somewhat confused. She snooped around without telling you what she was looking for, before triumphantly holding up the keys to your bike. They were hanging on the hook where they always were, but no one had ever thought to pay attention to them before.

Alexia yelled at you like she'd never yelled before, about the dangers of riding a motorcycle, about lying to her, about not listening when the older girls had tried to keep you safe. She was going on and on, and while Irene and Lucy had started off looking like they agreed with her, they were also definitely over the lecture after a few minutes.

You were in hot water with Alexia as soon as the words left your mouth; you weren't stupid, you knew how she would react to what you had just said, but you had always been hotheaded and her hovering and nagging had gotten to you today.

"You don't need to know about everything in my life, Alexia! I've gone skydiving, and I haven't died. I swam with sharks, and didn't die. Cliff jumping? Zip lining? Bungee jumping? Drag racing? I have done all of that, all since I've been with this team, and I am completely fine. You aren't my mother, and I don't need you to act like you are. I don't need your opinion on everything I do, I don't need you watching my every move. I can do what I want." You snapped. Alexia took a step back from where she'd been standing, a look of hurt flashing across her face.

"Y/n, you're way out of line," Lucy said, looking angry again. Irene nodded her head in agreement.

"No, no. She's right. I'm not her mother. She can do what she wants." Alexia said softly. She dropped the keys onto the counter, and walked out your door without another word.

You were flooded with guilt. Alexia had been more of a parent figure than anyone else in your life had ever bothered to be. You were grateful for it, you really were. She was part of the reason you were the person you were today, having spent the last of your teenage years on the team with her. She'd always watched out for you, always took the time to make sure you were okay. She'd expressed to you, before, her worry that she was overstepping, doing more than you wanted her to do. You'd thrown that right back in her face.

"You need to apologize. That wasn't fair of you." Irene said coldly.

"I just-"

"-No. You and I both know everything that Alexia has done for you, gone out of her way to do for you. She loves and cares about you, obviously you doing stupid and dangerous things is going to bother her." Irene's voice was deadly serious, arms crossed over her chest as she stared you down.

"When you moved here from England, do you know that Alexia called Leah, and talked to her for hours trying to get to know you, and make the transition as easy as possible?" Lucy cut in.

"When you got that concussion last season and you were in the hospital, she sat awake, all night, next to your bed, too worried to rest." Irene continued.

"She has an England shirt with your name on it that she wears to watch you play, did you know that? No one is allowed to see her in it, but she doesn't miss any of your games for England. Not one."

"Your first Christmas here, she went all out with Christmas decorations. You were living with her then, and she wanted the day to be special, even if it wasn't the way she normally did it."

They were switching off, seemingly having endless examples of all the things Alexia had done for you. You were blinking, hard, memories of how easy Alexia had made everything for you flashing through your mind. Lucy spoke more gently.

"You were 16 when you got here, y/n. She has done more for you than anyone. You're her kid whether you like it or not. It doesn't matter that you're 19 now, it doesn't matter that you don't live with her anymore."

"She deserves better than you lying to her about your dangerous hobbies, and she deserves better than how you just treated her. Fix it." Irene finished, tone still just as cold as it had been. She was, herself, rather protective of Alexia, you knew. Her reaction was completely warranted, you knew that too.

Irene turned then too, walking out your door and shutting it behind her. Only Lucy remained, staring at you critically.

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." You said weakly.

"I know. You did, though."

"I don't know why I said any of that, I was just annoyed."

"You're young, it's a young person thing to not think before you speak. You do it all the time, normally it doesn't end as poorly as this did." Lucy tried to joke, hating the sad frown on your face, even if you probably deserved it. You just shook your head, looking up at her as a single tear fell down your cheek.

"What do I do, Luce?"

"Give it a couple hours, and then go apologize. And sell the damn motorcycle. Or I'll remove the engine or something." At this, you did smile, if only weakly. "C'mere," she said gruffly, pulling you into a tight hug. "It'll be fine, kid. Alexia would forgive you for anything."

You hoped she was right.

-----

You stood at Alexia's door, about a half hour later. You'd meant to wait as long as Lucy had said, but you couldn't do it. You were fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for her to answer, not really sure what would greet you.

You'd seen Alexia mad, obviously. And you'd seen her sad, though less often. But you'd never seen her sad because of something you'd done. It made you feel sick, that you'd repaid her years of kindness with rude comments that completely disregarded how much she had done for you, because you were slightly annoyed with her behavior. If she was sad, you weren't sure how you could fix it.

When she answered the door, you were stunned, stunned, to see Alexia's eyes slightly red and puffy, like she'd been crying.

"Hola pequeña," she said roughly, wiping at her face as if to rid it of the evidence as to how upset she was.

"Can I come in?" You asked.

"Of course," she said, stepping to the side immediately to let you in. She led you to the living room, and you both took seats on the couch. The Alexia sitting next to you was not one you were used to seeing; you could tell how hurt she was by what you said. You could also tell she was trying to pretend she wasn't hurt, whether because she didn't want to make you feel bad, or because she was embarrassed at the obvious and uncharacteristic display of emotion. You chewed on your lip for a minute, trying to figure out how to apologize.

"Ale, I'm so sorry," you began.

"It's fine," she said, brushing your apology off. She tried to smile at you, but it was weak, and it didn't reach her eyes. It was going to be hard for you to get out what you needed to say, you knew. You weren't good at expressing your emotions, and you'd never really admitted to Alexia what an important role she had played in your life. You tried to show her through actions, but your words earlier had undone anything you'd accomplished in terms of letting her know how much you appreciated her.

"No, it's not fine. I was completely unfair to you. I didn't mean what I said, not at all. I... you've been... for me..." You trailed off, words getting jumbled. "I don't know why this is so hard for me to say."

"It's alright, pequeña, I get it," Alexia said, and she did sound less upset, like she knew what you were trying to say.

"I'm not used to having people in my life that care. I mean, I am now, because I have you and the team, but it still surprises me sometimes when I do something, and people... people care about what happens to me. You've always cared, though. Even when I was an angsty 16 year old with an attitude problem, and I didn't want you to care, you did anyway."

You take a big breath, trying to steady your voice. "You've been more of a parent to me than anyone. I value your opinion, I really appreciate that you care enough to be mad at me when I do something stupid. I'm sorry I said otherwise, because that wasn't true. I was just frustrated, but you deserve better than that. I'm really sorry about what I said, and I'm sorry that I don't express how much I appreciate everything you've done for me."

You take a peak at Alexia once you've finished talking, and find her looking out the window, jaw set tightly. At first, you think she's upset about something that you said. You see her lip wobble slightly, though, before she bites down on it, and realize what's actually going on. Your captain schools her features, before turning to you.

"Thank you for apologizing. I... I was hurt by what you said. I can't help but worry about you, and I know I probably go overboard with it sometimes, but I look at you and see the scared 16 year old you were when you got here, and all I want to do is protect you."

Alexia shuffled closer to you on the couch. "And I know you appreciate me, pequeña. You might not say it, but you show it. You don't need to thank me for caring about you, though. You shouldn't ever feel like you have to thank anyone for that. You deserve love, pequeña, I hope you know that."

You fall somewhat unsteadily into her arms, which wrap around you in a comforting embrace. You blink your tears away, wondering how your apology to Alexia turned into her comforting you, but that was the magic of Alexia Putellas.

"Y/n?” She says, chin resting on top of your head.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really do all those things you said you did?" She sounds slightly ill at the idea, and you wince, wishing you hadn't overshared all of those details.

"Yeah," you answer meekly.

"Dios mio," she mumbles.

"I'll sell the motorcycle," you say placatingly. Alexia lets out a short laugh at that, pulling back from you to look you in the eye.

"I know you will. You aren't ever riding that thing again."

"Well..." You said, unable to stop yourself from glancing towards where you had parked said motorcycle.

"You did not... drive it here... to apologize to me..." Alexia choked out, baffled.

"I did," she groans in exasperation. "But only because I'm taking it back to the dealership right after this. I called, they're gonna buy it back off me." You smile sheepishly at her.

She glares at you. "You better be telling the truth."

"I am, Ale, I promise." You rise, heading back towards the door.

"Good. Off you go, then. Get rid of that deathtrap. And wear your helmet. And drive under the speed limit. And stick to side streets, not busy ones. And-"

"-Alexia, I've been riding it for a year, I'll be fine." You say, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The blonde looks genuinely anxious at the idea of you driving off on it. "I promise, the dealership isn't far from here, and I'll text you once I'm back home."

She nods, looking at the motorcycle parked outside with an expression full of disdain. "Drive safe," she says finally, and you promise that you will.

-----

You did drive safe. It wasn't your fault that someone ran a red light, or that it just happened to occur right as you were in the middle of the intersection. It wasn't your fault that the car practically t-boned you, the last minute braking doing very little to ease the impact. It wasn't your fault that you were thrown off the bike, sliding and rolling painfully along the pavement until you came to a stop several feet away.

It wasn't your fault.

Still, as you looked up at the sky, feeling yourself begin to lose consciousness, you knew that the fact that it wasn't your fault would not get you out of trouble with Alexia. She couldn't kill you if you were already dead, though, you thought. That was horrifying, and you jerked your eyes back open, trying to stay awake. It was no use, though, and your eyes closed against your will, head rolling weakly to the side on the concrete as spots flooded your vision, until everything around you was dark and quiet.

-----

HA.

part 2 tomorrow :)

[museanddream]

Heaven - part 2 || Ona Batlle x Lucy Bronze x reader

Warnings: 🔞 || threesome, poly relationship, oral sex, strap-ons, degrading language, bottom!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2 of 3

Part 1 here

Ona bends to kiss you, slow and sweet, then gently coaxes you onto your hands and knees. Lucy has kicked off her boxers and now sits completely bare against the headboard, legs slightly parted as she waits for you.

“Come up here,” Lucy says.

You crawl up the bed until you’re kneeling between her legs. Lucy pushes herself off the headboard, abs tensing as she does, and grabs your jaw with one hand. Her grip is rougher than Ona’s was, hard enough to remind you who’s in charge, but the thumb that she rubs across the seam of your lips is gentle in comparison.

“We gotta find a good use for that filthy mouth, huh?” she murmurs, her gaze flicking down to your lips.

You nod, staying silent in case you say something that riles Lucy up even further.

“You’re gonna eat me out while Ona fucks you from behind,” Lucy tells you, letting go of your jaw. Her gaze flicks up to Ona, before she adds a second instruction, this time for the Spaniard. “She doesn’t come until I do.”

Ona nods obediently, jaw clenched, and helps guide you into position. Your knees are near the edge of the mattress, Ona standing behind you at the foot of the bed, your ass in the air ready to be filled by her cock again. In front of you, Lucy is relaxing against the cushions once more, legs spread so you can see the perfect lips shining with the evidence of her arousal.

Before you can get to work, Ona pulls you upright, wrapping her arms around you from behind as the toy presses against your ass and her mouth finds your neck. You tilt your head as your eyelashes flutter shut, giving her access to a wider expanse of skin, and she sends one hand south across your stomach until her fingers dip between your legs again. You’re so wet there’s no friction at all as her fingertips slide over your clit, taunting your entrance before sliding back up across your stomach, leaving a wet smear behind.

“Ona, please…”

“You heard Lucy.” Ona’s voice is nothing more than a low rumble in your ear, but it still has you pushing your hips back against her harness. “You get her off, then I’ll reward you. Does that sound good, cariño?”

You nod and let Ona guide you back down onto all fours. She’s so careful with you, stroking your back as you find a comfortable position between Lucy’s legs. That’s one of the big differences between them. Lucy likes to be rougher, likes to assert her control by throwing you around the bedroom or pinning you down with her strength. Ona is stronger than you too, could probably even give Lucy a run for her money, not that Lucy would ever admit to it or let her try, but so often chooses to be gentle instead.

Lucy notices too and calls Ona out.

“This is the problem, you know. This is why she acts out. You’re too fucking nice to her when she’s being a brat.”

Though you can’t see Ona’s face behind you, you can picture the smirk on her face from the tone of her voice as she points out, “I’m not the one she told to get fucked.”

Lucy’s eyes drop to meet yours, looking at the way you’re on your hands and knees between her legs, patiently waiting for instruction.

“Go on then,” she tells you. “Get on with it. This was your idea.”

Her voice is devoid of any emotion as her eyes bore into you, as if being eaten out by you is a chore she has to endure rather than a pleasure, but instead of putting you off, it only spurs you on, desperate to prove to Lucy that she should be craving you and the way you can make her feel.

You lower yourself onto your forearms and nuzzle your face into the inside of one of Lucy’s strong thighs, pressing a couple of kisses to the soft skin there, before you turn your head back and run your tongue through Lucy’s arousal. She’s soaked, and as you lick through her and hum at the taste, you feel pride swell in your chest. Lucy might pretend to be unbothered by the prospect of you going down on her, might put on a show of bravado and dominance and act like she’s in control, but the wetness collected by your tongue is evidence that she is affected by it all. Whether she’s turned on from watching Ona fucking you or if it’s just the power of having you willing to do pretty much anything just to be allowed to come, it doesn’t matter because she wants you.

Even though it’s against your own interests, you start slow, teasing Lucy with your tongue. You avoid her clit, you swirl around her glistening hole without actually dipping inside. Revenge, you could say, for the way she denied your own pleasure earlier.

But you don’t have the same resolve as Lucy, that’s probably why she’s dominating this encounter while you’re the one on your hands and knees with your ass in the air, because you can’t deny her for too long. Not because she makes you, not explicitly anyway, but because there’s more power in unravelling Lucy’s composure than there is in teasing her.

Your tongue gets more precise, finding the spots that you know drive her wild, settling into more of a rhythm. Your lips wrap around her clit, soft suction as you press the flat of your tongue against her, before licking down and curling the tip of your tongue inside her where her arousal gathers.

Apart from the wetness coating your lips and chin, there’s no sign that she’s moved by the way you work your tongue against her most intimate area at all.

It bothers you to no end that Lucy is so calm while you’re a desperate mess between her strong thighs.

You’re so focused on trying to elicit some kind of reaction from Lucy that you almost forget about Ona and her strap behind you.

Almost.

“Ready?” Ona’s voice is low as she speaks to you.

You can’t reply, not with your mouth occupied by Lucy, but you know that Ona is an ass girl and push your own up further into her hand to encourage her. The fingers of one hand squeeze the flesh appreciatively, while those on the other dip back between your legs, smearing your copious arousal around until you feel the digits replaced by the familiar silicone of the strap’s blunt head.

Ona pushes in, not forcefully, but without the same care to stretch you out slowly that she used before. The ache as she slides in and bottoms out is a pleasant one that has you humming against Lucy.

“She feels good, huh?” Lucy asks. You might be imagining the slight rasp to her voice but you feed off it, knowing that your tongue must finally be making her feel something.

You can’t answer without lifting your mouth from Lucy’s cunt and you don’t dare, but you let out a little moan of assent.

Behind you, Ona starts moving, only pulling out halfway but still managing to nudge that spot inside you with the toy’s blunt head on each slow thrust.

“Look at you,” Lucy continues. Your eyes find hers and are met with a strange look, her eyes hazy with lust but a scorning expression on her face. “Being used at both ends. Pathetic.”

If your tongue was not busy, you’re sure it would fire a sharp quip right back at Lucy, some clever retort to try and prove that you’re not just in this position because she’s put you there, that you like being the sole focus of their combined attention. But your hot head and smart mouth are what got you into this predicament in the first place and you don’t even want to dare to imagine how long Lucy will deny you from coming if you were to make even the tiniest slip up and question her authority again.

Behind you, Ona’s hand strokes your ass as she fucks into you, the gentle touch a contrast to Lucy’s harsh words. But if you’re honest, the cold way that Lucy addresses you is just as responsible for the delicious pressure building in your core as Ona’s strap is.

Ona fucks you steadily, hips less hurried than they were when she had you on your back. The pace shouldn’t be enough to get you there on its own, or at least it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t already been teased mercilessly, first by Ona’s tongue and fingers, then by her strap.

But something about this whole situation, being used by them both, having your own pleasure held ransom by Lucy and her willing accomplice Ona, has you hurtling towards the edge far quicker than should be possible.

You lift your mouth from Lucy’s pussy and gasp out, “Stop. I’m close. I’m gonna…”

Ona pulls out, leaving you pulsing around nothing. The ebb of the incoming orgasm washes away and leaves you feeling so frustrated that you almost wonder if you would’ve been better off coming without permission, inevitably facing the wrath of yet another punishment from Lucy but at least getting a little relief in the process.

As it is, you’re left more worked up than ever. You need to come, need to get Lucy off so that you can come.

For the first time, you start to regret the brattiness that got you in this predicament. Would they have let you come by now if you’d kept your mouth shut, if you’d laid obediently between them instead of telling Lucy to get fucked?

“Poor thing,” Lucy says, though there’s no sympathy in her dark gaze, nor the twist of her lips as she looks down at you between her legs. “Just desperate to come, aren’t you?”

She pauses, but you know the question is rhetorical and she soon continues.

“Poor little slut.”

Ona’s warm hand on the base of your spine is a stark contrast to the coldness of Lucy’s words. Her touch is kind, though you can’t help but think that it would be kinder of her to let you come. She won’t though, knowing very well that it could just as easily be her in your position if she enables you, sympathising with you just enough to know what it feels like to be on Lucy’s bad side when she’s in one of these moods but not enough to actually help you out of the mess you’ve caught yourself in.

Ona knows the rules. As do you - Lucy comes, then you do.

“Can I use my fingers on you?” You dare to ask the question, knowing it would speed up the process.

Lucy shakes her head.

“No, I don’t think so. I want your mouth. Want you to prove to me that your tongue is good for more than just mouthing off when you’re being a brat.”

You groan, partly in frustration and partly because Ona chooses that moment to sheath the toy inside you once more. You have no doubt that you’d be able to get Lucy off in less than a couple of minutes with your fingers, satisfying the criteria to be allowed an orgasm of your own, but Lucy doesn’t come as easily from being eaten out.

That’s not to say that she can’t come, you’re just going to have to work a little harder for it.

Something that’s going to be really difficult if Ona keeps bottoming out inside you like that.

Ona’s thrusts are shallower now and she probably thinks that she’s doing you a favour by not pounding into you with as much vigour, but it’s actually the reverse. Because the bulb to the cock’s head means there’s a slight ridge that is rubbing inside you, providing perfect pressure exactly where you don’t need it, not if you’re going to get Lucy off with your tongue first.

But just when you’re about to call out for Ona to pause again, one of Lucy’s hands finds the back of your head, winding her fingers through strands of hair as she pulls your face tighter against you.

She’s close.

“That’s it.” Lucy’s voice comes out as a growl, and when you glance up her body, you see that her eyes are shut in bliss, her other hand stretched out to grasp one of the slats on the headboard, her abdomen rippling as she bucks her hips against your willing tongue. “Right there. Let me use you. Want to come in that filthy little mouth.”

Lucy’s words have you clenching around Ona’s cock and you know she can feel the extra resistance from the way that her hand squeezes your ass apreciatively. You’re more than happy for Lucy to use your mouth, lacking the agency to move much yourself with Lucy’s hand in your hair directing you where she wants you. Her hips are moving more urgently now, practically riding the lower half of your face, smearing her arousal across your lips and chin, but you just let her, firming up your tongue to give her something to grind against.

It takes less than half a minute like that for Lucy to tumble over the edge. The only warning you get is the fist that tightens in your hair just before she comes, followed by the low groan that spills from her throat as her hips twitch against your mouth.

Ona has fallen still behind you too, cock still nestled in your cunt, probably distracted by the view in front of her and you don’t even blame her. Lucy is beautiful as she comes, eyes squeezed shut but her face the perfect portrait of pleasure. It’s something you never get tired of, watching either of your girls coming and knowing that you’re the one who made it happen, but there’s something extra special about unravelling Lucy, something about this brief moment where she’s not the one in control, that you don’t think you’ll ever not be awestruck by.

You’ve fulfilled your end of the deal but you know better than to assume you’re allowed to come now.

“Please?”

Lucy’s lashes flutter open and her hazy eyes gaze down to where you’re between her legs. The pause drags on just long enough that you think Lucy is going to be cruel enough to continue to deny you, even after making her come, but then her eyes flit up to Ona behind you.

They’re doing it again, communicating silently over you like you’re not even there, It should be embarrassing, degrading, the way they treat you like you’re a toy to be used for their pleasure rather than a person with your own desires and urges, except for the fact that it’s such a ridiculous turn-on that you’re sure you must be getting wetter around Ona’s cock.

You stay still, quiet, obedient, desperate, until finally -

“Go on,” Lucy says to Ona, with a sharp nod. “But make sure it’s good for you too. Wanna watch you both come.”

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || SPECIAL SHORT STORY ||

paring(s) -> ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> SUGGETIVE note -> HAPPY HALLOWEEN !!

y/n’s perspective

“I really wonder how they’re older than I am,” Jongho said as I laughed. San and Wooyoung were arguing about what I should dress for Halloween, which was a bit silly since they fought against putting cat ears or fox ears on my head. 

Yeosang just smiled at their stupid behavior… mainly with evil intent because he and Seonghwa already agreed on my outfit and had it in their room away from the two fighting. 

“y/n-nie why not a dog–” “SHUT UP YOU OVERGROWN WOLF!” Woosan yelled at Mingi, who, at the sudden shout and growls, hid behind Yunho who only laughed at the sight.

“Why does it matter anyway? The two of you have the matching couple outfit” Yunho pointed out and the two glared at him. “Aren’t you going as a spider?” San said and Wooyoung laughed. “What a pathetic outfit–” “y/n! They're mean!” Yunho yelled while now going towards me on the couch hugging my waist and placing his head on my lap. 

“Let them handle their immaturity themselves,” Seonghwa added as Hongjoong laughed beside him. The only ones who knew about the Halloween outfit were the two tigers and Mastermind doberman. 

“y/n I’m your first hybrid–” “I knew her longer!” The two argued and I sighed. While looking at the trio who only looked away from me wanting to enjoy their fight more. 

“You like my costume right?” Yunho pouted and I smiled. He was going to be dressed as spiderman. In a normal outfit with the one piece suit under the clothes to reveal in a dramatic fashion. “Of course I do!” I said and he smiled and wagged his tail. 

“I want to dress as Spiderman!” Yunho came over to yell happily. “Oh?” I asked knowing where this was going… Since he got into video games he’s also gotten into comics, especially Spiderman comics. It was… cute seeing the big golden retriever wag his tail happily while reading a comic or even watching anything Spiderman related in front of the TV.  “But I thought we were gonna do a matching outfit!” Mingi asked, pouting at the older canine hybrid who signed at his friend’s distress. “You can be venomous?” he asked and Mingi scoffed. “That stupid alien, no thanks” he pouted and Yunho really really really wanted to be dressed as the superhero. “Mingi… you don’t have to match with Yunho? You can be anything you want that maybe Yunho wouldn't dress as anyway?” I asked and his mind went blank. “I don’t know! I just know I would rather have Jongho threaten me than be dressed as a stupid alien” he said and I laughed. For some reason… his irrational fear from Jongho yelling at him that one time traumatized him for life. “Oh! Let me and Yeosang choose!” Yunho said and he looked at his friend skeptical.  “Don’t dress me stupid?” “I promise!

Mingi… Well, his outfit did end up being picked by Yeosang and Yunho… While Yeosang liked to tease the wolf… Yunho was absolutely serious about what they ended up choosing. Yeosang laughed at the princess outfit he chose… but Yunho told me to buy it happily and with his eyes sparkling that I couldn’t say no.  So I said to myself I'd take Mingi to choose his outfit instead but I didn’t expect his reaction to simply smile softly at Yunho and say it was perfect. Truthfully… When Yunho pulled it out everyone was shocked he was being serious and even laughed until Mingi spoke up and said he loved it when everyone then had to pretend they never thought of it as a joke.  So Mingi was gonna be a pink princess with a tiara and everything for Halloween with his canine best friend as spiderman… how truly opposites they were. 

“y/nnie! y/nnie! I wanna dress up with Sannie!” Woyoung yelled excitedly when he heard we were celebrating this year. He grinned and looked at so many costumes while he simply let him choose what they would be. Until he found something… Harry potter. While it was now fall Harry potter was now back in season in which he and San binged it all.  And then… they found sorting quizzes… “HOW THE HELL ARE YOU A SLYTHERIN?!” Wooyoung yelled when he saw the words Slythern in the sorting quiz that San took. He was sure he would’ve been a Hufflepuff but no… he made the panther take so many quizzes until each time it was Slytherin.  Wooyoung of course was a Gryffindor.  So the two were dressing up as mages… but for some reason when it came to asking me what I would wear, I was gonna tell them Yeosang and Seonghwa said they have an outfit for me… that they got too excited and cut me off saying I should be a hybrid this year. Which I thought of as dehumanizing at first but the two were so excited I figured out it was primal for them… it's like when San put me in Wooyoung’s collar that one time. They wanted to see in a… different way. 

“Halloween? I hate the holiday” Hongjoong said when he saw the Halloween decorations Wooyoung mass ordered. “Hmm? Is it because of the…” I trailed and he nodded. I was gonna say he didn’t have to celebrate when Seonghwa came into the living room where he also saw the decorations. “Oh, are we celebrating? Are we also dressing up?” he asked, actually excited with his tail swishing behind him. “Huh? Oh, Wooyoung and San so far have taken the intuitive approach and ordered their outfits already, while I know Yuno and Mingi are thinking about theirs "I said and Soenghwa nodded while looking at Hongjoong.  “Should we dress up? Maybe we can match?” he asked his fellow tiger who chuckled and reluctantly agreed. “Ok, why not?” he asked as I was confused at his sudden acceptance. “If it makes you uncomfortable–” “It's fine really… the circus can ruin everything about my life,” he said and I smiled at his sudden response.  “Circus? Hmm… we can even dress up as clowns” he laughed and I was shocked he said that while even Hongjoong laughed. “I’d want to be something scarier than a clown”  he suggested so why did we end with their suggestions…  Hongjoong wanted to be a pirate of all things which also wasn't scary like he said… while Seonghwa, I think he’s been online too much and showed me the sudden phenomenon of hot men behind the Ghost Face mask and wanting to be Ghost Face… I’d be lying if I didn’t find it a bit attractive. 

“Yeosang said that I’m like Gloomy Bear and that I should dress up as him?” Jongho said and I didn’t want to laugh. I really didn’t… but Yeosnag hex to have been joking when he suddenly said that.  Then again… he is a bear hybrid with an obsession with fruit. While gloomy is a domesticated bear with a love for pomegranates.  “It's a pink bear Jongho,” I said and he scoffed. “So he was making fun of me again,” he said but signed and huffed. “I guess I'll do it… I have nothing else to dress up as and I don’t wanna be a vampire like Seonghwa-hyung was suggesting” he said and I smiled.  He respected Yeosang the most… so he decided on doing hybrid safe fur paint while simply being gonna wear white clothing with a blood platter, a simple outfit, and effortless. 

“How did you get Seonghwa to agree to you doing this?” I asked and Yeosang smirked. He wanted to be a wolf… while he was a canine hybrid he wanted to be dressed as the Big Bad Wolf. In simple black clothing while adding gray spray paint to his ears and tail with a pink bonnet on his head. It was cute when you didn't see his face… which he was gonna add fake blood on his canine teeth and face while wanting to dress me up as Red Riding Hood.  Seonghwa took charge with Yeosang to find me an outfit while he suggested something sexier. Yeosang also liked the primal aspect of it and bribed Seonghwa with something he still won’t tell me.  All to be matching with me as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[purinfelix]

Joao with actress reader 👀

just an act ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ - joao felix

pairing: actress reader x joao felix (established relationship) summary: in which your boyfriend's possessive tendencies are put to the test warnings: none! w/c: 1.1k

a/n: take a shot everytime i apologise for being ia challenge !! also this is a teensy bit rushed and i'm not entirely happy with it but, i hope it's alright !! tysm anon for the req (and for waiting for so long for me to answer it 😭)

“Joao, you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” your boyfriend huffed, “I’m fine! Really!”

“You literally skipped out on training to follow me to work,” you reminded him, with a slightly teasing tone.

“So?”

You let out a sigh for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour and tried your best to maintain your composure. Around you, the atmosphere of an active film set roared with its flurry of light, noise, and movement. Neither your hair nor makeup were close to being done, and you were still standing wrapped in the plush white robe the costuming staff had given you before you changed into your outfit for your scene. Somewhere to your right you watched the director and his entourage of nervous interns scrounge around the perfect the set’s lighting, and push all of the cameras and mics in their right places. Behind you, your costar sat on his chair, waiting impatiently, ready for the scene the two of you were shooting today.

And yet, the only thing you found your attention being drawn to was the boy that stood in front of you, with floppy hair and pleading eyes and a pout that was just too hard to deny.

“So, are you sure you’re alright with this? With me kissing another man?” you repeated, slowly, growing more aware of how little time you had until the cameras were set to start rolling.

When you had come home a couple of weeks ago with the news - that the new movie you were starring in would involve a kissing scene between you and your costar - you were nervous, to say the least. You knew Joao was the type to value your career just as much as you did, and would never do anything to stop you from achieving your dreams. However, you were equally aware that he had possessive tendencies, as much as he pretended not to. Of course, he had acted casual about the news at first, telling you that as long as you were comfortable with it, he was too.

But now that the time to shoot the scene had actually come, it seemed like he was having second thoughts - evidenced by the fact he had insisted on following you to work and had spent the past hour or so hovering around as you got ready, expression equal parts nervous and stern. Despite this, you knew he’d rather die than admit how he really felt, even if you prodded him a thousand times just to say what was clearly on his mind.

“Yep! Totally fine!” he chirped out in a falsely cheery tone. The way his eyes flickered anxiously between you, and your costar waiting in the distance, seemed to suggest otherwise.

You could only rub his arm reassuringly though, offering a look that you hoped conveyed your gratefulness at the fact he trusted you enough to not get in your way, but also cared enough to be so watchful. Still, the staff around you waited for no one, and soon enough you were ushered back into your makeup chair, from which you watched your boyfriend linger behind the cameras, chewing on his bottom lip nervously.

“Joao, baby.”

You were starting to feel like a broken record at this point.

The scene had gone well, and you had only had to reshoot it a couple of times because of either you or your costar forgetting or stumbling over your lines. But the two of you had done your best to maintain an air of professionalism surrounding the intimate scene - your boyfriend however hadn’t been so well.

“I’m fine.” His tone, and the fact that his back was facing you as the two of you lay in bed together, told you otherwise.

The kiss - or kisses as Joao had corrected you - had only lasted seconds, nothing more than quick pecks in fleeting moments. You hadn’t thought much of them before, during, and now after them but it was clear he didn’t share the same sentiment.

“You said you were okay with it,” you sighed softly, trying your best to push the understanding tone in your voice.

“I am.”

“It doesn’t really seem like it.” Whilst it seemed like the bare minimum for him to let you go ahead with something your job required of you, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for him putting aside his feelings for you - or at least trying to. A part of you found it slightly adorable as well, that he was trying so hard to hide his slight jealousy - evidenced by his moody demeanour the entire afternoon after you got back from shooting.

“What makes you think that?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely clueless or whether he was just messing with you. Struggling against your mattress, you pushed yourself up and leaned over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder - from where you could see his side profile, and furrowed brows.

“Hmm, I wonder,” you hum, fingers moving to gently interlace his fingers with yours as a silent way of saying I know something’s wrong.

“It’s just,” he began, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders at finally breaking through to him, “that costar of yours, Andy or whatever his name is, seemed a little bit too into it.”

You had to stop yourself from giggling, given how sincere his words were, but you couldn’t help but find his jealousy a little bit adorable.

“Joao, his name is Andrew,” you corrected him, “and he has a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and she’s lovely,” you chuckled softly, relief washing over you as you watched your boyfriend break into a small smile for what felt like the first time all day. You could physically feel the tension in his shoulders melt away as he let out a sigh of relief he must’ve been holding ever since you had come home with the news.

“Thank God,” he finally mumbled, turning back around to face you as he pulled you in close. You felt his grip tightly around your waist as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing deeply.

“Plus, it’s not like he would pose much competition anyways,” you added, laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around him. He only hummed in response, not saying much more. You pecked the top of his forehead, relishing the fact that you had finally managed to heal his mood. After all, whilst acting was your job, you knew that at times like this - away from any cameras and in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms - none of it was an act.

[sweetercalypso]

Please can you write about being catcalled when you’re with Joel? Like what do you think he would do?

wc: 0.7k cw: threats/slight violence, suggestive comments

Life in Jackson is quiet.

It’s reminiscent of a time that not many remember. Fit with a heavy artillery of patrolmen and a clinic and a working bar, Jackson made it easy to pretend that danger was no longer a concern.

Some of the men in the community weren’t so well-adjusted to easy living, and learned to find the familiarity of violence wherever they possibly could.

Walking back from Tommy’s house one evening, you’re reminded of how pervasive the threat of humanity can be.

Joel leads you home after dinner with his family. Ellie had stayed behind at Maria and Tommy’s with promises of hot chocolate and a new book that Tommy had procured on patrol the week before. You’re wrapped around Joel’s arm, giggling at whatever nonsense story he was murmuring into the quiet air when a sharp whistle kills the hazy warmth of the night.

Standing alone in the pale-yellow light of a streetlamp, one of the men from a group of newcomers stares darkly at you and Joel as the two of you pass by. His eyes had been stalking you from the time you turned the corner, like he was waiting for the perfect time to make his move.

“Lookin’ good, baby. I’d love to get a piece of that ass.”

Joel stops dead in his tracks like he’d been scorned by the man’s words. It was obvious the stranger was looking to pick a fight, and Joel was not the type to let a remark like that go.

“The fuck did he just say-”

“Ignore ‘em, Joel. He’s just trying to rile you up.”

Your grip on Joel’s sleeve tightens to give the man a chance to reconsider. Maybe he didn’t mean to offend you and he’d apologize. Maybe he’d realize who Joel was and he’d run away. Maybe –

“Let me know when the old man croaks, sweetheart. I’ll show you how a real man takes care of a pretty thing like you.”

Joel whips around abruptly with rage in his eyes and tears his arm out of your grasp before you even realize what’s happening.

He pounces on the man and grabs him by the collar, pushing him backwards until he smacks into the wall of the building behind him.

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel snarls.

He slams his hand against the faded brick, barely missing the side of the man’s face with his palm. Too stunned by the scene playing out in front of you, you’re frozen where you stand in the middle of the street.

Realizing that he had made a mistake, the man puts his hands up in surrender, opening his mouth to speak when Joel cuts him off.

“If I hear another word out of your mouth, I’ll knock your head clean off your shoulders. You got that?”

He nods frantically, clearly aware that he’s not in the position to argue.

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again – or any woman here, for that matter. This ain’t the kinda place where people let that slide.”

Barely an inch separates the two men as Joel barks abuse at the creep until he’s red in the face. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him this upset.

“You so much as look at her again and you’re dead. D’you hear me?”

The man shakes his head in acknowledgement, too stunned to respond.

Joel yanks him forward and away from the wall, almost throwing him to the ground from the rough force he uses. He holds the man at arm’s length, speaking loudly enough for you to hear him where you stand a couple paces away. “Good. Now tell her you’re sorry.”

The man meets your gaze over Joel’s jacket clad shoulder, stammering through his dazed apology. “M’sorry, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

Joel releases him with a rough shove and backs away nodding. “You’re damn right.”

He walks backwards until he’s beside you again, your hand slinking under his outer layer to rest securely over his chest.

“My hero,” you tease, pressing a kiss to his cheek as the two of you continue your journey back home.

Watching over his shoulder as the the stranger staggers into the night, Joel mutters under his breath,

“I’d rather deal with the damn clickers.”

[lenniexprime]

Senior Pictures (ES! Bumblebee x Senior! Teen! Reader)

Earthspark !! in honor of mine being today, here’s a cute little thing. gn reader. sfw!!!

( not edited )

* It was a beautiful winter day. You lived near more inland so it was colder, but the beautiful skies made up for it. The leaves had fallen already, giving Pennsylvania a whole new look.

* You were getting outfits ready, setting them in bumblebee’s car. Your aunt and uncle had agreed to you taking bumblebee for you senior photos, of course if bumblebee was comfortable. (He was ofc) You had one specific outfit that went along with his color scheme. It wasn’t a piercing yellow, but rather a warm orangish yellow on the outfit. It was perfect.

* You were excited, nervous, anxious, the whole package. You were awaiting this day, as it’s one step closer to your graduation. Bumblebee was just as nervous. He had asked Alex to polish him. He looked nice and brand new.

* “Make sure Bumblebee doesn’t get caught,” your aunt Dottie said. You had assured her it was going to be okay, that most of the pictures were inside and they didn’t need him until later.

* When you had gotten to the studio, the nervousness broke you. You were changing into your first outfit. Looking at yourself. Is this really happening? Senior photos? Are you really a senior, taking your senior photos? Hell yeah you are.

* While you took your pictures inside, changing outfits for each one, Bumblebee sighed. He was low-key bored. When was it going to be his turn? He wanted to see what he looked like in the camera. (Let’s not pretend he went through the car wash a couple times nearby LMAO)

* When it was time, he was there. You had told the photographer what you had wanted and she smiled with excitement. “Oh, you brought your car?” You nodded, turning to him. “Let’s get this pictures taken, yeah?” she continues. “I got a couple of cute ideas.” She then finishes.

* You patted bumblebee who was in the middle of the street for these photos.

* The photographer made you lean on bumblebee, foot up, and hand crossed. You had made sure you smiled because you know your aunt would kill if you didn’t. “With teeth,” bumblebee whispered. Damn it all. You gave him a kick and waited for further instruction.

* “Cute! Alright, now I want you to sit on the hood,” she says, getting her lenses ready.

* You jump backwards on top of him and cross your legs a little. You smiled some more.

* After some time of taking a couple of photos, you followed her to the front desk. “Alrighty, thank you, sweetie,” one of them said. “Have a great day, and enjoy the rest of your senior year!”

* You headed out the studio door with your bag and paperwork for your pictures.

* “Can we get Taco Bell?”

* “In my car?” “I know you a lie Y/N, nice try,’

* Damn maybe next time.

[dilfluvr22]

Draco Malfoy Oneshot ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Prompt: Draco is very shy around you but finally musters up the courage to ask you out.

Draco Lucius Malfoy is a boy known all across Hogwarts for being snarky, rude, and constantly threatening to go to his father when things don't go his way. He is everything but shy and will blurt out whatever comes to his mind. Except, you notice, when you are near. You've never particularly been a fan of Draco because you always assumed that he hates your guts. Every time you walk into a room that he's in, he automatically shuts up and he and all his friends get extremely quiet.

Your growing suspicion was shot down when you were browsing the library one day and overhear none other than Pansy, Blaise, and Draco bickering in one of the aisles. You decided to listen in, hoping to get some kind of idea what Draco was like, since you never experienced his snarkiness firsthand- seeing how he always quieted down at your presence.

"Oh come on, man, we all see the way you look at y/n! You won't shut up about her, just ask her out!" You overhear Blaise whispering rather loudly

"Shut up! You're being so loud!" Pansy whisper-screams, not much quieter than Blaise. "But I agree, Draco. You should ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend."

"No way! You two have gone mental." Draco states in a normal tone. You hear shuffling, and hear them keep talking amongst themselves as they exit the library. You realize now, that you've been wrong all along.

Draco doesn't hate you, he likes you

And oh boy are you gonna have fun with this.

A few days pass, and you haven't heard anything from Draco. You begin to wonder if you had imagined the whole thing, or if you had just heard wrong in the library and they were talking about someone else. You did notice a slight change in Draco's behavior, though. You would catch him sneaking glances at you during class, making eye contact for a split second before he quickly looks at the ground or starts examining what's on the table in front of him. You find this rather entertaining, but begin to get impatient.

A couple days later in potions, Snape announces that there will be a partner assignment and that he will allow everyone to pick their own partners. You sit there for a second, looking around to see If anybody is available for partnering, when you notice Draco slowly approach you from your side and feel him tap your shoulder. You smile softly to yourself and turn to face him.

"Hey, y/n, would you like to be partners?" He asks, trying to appear confident and careless but you can tell from his body language that he is everything but.

You wanted to tease him a bit, so you stood for a second in silence, as if pondering, then state your final decision.

"Yeah, that would be great!" You say happily, smiling brightly at the blonde. You pretend not to notice the slight smile that creeps up the side of his mouth, but it's about the first thing you notice after you said that.

This was a win-win situation for you. For one, this is the perfect opportunity to mess with Draco, and two, you're not very good at potions, so being partnered up with someone who is, is a major bonus. As you warn Draco about this, he seemed more than happy to explain everything he was doing.

It was surprising, how patient he is explaining the steps of making the potion Snape had assigned, pausing if you had any questions and even giving some examples to help you understand fully.

And he was being so nice, and the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, how he mixed the ingredients with ease, showing complete understanding of the material, how he brushes his platinum blonde hair out of his face while he works. You realized, then, that maybe you didn't just want to toy with Draco's emotions

Maybe you just wanted to be his.

The entire class with Draco was filled with sneaky glances at each other and subtle touches and it was driving you insane.

"Hey y/n, I was wondering if you could meet me in the courtyard before dinner starts? I have something important I need to speak to you about" Draco asked once class was over and everyone began packing their belongings.

This caught you off guard, but you agreed, intrigued by what he could want to say. "yeah, sounds great" you replied with a smile.

Once dinner rolls around, you find yourself rushing to get to the courtyard, finding Draco under a large tree shaded with thick branches and leaves. He smiles and appears excited at your arrival, relaxing your nerves a bit. Draco also seems very nervous, as do you. Once you walk up to him and greet him, he immediately gets to talking.

"listen y/n I understand this all seems so sudden, but I love you. I've loved you since I seen you in 2nd year and I've always wanted to talk to you but I've never found the guts in me to actually do it and I'm so sorry for having been too much of a coward, but I want to ask you if you would do me the honor and be my girlfriend?" Draco finished with a large breath.

You stood there a moment, trying to grasp everything he just said. It made no sense, how have you been so blind? How have you not noticed that for years Draco fancied you and you took it as him hating your guts for no apparent reason?

And because of recent events, you figured that Draco must like you, but love? He seems genuinely head over heels for you.

Draco had taken your momentary silence as a sign of rejection, because he turned and began walking towards the castle, when you reached and grabbed his arm. You spun him around quickly, and without much thought smashed your lips against his.

It was a slow and meaningful kiss. His lips felt very soft against your own and you could feel from the kiss the genuineness of his feelings and you realized then that, beneath those ugly layers of hate and snark remarks, is a beautiful boy who just loves too hard.

[ryngzmn]

living dead girl

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: Sam’s been noticing the scars on your arms and decides to ask you about them.

A/N: the scars on the arms r not intended to be sh, but if you want to, you can pretend that there are sh scars! also, this is still written gender neutral despite the work title! I based it off a song which I’ll put down below:

WARNINGS: partial nudity (reader takes off their shirt, not for intimate purposes), sam is kind of awkward in this, not proofread, kind of got lazy at the end😭😭

WORD COUNT: 836

Sam had recently found himself growing curious.

Curious of the scars on your arms that he had taken more notice of.

Now it’s not like he blatantly ignored the faint scars that were there, you just never really allowed them to be seen to the naked eye.

You always wore shirts with long enough sleeves so nobody would see them.

But with warmer weather approaching, you knew it would just be annoying to wear long sleeve shirts in eighty degree weather.

That’s when Sam started noticing the scars. They fascinated him. He wanted to know every story behind them.

—————————————————————————

Weeks had passed since Sam started noticing the scars. He watched as the shirts you always wore got shorter and shorter in the sleeve area, revealing more of the taut marks there.

He felt himself growing antsy, he wanted — no, he needed to know all the stories behind them.

But, of course, he never had a good chance to ask.

He for sure couldn’t ask either Dean in the room, Sam would never hear the end of his elder brother’s teasing!

So, instead he opted for not-so-patiently waiting for a better opportunity to ask you.

—————————————————————————

After a couple days, that perfect opportunity arose.

You, Sam, and Dean were in Reno, Nevada for a case. A simple ghost case.

The only reason that Sam was able to ask is because Dean insisted on checking out the crime scene by himself.

Sam was eternally grateful that Dean actually went to the crime scene by himself that time, because now it left him with you.

It took him at least thirty minutes to find the courage to get up and approach you.

Frankly, he was kind of afraid you’d push him away, reject him and maybe even tell him off for even asking.

You were cleaning some weapons for the future hunt while sitting on the bed, Sam was sitting at a table with a laptop and lore book in front of him.

Sam inhaled through his teeth, finally standing up and walking over, sitting down beside you.

You briefly glanced at him before focusing back on the gun you were holding.

“Hi,” Sam greeted, rather awkwardly, in fact.

“Hey.” You finally put the gun aside and focused on Sam, turning to face him. “What’s up?”

“Uh, so- I have a question.” Sam mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

You hummed, nodding a bit. “Alright, shoot.” Waving a hand on his direction, you motioned for him to continue.

Sam flashed you a small smile, taking this as a good sign. “Okay, so, y’know those scars on your arms right?” He gestured to them, just for good measure.

You followed his line of sight, nodding slowly. “Uh-huh?”

“Well, I was wondering if you could tell me the stories behind them..” Sam uttered, clearing his throat and looking off to the side.

You laughed quietly, gently tapping Sam’s leg to get his attention before pointing to three consecutive marks on your forearm that looked like claw marks.

“These are from a Wendigo hunt, it was the first hunt I went on solo.” You murmured, looking up at Sam to make sure he was listening.

“This is from a Ghoul.” You pointed to another scar by your elbow, where it definitely looked like a blade made some sort of incision.

—————————————————————————

After a few minutes of you pointing out scars and blemishes that were on your arms, Sam noticed you pause. Like you were debating something.

“What’s wrong..?” Sam inquired quietly, his eyebrows knitting together in a look of concern.

“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong.” You assured with a smile, “I was just wondering if I should take my shirt off or not, I have more of ‘em.” You explained, obviously referring to the scars.

Sam cleared his throat, trying not to look too eager at the prospect of seeing even more of the marks on your skin.

“Oh, yeah, you can do that if you want!” Sam nodded reassuringly.

You chuckled, quickly discarding the piece of fabric and letting Sam look.

Sam almost felt his jaw go slack at the new expanse of skin. He wanted to run his fingers over every blemish, every mark. Sam even let out a quiet “woah..”

You couldn’t help but feel a little flustered under Sam’s intense stare, and you quickly pointed to a scar near your collarbone to distract yourself.

“This is from a Rabid..” You explained, before turning so your back was in view.

“This is from another Wendigo hunt, got too close to the fire.” You let out a dry chuckle as you felt Sam gently run his fingers over the faint burn scar on your back.

“They’re all so.. beautiful.” Sam mumbled, his eyebrows raising.

“Thanks..”

Realizing that Dean might be back soon, you quickly put your shirt back on and went back to cleaning as Sam decided to help you. His mind still lingering on the idea that you trusted him enough to be so vulnerable with him.

—————————————————————————

reblogs r appreciated! :))

[merrybloomwrites]

Spencer Agnew - My Favorite Pizza Oven

Summary: Spencer and Y/N spend a weekend babysitting Courtney and Shayne's son.

Word Count: 728

AN: Welcome to the first of 9 weeks of ficlets! Come back every Thursday for a little fic of Reader x Smosh! Most are Spencer x Reader but there will be a couple Ian x Reader and Damien x Reader as well!

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

When Courtney came up to you and asked if you and Spencer could watch her and Shayne’s son for a couple nights so they could go on vacation you immediately said yes. 

“Shouldn’t you check if Spencer is on board?” She asked. 

“Trust me, he’ll be on board,” you replied. You and your boyfriend had watched Ryan for a night a few months ago. Spencer had been asking for weeks when you thought the two of you might be able to babysit again. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll text you with the details.”

“Perfect! I’m looking forward to it!” 

“That’s because he’s always a little angel for Auntie Y/N and Uncle Spencer,” she said. 

“Because we absolutely spoil him and say yes to pretty much whatever he wants,” you replied with a laugh. “It’s our right as aunt and uncle!” You add and she conceded, joining in on your laughter. 

Later that night, when you filled Spencer in on your conversation with Courtney he got super excited and started listing all the activities he was hoping to do throughout the weekend with Ryan.

You just listened and sighed, hoping Spencer would behave and you wouldn’t have to rein in two excitable children. 

A couple days before your babysitting duties were set to begin, you and Spencer made a trip to Target after work to stock up on a few things for your home. You’d split up, wanting to get done quickly since it was getting late.

You always worry a bit about sending Spencer out on his own, never knowing what he’ll return with, and your fears are often valid. This time was no exception.

When you met back up, he was carrying a basket with the items on his list, as well as a Play Doh pizza oven set. 

“Are you thinking of getting into crafting now?” you asked, skeptically eyeing the item.

“It’s for Ryan!” he replied. “Shayne said he’s really into play-doh lately so I thought he might enjoy it. And I figured coming in with a new toy might help him be excited for a weekend with us, rather than sad that his parents are leaving.”

“That’s a really good idea,” you replied. You gave Spencer a fond look, as you’re reminded once again how thoughtful this man is. Even after years together you continue to fall more in love with him. Even while standing in the middle of a Target on a Wednesday night.

Two days later you arrived at Shayne and Courtney’s home with your overnight bags, prepared for a weekend of babysitting. Courtney went over all the instructions again, and finally you sent the two on their way to enjoy some time alone. 

As predicted, Ryan was a bit upset seeing his mom and dad leave, but Spencer quickly stepped in and showed him the new toy. It worked like a charm, and the two boys made lots of creations together.

Even better was the moment when dinner arrived. After making plenty of pretend pizzas, Ryan was ecstatic to see they’d be eating real pizza for dinner too! 

The weekend went smoothly, and that plastic pizza oven went everywhere Ryan went. Including the playground. He was truly obsessed. 

“I love this pizza oven!” he exclaimed during breakfast Sunday morning. “It’s my favorite!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he reminded you so much of his dad in that moment. You had come up with a plan, a perfect way for Ryan to greet his parents when they got back home. 

A couple hours later, when Courtney and Shayne walked in the front door, Ryan had run up to them, new toy in hand.

“Hey buddy! I missed you,” Shayne said, hugging his son tight. “What’s that you got there?”

“It’s from Auntie Y/N and Uncle Spencer! It’s my favorite pizza oven!” All the adults began to laugh, as Ryan practically quoted one of his father's most famous lines.

Later that night, when you and Spencer were back home having dinner, you couldn’t help but think back on the weekend, and how wonderful your boyfriend was with the little guy. Your mind imagined what your future will be like, when you and Spencer have a little one of your own. One look at him told you he was thinking the same thing, and you knew you’d picked a good one.

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

AN: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and can't wait to share more with you!

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!!

Fem MXY WWX pls!!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41

They're back to riding, only a couple hours away from Jin Tower, and Wei Wuxian is happy to be off his feet, but he can't even focus on that.

He's too busy feeling desperately sad for Mo Xuanyu.

She lived as a pauper in a family that despised her, had a father that ignored her, was so lonely that she named her sword Friend, and killed herself rather than marry Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would have been nice to her. It took him a while to warm up, but he's trying now, to do his duty as a proper husband. Which is inconvenient for Wei Wuxian, but probably would have meant the world to Mo Xuanyu.

She didn't have to die. If she'd been able to hold onto hope for just a few more days, instead of giving in to revenge and despair, then she could have lived out her life out from underneath the thumb of other people.

"Are you okay?"

He startles out of his thoughts, looking up to see Sizhui has pulled his mare up beside his and is peering at him in concern.

He forces a smile, because he's put Sizhui through enough today, and he's a good boy that doesn't deserve to be involved in any of this. The worst part about dying again is going to be leaving behind Sizhui. He's such a sweet boy who loves him so easily and he just knows that it's going to break his heart when either the cultivation or the curse mark has run its course. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Just thinking."

Sizhui looks unconvinced, but nods before looking up towards the front of the procession, where Lan Xichen and Lan Zhan are talking about something while Jin Guangyao pretends to be interested. He reaches into his sleeve. "I found some of these in town when I went looking for you."

He pulls out a small bag of the sweet, spicy pepper candy that Wei Wuxian likes so much and hold it out.

"You're the best!" he says, taking the bag and also pausing to squeeze his arm in thanks, only not pulling him into a hug because he's not sure how tolerant the horses will be about it.

The food in Cloud Recesses is ass and he can't cover everything with chilli oil because the only person he'd met who liked food as spicy as he did was - well, no one. So having Mo Xuanyu like spicy food had seemed like edging a little too close to obvious.

He'd been so happy when Sizhui had brought pepper candy back for him for the first time and had sworn him to secrecy to how how much he loved them.

Wei Wuxian pops one of the candies in his mouth, sucking on it to more quickly get to the firey pops of pepper, which is his favorite.

There's about five seconds of deliciousness and then his stomach rolls with nausea. He tightens his grip, trying to ride it out, but the taste of the candy he loved turns sour and he's seriously worried he's going to hurl, which Lan Zhan would never let him hear the end of.

He spits the candy out onto the ground, rubbing at his mouth.

"Lady Xuanyu?" Sizhui asks startled. "Is - sorry, did I get the wrong one?"

"No, no, it's perfect," he assures, internally sighing in relief as his stomach starts to settle. "I guess I shouldn't eat them on an empty stomach! It ruins the flavor. Who knew?"

He's eaten them on an empty stomach a dozen times before and never had an issue.

"Okay," Sizhui says slowly. 'Are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Sizhui, don't worry," he says, and means it, even though he sort of wants to cry.

The pepper candies were one of the only things he could get his hands on that he enjoyed eating, and now even that's gone?

At least the Jin go all out on the banquets.

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Forbidden affair.

Pairing: Toji fushiguro x chubby reader.

Warning: Cheating, Toxic love affair, Jealousy, Gaslighting, Pregnancy, Arguments, Possessive Toji, Passionate sex, fingering, Oral (Fem), Pregnancy sex, Breastfeeding, wall sex, Ausgt.

Summary: it was supposed to be the same, help a happy couple, help create their future but one look in his eyes and you were doomed.

A/n: Fanart, not mine.

Verdant, like glistening emeralds, was a dangerous temptation, such desire, was the telltale of your doom. Sounds of impatient foot-tapping still rings in your ear each time you think of him.

The words of the doctor and his wife faded once you glazed upon him, what a bewitching beauty. Onyx hair, like that of coal, hangs in front of those green memorizing jewels that he was fortunate to call his a build that heavyweights envy and strive for and a scar down the right side of his lip. He was beautiful.

You moved in a couple of weeks after of course once the doctor had confirmed you were with child. The house was pretty and traditional, even cozy. Many mornings were spent cocking your breakfast and bitterly listening to Kimkio's sobs of pleasure as Toji no doubt showed no mercy on his small wife and you could not help but be envious of her luck, happiness, looks, and otherwise perfect life.

Each time they came out of their room to eat she'd always smile so sweetly and greet you while she barely stood straight you had to push those petty feelings down and smile. So stuck in pretending to be nice you failed to notice the animalistic, want glint Toji's glaze as he skillfully watches you move around, without seeming he wasn't paying attention to you at all, a perk from his job if you will. You were delectable, simply pretty there was something gorgeous about your portly form, the small jiggle of your breasts, stomach, and thighs that drove him crazy with want and Toji fushiguro always got what he wanted, rather if people liked it or not.

You groaned and walked to the kitchen with items that would surely be on your craving wants.

"you're home." Toji hiccuped, taking a swig of Asahi Super Dry and leaning against the wall. "Tojj are you drunk?" you frowned, and stopped putting away the groceries. " 'm not." he slurred which answered that question. "Come on, let's get you to bed." you shook your head and strolled to him. Surprisingly he didn't put up a fight as you took his hand and led the way to his bed. "there you go." you smiled gently, moving a lock of hair away from his closed lids. You couldn't help but wonder if he did this every time Kimiko left on a business trip.

You gasped when a firm griped your wrist once you stood up and pulled you onto Toji, who quickly pinned you to the bed he bed "Where ya goin'?" toji slurred, pushing both your wrists to the mattress and weaved in between your legs. Your heart skips a beat, Toji was as handsome as he always was. His bedroom prasine orbs held lust you haven't seen before and his ebony hair acted like a curtain more that he leaned closer to your lips "Well?". "I-I thought you were asleep." you stuttered, heart racing inside your ears.

No words were exchanged but the pressing of lips, and the swirling of tongues wasn't far behind, his kisses were mind-numbing, and a lingering pleasure. Blurrs of clothes being taken off and thrown impatiently barely registered within the carnal lust. His hips rocked against your ass, thrusting his cock into your tight, slick, and saliva-covered cunt "Damn fuckin' perfect thighs." Toji groaned, his grip on your jiggling thighs tightening "And this stomach." Toji growled as he dragged his tongue up your bouncing pudgy belly to your breasts. "just my type." he slurred with hooded eyes, sucking and licking your nipple, his hand rolling the other between his thick digits. You gasped, his strong arms grabbed hold of your middle and pulled you onto his lap as he sat back "Gonna ride me yeah?" Toji's words spread a fire through your core "You can do it pretty girl." He cooed, his hands now holding your rear. Kissing him passionately, you lifted your hips before completely slamming down his member "Goddamn pretty girl." Toji choked out and used your ass as leverage to pump into you from below, every push in and out you felt each vein, his bulbous tip hit your cervix and gspot in one that made your toes curl as he fucked you like it was the end of the world. The squelching of the pairing of your soaked cunt and his glistening cock was inching your climax closer, causing your poor pussy to pulse "Cum, fuckin' come on this fat cock!" Toji growled, attacking your neck with kisses. "Fuck!" you screamed, your hips stuttering from your overwhelming orgasm.

Toji groaned, pouring his seed within your clamped pussy, milking his balls dry. Gently Toji laid you back on the bed and pulled out, chuckling at your tired whine as he did and pulled you into his warm embrace, his chest supporting your head, his arm snuggling you into his side "Sleep," he mumbled into your hair "I'll be here." your soft sores followed and a sinister smirk graced his lips, damn he should make a career in acting.

"She's my wife! Just because 'm fuckin' you, doesn't mean you're special!" Toji got into your face "Get that through that thick skull" he said harshly as he tapped your head with two of his fingers. You glared at him and slapped his digits away "Fuck off prick." you hissed and walked into the bathroom. "Don't walk away f'me." Toji spat and grabbed your arm, his hold was hard, so rough you knew a bruise would arise. "I do whatever I want to do. Why don't you find a whore to fuck!" you yelled, yanking and failing to free your trapped arm. "Maybe I fuckin' will." Toji growled, letting go of your forearm and walked away.

The slamming of the front door, informed you he truly left.

You sank onto the toilet as silent tears began to fall that soon turned into sobs. Maybe you deserved this, nothing good comes from falling for a married man, especially a man like Toji but you delused that he was different..he was so sweet to you after that night, and the continuous nights that followed now you see you were just a fool.

Days passed and he hadn't returned. Sleeping became more hard to come by, so used to his body next to you as you slept and craving came like a hurricane.

The baby however continues to grow, and the baby bump finally more noticeable past your rotund stomach. TV played some trashy show in which you barely paid any attention as you scooped more of the chocolate ice cream and swallowed it from the spoon. 'I hate him. I hate him. I hat-' your bitter thoughts stopped abruptly, quickly you paused the show and pushed yourself off the loveseat as the sound of a door being unlocked.

"Toj-Oh Mrs. Fushiguro, Welcome home!" you greet her feigning cheerfulness. "I'm glad to be back," Kimiko smiled and put her shoes, coat, and bag in their respective places "How are you, and the baby?" she asked, laying her hands on your baby bump. "We're good." you forced a smile, feeling all but comfortable by her touch. "Where's Toji by the way? I didn't see his car in the driveway" she questioned and took her hands off your stomach. "Oh, he left to hang out with a friend for a while. Don't know when he'll be back," you replied. "Okay..."Kimiko trailed off, a look akin to anger on her pretty pale face.

Toji still hasn't returned, and it's been a week. You could barely stand being in the same room as Kimiko, the remainder that you had fucked her husband more than once hit hard so you tried to get out as much as you could that's when you met Aoto, a sweet and considerate man that you quickly became friends. Today you both decided to go to a popular cafe, the weather was warm and sunny, the perfect day to sit outside. You laughed at a joke that Aoto said, and in the corner of your eyes you noticed a man coming your way, he seemed angry.

"Who's this?" Toji spat, glaring at the small man, a glint brimmed with murderous intent. "Oh, umm this is Aoto Tanaka, my friend," you piped nervously, Toji didn't even look at you. "Who do you think you are?" Toki questioned, placing his hands on the table and leaning closer to Aoto's face "Ya want to fuck her huh?" Toji accused. "W-what? No! It's not like that!" Aoto tried to plead his case as he looked anywhere besides You and Toji. "Bullshit," Toji growled and picked up your friend by his shirt and throw him to the hard concrete. Your eyes widened in horror, you were unable to move as you watched Toji drop to his knees on top of Aoto and punch him in the face, the blow causing blood to flow out of his nose, Toji continued to bash Aoto.

The screams around you broke you from your state and you hurried to try to help, "Toji, Stop!" you cried as you tugged at his arm, "Please, you're scaring me!". Toji breathed heavily and stood up, "She's mine, bitch." Toji spat on Aoto's face for good measure and grabbed your arm, and your purse pulled you along. "Why the fuck did ya let some bitch close to you!" Toji pushed you into an ally way and trapped you against the brick wall, making you drop said purse. "You're mine.". "I'm nobody's to own! I'm my own person!" you hissed and attempted to wiggle free. "Like hell!" you flinched as he yelled, a sharp pain in your stomach caused you to hold your baby bump and almost fall, luckily Toji quickly caught you. "Baby?!" Toji shook you as you gained and lost consciousness.

Groaning you opened your eyes, the sound of peeping and a sterile smell surrounded you. "Oh, honey you're awake." a woman, who you assumed was your assigned was designated nurse. "How long was I out?" you asked, your voice raspy, a groan followed after as a strong headache rang through.

"A week," she replied as she checked your vitals, "Your baby boy is just fine, congratulations by the way." She turned around and smiled, her hand resting on yours, "If you wish in a few hours you can go home, do you have a ride?" you shook your head. "Oh," She frowned "Well then don't worry, we can call a taxi to take you home," she reassured, patting your hand, and left the room to continue her job. You were released three hours later, the ride home was silent, a true blessing. Once he pulled up the driveway, you thanked the driver and got out, your purse on your shoulder, and keys in hand. You have never been so grateful to be home, by yourself than you are now,.

Walking inside you placed your keys on the rack, take off your shoes, and throw your purse onto the couch as you walk past the furniture and to your bedroom, plopping down on the soft bed, "Fuck me." you groaned, you were being so foolish, nothing good came from fucking married men yet something about Toji was addicting, enchanting.

You need a few days by yourself.

That didn't even last two days, you already texted Kimiko about wanting some time alone, and she immediately texted, a little hesitant and worried, although she still understood your point and said that if you needed anything to let hurt know. However, Toji didn't, on the second day heavy, rapid knocks sang within your house, yelling and shouting following suit, it went on for hours before he gave up and went home, the third day he continued to disturb the neighborly peace, and you continued to ignore him. In time he stopped bothering you and you took that as a chance to get out for fresh air and a snack.

You smiled as you waved at a friendly neighbor and unlocked the door, the house was dark except for a dimly lit light that shined from the living room, which was on when you left. Your breath hitched as you moved as silently as you could to your kitchen and grabbed a knife from the wood block, slowly you approached the living room, hiding behind the hall wall, and peaked over the wall.

"Good, you're home," Toji said nonchalantly, his head resting against his knock as his ankle lay on his thigh as he sat on your loveseat. "What are you doing here?" your eyebrows frowned as watched as he got up from the loveseat and woke backward when he began to stroll towards you. "You've been ignoring me, what other way to get ya attention?" Toji griped your jaw in his hand once he backed you against the wall, his other running up and down your tubby sides. "You.." you trailed off as his hand slid down your stomach into your pants and underwear, his fingers parting your folds and rubbing your slit. "you what? Why don't you let me take care of ya huh? Let me make it up to you." Toji whispers before licking your neck, nipping, and suckin', as his digits now rolls your nub between them. "Please," you begged even though everything told you not to let him. You mewled, Toji's kiss muffed every whimper and moan, he slipped his finger in your slimy, stick opening, his palm jerking up your clit. Your juices overflowed his hand, no part of his hand wasn't coated in your slick.

Toji away from your heat kiss, a sting of saliva snapped as he pulled away, "You're mine, you fuckin' got me" Toji snarled and lifted you into his capable arms when you simply nodded, eyes glossed over with lust and followed your directions to your bedroom. You let a loud whoa as he pushed you upon the wall, and sat you down to tear your pants and everything with it, "You got me fucked up, thinkin' you ain't mine." his eyes a darker green than before, working off his clothes he slaps your one of thick thighs, you knew what that meant and you spread them.

"You'll always be and don't forget it." he said as he picked you up, his cock lay heavy upon your sticky folds "Do you understand?" he glared at you. "Yes! Yes, please!" you cried "Want you bad! Fuck me!" you whined, bucking your hips, his dick sliding up your lips as you did so. "alright I tortured you enough." Toji smirked smugly, without any shame. His fat cockhead jabbed into your pussy, not hard to hurt but it certainly made your eyes roll," Feel good baby?" Toji cooed mockingly. You open your mouth to reply, and the only thing that leaves your lips is a yelp as he tore through your last remaining clothing, he begins to suckie on your nipple drawing your warm breast milk, gulping down heaps of it as his cock rolled and pounded your cunt, "Damn the kid is lucky." Toji slurred as his rhythm sped up. Your eyes closed from the pleasure as your form buzzed, every part felt hot. Your eyes snapped open as a gasp was heard that wasn't from you, right there in the door frames was Kimiko, a hand over her mouth as she looked on the way Toji became one with you, tears that sat borderline of her orbs.

Toji slowed to a stop, his dick still lodged within your walls as he looked over his shoulder, his expression falling when he saw his wife. Without thinking he let you go, your body hit the floor, and a sharp pain shocked your body however before you could ask for help, Toji ran after Kimiko. You gritted your teeth as you crawled to your unlocked door and knocked over your purse rack, searching for your phone hectically and called 119, you waited as you felt like you were growing underwater "Hello, how may I help you?" a kind-sounding woman asked. "I'm pregnant a-and I fall. Please help me!" you said shakily. "Okay, ma'am im tracking your phone and the paramedics will be there soon. Just stay with me," she spoke as you heard fast typing on a keyboard, her calm voice helped lessen your fear. However, it was too hard to stay awoke and you gave into unconsciousness.

You jolted up from the piercing cry of a baby. Your baby was okay, you smiled as the doctors lifted him in the air, he looked exactly like his father, and you thought they would immediately lay him on your chest instead they handed your baby boy, Kimkio and Toji walked into the delivery room. Happy smiles on their faces as they strolled towards the door. "N-no, wait!" you choked out, tears falling freely down your cheeks as the nurse attended to you.

You were doomed from the start.

@yeonieess ,@archiviste0o0 , @xxmaddhatter39xx ,@hachrinnen, @tojishugetiddies ,@wrldtups ,@bblkesh, @ilovekeiarah, @tepes-wife ,@444ctrl ,@tqd4455 @myst

A/n: sorry my beautiful doves, midway I had lost motivation and I wanted to work on another things but I didn't want to not post it. So here it is, I hope you enjoyed it.

[apomaro-mellow]

Family Planning 8

Part 7

“So who did you end up leaving Kimberly with?”, Steve asked, figuring Eddie must’ve asked a favor of one of his friends and was hoping they took this project as seriously as he and Eddie did. 

“My uncle was free tonight, so I asked him to do it.”

“Your uncle is watching over a sack of flour?”, Steve looked at him incredulously.

Eddie would’ve given anything to see that expression, but kept his eyes on the road. It was almost worth swerving, though. A car crash would’ve been a low way to start a date though. Eddie could count on one hand the number of times he’d been on a date and it was never with someone like Steve. Someone he really wanted to impress. 

Tonight had to be perfect.

The perfect night started with a meal in the fanciest restaurant in town. Well, second fanciest. Eddie didn’t have Enzo’s money. But there was a decent place nearby that was more within his budget. It was the kind that usually had some kind of game playing on the tube so Eddie was counting on that to fill the void just in case there was a lull in the conversation.

His stomach dropped out of his ass when he drove up and there was a fire engine out front. He stopped and rolled his window down, grabbing the attention of someone nearby.

“What happened?”

“It was craaazy man! The kitchen went up in smoke! Or someone was lightin’ up in the bathroom, I don’t know. I just know it was wild!”

Eddie sighed as the guy walked off in a daze. He pursed his lips, really not wanting to look at Steve’s disappointed face. But then Steve’s stomach growled.

“Hungry?”, he grinned before wincing. “Sorry that plan fell through.”

“There’s always plan b”, Steve said, pointing down the street.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took in the gas station Steve was pointing at. He drove up and in the night the interior glowed through the windows like a beacon. Steve unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Wait here.”

He went inside and Eddie obeyed, staying put. Steve got a couple things and when he got to the register, Eddie was just barely able to see him. Steve was leaning over the counter, bent at the waist. He came out moments later and got back in the van. He’d gotten two root beers, two hot dogs, and a bag of chips to share. 

“I know it’s not quite what you had in mind but, I got it at a discount”, Steve said.

“By sweet talking the cashier no doubt”, Eddie guessed.

“Sure, but I save my sweetest for my date.”

Eddie almost fumbled, scratch that, he definitely fumbled opening his root beer. Thankfully, the cap was still secure, but it was clearly shaken up. Steve just snickered in his seat next to him, clearly enjoying the effect he had on Eddie. But that was good right? That meant he liked him.

They ate, really talking about nothing in particular until Steve brought up their pretend baby.

“I just can’t believe you gave her a name like that. I’ve never met anyone with five middle names.”

Eddie swallowed his last bit of hot dog. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“Figured what out?”

“Take the first letter of her middle names”, Eddie said, watching with great interest as Steve mouthed out her name. Farrah Lisbeth Odette Ursa Rebecca. They looked beautiful on his mouth. Though he supposed most things did, coming from such pretty lips. And then his eyes got wide and there was both a spark of anger but even greater humor.

“You made her initials spell out ‘flour’?!”

Eddie’s grin was so wide it threatened to break his face. He thought it was pretty clever in the moment and the way Steve laughed at the confirmation proved he was right.

“Kimberly F.L.O.U.R. Munson. God I pray for whatever kid you actually have.”

“Hey, I’ll spend more than five minutes on my actual pup’s name.”

Steve sobered up rather quickly. “So you actually want to one day? Have pups, I mean.”

“In a ‘if the right person comes along’ sorta way”, Eddie shrugged. “What about you?”

No one had ever really asked Steve before. Most just took it as a given that he would have them some day. Even his parents. They never pressured him with grandkid talk of course. But they were clearly planning on them. 

“I’ve never seen myself as motherly”, Steve admitted quietly. “But…”

“But?”, Eddie urged. 

“Sometimes I see newborn pups, little ones and I just…I want that. I want a tiny thing of my own, son or daughter who just looks at me and-” Steve stopped short, realizing how it sounded, at least to himself. 

Eddie reached out and boldly took his hand. “Hey, for what it’s worth, you’ve been doing pretty good with Kimmy. I think you’d make a great pare-shit! What time is it?!”

He checked his watch and then turned the van back on, putting it in reverse while Steve hastily put his seatbelt back on.

“Where’s the fire?”, Steve asked.

“Besides our plan A? I had a movie I wanted to take you to see and it starts soon.” Eddie had read and re-read the times for the romantic comedy of the season. An omega finds out she’s pregnant but doesn’t know who the father is between two alphas. Hilarity ensues. He figured it was right up Steve’s alley. 

But despite driving like a madman, when they got up to the ticket booth they were told that ‘It Takes 3’ was sold out, as were many of the other movies. The only thing that was still available was a horror. One that absolutely didn’t look like Steve’s thing. It was Eddie’s thing but he specifically chose a movie that would get Steve in a soft mood. He was really hoping to butter him up for a kiss goodnight when this date ended. 

“We’ll take two tickets to that”, Steve said, surprising him.

“Didn’t think you’d be into a flick like this”, Eddie said.

“Not really. They kinda give me the creeps”, Steve admitted as they got to their seats. “But I’ve got a big, strong alpha to keep me safe.” He hugged Eddie’s arm and laid his head on his shoulder just as the lights dimmed. 

Eddie, for all his wanting, didn’t actually know what to do when such a sweet smelling omega was pressed up against him. At least not while awake. He was saved from thinking as the movie started and it turned out Steve wasn’t just being cute. He flinched at the first scare and Eddie cooed softly in his ear, head leaning down on top of his. 

The content might not have been what he’d planned for, but the outcome was still the same. He had Steve cuddled up to him, something they had never really down before. When the movie ended and they walked out, Steve was still clinging to his arm. They parted to get back into the van and Eddie really didn’t want this night to end. But he knew how it must. He would drop Steve off, walking him to his door, and he would ask for a kiss.

On the way back, Steve had a surprising amount to say about the movie.

“I just don’t understand why they never call the cops in those movies”, he pointed out.

“If you’re a cop, are you gonna believe a bunch of teens when they tell you they’re being hunted down by the supernatural?”, Eddie argued.

He drove to the Harrington driveway and heard Steve sigh. They both took their time walking up to the door. Steve looked him in the eye and Eddie waited with his heart in his mouth.

“How are you at climbing up windows?”

“B-wha?”

Steve leaned in like he was giving a kiss but whispered instead. “There’s a ladder right under my window. Go and park down the street.” Then he kissed his cheek and went inside his house.

Eddie stood there star struck for half a second before bounding back to his vehicle, cranking it on and going where Steve told him to go. After parking, he snuck around the back of the house and saw the ladder. He also saw that Steve’s window was the only one lit up, a soft glow like he’d only turned the lamp on. 

As quietly as he could, he climbed up, hoping the squeaks sounded loud just to him. When he got close to the window and thus the edge of the ladder, he tapped on the glass. Steve opened it and pulled him inside, Eddie’s entrance muffled by some pillows on the floor.

“I would’ve let you in through the front door, but my parents are home”, Steve whispered.

Eddie brushed himself from imaginary dust while Steve closed the window. “No worries”, he spoke just as quietly.

 Even though he made it all the way up here, he was sure what Steve intended to do. He found out when Steve pushed him onto the bed and crawled on top of him. Steve on top and his bedspread under, Eddie was surrounded by the soft sweetness of his scent, one that was spiked with the tang of arousal now.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all night…”

Part 9

Taglist

@marklee-blackmore @aol19 @im-really-annoying @ellietheasexylibrarian @queenie-ofthe-void

@redfreckledwolf @lololol-1234 @cuntyfiedcatholicbisaster @themagicalari

[lavenderstarsx]

The Drawing (Bill Denbrough)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: One day when you were in the library a drawing falls out of a book you were reading- and the drawing eerily looks exactly like you.

Word Count: 1.5k

——————-

You made your way slowly to The Derry Library. The fall weather was now in full effect and you couldn’t help the feeling of the slight chill you felt while you walked. You were looking for more interesting books at the library- currently you were reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ which you knew was a classic- but it was required reading so by that criteria it made it fairly boring. You opened up the door to the brick building and stepped inside. Almost no one was there. It was in fact a weekend so not a lot of people liked to spend their two free days in a dusty old building that probably had a rat infestation. You did see someone you recognized there. The boy you saw was Ben Hanscom. He had his head in a book. You barely knew Ben- the only reason why you even recognized him was because he sat with Bill Denbrough at lunch. Ben had just joined the little friend group that called themselves ‘The Losers Club.’ Bill was in many of your classes. You pretended not to notice him but- man was it hard to. Bill took up most of your thoughts. You memorized the way he laughed- even though it was rare and almost only came out when the Tozier boy whispered an inappropriate joke into his ear during a lesson. Your friends didn’t approve of Bill. They usually called him a ‘freak’ or ‘weirdo.’ You mostly ignored them because in your eyes, Bill was perfect. He was kind, caring, and respectful. Something that half the school wasn’t. Then you snapped back out of your thoughts. You headed towards the fantasy section. You read a lot of fantasy books now ever since you rewatched The Princess Bride a couple weeks ago. You looked through a ton of books but none of them seemed good enough for you. Then you saw one- it looked rather basic. The book had a huge red dragon on the front with a knight giving a cheesy smile next to it. You quickly read the blurb on the back before slightly opening it. A medium sized piece of paper comes gracefully falling from the book. You quickly look around before picking the paper up. You froze. The drawing looked exactly like you. It had your signature y/h/c colored hair. It was like looking into a mirror. The drawing wasn’t signed but it did look weirdly familiar.

“Do you need any help, dear?” An older librarian woman asks you. You practically jump out of your skin when she says this.

“No ma’m i’m fine.” You say gingerly. You try to hide your blush as you find a table to start reading on. You picked the table behind Ben. You thought it would have been too awkward or weird to sit right next to the boy. You could barely focus on your book, you kept finding yourself staring at the drawing of you. You were terrified but also mesmerized at the same time. You decided to leave the library not long after. You held the drawing and your book close to your chest. On your way out of the library you gave Ben a small smile before opening the door back into the chilly air. You walked back home, and when you got to your room you quickly put your new book down and flopped onto your mattress. You stared at the drawing for a while. The detail was so intricate that it got your exact eye color down too.

Finally it was the end of the day, you were now in your pajamas and you were now ~finally~ reading the book you had gotten from the library. You found yourself enjoying the book a lot more. You slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you had to get ready for school. You chose a pair of jeans and a navy blue long sleeved shirt. You quickly brush your hair before rushing out the door. You made sure to grab the new book that you had just gotten and stuff it into your backpack. The bike ride to school was nice. You thankfully didn’t run into anyone from The Bowers Gang and you made it easily to school. The drawing was still in the back of your mind.

“Hey y/n!” You hear your friend, f/n shout to you. You quickly lock up your bike and rush towards them. You smile at them. They start talking about their weekend- which was not truly THAT interesting but you still smile and nod your head. You were more of a listener type. You and your friend walked to class together. But that’s when you saw him. Bill was walking to the same class as you. He was walking with Stanley Uris. Bill then had decided to hold open the door for you and f/n. You tried to hide your blush as you say,

“Thanks Bill”

“No pro-b-le-m y/n.” Bill then gave you a smile which made your heart melt to the core. You and f/n quickly went to your seats. You sat exactly behind Bill. The teacher started teaching the class but it was terribly hard to focus. Bill Denbrough, had given YOU a smile. You couldn’t help but to smile yourself. Bill also didn’t seem to be focusing. He seemed to be writing something in his notebook instead, you narrow your eyes to see if you could read anything of it. You didn’t want to seem stalker-ish so you pretended to be looking at the chalk board. But that’s when you see what Bill was doing- he wasn’t writing he was drawing. Bill wasn’t doing much to hide what he was doing. He seemed to be drawing a girl. Suddenly you feel Bill’s eyes shift. You and him caught eachother’s eyes. Shit. Bill then turns a bright shade of red and hides the notebook away from you.

That was odd.

The class went by quickly. In your head you tried to connect the dots. And that’s when you realize- what if Bill was the one to draw that picture of you? He had to- the style of drawing looked exactly like the picture of you did. Why would Bill draw you?

Throughout the day, you found yourself distracted. The thought of Bill and his drawings lingered as you walked to your next class. You kept replaying the events of the morning in your mind. Bill’s drawing, and the drawing from the library looked all too familiar. It was too much of a coincidence. Right?

Finally it came time for lunch. You spotted Bill with his friends. They were all gathered together. You feel a pang of jealousy as you sit with at your own lunch table. You glanced at Bill. He seemed distracted in thought. You decided to gather your courage and decided to walk towards The Losers’ table. When you reached the table everyone went silent. They all gave you a weird look. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Hey uh- Bill can I talk to you- for just a quick second?” You say.

Bill gave you a surprised look before nodding a yes. You and Bill find a quiet place on the stairwell that led to the cafeteria. You tried to ignore the curious stares of all of Bill's friends.

“Wh-at is i-t y/n?” Bill asked.

You take a deep breathe before pulling the drawing from your backpack.

“I- i found this in a book at the library yesterday,” You held out the drawing to Bill. “Did you uh- well draw it? I saw you drawing in class today and it looks alike to this one.” Bill’s eyes widened as he studied the drawing.

“Ye-a-h I did.” Bill admitted- he did look very embarrassed. You felt weird. You felt every emotion possible and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“But why did you draw me?” You said the sentence quickly. Bill blushed.

"Be-because I… I like you," Bill replied, looking down. He was clearly embarrassed.

You froze as blood rushed to your cheeks. "You do?" you asked.

"Y-yes. And I, uh, have for a wh-while," Bill stuttered.

"I like you too, Bill," you revealed. You felt as though you were going to pass out, you were so happy.

Bills eyes widened again. He looked down meeting your gaze.

“Re-ally?” Bill questioned. A very small, shy smile formed on his lips.

You smiled, unable to control the large grin on your face.“Yeah, really.”

For a moment both of you stood there like time itself had stopped. Bill took a tiny step forward.

“So- u-h wh-at now?” Bill asked sheepishly.

You let out a small laugh trying to ease the tension,

“Do you want to go to the movies with me this weekend?” You replied.

Bill’s smile grew,

“I w-ould li-ke that.”

[lunarmoves]

this gingerbread home

pairing: DCA sun/moon x reader

mentions: gingerbread house shenanigans, gender neutral reader (no pronouns used!), holiday goodness, not beta'd lol, sfw, post fire at the plex, relationship up to interpretation tbh

a/n: merry christmas @freakdoodles !! tis i, your secret santa! hope you enjoy this little fic full of cozy vibes and a gingerbread house gone wrong :3 happy holidays!

word count: 3.3k+

ao3 link

Your breath fogs against the window of your living room as you peer outside into the dark streets. Winter makes its presence known through the chill of the glass against your fingertips. Beyond it, snow falls gently to the ground to coat it in shimmering white. The deep blue shadows of the night dance across the layer of snow, chased away only slightly from the golden glow of a nearby streetlamp. 

You wiggle your toes through your fluffy socks, the warmth of your home seeping pleasantly into your skin. Faintly, you can smell cinnamon wafting through the air from the kitchen. You have half a mind to see what it’s coming from, but you are captivated by watching the tiny, crystalline snowflakes drift down from the sky. 

It’s a time before something moves somewhere behind you—reflected like a ghost in the window’s glass. You look over your shoulder just in time for a mug of something warm to take up the entirety of your vision. 

“For you, my dear!” Sun beams at you, gently nudging the mug against your cheek. The smell of cinnamon is stronger now, intertwined with something distinctly chocolatey. 

“Thanks, bud.” You give him a smile and reach up to grab the mug from his hand. It’s like cupping your palms around a small flame, warming your hands and sinking into your skin. You smile down at the small mountain of whipped cream topping the drink and hiding the rich, velvet brown of the hot chocolate. You take a sip—and immediately regret it. 

“Careful!” Sun warns with the hint of a snicker as he watches you stick your tongue out in dismay. The tip of it is a bright red. “It is still rather hot, I’m afraid.” 

“You couldn’t have said that beforehand?” You roll your eyes half-heartedly and instead scoop up a bit of the whipped cream with your tongue before reeling it back into your mouth. The whipped cream is cool as it melts sweetly in your mouth. Better, if minutely. 

“I would have thought it’d been obvious it was right off the stove,” he retorts with all the affection in the world, giving your shoulder a little squeeze. “I have sorely misjudged your eagerness, I think.” 

You sniff and go in for another, more cautious, sip. It’s worth the slight burn on your tongue, the chocolate deliciously coating it and causing something pleasantly hot to settle within the inside of your belly. You sigh happily and have to force yourself to take on a more mockingly somber tone as you mess with him. “And after all the time we have spent together…” 

Sun chuckles and wraps a lithe arm around your shoulders so he can gently pull you from your spot by the window. “And I thought I was the dramatic one! Enough of that, silly. I have everything set up and ready for us!” 

You grin, all sharp teeth and delight. “Oh, sweet!” Your gaze roves over to the living room as Sun starts to guide you there. Sitting atop the little coffee table in front of the television are the unpackaged materials of the gingerbread house kit you’d bought a couple of days ago at Sun’s insistence. Once he had seen it in the store, he’d been rather adamant about getting it for one reason or another. 

(“Come on, Sunshine!” he practically begs you as he holds the kit up in front of your face and wiggles it enticingly. “It’s the perfect activity to do together!” 

“Mmmh, I don’t know, Sun,” you say, pretending like you’re thinking it over. You’d been sold on the idea as soon as you’d seen him pick it up, but it’s still fun to tease him from time to time regardless. Not that you’ll ever admit that out loud. “It gets pretty messy and I know how you can get with messes…” 

“It’ll be fun either way!” he insists, tucking the kit under his sweater-covered arm so he can clasp his hands together and stare at you with wide, white eyes. “Just think about it: you, moon, and I making a little house together out of frosting and candy!” His voice takes on a bit of a dreamy, enchanted quality.

You hum, letting the seconds tick by as you put on a show of heavily deliberating it. You rub at your chin with your fingers. “Okay, fine,” you say with a smile, crossing your arms behind your head. “You’ve convinced me.” 

“Yippee!” he cheers and swiftly sets the kit into your shopping cart. His rays do a happy little spin that you find so utterly endearing combined with his eagerness. “You won’t regret it!”) 

Sun lets go of your shoulder once you both get close enough to the coffee table and you set your mug on a nearby coaster before plopping down onto the floor. Tucking yourself closer to the table, you regard the pieces of gingerbread and small packets of candy.

“Have you and Moon decided on how you want to divide the work?” you ask as you slide one of the candy packs closer so you can squint at the designs. This pack contains little green gummy Christmas trees coated in granulated sugar. Cute.

Sun lets out an “mmhm!” as he folds himself into place next to you—pretzeling his long limbs into fitting under the coffee table. His knee juts out slightly over your thigh, and you poke at it gently with a grin. It only makes him lean his leg’s weight further onto you—the checkered pattern of his red and black pajama pants contrasting against the deep blue of your own.

“We have come to the agreement that I would help with assembling the house and we would both get half of it to help you decorate!” he says proudly, splaying out one of his hands on his chest. The Christmas sweater you’d gotten for him hangs a little loosely from his skinny torso, but it’d been the closest size you could get for his disproportionate body.

“Moon doesn’t want to help with the, I dunno, ‘architecture’?” you wonder with a raised eyebrow, making small air quotes with your fingers. 

“Nnnnope!” Sun replies cheerfully. He reaches out to pull the materials closer to you both, his voice lowering into a not-so-quiet whisper as he leans down closer to your ear. “Between you and me, I think he’s just being lazy.” 

Knowing fully well that Moon is likely listening in on the conversation, you snort. “Yeah, that sounds just like him.” 

Sun only grins at the flatness of your tone and turns back to the table. “Alrighty! Enough stalling! This house isn’t going to build itself!” He grabs the gingerbread kit’s packaging and flips the box over to read the instructions on the back of it. “First we need to add icing along the edges of the walls…” 

The instructions seem simple enough. While you pipe icing in the designated places, Sun carefully sticks the pieces together and holds them in place for a few minutes so they don’t immediately fall apart. The smell of gingerbread overtakes the gentle hint of cinnamon from your drink. The bag of icing in your fingers is soft and pliable from Sun having defrosted it in warm water earlier. 

Once three of the four walls of the gingerbread house are standing, the instructions say to let them sit for fifteen minutes. Unfortunately for the gingerbread house, however, Sun is not that patient. 

“Bud, it’s barely been ten minutes,” you say in amusement as you watch Sun start applying icing to the last wall to attach it to the others. 

He waves a hand at you in dismissal, already pressing the last wall firmly to the edges of the previously erected ones. “It’s fine, Friend! Everything is still standing on its own, I do not think we need to wait that long.” 

The hint of impatience you can glean from his voice makes you huff out a small laugh. “I thought you liked to follow instructions?” 

“Yes, well.” His rays tick back and forth as he holds the walls together to let the icing settle properly. “In this instance we can take them more as a suggestion.” 

You think he just really wants to decorate the gingerbread house itself, considering that’s his forte. Rolling your eyes, you drawl, “Alright, if you say so.” Who are you to stop him? Hopefully the icing holds properly, though you can’t help but warily eye the skeleton of a house as you fiddle with the chain of one of your necklaces. 

With all the walls of the gingerbread house now assembled, it leaves the slanted roof to be carefully placed on top. You add the icing to the two pieces in the required locations, then lick off the extra that had gotten on your fingers (it’s sweet, almost overbearingly so) while Sun meticulously joins the pieces together to complete the bare-bones gingerbread house. 

“Okay!” he says as his hands hover just above the top of the roof, scrutinizing it to make sure the pieces don’t slide off. Miraculously, they hold. You’re a bit impressed. “How much icing is left?”

You show him the piping bag in your hands, and he contemplates it for a moment before nodding. 

“Perfect! Hand it over.” He opens a hand and makes a grabbing motion that causes you to chuckle to yourself. He’s got his game face on, determination lining all the intricate metal and silicon features of his faceplate. You set the bag atop his palm, and he closes his long fingers around it. “Now for the fun part!” 

You end up watching as he carefully squeezes a steady stream of icing from the bag to trace the outlines of the doors and windows on one side of the gingerbread house. It’s a bit captivating; he is exact with his application, the lines of icing neat and straight. He offers the bag to you at one point to see if you want to add icing along the roof, but you decline in favor of sipping at your still-warm drink and watching him. 

“Wow,” you say when he finishes with the icing. “It looks straight out of a stock photo.” 

He’s iced exactly half of the house right down the middle—even the front door only has half of it done. He really is sticking to the fifty-fifty arrangement with Moon. And honestly? He’s done a better job than you can ever hope to imagine. You would be envious, but well, he’s a robot. It makes sense. 

Sun looks proud of himself as he sets the icing down. “Of course! I am nothing but precise!” He reaches over to grab a pack of small candied leaves and pops it open. “And now, the decor~” 

You lend a hand and pop open a candy packet yourself—this one has tiny, multi-colored hard chocolates in the shape of Christmas lights. But after lazily sticking some of them into the icing Sun swirled along the edges of the roof and watching him fiddle with them afterwards—making them neater or swapping some out so the colors are in a better arrangement—you decide to let Sun take care of it all. You designate yourself to supplying him with the candy, finding amusement in his concentration as he makes a direct copy of the image displayed on the gingerbread house’s package. 

It’s almost scary how accurate it is, from the loops of icing on the roof to the gumdrops lining the windows. 

“Aaand done!” Sun exclaims as he wipes his hands of icing on a spare napkin and stands up. He observes the house from all angles and gives it a solid nod. 

“Looks great, buddy,” you compliment as you lean against the table. By now, your mug of hot chocolate is empty, and you secretly mourn the loss. 

“Now all Moon has to do is live up to my highly placed expectations,” Sun says brightly as he walks over to the light switch. He pauses, then adds sarcastically, “As I’m sure he will.” 

You grin, following his movement with your eyes. “Aw, don’t put him down when he’s not even here to defend himself.” 

Sun scoffs and places one hand over the switch, while the other knocks gently at his head. “I assure you, he is not even attempting to.” 

With a flick of his fingers, the lights go out. You avert your gaze as you listen to the shifting metal of his body. The living room is dark, but not overtly so. The lights from the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room are bright enough for you to see, but not so much that it will impede Moon, you think. 

Speak of the devil, you jump slightly when Moon plops himself down directly next to you and immediately leans into your space. 

“What a lovely gingerbread house,” he rasps out as his arm presses into your own, the bell of his nightcap brushing against your shoulder. You eye his expression—the mischief making itself known in the curve of his mouth and crinkle of his eyes. “Sure would be a shame if someone were to… mess it up.” 

“Moon,” you warn, shoving at him slightly so he can stop leaning all of his weight onto you. He relents with a snicker and rights himself properly. “Don’t you dare ruin Sun’s hard work.” 

“Wouldn’t think of it,” he drawls with a sharp grin, slouching forward as he grabs the icing bag from where Sun had left it atop the table. “One might say I would improve upon it, actually.” 

“Somehow I heavily doubt that,” you reply flatly and watch as he squeezes the piping bag in his hands. Some icing shoots out of the tip and lands haphazardly on Moon’s side of the gingerbread house. He doesn’t seem bothered by it. You have a feeling you know how this is going to end up. 

“Shh,” he says and spins the plate holding the gingerbread house around so he can better access its bare sections. Red eyes flick over it with no small amount of slyness. “Let Santa Moon work his magic, Starlight.” 

Five minutes into watching Moon apply icing to his half of the gingerbread house, you realize by “magic” he meant “utter chaos.” 

He doesn’t even bother to make his lines neat—in fact he seems to be actively going out of his way to be as sloppy as possible. Whereas Sun was careful not to make too much of a mess on the table, Moon does not care. Icing gets everywhere. Crumbs from the gingerbread litter the area around the plate. You watch as a small ball of candy rolls off the table and lands somewhere on the plush rug covering the floor. Sun’s going to have a conniption with this—may already be having one, actually.

You’re more amused than anything, especially when Moon finishes with the icing and starts slapping the candy everywhere on the gingerbread house. There is no rhyme or reason to it, just utter vibes, you think. He passes you a packet of the tiny Christmas lights candy, and you join in helping him to decorate his half—trying to salvage it at least a little bit. 

The resulting gingerbread house, at the end of it all, is something that makes you break out into peals of laughter. 

“Oh god.” You chuckle, wiping your fingers off on a napkin. “It looks awful.” 

And indeed, where one side of the gingerbread house is neat and perfect, the other looks like it came straight from an elementary schooler’s nightmare craft project. The juxtaposition makes you snicker to yourself.

Moon grins, his eyes flicking down to his hands to observe the icing covering his fingers. Somehow, he’s gotten a dollop on his faceplate. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” 

You snort and gesture at him to lean down. He obliges, the warm light from his optics gently caressing your face as you reach up to wipe away the icing near his static smile with your napkin. And when you pull away, his faceplate almost seems to chase after your fingers before he stops himself and instead watches you attempt to clean up the table. 

“Okay, fun’s over,” you say lightly as you eyeball all the crumbs. It may be a good idea to run your vacuum around the table as well, considering. “Help me clean thi—” 

But before you can finish your sentence, your eyes catch onto the gingerbread house—that tips precariously to one side as the roof pieces start to slide inevitably downwards. 

“Oh shit—!” Your hands dart forward in an attempt to catch the falling pieces. Icing gets re-smeared all over your hands. Candy gets displaced as your fingers fumble around them. You do your best to straighten the gingerbread house, grimacing all the while. Ah, you had a feeling this was going to happen.

Moon giggles as he watches your vain struggle to fix what he and Sun had worked so hard on (Sun moreso than Moon). You manage to get it standing properly again, but one of the walls has collapsed completely and the others look like they aren’t faring any better now that the icing is giving in. 

You sigh, feeling a wry smile tugging at your lips. “I knew we should’ve waited the full fifteen minutes.” Not that you think that would have made much of a difference. 

“Down it goes~” Moon croons, not even lifting a finger to lend some assistance. His eyes are upturned in delight as he sways slightly side to side. “How the mighty fall.” 

“Yeah.” You pull your hands away and watch, slowly, as the gingerbread house collapses into itself and lays on the plate in a sad heap. Moon is silent as he watches with you, though you can tell he wants to laugh. It makes you suppress your own chuckle. “You think there’s any salvaging that?” 

“No,” is Moon’s short response as he pokes at one of the gummy Christmas trees, then picks it up to mime eating it. You do a nose exhale when his eyes flick over to you to see if you’re watching. 

“Well, what does Sun think?” you ask, feeling your lips twitch at his antics.

“He is mourning.” 

“Pfft, sorry Sun.” You make a move to run your hand through your hair, but catch yourself when you see the icing coating your fingers. “Ah, that’s okay. It was fun while it lasted! We can do something else.” You turn to look at Moon, who meets your gaze with his own curious one. “Any suggestions?” 

There is a moment where Moon regards you, his head tilting to the side. Then, you watch as his pupils flick down to his icing-covered hands before looking back up at you. His smile stretches across his faceplate. 

Oh. You know that look. 

“Moon,” you warn as you scooch away from him. “No. Don’t even think about it!” 

“Think about what?” he asks slyly, starting to lean your way. 

“Abou— Moon!” 

You are too slow to dodge his swipe at your face—icing gets smeared from the corner of your mouth and up your cheek. Faintly, you can register its sweet taste. Your jaw drops open at the audacity of it all, and you scramble up to your feet to put more distance between you and him lest he repeat the action. He doesn’t follow you, only slowly stands in his spot as you shuffle backwards whilst giving him the stink eye. 

“Moon, I swear to god if you do that shit again,” you threaten him as you hold your hands out defensively in front of you, “I’ll—” 

“You’ll what?” Moon asks with a mischievous grin, already bending at the knees in a pose that you are all too familiar with. Uh oh. His eyes squint into ruby slivers. 

Your mouth closes, and you ponder your options for a few seconds before giving him a short nod. “Okay. Yeah. I’m gonna run now.” 

“Good,” is all he says before he abruptly lunges towards you. 

And as Moon chases you throughout your home, the poor remains of the gingerbread house are forgotten and replaced by the sound of your laughter and the gentle tinkle of his bells.