#sleeping bags vendors

[lori11hen2ry]

Bulk Sleeping Bags

Sleeping Bags: Designed for outdoor adventures, sleeping bags provide optimal insulation and protection from the elements, ensuring a snug and comfortable night's sleep wherever your journey takes you.

[creganslover]

My Queen

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN! Targaryen Dragonseed! Bastard! Reader

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Throwing your life away to travel to Dragonstone was not your initial idea, nor was claiming a dragon... and getting to bond with the Queen herself.

Word count: 3.0k

Warning/s: canon-divergence, foul language, graphic descriptions of death, lmk if i missed anything!

Note: first time writing for rhaenyra! i apologize if she might be ooc, but i really enjoyed writing this and had gotten taken away i think- anw, likes, reblogs, and feedbacks are greatly appreciated! <3

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Falling into the dragon’s pit was not necessarily your idea.

Nor traveling to Dragonstone for that matter.

You were but one of the many common folk in King’s Landing, instead of sporting the signature platinum hair of the Targaryens, you sported their rare purple eyes instead, your hair was anything but platinum, but you weren’t royal, you were a bastard, often lingering gazes would be on you as you passed down the streets minding your own business.

Targaryen bastards weren’t uncommon, no, but you would all get the same looks of pity and shame even if they do not voice it out loud. 

Though you wouldn’t trade it for anything as your father had raised you, saying that your mother was a wonderful woman that gave you to him, however they did not get the ending of getting to be together till death.

Two and a half decades had passed as your father had fallen ill and shortly succumbed to it due to lack of treatment in which you desperately tried to work for.

And when the time came when you’ve heard rumors spreading through the streets of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Black Queen, wishing to call upon anyone who had a form of Targaryen lineage to come to Dragonstone, especially those who were not afraid of death, those who would join were required to travel in two nights time.

It made you curious, the eldest daughter of Viserys calling upon Targaryen bastards and to be not afraid of death? You could almost chuckle as you traded your craft to a vendor on the street, until you heard she was finding those courageous enough to claim a dragon.

A fucking dragon. 

Something in the back of your mind nagged at you to throw all caution to the wind and try your luck in the game of roulette, to either die consumed by flames, or fight for the side of the Blacks with a dragon of your own. 

It was tempting. But last night as you peeked out your window to see people leaving their houses, of all ages, some also harboring silver hair, some not. Glancing to the knapsack you had perched upon the wall, filled with necessities you had prepared if you ever grew tired of King’s Landing, you bit the inside of your cheek. 

The footsteps began to fade out before you cursed and slung the bag over your shoulder, putting out your fires and candles before you glanced one last time at your house, hesitating.

Your father would have always wanted greater things for you, right? Though you’re not sure if those greater things involved risking your life for a dragon of all things. 

Slamming the door and clicking your locks shut, you quickly joined the throng of people, easily blending in as you reached past an exit out of King’s Landing, watching as you walked down the hill, the dawn barely breaking. A smart move leaving in the night without many eyes to bear witness. 

Getting in the boat taking you to the ship, you gave a last glance towards King’s Landing, your home. Your brows knitted before you let out a breath, glancing towards the people on the ship with you, some looking uncertain, some determined, some talking and possibly sharing the bizarre notion of it all. 

You sat alone by the front of the ship, arms resting on your knees as you sighed, shaking your head and possibly getting some sleep before you had arrived at your destination. 

Being shaken awake, you quickly complied, standing up and being a little disoriented from the trip, before your eyes had adjusted and there, you saw the intimidating Dragonstone Island. The castle sits on top of the hill, a mountain of smoke behind it, adding to its allure. 

The sun was up in the sky now, as you reached the shore, one by one getting out as your boots hit the white sand, moving forward as you all climbed up the steps towards the castle. Nearing it, you spot a figure up on the balcony, donned in red robes, platinum hair styled to a braid cascading down on one shoulder. 

Your eyes met, it was Rhaenyra Targaryen, assessing the strangers she was letting into her domain. You did not think about it much, truly you were the ones surprised she had even let you come this far. 

From then you were all inside, many knights standing guard as you were all led into a dimly lit room, and the faint deep growling rattling the walls could only mean one thing…

You were growing anxious, now backtracking your decision as you glanced at everyone in the room around you, they have surely heard it as well. 

The sound of approaching sets of footsteps pulled you from your dreaming, and there she was again, her Queensgard behind her walking down the stairs as you watched the scene unfold, another group coming from the other hall, dressed in long robes tied with red, some holding onto staff. You’ll soon catch whispers that it was the dragonkeepers. 

Your brows furrowed as the Queen herself and one from the dragonkeepers had conversed in High Valyrian, and by the tone of it, it looked like it was at a disagreement as the man gestured to all of you waiting in the room.  

After Rhaenyra had given her speech, most of the time her eyes always seemed to find yours as you stood at the back, and everytime it happened, there seemed to be a kindling energy within you. Perhaps it was just being in the close presence of royalty. 

“The dragon… named Vermithor, is the largest in the world after Vhagar, and… perhaps the most fierce,” Rhaenyra started. “He’s called the Bronze Fury.” Another deep grumbling in the distance could be heard. “We’ll go to him now.” 

As she started walking, she halts, turning to face all of you again. “May the gods bless you.” 

Following suit out into the hall and onto where a platform lay towards the deep cavern. The dragonpit, you all come close as Rhaenyra started to speak in High Valyrian, speaking of Vermithor. 

There was silence, until heavy footsteps grained the tunnel, your stance tensing as you never knew what awaited your faith. 

The deep roaring answered that. From the shadows came Vermithor, as large as she had depicted, its body partially hidden within the dark as it came to view, face scaled and horns as big shaping its head. Vermithor screeches as Rhaenyra commands the imposing creature, soon calming as she holds out her hand to palm against its snout. 

“Who among you would be first?” She asked, voice echoing in the dark tunnel. 

From then on, it was chaos. Vermithor flamed the first person to have gone up against him, before screams erupted, your senses jumping to overdrive as the thought of survival was paramount. This is what Rhaenyra had meant.

You dodged as the flames rained, Vermithor’s roars ringing in your ears, eyes scanning the area for some sort of cover as you saw the many knights preventing the other volunteers from being able to escape in order to live, fueling your spite. 

It was a gruesome scene as Vermithor not only burned, yet also decided to treat the folks as his food, a man’s scream fading as Vermithor swallowed him whole, before hunting the others down, their screams haunting. 

“Fuck!” You grumbled before you dashed to survival, instead being pushed and shoved all over, you tried to steady yourself, but you had stumbled, making your heel miss the platform. 

And that’s where you found yourself now after these events, a flickering torch in hand, running within the tunnels in the hopes to escape the clutches of death from a dragon. You had not even known if Vermithor had been claimed or everyone had been given death, and you dared not put notice on the sharp pain in your ankle as you had sprained it from your fall. 

You’ve lost track of time, not wondering how long or how far you’ve gone off to within the large tunnel. Your legs were starting to give out from exhaustion, your breathing uneven as you stepped onto the mud, making you try to stumble, about to land on your face when your foot had finally hit the ground.

Followed by what it sounded like cracking. Looking down, there were wisps of smoke, and oddly enough, large looking eggs nestled within the cocoon you had stepped on, making you furrow your brows as your body couldn’t even process the events this day had.

Up until you had heard a large grumbling behind you. Seven hells.

Steeling yourself with what little resolve you had left, you turned on your painful heel, torch in hand as you faced it. 

The dragon began to rouse itself, your eyes widening as you tried to move, its roar echoing and making you shrink onto yourself as your body was frozen, staring up at it as it had faced you fully. 

Its long neck moves fluidly as it stared you down, its gray scales gleaming from the cavity up in the tunnel. It was about to lunge at you.

Tired and weary, you’ve begun to accept your fate. 

Until its snout finally reached you and—

Poked you. It sent you tumbling back against the ground with a huff, making you scramble back and try to hoist yourself back up again until it happened again, the dragon’s snout nudging against your form, knocking you down and rolling until you had your back against the wall. Its screeching even sounded amused, as if making fun of you.

However, it stopped as you had your eyes screwed shut. 

You had fully thought you had died and gone to the Seven heavens, peeling your eyes open, your heart stopped in your chest. You watched as the dragon crooned and bowed its head toward you-

Realization had come dawning in, it chose you. A dragon had chosen you.

You did it, you had claimed a dragon. If your father would’ve witnessed such a thing, he would have no doubt about it. He always knew you were born for greater things. 

Due to your exhaustion, you could only laugh breathlessly, finally being able to calm down without the fear of death looming onto you.

“Get me out of here, will you?” You jokingly said, taking in deep breaths as you slowly stood up, hissing at the pain in your ankle, hesitating, but starting to limp towards the dragon as it eyed you, craning its neck, showing the apparent saddle on its back, worn and rusty. It seemed like she hadn’t had a rider in a long time. 

Before you knew it, you were on a dragon’s back, shooting out into the cavity as the grey-scaled dragon roared at feeling the breeze outside, its wings spread full as it gathered air and momentum. 

You literally had to hold on for dear life as you began to get woozy, exclaiming in triumph as you had rounded Dragonstone. 

Rhaenyra had been alerted of this as she ran out the balcony, watching as Silverwing screeched with its new rider on the she-dragon’s back. 

After the scene, you had been brought down and onto your own personal chambers where you would be staying, as a Maester had been bought for you to treat your ankle, giving you milk of the poppy to numb the pain. 

You were also given handmaidens that helped you into cleaner clothes, thanking them as you tried to refuse their service, not used to being treated as such in the span of a few hours. 

Resting against your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, wondering where your life would lead to now, it was such a funny feeling that you would believe it if someone had told you it were nothing but a dream. 

The door creaking as its response to being opened pulled you from your thoughts, making you glance and wonder if it's just the maester coming to check upon you, when your eyes almost popped out of its sockets to see Rhaenyra herself. 

Sitting up right and swinging your feet off the bed, you cleared your throat. “Your grace,” You greeted, standing, though weakly as your ankle was still sore and wrapped in bandages. Rhaenyra held her hand up, motioning. “You are hurt, stay seated.” Her voice comes in a soft tone. 

Following as you sit back down upon your bed, Rhaenyra glides through the room, hands clasped together. It felt like being surrounded by an angel, she did certainly look like one as you were able to get a closer look every folk would want to kill for, even. 

“You have done a good job,” Began Rhaenyra. “Two of you have managed to claim Vermithor and Silverwing.” You made a mental note that your dragon was named Silverwing, fitting.

“I did not think I would find my way out of it alive if I am honestly speaking, your grace.” You replied, making Rhaenyra nod in response, noticing your eyes were a deep shade of purple. “Those lives lost today are for a greater cause in the future, it would prevent further bloodshed.” She responded. 

Taking a deep breath, you understood her point. Staring up to find her still looking at you, sending you to avert her gaze. “Your eyes are quite comely.” Rhaenyra had suddenly said, catching you both off guard. 

An awkward silence rose, before Rhaenyra cleared her throat. “I apologize,” She said as you managed to let out a small grin, shaking your head. “No harm done, your grace.”

This in turn made Rhaenyra smile, finding light in the situation. Clearing her throat, she shifted to a more serious expression. “As you have claimed Silverwing, from this day forth you are to train the ways of dragonriders, learn High Valyrian, and pledge your loyalty to your Queen.” 

The new responsibilities you had seemed a far reach back then, but here you were now stood in front of Rhaenyra Targaryen herself, asking you to pledge your loyalty to her. 

Carefully moving, you had bent the knee in front of her, not putting much strain on your swollen ankle as you bowed. “I pledge my fealty to you, the true Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, I offer all that I am, to aid you in your cause.” 

Rhaenyra looked relieved as you bent the knee for her. “Stand.” She commanded, making you follow a second later, meeting her eyes again. “You will begin at once when your ankle has healed, for now you shall rest and someone will call upon you.”

With a bow to her grace, you watched as Rhaenyra turned and left your chambers. 

This was the beginning of a new chapter in your life. 

As your ankle had healed, the lessons did began, with Maester Gerardys teaching you key command words in High Valyrian, practicing the phrases during the afternoons, whilst you were practicing dragonriding in the morning. 

You had also managed to meet those able to claim House Targaryen’s dragons, Hugh who had claimed Vermithor, and Addam who had claimed Seasmoke. 

Though it seemed like Rhaenyra had taken a liking to you in the midst of these preparations, your fiery spirit is something to always look out for as Silverwing proved to match your energy. 

The feast she held between you and the other three as well as her son Jacaerys and her step daughter Baela. You had managed to hold a conversation with Rhaenyra well, telling her of your background as a trader in King’s Landing and how your father had solely raised you. Jacaerys had even begun to respect you even if he was still apprehensive in welcoming new dragonriders who were not of blood. 

Nonetheless, Rhaenyra found herself taken by your charm and wit, even taking the time to show you around Dragonstone herself whenever she was free from council meetings, your presence a respite from the pressure she had been feeling, translating her appreciation in lingering touches and stares.

There was one time you had been flying around Dragonstone, getting to try banking left and right as you tugged on the ropes on your newly reformed saddle, when Silverwing had decided to do a barrel roll, sending you both spinning in the sky with her strong form growling in delight. 

Rhaenyra had been watching that time, and her heart nearly leapt to her throat as you lost hold onto your saddle, her grip tightening against the stone ledge, eyes widening.

Though the sight of you pumping your fist in the air and whooping successfully had her releasing a breath she wasn’t aware she had held in watching you. The spike of worry led her to assess what you had meant to her. 

“Did you like the trick I did up there, your grace?” You casually asked as you met her, smiling and beginning to shrug off your gloves. “You had me worried at the start, but you and Silverwing do make a great pair.” Rhaenyra replied. “In fact, your move would make a great maneuver to dodge whatever the Greens might throw at us.” 

You couldn’t tell if she had been joking or not, but the slight smirk on her face made you reciprocate, your stomach oddly knotting at the feeling. 

“Perhaps I can teach you how to do so on Syrax, yet I believe the safety of our Queen is of greatest importance.” You lightly teased, feeling like you were walking on eggshells. 

But that does make Rhaenyra laugh, cheeks flushing pink, in truth, she had begun to get fond of you, and she hummed in thought. “My safety is of great importance, yes, but you’ve proven yourself a capable dragonrider and warrior,” She gestured, as you had been taking combat lessons to the side in your free time, keeping yourself in shape as well as your skills. 

“I would be at peace and content knowing I have you to protect and fight for me.” It was a simple phrase, yet it seemed to click at the two of you that it held something even deeper under the surface. 

Both of you could feel it. “And I am honored to be one of those protecting and fighting for you, my Queen.” 

[ithebookhoarder]

(BAU Headcanons) Spending a day off with your S.O.

Aaron Hotchner

Ok. So. First of all... Aaron's casual wardrobe is sinful and I feel like I need to mention it when talking about days off. After all, he's not going to turn down the excuse not to wear a shirt and tie, knowing jeans and his usual polo shirts are better suited to both relaxing and possibly chasing after Jack.

If you two ever got a rare day off then he would do his best to make you breakfast in bed, knowing that having an excuse to stay in bed is a luxury.

If Jack is with you, and not at Jessica's, then you know Jack would be right next to him in the kitchen, begging to help. I mean, if you watch Bluey, picture the episode where Bingo is trying to make that omelette for Bandit on his birthday... that's basically the vibe here.

Hotch wouldn’t try to force you out of the house if you didn’t want to go, as he’s perfectly happy to stay in and play with you and Jack. After all, you have the most recent lego set, which you bought him for his birthday, to finish building.

"You up for that buddy? Six hands are better than four, after all."

Or, if you don't have the energy or patience, then you three can curl up on the sofa together and watch movies and the backlog of tv shows you’ve missed out on whilst you’ve been away working. 

Fun Fact: Aaron would rather die than admit to the rest of the BAU that you got him hooked on reality shows like The Real Housewives of Beverley Hills or Below Deck -but he is. He finds them fascinating case studies in human behaviour... or that's his excuse anyway when you call him out on it.

However, if you do want to actually leave the house and get outside then he’d be pretty relaxed about whatever it is you wanted to do, as long as you could all do it together. 

He'd also love it if you both got the chance to go for a run, enjoying the rare opportunity to race you through the nearby park. You can just soak in the sunshine and watch the other people as they make their way through the world, before grabbing a coffee on your way home.  

David Rossi 

Rossi is a man who knows the value of creature comforts, as we've seen repeatedly in the show. You know this man enjoys having time off to indulge himself - and you too.

As soon as he knows he has the day off, you can bet he's driving you to the local farmer's market to buy all the ingredients needed for a home cooked feast. 

Despite promising to be there only an hour, you know he's the kind of person who would talk to each and every vendor, learning all their names and asking after their families as if they've been friends since birth.

You'd end up spending almost the entire morning - and part of the afternoon - shopping, sampling various treats and wares, and buying several bag's worth, before you're finally able to drag him back to the car.

As he's cooking, Rossi would definitely play his favourite records. He alternates between crooning along and telling you tidbits about the artists - and the many crazy memories he has about these records.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I first heard this? We were in this tiny little motel, in the middle of a horrific blizzard, and several whiskeys in..."

It's hard not to get distracted, drawn in as he pulls you close and starts dancing about the kitchen. You'd get so distracted that you almost let dinner spoil and only remember it's even there when you start to smell something burning.

"Ah! Merda!"

After dinner you know you'd end up outside on his patio, enjoying the view as the sun goes down, over a cocktail of his choosing.

Derek Morgan

You know this eager beaver would not be spending a day off with you doing nothing or letting the day ‘go to waste’.

He’d be at your doorstep bright and early, looking unfairly energetic for someone who has been running on minimal sleep all week.

Thankfully, he brings coffee and breakfast with him which is his way of bribing you to get your ass up and out with him. 

As for the day itself, he’d either have the day planned to a ’t’ or he’d have nothing planned at all. 

“Relax, sweetness, we’re letting the day take us where it may. Enjoy the ride.” 

He'd love having a reason to take you to whatever property he's renovating, hoping to share his vision for the place and getting your opinion on it all.

He'd even let you have a swing or two with a sledgehammer if there's a dry-wall that needs taking down. It's a great stress-reliever for you both, and there's nothing like hammering along in the time to beat of whatever playlist he's chosen.

He'd also order you a pizza, or whatever take-out you fancied, as payment for all your hard work.

You know he'd also been keen to help you wash up later, running you both a hot bath to soak in as you actually have the time to enjoy it.

And just between us - he knows Hotch and Rossi would have his guts his they found out - but he may or may not have left your cellphones on the bed-side table just to ensure you get an hour of peace, undisturbed...

Emily Prentiss

Ok. So. Emily loves having a day off almost as much as she enjoys working.

She doesn't require much in the way of plans. In fact, her ideal day off from the BAU involves you, a crossword puzzle, and your usual table by the window at the coffee shop around the corner.

It's right by the window, so you can bathe in the sun whilst you nurse your way through coffee after coffee.

The whole place reminds her of one similar that she spent her time in, in Paris. Just like then, she loves reading books, and completing the daily crossword with your help.

"Damn it. This is what time in Europe gets you - I forgot there's no 'u' in color. No wonder it wasn't fitting."

Emily also has a game she likes to play, watching the people around you, guessing what their stories are and imaging outlandish profiles for them all. It's a privilege to enjoy it when it's for entertainment and not out of a need to be aware of your surroundings or an ongoing threat assessment. 

Afterwards, you'd go for a stroll around the park and most likely visit the shops you rarely get a chance to.

You both spend ages going through the racks and modelling outfits for one another, knowing you need some new things to fill out your wardrobes other than work-attire. It's a like private treat for yourselves.

Once you're home again, I feel Emily would want to cook and would do a pretty good job when she has the energy. However, she is not above ordering takeout when you both can’t be bothered. 

After all, it gives you both more time together to lie in bed, with Sergio curled up between you, purring loudly as you take it in turns to pet him.

JJ

Depending on when you two got together (before or after Will), she would love to have a chance for the both of you to spend the day with Henry.

You're her family and the most important thing in the world to her. It's why she can't stop beaming as you spend the afternoon at the park together, running rings around the place and clambering all over the playground.

"I swear this kid is faster than most of the Unsubs we chase - and more sneaky too."

JJ would bring all your favourite snacks with her so you can all lie out on the grass and feast once your energy levels drop. She doesn't even mention the sugar content or how many E-numbers there are. You all deserve a treat, Henry included, so she's willing to put her 'mom hat' aside for a minute.

I feel like she'd also try and put her mom hat aside so you two can have some time without a child in tow. She'd try and make a last minute arrangement to get a sitter so you two can have some 'adult' time.

This normally involves making a reservation at your favourite restaurant, and insisting on you both dressing fancy just for the fun of it.

After all, you never get to play at being grown ups and just enjoy wearing something because it looks nice and not because you can run around in the field in it.

"I've had these heels for years and I swear I've only got to wear them like three times - and this skirt! I love this skirt."

Once you get to the restaurant, you spend hours just talking, drinking, and eating before taking a stroll on the way home.

You then curl up in bed and fall asleep to the sound of the TV playing your favourite movies, safe and warm in each other's arms.

Penelope Garcia 

This girl is the queen of relaxing. If she doesn’t have to be awake before noon then you can bet your ass she’ll be tucked up and toasty till 12:01. 

Once she's awake, however, she's a flustered mess, struggling to pick between her various plans for your time off together. There's just so much she wants to do with you and never enough time.

"What? I'm the queen of fun and I just want to make sure we make the most of our time together, sugar plum. I can't help it. I'm excited to have a day just you and me, not that I don't love the others too. I do, but you know, just having it be us is rare -"

You stop her rambling with a kiss, which of course makes her melt.

I feel like Penelope would always try and spend part of the day with you in the kitchen, baking a new recipe to take to work for the others to try.

She'd also love spending the day on the sofa with you, watching either a Rom-com or a Sci-fi marathon (depending on your moods).

Once the decision has been made, she'd insist on gathering supplies - AKA: onesies, takeout and face masks.

"It's the holy trinity of self-care," she explains, holding up your choices. "Now, do you want the tea-tree or coconut face mask?"

However, if you do feel like getting out of the house, then Penelope would take you on theatre trips - which are booked last minute but with amazing seats (courtesy of Penelope’s connections and slightly unorthodox know-how).

The others are still jealous after finding out she got you tickets to Hamilton, front row, with the original cast.

Dr Spencer Reid

You know Spencer is the kind of person that has a list of things the size of his arm that he’d love to do with you on a rare day off. 

You’d probably have to negotiate with him to figure out which ones you could reasonably do in just 24 hours - and you try to find a balance between appeasing his interests and yours. 

For example, you don’t mind sitting through a Russian movie festival if afterwards he agrees to let you wander around your favourite bookshop and spend as long as you want exploring the shelves - without him critiquing or spoiling the endings before you even have a chance to read the blurb. 

If you also happened to let it slip that you'd never watched every single episode of Doctor Who that's ever been made, then you know your future days off will be spent marathoning on the couch. 

"I'm just saying that he's underrated as the Doctor as arguably the narratives of his episodes are far better developed and reflect the point of the show, which is that the Doctor isn't perfect but rather a time-travelling refugee who acts as a healer, counsellor, and protector of the universe. It's why he calls himself 'The Doctor' ..."

He always looks so adorable when he gets excited about something he loves. It's hard not to fall in love with him all over again.

Apart from watching TV, you both also love spending days off on that couch, curled up together, reading your way through the stack of books you both had in your never ending ‘TBR’ pile. 

Spencer would love listening to you discuss whatever you're reading, doing his best to memorise the characters, plots, and your thoughts on both. It's the least he can do when you listen so patiently every time he starts rambling on about whatever his latest hyper-fixation is.

"Can I... can I borrow that when you're finished? I'm now curious - just don't tell the others, ok?"

Masterlist

[nina-ya]

Happy Birthday - Law Edition

A/N: this is single-handedly the most self indulgent fic Ive done in a while so uh yeah anyways bye Pairing: Law x Reader CW: None WC: 2k

“Happy Birthday!” 

The joyful shout rang through the room, jolting you awake from your mid-day nap. Your eyes fluttered open to the smiling faces of your crewmates who gathered around your figure with infectious grins. 

You blinked, trying to make sense of the scene before you. Streamers in vibrant shades of various colors draped from the ceiling, balloons bobbed merrily in the corners, and confetti showered down on you, all combining to paint the room in a riot of colors.

“What–?” you began, your voice thick with sleep, but your words were swallowed by the laughter and sound of a party horn. The atmosphere was alive and filled with excitement, the joy emanating a celebration that was crafted only with love and care.

Bepo, with his furry face beaming, bounced on his toes, eyes sparkling as he spoke, “We couldn’t wait for you to wake up on your own,” he said, voice filled with eagerness. “We’ve been planning this for weeks!” 

Ikkaku handed you a steaming cup of coffee as she said, with a grin stretching across her face, “We just wanted to make sure you felt celebrated.”

“And it looks like Law is waiting for you with your first gift,” Shachi said, excitement evident in his tone.

The mention of Law piqued your curiosity, and you quickly set down the mug, eyes darting around the room for him. “Law? Where is he?”

Penguin sat on your bed beside you, nudging your leg playfully. “He’s been waiting for you to get ready. He should be somewhere on the deck.”

Surprised flitted across your face, and you scrambled out of bed, dashing to the small bathroom of the Polar Tang to quickly toss yourself together. A few hurried adjustments later, you made your way to the deck, spotting Law standing near the railing. He turned as you approached, a shadow of a smirk playing on his lips as he watched your excited figure approach.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice as steady as ever. “I wasn’t sure what to get you, so I thought it would be best if you picked something out yourself. How about we spend the day shopping?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the idea, “Really? You didn’t have to do that, but I would love to!”

Law nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “I figured it would be more enjoyable if you chose something you really like. Plus, I thought it would be nice to spend some time together.”

With a nod, you fell into a step beside him as you left the Polar Tang, and made your way into the inner city of the island. The marketplace of the island was alive, filled with stalls that offered various trinkets and items. You meandered through the endless rows of vendors, each presenting their products with enthusiasm. Street performers drew crowds to their lively performances, the smell of the street food wafted through the air making you salivate with an eagerness to try everything. As you explored, you found yourself drawn to a smaller shop brimming with trinkets and Law watched as you admired all the handcrafted figurines and jewelry. 

The hours passed, the sun already inching across the sky by the time you both made your way back to the Polar Tang. The day had been nothing short but delightful. You carried a small bag filled with a few selected gifts, all paid for by Law, of course. 

You inched closer to the ship and you noticed the crew’s unusually quiet demeanor. You were curious, but brushed it off as nothing more than fatigue from the day’s tasks. Law walked beside you, his expression unreadable, though there was something in his eyes that suggested he knew something more than he was letting on. 

Upon entering the ship, you were greeted by darkness, and as you descended deeper into it, the lights suddenly flickered on, and a chorus of voices erupted in unison yelling, “Surprise!”

The crew transformed the Polar Tang into a vibrant celebration space, adorned with those same streamers and balloons that you had woken up to, along with a large banner stretching across the ceiling, reading “Happy Birthday!” in bold letters. You spotted a table filled with nothing short of a feast, and music began to play as the festive atmosphere was cranked up to a maximum. 

The party got underway and laughter and conversation filled the air. You were swept up in the festivities, moving on from one group to the next. At one point, you found yourself pulled into a less-than-graceful dance with Bepo. The two of you twirled and spun around the submarine, your laughter ringing out over the music as your fellow crewmates clapped along. It was a moment of pure unfiltered joy.

Everywhere you turned, there were reminders of the thoughtfulness that had gone into the celebration. The party soon moved to the deck of the ship, now laughing and enjoying the festivities under the moonlight.

As the night wore on, you felt a gentle tug on your arm. You turned to find Law standing there, his expression softened by your unbridled happiness. ”Mind if I steal you away for a moment?” he asked, voice raised to carry over the lively chatter. 

You nodded, and Law gently tugged you away from the buzz of the birthday festivities, leading you to a quieter and more secluded corner of the ship. The lanterns that hung off the side of the Polar Tang enveloped the two of you in a warm, ambient light as the laughter and chatter of the party grew distant.

You glanced around, every nerve in your body alight with happiness. “This has been the best birthday I’ve ever had, without a doubt,” you began your voice becoming thick with emotion as you spoke. “I’ve never had anything like this before. It feels… It feels like a dream. I never knew how much I needed this, how much I needed all of this.” 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions as you continued, “It’s overwhelming. I don’t even know how to put it into words. This whole day, everything… It’s been perfect.” Your voice had cracked slightly, and you wiped at the corners of your eyes, trying to keep those tears at bay. “It’s as if I was drowning, and being with everyone, with you, is just like coming up for a breath of fresh air. I-I don’t even need anything more. This has been just a perfect day.”

Law watched you, a soft, almost wistful smile on your lips. The sight of you so vulnerable and so emotional just pulled on his heartstrings. You were absolutely precious to him and he couldn’t help but want to protect this version of you. To keep you this happy forever. “I wanted to give you something,” he said, his voice quieter as he seemed to dive into something more personal.

You looked up at him, curiosity panging at you alongside the rest of the overwhelming mix of emotions that were about to spill over. “Wait, wait, I thought the shopping spree was your gift to me.” 

“Did you really think I wouldn’t get you a proper gift?” he asked, chuckling.

“I- You… you didn’t have to get me anything,” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

Law reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in a red wrapping paper with your name inscribed right in the center. As he handed it to you, your fingers brushed slightly against each other, the contact sending goosebumps up your arms. The sight of the gift caused the tears to start falling, the dam of emotions finally bursting. 

“Hey hey,” he said softly, a chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you with mild concern. “You haven’t even seen the gift yet, and you’re already crying. Am I really that bad at this?”

You laughed through your tears, embarrassment evident in your response. “It’s not you. It’s just… everything. It’s too much”

Law’s grin widened, and he shook his head, urging you to unwrap the gift. “Well, I’m glad I could make you cry, I guess. Here-- open it before you become a total mess.”

You looked down at the box and your tear droplets had stained the wrapping paper a deep maroon. Carefully, you began unwrapping the gift at the seams, revealing a small, black box. You opened the box to reveal a bracelet, its delicate silver chain catching the soft light and shimmering against the velvet interior. 

Law took the bracelet from the box with careful fingers, and you extended your wrist towards him. He gently wrapped the bracelet around your wrist, the cool metal contrasting the warmth of his fingers as he fastened the clasp, the charms tinkling softly as they settled into place. “Everyone got to help pick out some charms,” Law said, holding up your wrist and gently rotating it to show off the bracelet. You looked closely and saw the array of charms, each one a gift from your found family. There was a polar bear, a whale, a penguin - each representing some of the members of the crew - and others that you realized reflected your personal interests.

“These I picked myself,” Law continued, pointing to three charms that lay by each other. He grew a bit shy as he started to explain their significance. “The national flower of the island where I first met you,” he said, pointing at a floral charm. “A firework, for the night at that festival where I took you because you begged for days on end,” he added with a small smile, pointing to the second charm. Finally, he gestured to the last one, a tiny depiction of a moon. “The phase of the moon when we first kissed.”

You looked up at him, sniffling as confusion overtook your teary features. “First kiss? What? I’m confused.”

Law glanced up at the sky, prompting you to follow his gaze. There, hanging in the night sky, was the moon in its waxing gibbous phase, mirroring the smaller charm on your bracelet. The pieces started to click in your head as you looked back at him, realization dawning.

He spoke up, his voice soft yet steady. “Tonight. If you’ll let me.”

You blinked, caught between disbelief and the rising emotions that made your heart race in your chest. The realization of what he meant – what he was offering – washed over you and it was as if the universe had aligned for this one moment. 

His eyes met yours and there was a vulnerability present, the unanswered question hanging between the two of you. You found yourself nodding, and without breaking eye contact, Law took a small step closer, the space narrowing until you could feel the heat radiating off his body and the scent of him overcoming your senses. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your tear-dampened skin. 

Law leaned in slowly, giving you time to close the gap if you wished, but you eagerly met him halfway, your lips lightly brushing against his in a gentle touch that sent shivers down your spine.

The kiss was soft at first, a hesitant exploration of each other. But, as you leaned into him, your hand having found its way to the nape of his neck to tangle in his hair, it deepened, the initial hesitancy giving way to something more fervent.

The gift box in his hand dropped to the ground with a thud, and he circled his arm around your waist, pulling you close. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, time standing still, as the kiss unfolded. His lips were soft against yours, moving with a gentle insistence that left you breathless and demanding more, the taste of him intoxicating, making your head spin.

When you finally broke apart, the need for air becoming unignorable, you both lingered for a moment, foreheads resting against each other as you caught your breath. The night was alive around you, the sounds of the party fading back into awareness, but for that one moment, there was only you two.

“Happy birthday,” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in another kiss that was more heated than the last. 

This certainly was the best birthday ever. 

[aangelkeii]

❝ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ❞ | Hey - Luci4 ❦ ❀

Kinktober Day 2: Mutual Masturbation (k.tober 2024)

A/N: okay wow so i am currently writing this really late at night. this month is gonna ruin my sleeping schedule. anyway, more proud of this one right 'ere, so hopefully it hits the spot for everyone else. lemme know if i need to improve on anything. dedicated to the one i love. i love u, ho.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

wc: 4.5k (that's what i'm talking about! hell yeah) | warnings: fem! reader, masturbation (m and f), fingering, jerking, li'l touch of praise, petnames (sweetheart, baby), uhhhhhh a large coke, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh a half dozen donuts.

You knew it would be a bad idea befriending a villain. 

You supported the cause against the heroes from the beginning, and you were always secretly rooting for the bad guys during every fight, but never in your life did you think you’d come face to face with a literal criminal. And somewhere as normal as a farmers market? You recognized him even with the medical mask that he had on, the discoloured scarring down his neck and on his ears weren’t hidden very well with the flimsy sweater he had zipped up. You’d expect the guy wearing the torn up, very well-loved black zip up to be the biggest prick at the market, but he actually paid the vendors. 

I’m a villain, not a monster.

That’s what he said to you. Corny ass.

Dabi could feel you staring, he knew he'd been found. He couldn’t decide whether he should run for it or confront you, but he saw that pin on your bag. It was some kind of internet thing that someone made, a cheap knock-off of the League of Legends logo, incorporating the League of Villains in with it. It was supposed to be an inconspicuous way of showing support for the villains without explicitly stating that you’d rather watch the heroes rot in hell before you agreed with their methods of operation. You knew yourself that it was stupid or whatever, but it was literally worth two bucks and a lollipop. 

When the two of you made eye contact, you saw something akin to fear in his eyes, like his attempt at trying to support himself during these dire times would be ruined because some prissy bitch decided to run her mouth. You stayed silent though, only giving him the tiniest of smiles and went back to browsing the stands. The next time you looked up he was nowhere to be seen, so you figured that he got what he needed and left before he fucked something up. 

Nope! That fucker followed you home. You lived maybe three blocks away from where the market was set up so obviously you just walked there and back. He came up behind you and put an arm over your shoulder, bending down a bit to your level, and told you to keep your mouth shut or you’d be toast. Literally. He questioned you about your pin, and told you how stupid it was to parade your support around in public, and you must’ve said something impressive because now you can’t get rid of him.

He found himself staying with you over the next few months, crashing at your house whenever his recruitment was going on, and you always covered for him if someone got just a little too curious. It was for their safety, not his. You’d rather not have the local authorities show up at your door because someone caught a glimpse of some man climbing onto your balcony. You let the others stay at your place, too, because you became someone that the League could trust (to a certain extent). Mainly, though, it was just Dabi.

He’s been spending the last couple of weeks at your place, his recruitment not going as he had planned, often coming back frustrated and ready to burn your shit down. He knows better than to actually set your place on fire because you’re the luckiest thing that happened to him and the League. Instead, he sulks in your guest bedroom and spends his time throwing a switchblade into the wall. He might be kind enough to not burn your pace down, but he’ll still cause destruction to whatever he can, his victim being your walls. You’d watch from time to time as he chucks the blade towards your wall like he’s training for the olympics. You’ll fix it when he eventually ditches you.

Even with a wanted villain seeking refuge in your own home, you still had a life to live, and you threw caution out of the window the moment you made eye contact with him that day. Isn’t the smartest idea to leave him alone at your place, but he hasn’t caused too much damage just yet, so you figure you have a bit more time. He’s definitely not the greatest roommate. Sure, he doesn’t leave a mess everywhere and he only occasionally eats everything in the fridge, but he’s loud and inconsiderate of the fact that you have your own routine. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s almost broken down your door because you lock it at night. You should’ve known he would go straight to your place when his mission went south.

It was the weekend now. No work, no plans, nothing to do but waste the day away doing whatever bullshit you can. You thought that maybe you should run to the store before everyone else would get off of work and ruin the peacefulness with traffic, so you yelled out to Dabi and told him you’d be back in a bit.

Dabi doesn’t have many ways to vent his frustrations. He stabs the walls, sets something on fire here and there, but he doesn’t have a healthy outlet. Well, unless you can call fucking his fist ‘self care,’ then he’s the healthiest bitch alive.

Looking down as his hand pumps his cock, pre-cum beading from the head as he thumbs over the slit and drags it downwards. The rough scarring of his hand gives languid strokes up and down the length of him, legs spread as he sits in the cheap desk chair in the room. His head is tilted to the side, royal eyes half-lidded and pierced lips parted with quiet grunts and huffs. He doesn’t jerk off to porn or anything. He has an irksome imagination that plagues him with vivid images of you; underneath him, legs on either side of his hips as he piston his dick in and out of you, head thrown back into the pillows with your throat bared. He’d lean down and lick your jugular from collarbone to jaw, the salty taste of your sweat spreading across his taste buds. 

His thighs twitch with every upwards tug of hand, twisting when he reaches the head again, sucking a breath through his teeth. The familiar tightness in his pelvis is the only form of pleasure he can find these days. His head lolls back, fist tightening around himself as his breathing turns choppy. His whole body grows overbearingly warm and a curse leaves his lips–

“Holy shit.”

Dabi let his guard down. His hand jolts away from his dick and he twists in the chair, the armrest barely blocking your view from it. He feels like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He sure looks like it, too.

“What the fuck?” He breaks out of his deer-in-the-headlights moment and yells. He covers himself up with his hand, brushing over the sensitive underside of his dick, hissing and shuddering. He was so close, so fucking close. 

You’re shell-shocked. Never did you think you’d walk in on a villain trying to get himself off in your home. The sound of his hitching breath meets your ears and something grows within your chest. He stares as you stare, dilated pupils meeting yours, nothing else but the quiet, ragged breathing from the scarred man to fill the space. 

His brain is all muddled from the intense pleasure that was prematurely ripped away from him, the frustrations that he’s been trying to cope with only bubbles back up with your stare. “You just gonna stand there?”

You don’t understand what he’s implying with his words, but since he’s never been the kind of guy to shy away from weird innuendos, you think he’s inviting you to finish the job. A part of him knows that his words can be twisted into something they’re not, he has this weird way of speaking in cryptic riddles that make no sense until you think about them. He’s confused when you carefully step into the room and close the door behind you. The lights aren’t on, and the sun isn’t facing this side of the building, so only the reflected sun from the adjacent building’s windows brings light to the room. It isn’t enough to see the expression on his face or yours, but it’s enough to see your silhouettes; his naked chest rising and falling unevenly, hand still covering whatever dignity he has left, and your unsure posture as you stand.

“Wanna help me out?” Dabi twists in his chair a bit more towards you, enough for your eyes to catch the glint of something shiny below his waist. It’s not his rings, it’s too tiny, but your eyes hone in on the barbells on the underside of his cock. Of course he’s got a fucking jacob’s ladder. The pre covering him in a thin layer of gloss below the belt seems to be the only thing you can see right now.

You manage to tear your eyes away from his dick to walk closer to him, sitting at the foot of the bed in front of him. The eye contact makes him twitch underneath his hand as he waits for you to finally speak. 

“What were you thinkin’ about?” Your voice breaks through the quiet, careful and calm. You must approach this situation with a level of professionalism, it’s not everyday that you’re invited to help a friend get off.

“Who do you think?” Not what, who. You could say that you had no clue, try to ignore the way his eyes shine through his lashes, but the truth is right in front of you - right in front of him. 

Ever since you took him in like some kind of stray cat, his appreciation turned into infatuation, and now he’s obsessed with you. He takes all of these recruitment missions as an excuse to spend time with you.

You shuffled forward, placing a hand just above his knee, feeling just how warm he is even through his sweatpants. Up close you can see the flush across the unscarred skin on his ribs, and it only gets darker with your touch. “I want you to tell me.”

Where did this confidence come from? Dabi’s brows raise slightly in surprise, lips quirked up into a teasing smile. “Look at you, sweetheart, ordering me around.”

The tension in his shoulders dissipates and he leans back, fingers flexing over his dick until he finally brushes the pads of his fingers upwards. He gets a good look at you, as well as he can with this lighting, and his thumb presses into the slit of his cock again. 

“Want me to get into detail?” The heat starts to glow through his bones again. He scoffs lightly at the meek nod you give him. “You were beneath me, heaving like…”

Sometime during his retelling fantasy, your hand moved off of his leg and snuck under the waist of your pants. You could feel your pulse between your legs and your knees flinched closer together when your finger met your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. The slight hitch of your breath made Dabi falter with his words for just a slight moment, quickly recovering with a new sense of pride in his chest. He so badly wants to close his eyes, but he wills them to stay open, needing to take in the sight of you as desperate as he is. 

“You ever think ‘bout me, baby? I bet you do,” his fingers run over the silver of his piercings. He keeps his pace slow and soft, building back up to where he previously was, allowing you to catch up with him. “Always complaining when I show up, running your mouth. I should shut you up one day.”

“You’re full of it,” your voice was just as broken as his, but the last thing on your mind is your appearance. You lean back on one hand to give you some more space, widening your view of him before you; cock slick with cum, barbels of his Jacob's ladder glistening with every jerk of his hand, florid skin growing ever warmer with your gaze. Dabi feels like an experiment under a microscope, your eyes studying and reading him for reactions. “It’s only fair if I daydream about you, too.”

His hand slows. “Pray tell.”

“Between your legs, letting you hold me down on your dick as you fuck my mouth.”

His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Electricity blooms through his body as he imagines you in that position. By the sound of it, you’d enjoy it. He squeezes his hand around the base of his cock to keep him from blowing his load prematurely. When his eyes open back up, he sees your hand moving a bit more under your pants, then a sigh leaves your lips as you’re finally skin-to-skin with yourself. 

Seeing you so hot and bothered makes his thoughts fuzzy, and before he’s thinking about his actions, he takes his hand away from his cock and moves towards you. You allow him to get closer, allow him to pull at your pants to rid you of them, and before you know it he’s sitting between your legs with your back on the blankets. His spread legs keep you from closing your own as he stares down. The both of you are naked save for your underwear, and the wet spot on the gusset of your underwear makes his mouth water. That’ll have to wait for another day.

He replaces your hand with his thumb, pressing into your clit over your underwear with tiny circular motions. This makes your hand flinch upwards to the pillows, nails digging into the skin of your palm. A cocky smile graces his lips and he applies a bit more pressure, eyes flickering between your face and the slick seeping through your underwear. 

His cock bobs between his legs, twitching with each pitchy huff of your breath. Pride fills his chest when your hips shift closer to his hand, your skin prickling with each circle of his thumb, something unspoken in your eyes as you stare up at him through your lashes. Dabi tilts his head to the side in question.

Silently communicating, your hand unclenches and moves down to your legs, motioning for him to take your underwear off, a plea for him to touch you properly. He laughs.

“I wanna make this last, baby. You gotta be patient for me.”

You know he’s just as desperate to get off as you are, probably even more, so you don’t understand why he’s trying to prolong his pleasure just for some slight teasing. It makes you want to do the opposite of what he’s asked of you. Still making eye contact with him, you reach for his neglected cock and pump your hand without a warning. That cocky smile is wiped from his lips.

He stutters and arches closer, abruptly bucking his hips into your hand. God, your hand feels way better than his. He watches the pre bead from his slit to your hand at the base of his cock, watches as you let it dribble over your fingers and swear it over his shaft. He moves closer to you, making your legs spread wider over his thighs, letting him press his thumb just the slightest bit closer to your clit. The building orgasm that’s been held in his pelvis all this time is growing rapidly and you can tell by the way his eyes threaten to roll into the back of his head. You speed up your jerk, no longer thinking about getting your way, more focused on making him finally come.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” Dabi stammers when you show no sign of stopping. His muscles feel so tight, and they strain against his will of staying still. It makes him shake and pant. Brows turning up with the increasing tightness in his lower stomach. “G-gonna come, fuckfuckfuck–”.

At least he was kind enough to warn you. Your hand strokes over his piercings and the stimulation brings an intense shiver through his body until finally the pent up frustration of failed missions and loss of dignity is worth it. Cum spurts from his cock and slides down your fingers, lips open with throaty groans, hips bucking with the pull of your hand that doesn’t slow until a pitched noise leaves him. You’re staring at your cum-stained hand, mesmerized.

He huffs. Chest heaving, one hand braced beside your hip, the other gripping your thigh. His eyes are clenched shut. He hadn’t even realized that he stopped touching you. He hisses when you retract your hand and spread your fingers, his cum stringing between them and snapping.

“T-that,” he catches his breath. “That was mean.”

“Should’ve gotten me naked.”

He scoffs at your bite and, almost like he hadn’t just come all over your hand, he pulls at the band of your underwear with a frenzied look in his eyes. The stitches strain against your thighs and some do snap from the tension, but you manage to close your knees a bit and hitch your hips up enough to keep him from destroying them entirely. You’ll probably never see them again anyway. Dabi is a freak.

With your legs resituated across his thighs, both of his thumbs pull at your lips and watch as your wetness slips from your hole, cock jumping back to life at the sight.

“You minx,” he grits. Not out of anger, but out of restraint. It takes so much of his power to not dive between your legs and eat you out like a man starved. “Getting off to me being pathetic. Should’ve known.”

His fingers on the underside of your thighs keep you from closing your legs. They dig into the plush between your thighs and hips, calloused hands metaphorically burning your skin in the best way possible. 

His thumb resumes its previous circles over your clit, and he practically giggles when your hips buck up. His head - the one attached to his shoulders - feels like it’s floating. He moves down and collects the slick, dragging it back up to make his motions smoother. The action makes you keen.

His eyes dart back up to your face, bashful and so clearly turned on that it almost looks unbearable. He feels bad, maybe, for working you up then stopping so suddenly earlier. A small, mean part of him says it’s payback. He’s not going to be mean, though. Not right now.

“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for letting me stay here,” his thumb slowly moves away from your clit and his middle and ring finger replace it, sliding side to side before dragging down. “Let me show you just how grateful I am.”

“What’re you talking ‘bout?” The words barely leave your lips before his middle finger pushes into you, long and thick, immediately finding your sweet spot and pressing against it. You clench around him, and considering how easy it was for him to plunge in, he figures that you deserve one more. 

Adding his ring finger creates a slight burn, discomfort visible on your face. Your hand reaches out for his arm. He doesn’t push in any further, waits until the crease between your furrowed brows soften and your lips part with a pleased sigh. The bar is so low, but the moment is sweet compared to how he usually is.

Your hand on his arm loosens and slides down the scarred skin, the texture a satisfying contrast to his softer parts. There’s a sudden shift in the air with your touch, his fingers easing into you once again, your shoulders slumping against the pillows.

Wordlessly, Dabi leans forward. You think that maybe he’s just trying to get a better angle, but when the cold silver of his side labrets brush against your bottom lip, your eyes close and you chase after the feeling. His lips slot over yours, a perfect fit, destiny. He draws his fingers out and slides them back in, absorbing the quiet moan that you choke out. His free hand moves up your skin, warm palm cupping the side of your neck and angling your head to press his lips closer, forcing the kiss deeper. Your lips part at the same time that his does, a small startle when your tongues brush together.

Like you’re thrown headfirst into molten lava, your whole body warms beneath him, soaking through his skin and penetrating his bones. He shares the moan you give him, letting go on the side of your neck to join his other hand between your legs. His thumb once again resumes the circlet around against your clit and you clench around him once more. He smiles against the kiss, enjoying how you react to his touch.

With three points of contact, you’re starting to feel trapped beneath him. As much as you’re enjoying the soft touches and gentle caresses, you can’t just lay here and do nothing for him.

Your hand meets his cock again, tacky from the slowly drying cum, but still wet enough for a pleasing slide of your fingers down to the base. He groans against your lips and attempts to move away, but your other hand grips his hair to keep him close. Even as his eyes open just slightly to stare at your closed lids, the furrow of your brows and muffled sounds of pleasure eggs him on. If you want to touch him, he’s not going to stop you.

His fingers pump in and out of you, starting off slow and languid until they pick up the pace, matching the increasing flick of your wrist around him. He manages to pull his lips away from you despite your obvious protest. 

“Feel s’good, sweetheart,” he purrs, his piercing no longer a cold sting against your lips. He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing right up against your g-spot, chest tightening when you moan. Your hand tightens around him and your thumb smoothes underneath his cockhead. “Wanted to touch you for so long.”

“Yeah? Why didn’t you?” Your breathless voice cuts through to his muddied brain. 

“I’m a villain, not a monster.”

His vexing smile returns. You fail to push down the laugh, fisting his cock faster in return to his quote. His laugh joins yours, albeit stammered, speeding up the pumping of his fingers. The pads push up against your sweet spot with each ‘in and out’ motion, your knees bending and thighs falling open wider around him. He invites himself closer to you and licks your lips, groaning when your tongue reciprocates. 

“Gonna make you come on my fingers,” he slurs against your lips, mouth full of your combined saliva. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Be a good girl and come f’me.”

The sudden praise gives you whiplash, and the coiling tension in your stomach grows warmer and warmer, muscles burning and hole clenching around his fingers. His lips mutter soft praises and encouragements, bringing you closer to the edge. The non-stop pump of your wrist brings him closer, too, seemingly stronger than before. 

“Dabi, fuck,” his name on your tongue makes him want to burrow into your skin. His infatuation is growing into pure obsession. “Y’close?”

He feels you tense around his fingers, holding yourself back from coming before him, but he’s quick to reassure you. “Mhm, so fuckin’ close, baby.”

Your nod makes his lips brush against yours, but neither of you can pull yourselves out of the headspace you’re in to act any further on it. The ache between your thighs grows evermore hot and suddenly you feel that creeping pleasure morph into a rush of fire down your spine. You make a small noise in warning, not able to find the words, but Dabi knows exactly what’s happening because he feels it, too.

“Come for me. C’mon, sweetheart,” his gentle words turn into a desperate begging as he humps his hips into your hand. He nods along with your keening moans, joining in with pathetic pleas for your cum to soak his fingers in return. 

With a final searing fire through your body, your head falls back and your mouth falls open, breath hitching and thighs twitching against his bare hips. He doesn’t falter his fingers, staying constant with his speed inside of you and the circuit of his opposite thumb against your clit. Seeing you fall apart beneath him, mouth hung open with your throat bared to him just like in his fantasies. His next orgasm sneaks up on him, his cum shooting from his cock once more, landing on the crease of your thigh and hip bone. He can feel just how hot you are underneath his hands, and his praises just keep going despite how choked they sound.

Your own orgasm was prolonged with his unfaltering movements, the hot feel of his cum dribbling down your fingers, and the swift shift of his body towards yours. His tongue licks from the tip of your collarbone and up to your jaw, tasting that salty sweetness he’s been craving for so long, hinging his mouth open wider to suck at your neck. He’s careful of your pulse, he can feel it rushing under his tongue, but he’s responsible enough to stay clear. Only when your hips start to squirm away from him does he finally stop his hand, retracting it and bringing it up between the two of you. He spreads his fingers and watches as your cum strings and snaps. Now he knows why you did it.

Dabi sticks his tongue out without a second thought, licking his fingers clean like he’s done it plenty of times before, not bothering to comment on your attest of his actions.

“You’re nasty,” you wipe your cum-covered hand on your shirt, rolling your eyes when he smirks around his fingers. He wipes his spit-covered hand on your shirt and leans in closer until his forehead meets your shoulder.

“You get off on it,” he snarks back. He laughs at your weak attempt to push him off of you.

Your muscles cry out when you go to move your legs, ignoring it in order to pull your pants back on. Dabi stops you from doing so, standing up on clumsy feet over to the dresser, pulling out two pairs of boxers. He throws one pair to you and heads to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer for a pack of wipes. He shrugs at your look of question.

“You leave me here a lot, may as well use that time for something good,” he helps clean between your legs, apologizing when you buck away from sensitivity. He then cleans himself, disposing of the wipes, then flops onto the bed beside you. He pulls you close against him and traps you halfway underneath him.

You make the slightest noise of annoyance before you accept the new position, wrapping yourself around him. “Nasty.”

He bites into the meat of your shoulder, unyielding with your push against his head. “Get used to it.”

© aangelkeii - do not repost, translate, plagarize, or claim any of my works as your own.

taglist: @ggriwm @ppsucker3000 @cstandsforchaos @jakeyjakies @cphlo @dumbwaystolive

[strayheartless]

AGS and childhood teddy bears because I said so:

Angeal: His childhood teddy bear was made by his mother. It has lopsided ears and a wonky eye and his name is “Freddy”. Angeal did not name Freddy, Angeal’s dad named Freddy and really he wouldn’t have it any other way.

As a child Angeal took Freddy pretty much everywhere with him: to the market, do the beach, the doctors office. Even, on one very horrifically memorable occasion, to a funeral…. Now Freddy sits on his night stand looking a little worse for wear but no less loved. Angeal patches up every moth eaten hole and replaces any lost stuffing. He’s got a book on his shelf about Teddy bear repairing and no one is willing to make even the tiniest bit of fun of him. Freddy, to Angeal, is as important as the Buster sword.

Except Zack doesn’t really know what happened to Freddy after he is captured. He’d managed to rescue the little bear before Shinra came in to erase Angeal’s existence but now…?

Genesis: Genesis’ childhood teddybear sits in his bedroom on his bed and gods help you if you touch it. Genesis had many toys growing up, and all of them had backstories and personalities but Gigi was special. The bear had been given to Genesis by his mother after a trip to Junon when he was three. She had been away for weeks and despite the fact that she otherwise showed little interest in him past what he wore and ate, Genesis had missed her so much he’d thrown up crying the night she left. When she came back, bear in hand Genesis had been so delighted at the unusual display of motherly love that he’d completely failed to realise the bear had not come from Junon nor had it come from his mother. In fact the little bear came from a tiny toy shop in the market place and had been bought for him by his Nanny, who had accosted Genevieve Rhapsodos in the hall muttering:

“If he thinks it’s from you he may just be soothed better when you go away again.”

It did and Genesis was never any the wiser. All anyone ever had to do to get him to shut up was hand him Gigi and he promptly curled up either with a book or to sleep. Even when he burned Gigi to a crisp in his rage over the lie that was his life, he never knew his “mother” had not been the one to buy the bear.

Sephiroth: Sephiroth did not have a childhood stuffed animal or any kind. Hojo thought them inane while Gast fretted about the germs they carried, so Sephiroth went without. He had his locket and that was all that mattered to him for a very long time until….

Seeing Freddy and Gigi, Sephiroth is hit with unimaginable envy over what could have been. The loss he feels is stupid. It was an inanimate object for Gaia’s sake! He should not be bereft at the sight of it! Except he is, and he wants his own so badly it aches.

Sephiroth has a little ritual of patting Freddy gently on the head in greeting and nodding to Gigi when he sits on his friends beds. Angeal watches him with sympathy in his gaze while Genesis watches him like a hawk around his bear. But both of them know the reason behind the gesture and never point it out.

Until one holiday Angeal hands him a little brown paper wrapped package wrapped up in red and white twine, the way the shop owners used to wrap the toys in Banora. When Seph opens it he doesn’t speak, just touches the little tiger stuffy with reverence and lets the tears fall. Like Genesis, Sephiroth is very protective of teddy (he’s not imaginative with names leave him be). No one mentions that he stays on the pillow across from Sephiroth, and nobody mentions that most mornings Sephiroth wakes with teddy pressed to his cheek and subconsciously rubs its soft fur across his top lip soothingly.

Years from now HR will throw that same tiger doll into a black bag and into a land fill in the sector seven slums. Years from now a vendor will pick it out, clean it up and sell it to a tall man with a gun for a hand and a baby strapped to his chest who just rolled into town. He wants it for the baby, his daughter, and she sleeps with it every night.

Years and Years from now that same little girl will solomnly tell that tiger to watch over her brother while her uncle Cloud looks for a cure…

Years and years form now a winged stranger in a red leather coat with spy the little Tiger sat on the whiskey shelf for “safe keeping” and no one will know how to sooth him because no one knows what’s wrong.

[its-avalon-08]

i love the angst! like what would charles and y/n do when they fight> headcannon form thanks!

charles leclerc x fem!reader - when they're angry at eachother message from anon - Hi! Can you change it to - what would charles and y/n do to take care of eachother when they fight.

Y/N picks up Charles' favorite takeout even though he's being a grumpy git about the whole fight, leaving it on the counter with a silent "don't starve yourself" note.

Charles makes sure to leave the coffee pot full despite their argument, knowing a good night's sleep after a fight is out of the question.

In the midst of their cold war, Y/N remembers Charles hates showering with cold water and adjusts the thermostat before he gets in.

Charles, despite being fuming, remembers Y/N's forgotten project deadline and discreetly reminds a colleague to forward her the missing data.

Y/N, while stewing, notices Charles hasn't packed his lucky socks and throws them in his bag with a glare that says "don't mess up without them."

Charles, after a particularly heated exchange, sets the alarm on Y/N's phone a few minutes earlier than usual, a silent "I don't want you to be late" tucked away.

Y/N, even though they haven't spoken in hours, leaves a box of Charles' favorite chocolates by his side of the bed with a small, defiant, "there."

Charles, in a fit of stubbornness, puts on a new movie Y/N had been wanting to see, silently inviting her to join him on the couch.

In the middle of a tense stand-off at the grocery store, Y/N grabs Charles' favorite cereal despite his earlier grumbling about needing a healthier option.

During a heated argument at a cafe, Charles, mid-sentence, notices Y/N forgot her usual sugar packets and flags down the waiter for her.

Charles, mid-scoff at Y/N's comment, sees a street vendor selling her favorite flower and impulsively buys a bouquet, shoving it into her hand with a mumbled "kiss me now?"

In the middle of a tense breakfast, Y/N catches Charles wincing at a sore muscle and, pride swallowing her anger, reaches across the table to discreetly offer him a pain reliever.

Charles, while pretending to be engrossed in his phone at a cafe, flags down their usual waiter with a subtle nod, knowing Y/N will - forget to order her favorite latte in their current state.

During a heated argument at a gas station, Y/N, fuming, grabs the pump and fills Charles' car with gas anyway, throwing him the keys with a grumble.

Charles, after a particularly stubborn silence, walks past Y/N "accidentally" bumping into her shoulder, dropping a new book he knows she's been eyeing.

a bonus scene of charles apologising and y/n apologising :

⋆ charles saying sorry : The air crackled with unspoken apologies in their apartment. Charles, ever the racer, paced like a caged lion, while Y/N pretended to be engrossed in a book, the furrow in her brow a dead giveaway of her lingering annoyance. Finally, Charles couldn't take it anymore. He tiptoed closer, the floorboards groaning under his weight.

Y/N held her breath, pretending not to notice. Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a solid chest that smelled faintly of engine oil and his signature cologne.

"Alright, alright," Charles mumbled against her hair, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. "I messed up. Big time."

Y/N bit her lip, torn between holding a grudge and melting in his embrace.

Charles, sensing her hesitation, nuzzled his face into her hair. He inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of her shampoo and vanilla body lotion a soothing balm to his racing heart. "You smell like sunshine," he murmured, his voice husky.

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "That's not exactly an apology, Leclerc," she teased, her voice barely a whisper.

Charles chuckled, a rich sound that vibrated against her back. "Fine," he sighed, tilting her head back with a gentle finger under her chin. His eyes, the color of the Monegasque sky after a summer rain, held a plea that was hard to resist. "I'm truly sorry, Y/N. Can you ever forgive this stubborn Monegasque?"

Y/N looked into his eyes, the anger slowly dissolving into a puddle of affection. "Maybe," she said, her voice playful.

Charles, unable to wait any longer, leaned in and captured her lips in a soft kiss. It started slow and sweet, a gentle apology that spoke volumes. Then, as his frustration melted away, the kiss deepened, a silent promise that they'd work through anything together.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless and smiling, Y/N snuggled back into his embrace. "Just promise you'll think twice before doing that again," she muttered, her voice muffled against his chest.

Charles chuckled, tightening his hold on her. "Scout's honor," he whispered, and for now, in the warmth of his arms, Y/N knew she believed him.

⋆ y/n saying sorry : The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy like a Monaco summer night. Y/N sat huddled on the couch, stealing glances at Charles slumped in the armchair across from her. The air hung heavy with unspoken apologies.

She couldn't hold out any longer. With a sigh, she rose and padded over to him. Charles moved slightly but Y/N surprised him. She launched herself onto his lap, burying her face in his chest.

"Charles," she mumbled, her voice muffled by his t-shirt. Her arms wrapped around him like a koala's, leaving him no room to escape.

He stiffened for a moment, unsure how to react. Then, a small smile played on his lips. "Alright, alright," he chuckled, his voice warm despite the tension. "What's this about, then?"

Y/N squeezed him tighter. "Sorry," she mumbled, the word muffled against his shirt.

Charles felt a wave of warmth wash over him. He knew that was her way of apologizing, stubborn and sweet all at once.

"Come on, Y/N," he teased, trying to peek around her head. "You gotta say it where I can hear you."

Y/N remained stubbornly silent, her grip unwavering. "Sorry," she repeated, a little louder this time.

Charles couldn't help but chuckle again. He placed a hand on her back, gently stroking it. "Alright, alright, I get it. You're sorry."

But Y/N wasn't finished. "No," she mumbled, her voice firm. "Look at me and say it's okay."

Charles sighed, a happy sound. He reached up with his other hand, tilting her chin up until their eyes met.

Her eyes, usually full of fire, were soft with regret now. "I messed up," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Can you forgive me?"

Charles could resist anything except Y/N like this. He leaned down, his lips brushing hers. "Yeah," he murmured against her mouth. "It's okay."

The moment he said the words, Y/N's face broke into a radiant smile. Before he could react further, she peppered his face with kisses, small, quick pecks that chased away the last remnants of their argument.

Charles laughed, pulling her even closer. "Alright, alright, I get it," he said, his voice thick with amusement. "You're forgiven."

Y/N snuggled into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips. In the quiet of their home, surrounded by the warmth of his love, the fight already felt like a distant memory.

[coichii]

APPLE CIDER - SEUNGMIN

pairing - bf!seungmin ♥︎ fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 0.5k

warnings: none I can think of !!

A/N : hello !! welcome to part seven of my fall series, “fall records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for the members :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “fall” feeling ! this story is based off of “Apple Cider” by beabadoobee. enjoy !!

“it’s really nice to talk to you. it’s really nice to hold your hand.”

“You like that book y/n?” He asked you, breaking you out of your trance.

It was a bookstore date downtown. You both really enjoyed reading and hadn’t gone looking for a new book to enjoy in a while, so today, with both your schedules being free, was the perfect occasion.

“Yeah, what makes you ask?” You respond, still reading the book. It must have been obvious with the way your face was buried nose deep in it.

“Well you’ve been reading it for 10 minutes.” He chuckles, adoring the way your eyes light up in accusation.

“Really? It’s been that long? I’m sorry I must’ve lost track of time.” You admit sheepishly, finally placing the book down on the end table next to bean bag you were sitting on.

“It’s fine, I like seeing you like this.” He responds gently, his admission making you blush. “You ready to go or do you want to look around some more?”

“I’m almost ready to go, I just want to stop by and grab a different book I was looking at.” And he hums in response, watching as you walk back over to the romance section of the book store.

As you browse through the hundreds of books upon the shelves, your mind can’t help but think about the times you and Seungmin would read together at home.

You have a small library in your shared apartment, it taking residence in your living room. One of your favorite pass times with Seungmin is having nothing to do but read a book with him.

Whether that be while just relaxing or cuddling on his chest as his comforting voice lulls you to sleep, it’s one of your favorite things to do.

Picking out a book you’ll both enjoy isn’t that hard either, you both share similar interests. You can already feel the warmth of steaming, hot green tea as you lay in his arms, his voice hugging you with all of its strength.

“Gotcha!” You exclaim as you find the book you had been looking for. You make your way back to Seungmin, waving the book in the air in triumph as he chuckles.

“Alright, let’s go baby.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“Oooh! Can we stop for some Seungie?” You say, pointing out an apple cider stand on your walk home. Your bag was filled with a few books and novels, Seungmin being the ever loving boyfriend and offering to buy them for you.

On your walk home, you stumbled upon a small apple cider stand. Ever since you were little, you’ve always loved apple cider. You remember squeezing the apple for its juice with your family. The smell always brings you back to that memory.

“Of course. Stay here while I get us some.” He grins at you at walks over to the vendor, ordering two medium ciders and donating a generous tip to the woman.

“Here my love, now let’s go home.” He suggests, handing you your fresh apple cider and grabbing your free hand.

Days like this were always worth the world to you and so much more.

Days where you didn’t have to worry about any pressures from the outside world.

Just the two of you, lost in each other, meant everything.

back to masterlist

[writingmysanity]

Commit to the Bit (1)

Pairing: Sanji x Baker!Reader

Word Count:

TW: ummmm nothing really, perhaps slightly creepy man.

A/N: Not beta'd... well, not fully. dying on this hill lol thank you @stray-kaz and @sordidmusings for listening to me ramble about this and helping me find some direction with it, considering I sat down to write with "baker" and a vibe. You're amazing.

Early mornings were always your favorite. 

The gentle risings paired with the lingering silence in the streets as you wander towards the building resting in center square. Though silent, you're not alone. Wandering shadows linger in groups as the various vendors trickle into the square to begin their daily set up just as the sun begins to kiss the horizon. 

Your family has long since owned many of the buildings in the square. Before the last revolution on the island, your grandparents ruled it with an iron fist. You have since taken over the duties, your grandparents being some of the few taken in the onslaught, your father left with permanent injuries that keep him from working any longer. 

You often feel as if these things should trouble you, the knowledge of what happened. The passing shadows flickering in your peripheral should bring you some sort of unease, even as one darts towards you as you turn the key to your shop. Instead, you turn towards the small body, quickly accompanied by that of his mother, a smile hiding the exhaustion on your face as they call your name. 

“Yes?” stopping abruptly before you, Peter moves to shove a small sack into your hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He is excited, firm in the knowledge that he is often treated to a fresh pastry from your ovens if he behaves. His mother pauses behind him, hand resting on his shoulder as she attempts to hide her unease.

“Our rent,” she states softly. You nod, but she continues. “I understand it is two days late…” she sounds winded, panicked. “I will earn the rest today, I swear.” Slowly, your smile slides from your face as you shove the door open, motioning to the young boy to hurry in. 

“You know where you may go,” you state softly. He takes off like a bullet into the darkness, easily able to navigate the layout by now. You wait until he is out of earshot before you turn back to the woman before you, softening. 

“You owe me no more,” you assure her. She moves to dispute it, but you raise a hand, the glistening light of the dawn making the whole world around you dusty, hazy. “No late fees, no worries.” you assure her. It has only been a year, and still the fear seems to have settled firmly in the hearts of those around you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forces a kind smile on her son as he comes barreling back out of the shop, arms full of loaves of bread. 

“Peter,” she warns, gently. “That is too much. You are allowed a snack.” Again, you wave her off. 

“They were going to be fed to the birds anyhow.” you assure her. “Day-old bread doesn't sell as well.” she pauses before nodding. 

“Thank you”

Watching as they wander away, you can't help but sigh. Golden rays filter over the open sea, casting the island in brilliant hues of pinks and purples as it chases away the last of the shadows. Steadily, more bodies clamber into the square, limbs clumsy with sleep. The ever lingering scent of salt mixing with the warmth of fresh bread coming from inside the shop. 

Taking a deep breath, you swing around, heading into the building with a smile. 

“Angie!” you call with laughter in your tone as the short red head appears before you. She smiles brightly at you, her normal lopsided smile fading with sleep, her face and hands covered in various spots of flour. 

“You’re late,” she accuses, scrunching her nose to chide at you playfully. Shrugging slightly, you smile apologetically, nodding at the door. 

“Sorry,” you start with a hum, lifting the bag that Peter had shoved into your hands. “I got stopped.” she just nods with a laugh. 

“I saw,” she hums. “Little thing scared me, I thought another dog got in.” 

“Nope, just Peter.” you muse as you go to put the berry away. “Though, I can't say there is much difference.” you both laugh when you catch a glimpse of the cabinet you keep stocked with your day-old goods.

He didn't clear it out, you notice, softening. Angie follows your eyes, smiling softly. 

“I still don't know why you dont sell those.” she hums. “They won't earn as much, but more than giving them away for free.” you shrug, settling on the floor, looking at the remnants as you try to plan what lunches you can make with what is left. 

“We make enough, Ang,” you say softly. “And there are people who go hungry. The island is still healing.” 

She doesn't push. She knows of your guilt, even if there is nothing for you personally to feel guilty of. Your family has done a lot of damage, and she can't find fault in you wanting to fix as much of it as you can. 

“They are doing well,” she assures you, hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Now if you don't mind,” she grins, winking down at you. “My shift is over. I would love to get some sleep.” laughing softly at her, you nod. 

“You've helped me so much, I appreciate you.” you say softly, standing to see her off. She just nods, wiping her hands to rid herself of as much of the white gloop as possible, heading towards the door. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she calls. “Love you, too. There is a new batch in the oven, don't forget them. I'll beat you if you ruin my work!” she states as the door slides shut behind her. Huffing a laugh, you start loading the fresh pastries and breads into the displays’ as the sun lifts higher in the sky. It won't be long until the market is filled with locals and guests alike. Pirates and marines looking to stock their ships and merchants trying to sell their wares to the locals. 

By the time you finish stocking the first of the pastries, the door dings as it swings open. The distant hum of life swarming the market makes you smile as you rise to greet your first customer. Jeff, your biggest regular, and an unfortunate thorn in your side, strolls in with a large grin. You can't help the slight twinge to your smile, threatening to twist into a scowl. 

“Jeff!” you call as evenly as you're able. “You’re early.” 

His laughter echoes strangely in the small area as he settles into “his” spot next to the window, shifting to rest his heels on the opposite chair as he leans back. Far too used to getting his will, either by throwing money at it or with sweetened words dripping with honey, you have found the man incapable of accepting your favorite two lettered word. His ways may get him places with those of the odd house wife who married much too young in fear of being alone, but you can't help but feel sick when he turns his charms on you. Still, you could do worse, as far as your father is concerned. He is hoping to settle you into a life of luxury, free of having to work yourself to the bone. 

You'd rather work yourself to death than allow him to rest a ring on your hand, though. 

A prize, you realized long ago, is all he views you as. You own land, and by marriage, it would become his own. 

“I couldn't wait to see you again,” he coos, his whole body seeming to lean into his wink as your false smile tugs down at the corners. “I've been gone, haven't you missed me?” he calls loudly. As if you couldn't hear a whisper or the drop of a pin. His boisterous voice makes you cringe. Sighing, you prepare him his regular – a strawberry tartlet and a cup of coffee. 

“I miss the peace.” you grouch to yourself, back turned to him. Even turned away, you can feel his eyes on you, raking down your form. 

You don't have to check to know that the exact amount is already waiting for you on the table top, resting in neat piles. Setting his order before him, you go to pull away to grab the money when his fingers slide over your palm to grab your wrist. Clenching your teeth, you bite back your knee jerk reaction to slap him. 

“When are you going to let me put a ring on that pretty finger, hm?” he asks, leaning forward, his hooded eyes in resemblance of what he believes to be a sultry look. Just as you're about to open your mouth to respond with your sentiments – over your dead body – the door dings again. Immediately, you take the opportunity to pull your hand from his grasp, turning to send the newest patron a relieved smile. 

“Hello,” you call, almost a little too cheerful. “Welcome in.” 

You watch in amusement as three bodies all try to enter at the same time, shoulders getting stuck in the frame. There is a bicker and a whine before one of them pulls back to allow the other two to stumble in unceremoniously. 

“What was that for, stupid cook?” The taller, green-haired man snaps at the blond who had stepped back, his hand wrapped into the back of the third man's shirt, keeping him from trying to lunge forward at the array of goodies before him. 

“We couldn't all fit through the door, Mosshead.” The blond states as if it should be obvious. It should be, you felt, but their bickering brings a smile to your face as you place yourself behind the counter again. And far away from Jeff. 

They look ready to continue to bicker, so you call out to them again, hoping to catch their attention. “How can I help you today?” they all pause, looking towards you and your expectant look. You smile as the woman that had been forced behind their shenanigans pushes her way through, coming to stand before you. 

“Your pastries are fresh?” you nod, motioning to them. 

“Made not even an hour ago,” you promise. Three of the other four come to join her at the counter, looking over the variety of pastries, breads and other baked goods you have come to offer. The green haired man stares intently, only moving when the smaller brunette beside him nudges him to the side. 

It doesn't take much to recognize them, their faces lie plastered on every bulletin on every island across the seas at this point. Luffy and his signature hat being the biggest tip off, shortly followed by the famed demon hunter shifting his swords at his side to keep from hitting the display. You appreciate the gesture. 

You've never been in the habit of turning pirates in, not unless necessary. They bring more revenue in than the entirety of the marine fleets that seemed to stay docked in port. 

“See anything you'd like?” you offer after what seemed like several minutes of silence. Out of habit, your eyes trail up to keep tabs on the other body lingering back. You may not make a habit of turning them in, but you know the lot. Oftentimes they are entirely too focused on their own gain and what they can get away with when they think you aren't paying attention. 

You almost expect his eyes to be lingering along your wares or the walls, seeing what they think they can steal without being caught. What you certainly didn't expect was for his eyes to be plastered to your face, a bashful, boyish look to him as he seems to try and shrink back and away from your gaze. Blinking, you feel the warmth of your flush touch your ears as your attention is brought back to Luffy as he nearly salivates over the counter, his eyes locked on the pastries. 

“Can I get one of everything?” he asks excitedly. Your eyes flick back to the blond man still hovering back from the others as you nod, moving to start pulling everything out. 

“Of course,” you say kindly, quietly cheering your ability to keep your voice even. “What about the rest of you?” Their voices ring out as they quickly order before their captain is able to try and swipe the remaining food. Once their orders are pulled, wrapped and packaged, you stand straight, cringing at the twinge that pinches your lower back in retaliation for staying bent over for too long. 

“Anything for your friend?” you ask quietly, nodding to Sanji. Breaking from whatever spell he seemed to be under, he strides forward. Nami stares at him oddly when his voice comes out entirely too soft. 

“Is there anything you recommend?” He asks slowly, eyes flickering back from you to the food before him. “Anything, of course, that my dear captain has not yet swiped.” He amends, earning a laugh from you, emboldening him. "As long as it is as sweet as you" His words start out strong, but taper off shyly when his eyes catch yours. You can almost see how he is kicking himself, the confused pinch in his brow and how he sends Nami a glare when he catches her curious look. 

“My special, coming right up.” you hum, trying to dismiss the flickering gazes of the two in silent conversation. His eyes linger longer, trailing along your skin. You hand each of them their orders, huffing in amusement when Zoro takes Luffy’s order without a word. Last in line is Sanji, his hesitation evident as he reaches out to take the neatly wrapped package from you. 

“Thank you,” he smiles, the warmth of it making you squirm slightly. It’s entirely too genuine for a pirate, you decide. Instead of shying away from it, you smile back, unable to help the warmth pooling on your cheeks. 

“You'll come tell me what you think of it?” you request, shuffling on your feet, mentally kicking yourself. Evidently, all it takes is a shy look and a pretty smile and you're suddenly unable to keep your composure. He pauses at the door, sending you another smile. 

“Nothing would bring me more joy.” 

It's not until you look around, reveling in the silence that their departure left, that you realize that the shop is empty. Jeff is nowhere to be seen, his coffee half gone and his tartlet untouched. Huffing, you shift around the counter to clean up his mess, deciding to give the tart to Peter when he comes to visit at lunch time. 

========

The rest of your day, and even the better part of the next is quiet. Patrons coming in and out, the gentle push and pull of business as per usual, marines and pirates alike. Being nothing more than a simple seller of wares, many merchants and marines ignore your presence and often talk freely. 

It seems pirates are the only ones who can recognize a person with any semblance of power – though they seem to understand your unspoken rules. The biggest being, don't cause a ruckus and there won't be any trouble. 

Instead, they sit simply and enjoy their food with relatively boring conversation in comparison to their marine counterparts who openly speak about the bounties they are looking for. Perhaps they are hoping some young maiden will sweep up with large eyes and tell them where their bounty is hiding, begging them to capture them to keep her safe. Perhaps they are just loud. Either way, you didn't like their newest conversation. 

The strawhat crew. 

As with every time you hear whispers, you send your favorite errand boy to collect the wanted posters. Peter is more than happy to help, racing around the island to tear down the posters while sneaking past the marines. 

They may be famous, and they may be memorable, but you refuse to help them be reminded of who they are looking for. 

Panting, Peter returns, thrusting the posters into your hands with a grin. You grin down at him, offering him his favorite tartlet, watching his eyes widen in excitement, though it seems much more mild than usual. His mother will appreciate his energy being spent tonight when she locks up. 

“Your payment,” you coo, ruffling his hair gently, earning a happy sigh. You pretend not to notice the stares of several of your patrons eyeing the pile of posters in your hands. In silence, one person from each table is waved out the doors, as slowly and inconspicuously as possible, to check the bulletin boards. 

Rule number two – if your poster disappears, so should you. 

It isn't two hours later that the distant echo of shouts reaches your door. Frowning, you lean out to see what's going on. Did another pirate try his luck against the marines?

Steadily, the shouts get louder, joined in by the various vendors cursing at the lanky body weaving through their stalls in effort to keep ahead of the slew of marines hot on his trail. Another leap and dodge through the vendor two stalls down and you finally get a good look at the pirate in question – Sanji. 

Successfully slowing the marines, he skips half a step to gulp down some air before he is yoinked into your shop by his collar. 

Immediately, he is on the defensive, yanking back from you. You let him, glowering up at him. Seeing that it's you, he relaxes some, eyes flickering back towards the door. 

“As much as i'd love to give your pastry the glowing review it deserves,” he pants. “I'm a tad busy at the moment.” rolling your eyes, you grab the arm of his jacket, tugging him to the kitchen. 

“Make yourself look busy,” you hiss. “Quickly.” he freezes, but only for a moment, as he all but throws his jacket off, quickly tying the apron you shove his way. As he finishes, the door dings. Freezing, you both stare at one another for a moment before you force a smile to your face, reaching up to mess up his perfect hair, motioning to the flour, hoping he'd get the idea before you swing out of the kitchen to greet your guests. 

“Hello,” you sing. “Welcome in.” 

Standing before you is the same slew of Marines, huffing and puffing. Their hair and uniforms are obviously askew, tugged and pulled from placement in their chase. You can't help but muse at the fact that while they looked a mess, you had to forcibly change the pirate's looks to make him look as haggard as these men look just from chasing him. 

“How can I help you?” 

“Have you seen this man?” The man in front shoves the poster in your face, his tone less inquisitive, more accusatory. Narrowing your eyes at him, you yank the poster from his grip, pretending to get a good look at it. Truly, you can say you haven't seen this man. The artistry of the image before you is laughable at best. They made his face wider, pudgy and his hair stringy and closer to that of the straw your neighbor feeds his hogs. The nose was completely off, much too narrow and flat. 

It seems the only thing about the poster that can even be considered “correct” is the name. 

“No, sir.” you state honestly, shrugging before making a show of trying to hand him the poster back. He doesn't take it, so you just set it down before you on the counter. He eyes you suspiciously motioning to two other marines to his right. 

“Then you wouldn't oppose us searching the premises?” he asks, a sickly sweet smile twisting his features. “To ensure that he hasn't… snuck in here without your knowledge.” Without waiting for your okay, the two marines immediately make for the kitchen. Huffing, you glare at the man who fancies himself in power. 

Before you're able to say anything, or even really move, Sanji comes through the kitchen door pretending to be none the wiser. The apron is properly dirtied, as if he has been trying, and failing, to bake all day. His long bangs are tied back, the tufts on the top of his head reminding you of a pineapple. His face is covered in flour, nose scrunched up as he walks in head down seeming to mutter to himself.

“Why can't I get this – excuse me… oh, I'm sorry” he pauses, reeling at the scene before him, eyes going comically wide as he hugs the bowl and whisk in his hands to his chest. “Am I interrupting?” he asks slowly, frowning. You shake your head slightly, offering him a weak smile. 

“No, it seems that the world government has just made it their goal to harass us today, is all.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as the marines all seem to zero in on him.

“I thought you said you haven't seen the man, miss” The leader snarls. Curiously, Sanji looks down at the wanted poster, his whole face scrunching up. 

“You couldn't possibly mistake… that… for me.” The distaste, the pure unfiltered dejection rolls off of him before offense kicks in. The marines are not amused, but you are, your laughter bubbling up. The sound brings a slight smile to his lips, forcing a pout. 

“This is my newest apprentice,” You start, motioning to Sanji with a smile.

“That is obviously a pirate.” he states again, your glare falling to him as he forces out the pleasantries that are expected of him. “Ma'am..” 

“He is no such thing,” you roll your eyes, looking rather unimpressed. They turn back to Sanji who is just watching them all with a raised brow. 

“What is your name, son?” you’re expecting something common, something easy to fake, but perhaps a strong background. You weren't expecting –

“Rudy,” he states with the utmost clarity, not even pausing for a moment to consider the possibilities. The men before you seemed equally as thrown back, perhaps expecting him to waffle for a moment longer in an attempt to catch him in his lie. 

“Rudy?” the marine repeats back to him, slowly, eyebrows furrowing. Sanji just nods, giving a noncommittal one armed shrug, making sure to not allow the bowl to tip over. 

“It's a family name.” 

Before they can try to wiggle themselves any further, you place your hands on the counter, smiling widely at them. “Now, gentlemen, if you have no further business here, you are invited to go harass those who deserve it.” Several of them go to open their mouths to speak up, but close them when your gaze falls to them, daring them to do so. 

After several moments of awkward silence, the Marines quietly file out of the door, each offering a mild apology as they duck through it. Waiting until the last of them have left, you march to the door and lock it – nevermind it is still mid-afternoon. With a degree of finality, you flip the open sign before turning back to the tall blond standing behind the display as he finally sets the bowl down onto the counter top.

“Uh,” he starts, clearing his throat. “Thank you.” He can't seem to meet your gaze. If he had, he would see the amusement dancing in your eyes. 

“No problem… Rudy.” you jest. He groans pushing the awful wanted poster away from him, watching it as it flutters and flips to the floor. 

“It was the first name that popped in my head,” he defends. “Short notice.” His cheeks flush when you giggle, starting towards him with renewed confidence. Stopping just short of him, you press yourself up onto your tiptoes to run your fingertips over the tufts of hair jutting out from his head. 

“Cute.” 

=========

Night falls surprisingly quickly once you open your doors back up to continue accepting orders. Sanji stays in the kitchen, keeping up the facade of being your newest apprentice as the Marines continue to hover around, lying in wait for him to try and make a break for it.

He doesn't. 

Eventually, they retire for the night. This allows for the darkness that's settled over the town to act as a cover, swallowing the hurried shadows as they file into your little bakery through the back door. Angie is less than enthused to be sharing the space while she continues to busy herself with her job.

“You’re kidding,” Nami tries to sound scandalized but her amusement shines through, earning a glare from the cook before her. Sanji is still wearing the apron you had given him, caked in flour and frosting, though his hair was no longer tied back. Despite his attempts to clean up, he still looked a mess. Usopp and Luffy stare at you and Sanji as you rest against the wall beside the door. 

“We still need a few more days for repairs, Sanji.” the orange haired girl sighs heavily, flopping into the chair she had dragged in from the dining area. “And you go and catch the attention of Marines. Great. Fantastic.” This earns a defensive look from the tall blond beside you. “I expect this from Luffy or Zoro.” She continues, her hands jut out at the men in question sitting before her. 

Luffy does well to look sheepish at the accusation – probably because it's a true statement. The boy can't seem to stay under the radar to save his life. Zoro on the other hand looks so exceptionally bored with the conversation that he could actually be nodding off.

Scratch that. 

He is nodding off. 

“Well,” you start slowly. “I may be able to buy you that time.” You offer, earning a clear resounding chorus of confused sounds and wary looks from the rest of the crew, minus Zoro, and a nervous look from the cook. Angie pauses in her kneading, watching you in curiosity. It isn't often you break your own rules. Rule five, don't fraternize with pirates. Get the job done and walk away. 

Shooting Sanji an apologetic look, you push on, ignoring the amusement in your friends eyes.

“The marines are stupid, but they are consistent in it.” Nami snorts, nodding. “Well, this afternoon was a close one. We were able to convince them that Sanji was not the man they were looking for. We can keep up the story, keep to the bit, and it should allow you to finish your repairs and restock…” 

“What do you need?” Luffy asks, leaning forward curiously. You shrug, jutting your finger at the man beside you. 

“Just your cook,” you state calmly. 

“What’s in it for you?” Usopp asks with a frown. 

“I just hate the smug bastards.” You grouch quietly, earning a snort from Angie where she is busying herself at the overs, muttering to herself. That’s an understatement. You try not to glare at the back of her head.

“Dare I ask, what is the con?” Nami asks, bringing your attention back to her as she stands up, moving to settle before the disheveled cook. He frowns, crossing his arms to mimic her own with a scrunch of his nose. 

“Guys,” you hum, tugging on Sanji’s sleeve, catching him a bit off balance in his stare down with the navigator. “Meet my new apprentice.” 

“So,” a huff comes from the back of the room. “The cooks’ been demoted?” Zoro’s voice rings out in the silence that surrounds the crew, clear amusement lacing every word. Immediately, Sanji moves to jump after the swordsman, growling. 

“Shut it, Mosshead.” 

Angie snickers to herself, sliding past the ragtag group to continue her duties. Pausing before Sanji, she offers him a pat on the arm, her hands dusted with flour only adding to the several layers already thickening his once nice shirt, mirth dancing in her eyes. 

“Welcome to the team, Newbie.”

=========

no pressure tag list: @stray-kaz @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @rainbowpitofdoom

[aggro-my-beloved]

Shaw Pack HC’s (1/?)

note: I promise after this I’ll get some sleep…and dream about more redacted audio HC’s, that is

• Sweetheart has made it their mission to teach Aggro the most random tricks, without Milo’s knowledge. We’re talking fetch, speak, high fives galore. Sweetheart still isn’t sure how Milo hasn’t noticed the cat’s recent weight gain from all the treats he’s been given for “motivation”. It wasn’t until one fateful night that Asher and Baaabe were invited over to break in their new house and Asher left his mode of transportation lying around (him and Baaabe arrived separately since she was working late) that the result of their secret training lessons were exposed.

“Uh, sweetheart,” Milo begins, voice curious and steady.

“Hmm?” His mate hums, craning her neck to peer at Aggro flawlessly passing over the hardwood floor of the living room. It’s yet to be adorned by a rug of their choosing.

“Why is our cat on a skateboard?”

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

• Baaabe has never encountered a physical fight in their life. Always one to stay out of trouble, they keep to themselves and never enter any altercation that involves a clean uppercut or south paw, because they’d surely fail.

Or so they thought. Hell, even Asher did when he begged them to join him in his adventure to the arcade and purposefully led the two of them up to the Boxing Punch Game. It’s the first time Baaabe is seeing the name of the machine, but they are familiar with it. The player decks the red punching bag dangling before them and watches the score tally up to deduce whether they are as strong as they thought or indeed a weakling.

Too afraid of what their results may yield, Baaabe volunteers Asher to go first, which he does without complaint. The sound of his fist colliding with the bag echoes across the arcade hall and perks a few ears, and his score grazes the seven hundreds. Baaabe feels her toes curling in anticipation while Asher keeps on encouraging them to just give it a shot, and that “the score doesn’t matter. You’re unempowered after all, I have a bit of an advanta—“

The rest of his sentence gets caught in his throat, his jaw slack as her numbers climb and climb to over a thousand total points. But even more shocking—to Baaabe’s total disbelief and Asher’s amusement, the punching bag lie on the floor, disconnected from its machine.

Yup. Baaabe broke the fucking game. All from a single hit.

It made Asher hard a little scared of his mate’s true strength. He did the dishes that night without complaint.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

• Clumsy as they may be, I think Angel is secretly good as secretly good as sewing. Perhaps they worked as a part time seamstress for a past job, maybe a uniform store that involved hemming a measurements. This is a wonderful tool to have for emergency instances, like that broken zipper on Baaabe’s wedding attire which Angel resolved with ease. Baaabe would claim the rest of the night that Angel really is a saint sent from higher deities out of our control. Everyone will blame these babbles on the mate’s alcohol intake.

But in the comfort of their home, Angel uses this power for pure, ungodly chaos. Including, but not limited too:

1. Slightly hemming Davey’s tank tops to fit him slimmer around his waist. His mate loves how it shows off his physique.

2. The clothes he hasn’t worn in a while will be cropped to better fit Angel. How they gaslight David into believing his security hoodies keep shrinking in the wash and he needs a better vendor who uses less cotton is still a mystery.

3. Three Words: Ugly. Matching. Sweaters.

4. The entire pack has one designed by Angel personally and almost everybody loves them. Milo pretends not to be offended when he is gifted his sweater that’s two sizes too small. David rarely wears his unless Angel pulls out the puppy dog eyes, which he can never deny pleasing. Baaabe and Asher wear theirs religiously, even if it’s the dead heat of summer.

[lunamochii]

'No more running away.' || atsumu x f!reader

synopsis;

Atsumu doesn't know how to express his feelings and keeps on hurting you.

cw // slight angst, tsundere atsumu, fluff at the end, timeskip tsumu.

¤¤¤

"I love you, Liselotte."

"I love you too, Sieg."

You finish the cake and the soda you bought on your way home from your work, you also finish the romance anime you are watching and damn did that made you feel more depress than ever. Switching off your computer, you look outside from your window and taking a look at the red hue sky.

"I also want to love someone or be love by someone..."

Then you turn to look at your reflection at the mirror beside you and can't help but laugh to yourself knowing full well why anyone wouldn't want to date you. You got up and decided to wash all the dishes and utensils you used.

When done you decided to sleep and while passing by your fridge you saw the tomorrow's date and just shrugs. It will be the same as last year, you will be alone.

You woke up but you remain laying down on your bed not wanting to get up, then your alarm go off and instead of turning off you let it be.

"Ah... I'm sick of this."

Despite all that unwillingness you were on hours ago, you found yourself standing outside the gym. Getting here wasn't that hard as you did your best to ignore all the decorations and the vendors who were selling those heart shape designs. Couples laughing and hugging on the park, side of the street.

"Oh! Your here early, manager!"

You turn around and saw Shoyo and you greeted him with a smile, right. Today is no different from every other days you've live up to.

"Morning, Shoyo."

The two of you walk together inside the gym and you let him take over of the conversation as he talk about how in the past he never gets a single thing during valentines but on his way here, girls were giving him gifts and everything. That's when you notice on how bulky his bag is.

"Oh.. I didn't prepare anything for the team.."

Shoyo immediately catch on and stop on his tracks as he search something frantically on his bag and when he got it he immediately handed it to you

"I actually prepared this for the team! This is yours!"

You carefully took it from his hands and saw it was a cupcake shape in a heart and your name is written on it.

"Shoyo... pfft- hahaha this is so cute! Thank you!"

You hug him and Shoyo breath out seeing how your mood went up, the moment he saw you standing outside the gym he knew something was off and his glad he did prepare those cupcakes with the help of his sister.

Both of you got where to the others are and Shoyo handed his cupcakes and the others saw how he got you a valentines gift, others followed suit making you smile warmly and thank them wholeheartedly.

"Hm? Aren't you going to give our cute manager here a valentine gift Miya-kun?"

Meian the captain of MSBY team tug on the setter and Atsumu answered him with a scowl on his face, ever since you took the job on being the manager of this team. Not even once did Atsumu Miya smiled to your way.

"Ehh should I really? I don't see a reason to give her anything though."

Right. His not wrong too, why would he give you something right? It's not like you two are that close. You only became their manager just a year ago. You also know how much he hates you, despite your spiraling thoughts you manage to smile.

"You didn't have to say it that way Miya!"

"Captain, it's okay. I'm okay. You guys can proceed on practicing, I'll just put your gifts on the locker room."

The voleyball players watch your disappearing figure and they couldn't even say anything. Then their heads turn to Atsumu who was also taken back by what he said and see how sad you look, made him mentally punch himself.

"Miya! You could have worded that nicely!"

Meian angrily said and Atsumu grit his teeth, everyone here knows how much he likes you. He likes you so much that he goes crazy whenever you show your support on the team. He likes you so much that everytime he look over to where you usually sit during one of his matches, he always feels like he can smash the opponent with just his serve.

"Why do you care? It's her own fault if she gets hurt by just that!"

"Miya!"

The others quickly held back their captain from attacking their setter

"What has gotten into you TsumTsum? You like he-"

"I don't!! Like?! More like, I hate her!!"

The sound of water bottle dropping on the wooden floor grab everyone's attention and they spotted you standing there completely dumbfounded. Atsumu's breath hitches seeing you.

"Haha I never knew you hated me that much. Don't worry, I will do my best to stay out of your sight."

No. You should always be at the line of his sight. He doesn't hate you. Don't make that kind of face.

"Let go of me!"

Atsumu storm out of the court. Why is he so mad? Is it because Shoyo manage to beat him on giving you a present? Because the others got you a lot more beautiful gifts? He kick the vending machine. He didn't mean those words. He didn't mean to hurt you.

¤¤

Weeks have pass ever since that incident and you live up to your word, doing your best to stay out of his sight. Making the setter get more agitated, his not doing that great during practice match. His serves doesn't feel that great and their coach have been reprimanding him. He knows he needs to be on his best since they have a upcoming match.

"Thanks!"

"No problem."

He glances at the side and saw you interacting with the others and the sight of you smiling, smiling to the others and not him, it sure made him more agitated. When it was time for their practice, he keeps on missing on the timing.

"Atsumu, set your personal matters aside. I don't need a player who gets distracted easily."

"Sorry coach.."

Grabbing a towel and a water bottle he sat down on a corner, he watch the others play but his eyes search for you and when he found you, a smile appeared to his lips but it disappeared quickly seeing how you laugh and smile fondly towards Kotaro.

"Isn't your birthday the same day our match is?! We should all go drinking after!"

Kotaro suggested but you feel the need to decline, for you it's just another normal day. You got used spending it alone that you even decline the company of your closest friends.

"Ah, Sorry! I made plans with my friends that day so I can't!"

Lies drip from your lips effortlessly

"Ehh really? Too bad, let's go drinking the other day then!"

"Hahaha okay okay! Now, go back to practice."

You push him back on the court and you let out a sigh, you start to pick up the used towels and water bottles and when you were about to refill the bottles, you saw Atsumu staring at you. You bowed curtly and ran away. Ran away from him and that hurt Atsumu.

¤¤

"Can't be help. They were prepared this time, the defeat you experience today only means that you guys still need to keeps on improving. You all can go home after stretching."

You couldn't bring yourself to speak seeing how devastated they look, despite doing their best they couldn't win against the opponent. Meian, being the captain steps up and clap his hands getting the attention of his members.

"Okay, we just need to train harder! Le-"

"My toss was perfect. So why couldn't you hit it perfectly?"

The cold voice of Atsumu followed by his words stop the captain, they all look at him and notice how his glaring hard at Kotaro.

"Huh?"

"Or are you too busy flirting with our manager that you couldn't focus on our game?"

"That's going too far."

Kiyoomi who is usually silent steps up

"Yeah, Bokuto-san was playing just as usual. It's just our oppone-"

"Really? Because every time out he always manages to flirt with her. Maybe his too engrossed with her that *SLAP*"

Atsumu felt his world stop as soon he felt the stinging pain on his cheeks, his eyes slowly drops on the person who just did that to him and his world crumble upon seeing your tears racing down from your eyes to your cheeks

"I know you hate me but you don't have any right to blame other people for the loss you guys got today!"

His hand mindlessly reach out to you but you slap it away and glared at him

"You're the worst."

¤¤

"She's not coming today too..."

Shoyo feels defeated seeing how their training is coming to an end but they didn't see you again. It's been four days and no one got the guts to voice out the reason for the thick air around the team. Atsumu resorted to practicing alone, Kotaro refuses to speak to the setter too despite the convincing of their captain.

"We can't blame her. Atsumu's words were really harsh."

Shion, the libero of their team speaks up and Shoyo silently agree. He might have known Atsumu during his highschool days but he knows he didn't mean any of those words. Atsumu may deny it but Shoyo sees how the setter looks at their manager.

Wake up, eat, sleep and repeat. That has been your routine for four days.

Atsumu's words really did a unthinkable impact to you, despite him showing not any ounce of an interest ever since you join the team, you still like him. Yes, you like him. During your highschool years, you watch one of his match during nationals and you were drawn to him seeing how he passionately loves to play voleyball. You couldn't be more than happier when you were accepted as a manager of the MSBY, knowing you applied for this job to be close to him but who knew he would be like this? Who would have thought that ha hates you.

"Let's just go to sle- *ring ring*"

You let out a grunt and reach out to your phone, not bothering who's the caller only to be met with your friend's loud voice

"Oi! How dare you ignore our messages and call?! Don't tell me you didn't do anything during your birthday?!"

You groan and check to see who and saw it was one of your very close friend, well, after that day you decided to block anyone who tries to call or text you since you wanted to be alone, it was only today that you lifted that block.

"A hello would have been good." You muttered and got up from your bed

"Dress warm and come down. We are all waiting for you."

"Huh?"

You immediately ran out from your apartment and there they are, you saw your friends holding a bottle of beers and snacks. When they spotted you, they all grin at you.

"Hurry! You have made us waited for days already!"

You stare at them blankly before laughing and going back inside to change into warm clothes, you pick your keys and immediately went out. When you got to them, they all jump at you and greeted you belayed happy birthday.

"Okay! Let's get drunk!"

>>

"I DON'T WANNA BE SINGLE ANYMORE! I DON'T CARE ANYMORE ON WHAT TYPE OF MAN YOU GIVE ME GOD!"

Your friends bursted out to laughter after hearing what you scream, you guys are currently sitting by the riverbank enjoying the drinks and foods they brought with them. You all catch up to each other's lives and it didn't matter if you guys barely texted to each other because at the end of day, all of you will find it's way to each other and will always end up sitting together and talk about how's everyones life.

You guys drink and talk for 2 hours before deciding it is time go home, they all walk you back to your apartment since you were the one who is very wasted. They wanted to walk you towards your apartment door but you ushered them to just go home already. Since you didn't wanna bother them any longer plus you didn't want to let them see how mess your home currently is.

On the other hand, Osamu manage to knock some sense on his twin and Atsumu found himself standing by your home's door. When he was about to knock, he heard steps at his right side and when he saw you, he took a step back

"Atsumu? Hmm can't be him. Who are you?"

You walk up closer to him but you're too drunk to see clearly, Atsumu caught on the smell of alcohol and he curses when you stumbled on your feet and landed on his chest.

"Why did you drink so much? You can't hold your liquor that well."

"Hahahaha right! You can't be Atsumu, that man hates me. He don't care a thing about me."

You said with your eyelids half close and slowly inhaling his scent and somehow it brings you comfort. Atsumu couldn't say a word as he search for your pockets, when he got your keys he inserted to your door and open it.

He tried waking you up so he could help you walk inside but you didn't budge. Atsumu ended up carrying you into his arms and when he step inside your home, he notice how you toss the MSBY jacket on the side. Several cans of beer lying on the floor, trash that weren't taken out. A total mess.

"Atsumu why.... why do you hate me?"

He look down at you and couldn't help but lean down and kiss you on the forehead

"I don't hate you. I like you."

¤¤

You woke up with a major headache and it got worse when you scan your home and see that it's very clean. You don't even remember how you got home, maybe one of your friends clean your home for you. You gotta thank them some time.

Today, you decided to go back to work since you can't keep on being like this. You hurriedly took a bath and just slip on anything comfortable. That's right, this heavy feeling will eventually pass. Right now, you gotta focus on getting yourself live! Before you can leave, you decided to just sneak and watch them in secret. Your heart and mind is still not ready to face them, or him.

"Nice kill!"

"High five!"

Smiling Atsumu. What a rare sight and sore for your eyes, he is smiling but not towards your way. You aren't the reason why his smiling..

"Hng!"

You slap both of your cheeks stopping yourself to think anything further, this is a small step you are taking in order for you to let go of your feelings to him. You resume watching them play in two vs two although you don't know the other people on the court. They all look like they are close, maybe highschool friends.

You grab your phone to look at the message that just pop and it's Shoyo texting that the team misses you and it'd be nice if you come so you will meet his seniors and other friends. During these days Shoyo and the others keeps on texting you, even Kiyoomi who you took as someone who really don't care of his surroundings.

'I will try.'

You hit send and as soon your message was delivered you heard someone scream from the court, you're glad they can't see you from this seat since you decided to take a seat on the second floor row seats.

"She's coming! Finally! She's comingg!"

"Eh? Who's coming?"

"Our manager!"

They gathered around Shoyo and saw your reply, all of them keeps on texting you but you only replied to Shoyo. Atsumu grip the ball that is on his hand, remembering he stayed in your hour for an hour after he was done cleaning. Since it was only the time he could admire your face from a closer look.

Your debating whether you should go down or not but seeing the expression of the team being excited of you coming back, you just have to thicken your face and hope your gaze won't meet Atsumu's. On your way down, you notice people coming so you took a turn to the right but you ended up bumping to someone.

"Ow... I'm sorry!"

"It's my fault, I was on my phone."

You look up and the both of you have same expression

"Sachiro?!"

"Ms. Birdie!"

You quickly smack him on the shoulders and he laugh loudly, you can't believe he still remembers that nickname he gave you.

"Can you please forget about that?! It's the most embarassing moment of my life!"

"Ehhh? But remembering your devastated face is quite fun."

Well, who wouldn't be devastated when the pet bird you just bought from a pet store flew away from the cage just because it wasn't lock securely and he just happen to be passing by and witness it all.

"Sachiro!"

"Okay okay! Pfft-"

You rolled your eyes but you soon join him to laughing and when you both calm down, you decided to ask why his here

"Oh my friend invited me. He plays for Adlers but today they all got the gym for themselves and all the team we all fought during highschool are here."

So that's why there's so many people! You also notice the twin of Atsumu standing on the side while talking to some people.

"What about you?" He ask

"Oh... I'm actually the manager of MSBY and I was just sneaking around since something happened and uh..."

You look away and Sachiro is quick to sense that something is going on but he decided not to pry further.

"That's nice! Are you leaving or going in there?"

"Oh uhm... I'm going."

Sachiro smiled and you both walk towards the entrance of the court and your heart began to pound very loud that you unconsciously grab on to his jacket, when the both of you immerge from the entrance. Instantly eyes are on you or maybe on your hands grabbing tightly on his jacket.

"Sachiro! Why are you with the manager of the jackals?"

"We're friends and we bump to each other."

Korai ask then his eyes darted on the hands of the woman trembling while grabbing a good hold of his friend's coat. Shoyo manage to let him in on what happened to the jackals lately and he turn his attention to the jackals setter and oh boy the ball is near to exploding.

"Are you that nervous?"

Sachiro turn slightly to lean down and whisper to your ears

"Huh?! I-I'm not! Hey everyone!"

Your hands let go of his coat and ran towards where your team is and Shoyo is the first one to jump at you and hug your frame tight until it led to a group hug. Then, Shoyo began to introduce you to the other people and you met his seniors and the other players. Some of them have drop playing voleyball upon graduating from highschool and some didn't.

"Heya~ you're the only who haven't tasted my new recipe."

"Osamu!"

The black haired man grin and handed you his newly made onigiri, you can say that you're close to him since the team sometimes eats on his restaurant here in Tokyo.

"Oh my! This is yummy!"

"Heh- then I'll add this to my menu. Oh, you got something in your face..."

You were about to get it but he beat you to it as he took it with a swipe using his thumb and your cheeks turn red seeing how he lick his thumb.

"Osa- What the fuck is your deal?"

Atsumu came infront of you and push his twin away from you and several people immediately hold Atsumu back and Osamu ignored his twin as he look at you

"You should just forget this stupid asshole and get it with me."

Before you can even say something Atsumu was already screaming his twin's name and was about to punch but Osamu is quick to dodge it as he ran away laughing.

"You. Come here."

Atsumu said as soon he return from chasing his brother, he tug on your hand and led you at the locker room. What even happened? You ask yourself. Why are you alone with him in this room? Should you say sorry for slapping him? But why would you? Wh-

"Everytime I land my gaze at you, you're with a man. What's with you pulling men from left to right?"

Your eyebrow raises and you immediately meet his eyes

"Are you telling me that I'm a slut?"

"What?! How did you- fuck!"

"Don't curse at me! I get it. You're mad because I slap you. Well, I'm sorry! But you're still an asshole!"

Atsumu groan as he pace back and forth trying to come up with the best words he can. Osamu, that idiot just had to add fuel to his jealousy. Why is he so jealous?! Why?!

"Why do I like you so much?!"

"What..."

Your breath hitches when he suddenly look at you and immediately his right in front of you. Your back press agaisnt the door with his right arm place right above your head

"What did you do to me? How come I like you so much that it irritated me so much not being the first one to give you something during valentines."

His minty breath fans your face as he reach for your hair and starts to play with it, being this close to you is making him go crazy, he can't even think straight.

"I like you so much that I hate how you smiled brightly towards Bokuto and how his the one who gets to bask on your warmth."

He place his right hand on your cheeks and you are looking straight on to his eyes, he leans down and you swear to God that your heart is about to burst out from your ribcage

"I like you so much that seeing other men touching you is making me go crazy.."

His lips hovers over yours and you were the one to close the gap. Maybe you are crazy. Maybe you like him so much too that you lost all the right to think straight.

"Shit"

Atsumu's arms immediately wrap around your waist and press your body more towards his. He lick your lower lip and you immediately let his tongue in, you moan out through the kiss and Atsumu almost punch the door.

"I need to breath.."

"More.."

He claim your lips again and you hold on to him for a support, his fingers running through your hair as he kisses you deep and full of love. He didn't even notice his tears streaming down to his cheeks. You immediately pulled away and cup his cheeks

"Why are you crying?!"

"I like- no, I love you. Please, I love you so much. I'm sorry... I'm sorry for being a dickhead to you. I'm sorry for being an asshole."

"Atsumu..."

He place one hand over yours as he kiss your palms then it trails down towards your wrist and he looks at you, with teary eyes

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me? Hm? I will do my best to change. Just... just let me love you."

Now, it's your turn to cry and you punch him on the chest as you sob uncontrollably. He let you punch him and when you stop he hug you tight, burying his face on the crook of your neck

"Idiot. You're an idiot! Why weren't you honest from the start?! Do you know how hard it is for me to endure with the thought of the person I like, hates me? You're an idiot!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry.. it's just... I didn't know any better. You... you were just so amazing. You were always there for us, supporting us. That I started to doubt that if I would be like that too. Be there for you, support you through your decisions. I... I got scared that if I let you know how I feel, you would distance yourself to me.."

So that's why you sometimes catches him glancing from you but you really didn't pay any attention to it.

"I'm just a manager. It is my duty to keep the teams spirit."

"You're more than that! During our darkest moment in court, you always manage to cheer us up. Your inspiring words are one of the reasons that keeps us winning our fights."

He grab a hold of your hand and kiss your knuckles as he looks at you

"You're my world... you are my light. I love you. Can I be your lover?"

You look at him with mix emotions and you ended up laughing with tears, guess you can call this a tears of joy now.

"Very cheesy isn't like you Tsumu."

His smile widen and engulf you to a tight hug. He pulled away and cup your cheeks as he capture your lips to kiss you tenderly. He press his forehead to yours and the both of you are smiling, he kiss your nose and you both giggled

"Let's go? The others must be worried."

You nodded and the both of you walk out of the room hand in hand and you notice how silent the court is

"Did they left?" You ask and squeeze his hand, seeing the lights on the court were turn off

"I think? Let me check my pho- Congratsulations!"

All the lights turn on at the same time and when your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, you saw a banner stating

'Congrats on not being a coward anymore Atsumu!'

Your gaze drops on his arm that is wrap around your shoulders making you stand close to him

"Ah to be young..."

Meian wipe the single tear on his eyes, he saw you on the second floor and knew right away that this love chase has to end. So he ask Shoyo to text you convincing you to come, he knows you will. He also ask Korai to have his friend approach you. Lucky, he says since you and Sachiro had some connection. Then when he notice Atsumu glaring daggers towards your direction, he got Atsumu's twin on his plan and that's how it went.

"What the hell! You guys were evesdropping!!"

"Please forgive me hm?"

Osamu said mockingly and Atsumu started to chase him again and you just stand there laughing. Hearing you laugh is enough to make Atsumu feel things, he went back to you and kiss you infront of all the people and it did shut you up. He embrace you with one arm and look at the people, grinning from ear to ear.

"Atsumu Miya is officially taken."

¤¤¤

You were woken up when you felt something wrap around your waist, slowly your eyes flutter open and was greeted by a snoring Atsumu. A soft smile grace your lips, fingers lightly stroking his face. It has been five months now ever since you guys started dating. He also successfully persuaded you on moving to his house here in Tokyo. A lot has happened ever since you guys started dating, you are still their manager but Atsumu is thinking taking a break from voleyball. He reasons that he wants to start planning for your guys future.

"G'morning babe..."

"Mornin' Tsumu."

You kiss him on the lips and he smiled and pulls you even closer, today he got a day off and it means he doesn't have to participate to the practice. You were also given a day off so he suggested you guys go on a date today.

"Where do you want to go?" You ask, your fingers now playing on his hair

"Anywhere as long as I'm with you."

He replied and it made you feel butterflies in your stomach. You pinch him and he laugh at your reaction, he will never get tired of seeing your flustered face.

"Be seirous!"

"I am serious, as long as I'm with you anywhere is fine."

He moved and now his on top of you and you felt his fingers rubbing circles on your thighs, he leans down and lick the mark he made last night. You let out a whimper, his hand moving slowly to where he kept on touching you last night also.

"Again? We were on it till 3am..."

"Promise, We'll get up after."

He said but you know better than to trust his words but you just let him. You love it anyways.

The end.

[simulamortem]

@naboocrowned

NABOO wasn't lacking in idyllic scenery. While he was in town and decently disguised, he had suggested something of a date the day after the wedding. Figured they could both use a chance to properly unwind after enduring such a social event.

So after a bit of sleeping in for Symphony's sake, they went out that morning to a market where the queen could pick out whatever she might like to eat or drink for the day - all on her date's dime, out of sentiment more than anything. Fresh breads, fruits, sweets, various wraps and items that would be easy to pack for a picnic were all available, and Revenant provided his input wherever she had trouble DECIDING, particularly in regards to a wine.

Everything was collected into a locally woven basket lined in linen, including hand-carved wooden dishes and utensils from another market vendor, and while Revenant picked those things out, Symphony had moved nearby to another stall for something that had caught her eye - returning with whatever it was in a bag. Carrying the basket, he offered it open for her to add whatever she'd picked up, if it would fit, before they finally caught their ride out to the spot he had in mind.

An area with ample shade from a cluster of trees, overlooking a meadow with wild grasses, FLOWERS, other scattered trees, and a nearby stream. A village wasn't far, but enough they wouldn't be bothered, and Theed's skyline could still be seen in the distance. "Your whole planet looks like a damn postcard," Revenant seemed to gripe, teasing. Setting the basket down, he moved to aid Symphony in laying out the blanket she'd brought.

[jarofstyles]

Splendore- Verboten 8

They're back. Best friend's Dadrry returns and this time in another country. 👀💋

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Series masterlist

Warnings- emotions, slight angst, fluff, I promise there's smut next time

---

Harry’s idea to let them bond together without the worry of someone they know catching them hadn’t been what Y/N expected.

She had imagined a trip into the city, maybe to a few over so they could get used to being out together, to being a couple they wanted to be. Maybe a BnB if he was feeling fancy.

It turns out, he was feeling luxurious.

Italy had been the last of her guesses, not even truly on the brain. The older man had her pack her bags and told her they were going to one of his houses. She had been given the hints of a ‘warm climate’ and to pack those ‘pretty bathing suits and sundresses’ that he loved oh, so much. Y/N did exactly as asked, packing up her suitcase with the cool packing cubes she had bought from being influenced online - she was weak for easier travel- and prepared for at least a bit of fun in the sun. Her suspicions rose when he had mentioned a passport, but when they sat in the first class seats on a flight to Italy, she was in shock.

Harry had laughed at her shock, how she bounced on her heels when she had figured it out when they arrived at the lounge. She had thanked him with kisses to the cheek, her hood falling off her face as she held his far too pretty for a grown man’s face. Y/N hadn’t been to Italy, let alone know that he had a house there. Imagine her reaction when he broke out into Italian, speaking to the gate agent as soon as they landed about something that she couldn't understand. Her attraction to him had already been sky high, but the last few hours had elevated it specifically.

2 weeks. They were spending 2 weeks in Italy, Y/N finally quitting the job she hated with plans to look for another one when she got back, and a weight lifted off her shoulders. Her excuse to Lia had been she was going to go see where her extended family lived, whilst Harry said he had business. It wasn’t a lie- Y/N did have family here, but she wasn’t exactly going to see them.

Y/N’s arms wrapped around his one as they walked through one of the street markets. Harry had been the one to choose her dress, deciding on a white base colored one with tiny baby blue florals covering it. It hugged her waist and flared out, reaching right above her knee and was off the shoulder with tiny puff sleeves- a beautiful one he hadn’t seen before. They’d lazed about in bed sleeping off a bit of the travel from the day prior,  but Y/N had been a bit antsy to see things. Harry knew the area well, had spent some summers here with family, and he was a massive fan of the country in general.

Sunglasses hung on the bridge of his nose as he stopped at one of the stalls, looking at the fresh fruit lined up. He hadn’t gone to the market yet, and it was probably a good idea to get some fruit while they were here. “Why don’t you pick out some that looks good to you, hm?” He turned to murmur against her temple.

Y/N wasn’t used to being allowed to be so openly affectionate with Harry.  The times they’d gone out back home, they’d still been cautious with how close and sweet they were in fear of their relations being reported back to someone who didn’t need to know. Being in Italy offered a type of freedom that she didn’t expect to feel so good. Hanging on his arm felt so perfect, like it fit right into her own. Letting her arm drop from his, she chose a few things. A few packets of berries that looked particularly ripe and juicy, some peaches that were far softer than any she had felt, and a few red and green mottled apples were placed into the wicker basket she had bought from a few vendors up. She knew Harry was a fan of cherries, so she chose a small bag and picked up a pomegranate for herself before stopping. Looking at him for approval, he simply nodded and took the basket from her to show the vendor.

“Mi scusi, quanto costa tutto questo?” His Italian made her blink. His voice had always been a weakness of hers, but hearing him talk in a different language and sound so… dreamy? She felt a bit wobbly in the knees, eyes locked on his face as he spoke. The exchange was completely missed on the other end, her long lashes blinking as she watched Harry pull his worn leather wallet out from his front pocket and hand over a few bills. She watched his eyes slide over to her, catching her staring point blank as his lips quipped up in a tiny smirk.

“Grazie Signore.”

His hand found Y/N’s, threading their fingers together as they continued to walk with her basket in his hand now. He wouldn’t let her carry her own stuff a lot of the time and as much as it drove her crazy, it also showed that he was a real gentleman. They just didn’t make them like this anymore. That’s why she’s gone with an original model, she supposed.

“Got something on my face?” His smug little smile hadn’t dwindled, their hands swinging slightly in between them as she could feel his happiness. It squeezed her heart in her chest. As many times as she’s seen the man content, she had never seen him like this. This level of happiness, or seemingly free. She could relate, but seeing it in the man who was usually quite reserved and had been known to her as an authority in a way, an intimidation, it was a breath of fresh air. His giddiness was contagious.

“Mhm. A little smug look on that face.” She laughed, rolling her eyes in jest as they continued to walk down the cobblestones. “You’re just very pretty. That’s all.” She feigned a bit more indifference than she actually felt.

“Oh? And it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you look at me like I offered you a lifetime supply of peach tea when I speak Italian?” He rose a brow, calling her out directly on her bullshit. “I do appreciate the compliment though. I prefer ruggedly handsome, a sexpot, maybe. But pretty will do.”

“A sexpot?” Y/N snorted, nose crinkling in distaste as she looked at him over her own sunglasses. “I forgot you’re an old man sometimes. But fine. Maybe I do like hearing you speak in a foreign language. You surprise me, is all.” She shrugged one shoulder, continuing the swinging of their arms. It was odd, how well they connected despite all their seemingly different life points. They melded together like precious metals over a flame, combining in a way that made her positive that traces of him would remain in her forever.

“Good. You’ve got a lot to learn about me.” He hummed, squeezing their joined hands. The man seemed a bit shy with her sometimes, like now that they were out of their normal element, he was a tad more vulnerable. It was something Y/N found to be refreshing. She wasn’t the only one a little nervous. Or perhaps he had always felt like this, but hadn’t felt ok showing it.

“Hm. Let’s look in here.” Harry interrupted her train of thought, pulling her into a stall with dresses.

Harry had a thing for them, as they’d previously discussed. He liked seeing her in flowy, soft dresses that showed off her shoulders and her legs. It had taken her slightly off guard considering she had thought he would prefer to see her in her bathing suits- which, he did obviously enjoy, but he had shown more excitement to see the dresses she had shown and requested them specifically.

“Are you going to get something?” Y/N asked, looking at the colorful pieces hung up on a pole and the rolling racks. They were beautiful, but definitely pricey. She couldn’t fault them for it, as they looked hand made and artists deserved to be paid for their work appropriately. She had to be a bit careful with her spending, though, considering she had just quit her old job.

“Mhm. We both are.” Harry’s words made her turn to him, lifting the glasses off her face.

“Oh? I am?” She crossed her arms, looking up at him with her brows raised, only to be met with a laughing man who scooped her into his arms, pulling her into his chest. She had no time to question before he was kissing the top of her head, pulling back to look at her face.

“Yes. M’gonna be buying you what I’d like to see you in.” He said easily.  “And probably some things for myself.” There were a nice variety of shirts and shorts, so he could choose for himself. It was written all over her face, her reflex to argue, but instead of allowing it, he tipped her chin up and covered her lips with his own, cutting off any sort of rebellion. Kissing her for the first time, properly, in a public place. It had caught her off guard, her body relaxing slightly before he pulled back from her. “Just let me. Yeah? It’ll make me happy.” He smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Per favore, bellezza mia. Lascia che ti vizi.” The croon of a whispered Italian sentence, despite her not really knowing what he said besides please, had her core heating up.

God damn, he was good.

“Fine. Fine… If it’ll make you happy.” She whispered back, leaning up to peck his lips again. It took him by surprise, but one he happily leaned into. Harry’s wide grin was reward enough.

After that, it was a bit of a blur. Y/N said yes and no to a few dresses, trying her best to be conservative with the money he was spending because it still made her a little uneasy- but seeing the amount of clothing that he had folded up for himself, it reminded her that he really did have the funds. His home here alone should show her that- but in the back of her mind, she knew she was worried about what people would say.

Gold digger. With him for the money.

It wasn’t that she necessarily cared about anyone else's opinion of her, but she didn’t like the idea of people saying she didn’t feel for him as strongly as he did for her. She would be with Harry if he didn’t have money at all at this point. Of course, she couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a good thing to have. That it didn’t arouse her to know her man could take care of her, that he was successful and driven and able to provide and create things. It did, more than she cared to admit. It just wasn’t why she was with him.

Harry had swept her off her feet, what started out as a fuck in the poolhouse turning into a full blown relationship with feelings and anxious glances and sweet giggles. It was different than past relationships but also, not. The circumstances certainly were unique, the risk especially so, but the full bellied butterflies she got whenever she thought about him, the late night calls, the rest of it all resembled a pure romance.

She acted the part of a spoiled girl well in most other contexts, but actually allowing people to provide things for her had always made her feel a bit uncomfortable. It was never an even exchange. Harry’s expression had been so earnest when he had told her he wanted to do it for her, she couldn’t tell him no.

The shop owner had looked overjoyed, throwing suggestions to them and acting as a personal shopper once she had deciphered what size Y/N would be, a flush on her face as she realized it meant real money for her. That was another reason she let the guilt melt away. Providing income for a local artisan was worth it. Falling into it, she smiled and showed her preferences towards cuts, choosing one of the lilac ones from the rack, a soft linen mustard colored dress with floral embroidery across the bust, a deep red maxi dress with a mix of lace creating pleats, a white wrap skirt, and a few other things that Harry had decided she was getting. Y/N wasn’t about to deny him. It was his money.

By the end of it, they had two bags of clothing, separated to his and hers by the helpful and gracious artisan who kissed both of their cheeks repeatedly and apparently invited them both to dinner while they were here. Y/N didn't know what he had said in response, but she assumed by the large smile that it was an acceptance.

He had a charm about him. She had noticed it, obviously, but as they continued through the market and shopped it became apparent that he just had a magnetic quality to him that had her looking on the interactions fondly. This was an unfiltered view of the man that made her feel a fluttering in her chest, the luck she had stumbled upon by getting to spend her time with him realized fully as she continued their walk. He was a gentleman, stopping and letting her browse one of the pottery stalls so she could choose a mug- finally letting her pay for something herself when she had pouted at him- and decided to get him one as well. Hers had oranges on it, Harry’s matching with lemons.

Italy was far warmer than she had realized though, and her inner thighs were starting to sweat. She needed a break, which she told him in a soft request to go back to the house to relax by the pool. Her body was in desperate need of a shower and far less clothing. This had been the most walking she had done in months.

He had insisted on gelato before they made the trek back up to the villa, Y/N choosing a Tiramisu flavor and Harry getting pistacchio. Leisurely, they walked hand in hand while the bags hung off Harry's elbow and her basket back on her own while they licked at the treat. It was melting fast, her tongue working over the sides to try and constrain it from dripping all over her fingers. Being sticky on top of sweaty and tired was not on the top of her to-do list.

“Messy girl.” His eyes had been watching intently as they paused at the top of the hill to give her a second to breathe. Her tongue flicked over her fingertips as the melty cream dribbled down over the cone, making his stomach burn a little bit. The woman managed to make the most mundane things either utterly adorable or completely erotic depending on the mood. In this instance, he was reminded of her sitting on her knees, lapping up every drip of his cum when he had finished in her mouth. Greedy for it, he had soaked up every moment of her desperation. It was a cherished memory of his he would be happy to relive.

“Perv.” She smirked, shaking her head as she looked him in the eye, taking a long lick. If he was going to be flirty, she was going to return it right back. “Don’t start when we’re out here. If you’re going to be dirty, wait till we’re back in private.” Her hip bumped his before she started off on her own, leaving him to follow right on behind while watching her skirt sway.

—---

“Darling?” A soft voice woke her from her light sleep, cool fingertips brushing over her cheek. The warm ocean breeze and sound of the water and birds had lulled her into a state of relaxation while the sun had begun to set. Eyes peeled open to see Harry smiling down at her, shirt hanging off of his shoulders while he was bare underneath. He was bent down, arm resting on the back of the lounger while the other stroked her face. “There she is. Fell asleep?” He looked down at the book splayed out on her stomach and the half finished spritz on the side table, evidence of the accidental dozing.

“Yeah, m’sorry.” Knuckles reached up to rub at her eyes, peering up at him with a soft grin. “Didn’t mean to. The breeze felt really good.” Finishing with her no longer sleepy eyes, her fingers went to his wrist, urging his hand to cup her cheek the way she liked. “Did you have a good shower?”

Harry had left her out to relax while he had answered a few emails and took a shower, needing to wash the day off of him. Y/N had done so earlier when he had made them food, so it had been his turn. She had told him she was going to relax by the pool with her drink and book and she wasn’t too tired, but it was obvious the day had caught up with her a little bit.

“I did, yeah.” He stroked the apple of her cheek with his thumb, seeing her face relax into the hold he kept. “Missed you a little, though. Much more fun with you complaining about how it isn't hot enough.”

“Well, you take lukewarm showers at best. I like to feel a bit of burn.” She huffed, turning her face to bite the heel of his palm lightly to show her displeasure. “Rude. But, I missed you too. Come sit with me.”

Y/N’s body shuffled over, allowing him to lay on his side next to her. The size left little room between them, but Y/N remedied that as she moved her leg to hook over his waist, sighing as she snuggled up to him. Harry couldn’t control the flip flop his stomach did at her apparent comfort with him, feeling easy enough to do something like that with him. No hesitation now, lips pressed against the base of his throat before she settled in.

“Comfortable?” His voice murmured, hand falling to her bare back to stroke the warm expanse.

“Mhm.” Her replied was hummed, hand resting on his chest as she sagged into his hold. “I’m really happy.”

The words had sounded like it took her a moment to admit. His breath caught, looking at the top of her head as she kept her face tucked against his throat. Hiding a little bit, but he could understand why. Admitting things, feelings, it was intimidating. “Yeah?” He chuckled, letting his blunt nails run over her spine, memorizing the feeling of its ridges under the skin. “Good. That’s all I want for you. I wanted to take you away… let you feel relaxed for once.”

His words vibrated against her cheek, tickling her slightly. She hummed back, twirling the chain of his necklace around her finger. A force of habit now. “I am. It was a really good idea. I…” There was a pause, hesitation coating her tongue as she decided to go for it anyways. “I was really scared I messed this up completely. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like… Like you weren’t enough, or I wasn’t happy. I know we talked about it before, and I don’t want to ruin a good day with those thoughts, but I really like you and I loved how it felt when we were out earlier. Holding your hand, when you kissed me…” She swallowed the lump that had formed, his soothing fingers continuing their path. He knew what she needed. “It felt right. I know back at home, some people are probably going to have a lot to say, a lot of mean things probably, saying I’m in this for money or something and that you’ll get over me or whatever but I just want you to know that I think we could work.”

Mustering up the courage to pull back and look at his face, she looked into his own eyes. They looked light, but focused. Intent as he met her gaze, encouraging her to continue to speak. She had no idea how he felt, how he felt a little choked up himself at her words and her resolve over the both of them. “I think we could. I’m sorry I seemed so wishy-washy before with us. With putting labels and dancing round things.  I was scared to ask for anything more because I enjoyed us together and I didn’t want to be a silly little girl and assume you’d want something with me.” There was a pregnant pause, Y/N’s eyes falling from his for a moment. “I know theres a lot against us. I’m half your age, you’re Lia’s dad, it’s going to cause problems but I-I really think it’s worth exploring. I don’t want you to get hurt by the repercussions and like I said, I know it’ll cause some issues but-”

Y/N’s words were cut off with his mouth. A deep kiss, fingers angling her up towards him and keeping her chin between his fingers as he locked their lips together, letting her feel him. Heat flushed in her body, leaning into it immediately. He had stolen her breath, a tiny whimper leaving her throat as he attempted to pull back. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back to her with a quiet mewl of ‘No’ before sealing their soft mouths back again, feeling his harsh exhale through his nose when she dragged her nails over his exposed chest and pulled back to peck his lips a few times. He eagerly responded, chasing her lips a few more times before giving a breathless chuckle, forehead resting against her own.

His heart thumped in his chest as he took a moment, opening his mouth to speak to her but failing. How could he possibly be able to tell her how much he actually appreciated her? He had to at least try.

“I don’t think words will be enough to accurately describe to you how much I feel for you already. I know. I know of the risks, the things people would say, the things that could possibly happen as a result. Trust me when I say that a relationship with you is all that has been clouding my mind for the last few weeks. I’ve thought through every scenario, as good and as bad as they could get, but none of them are as bad as the thought of losing out on being with you.”

His voice was slightly hoarse, the kiss and the mere passion he felt stealing some of the strength he usually had, but he powered on. “Y/N… I know I was cruel to you the other night. I was pathetically jealous, angry that it wasn’t me. That I couldn’t make it easier on you to be with me. I can’t control what people outside of myself do, and I should have conducted myself better but you…. You make me feel again. It’s unnerving and I felt raw and naked and hurt because I was letting you in and it felt like perhaps that wouldn’t be enough. That I’d be a phase. But it was cruel of me to underestimate you and think poorly of your intentions because of my own insecurities. As good as I try to be… I am still a man.” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “A silly, jealous, needy man who wanted to rip the hands off of the guy in that photo for touching your shoulder. I wanted to storm down to the bar and toss you over my shoulder, take you home where you belong. When I realized I didn’t have a claim over you, it hurt. It made me feel bitter and irritated and then you showed up to my house, wearing a dress that you put on for another man… I went mad. But it wasn’t fair of me. I was feeling those same insecurities, and I didn’t let you speak. And for that, I’m sorry.” He returned to her chin, tilting it back up and pressing another lingering kiss to her lips before continuing.

“I want to be with you. I’ll take it all. I won’t let anyone be cruel to you, I will cherish you and this relationship, I’ll make you happy. I know we’ll have some growing pains and that it won’t necessarily be easy because of everyone else, but being with you? Being around you, feeling happy? It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Y/N hated herself for it, but she felt the burn behind her eyes. To hear someone talk so passionately, to put themselves in a position at home that could cause him personal issues because he liked her so much, he felt so intensely for her? It had shook her to the core. It felt like no one else had ever cared about her this much. She could feel it, feel his affection in the way he kissed her. “Me too.” She peeped. “It’s- It’s so easy for me to be myself around you. I know it was weird at first because of how we met but it fell into such a rhythm so quickly a-and I like myself around you, H. I do. I think that’s what we’re supposed to feel in relationships. Right?” She sniffled, cursing under her breath as a tear escaped. “Sorry. I just feel a lot right now and I’m really happy.” A watery laugh made him smile, thumbing the salty tear away from her cheek.

“Don’t apologize to me for feeling.” It was a gentle scold. As much as tears from her would break his heart, he wanted her reactions unfiltered. There was a greed he couldn’t control when it came to information about Y/N. “I want to hear and see everything you feel. You underestimate just how curious I’ve been about how this pretty little brain works.” His damp finger tapped the tip of her nose, making her giggle again. “It is how you’re supposed to feel, I think. At least, it’s how I feel with you, too. It’s the best, isn’t it?” His arms pulled her back to his chest, smiling to himself as he felt her rub her face into his neck and play with his hair, warm breaths brushing his collarbone as she nodded in response.

“It is.” Her words were soft against him, pressing a series of gentle kisses to the side of his throat and working her way up to his jaw. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Every day, it’s something new.” Her teeth grazed the hinge of his jaw, biting down delicately before pulling back to give him a grin. “I never want to stop learning with you.”

“I’ll make sure you never have to, sweetheart.” Lips brushed hers, stealing her breath. “We don’t have to tell everyone we’re together when we’re home, but… we can use this trip, see how good it feels. Work on it when we get back.” meaning they’d have to tell Lia. Something neither of them would look forward to, but it was going to be pushed back on this trip. “Just want to take this time to get to know you, to see bits of you that you’ve hidden away. Cruel little thing.” He clicked his tongue, letting his fingers brush her sides to make her squeal. She was a tiny bit ticklish there.

“I’ll let you know anything you want- but first lesson? Do not tickle me unless you want me to accidentally knee you in the balls.” She huffed. “I happen to quite like them, so don’t do that.”

“Noted, darling. Noted.”

[bettyfrommars]

Heyy, I have a little optional request for the nightmare factory. Eddie could be located in an abandoned theme park or an abandoned place half submerged in water & loves how much this location freaks you out in the best way…

nightmareGuide!eddie x reader

another installment of The Nightmare Factory

masterlist

This is a collection of blurbs and short fics about Eddie falling for you, but only being able to communicate through your nightmares. 2.3k

This suggestion really inspired me, and I don't think it's exactly what you had in mind, but I will be using more abandoned themes throughout this series. This is a comfort write for me that I post as soon as I'm finished, so I'm sure there are plenty of errors.

18+ONLY, nightmares, terror, abandoned places

------

When you showed up to the theme park, you were the only one there. Strange also because you didn’t remember how you got to that location, and as you looked around you wondered if maybe you were at the wrong place.

Perhaps you were supposed to go to a different fairgrounds or theme park because this one looked like it was abandoned.  It was dark out, and there didn’t seem to be a single star in the sky.  The moon was bright, though, and it loomed comically big, as if it were somehow much closer to earth.  You were standing in the empty parking lot in front of the ticket booth and rolling metal arm entrances, which were all covered in graffiti; the pavement littered in shattered glass from the broken windows.  Ahead you could see the looming rides spread out over the vast park, each of them overgrown with moss and vines, rusted and frozen in time like a place where laughter goes to die.

Questions echoed somewhere in the back of your head as to why you were there, but all the same—your feet kept moving  

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw a black mass with multiple spider legs crawling up the ferris wheel—but when you turned with a gasp, it was gone.

“You lost?” A deep voice called to you from between the fence and the ticket booth. You saw the plume of smoke first, and then someone stepped out.

It was a man, possibly in his twenties, with long, curly dark hair past his shoulders and bangs that covered his eyebrows.  He was wearing dark jeans with holes in the knees, white shoes, and some type of denim vest covered in patches over a leather jacket.  When he took a drag of his smoke, you noticed the chunky silver rings on his fingers.

Eddie wanted to contain his excitement, but it was hard to be normal about this.

He finally found a way for you to see him—-to really see him.  To talk to him.  You could even touch him, if you wanted to.

In dreams, there are people we travel with once in a while that are simply known as Guides.  Sometimes they pass knowledge on, sometimes they are there as a reflection of your needs, and sometimes—they are just there to hang out with you.

Usually, to be a Guide you had to be employed with the Nightmare Factory for a long time; it was the equivalent of slacking off for a few years before retirement.  But, Eddie had wormed his way into the Abandoned Spaces Simulation wing of the factory by flirting ruthlessly with Jean, the older woman who worked the front desk.  

And now, there you were—looking right at him.

“I think I came to the wrong place,” you said.  It never occurred to you to ask him who he was or where he came from—there was an instant familiarity.  You even wondered if he was the reason you came to the amusement park to begin with.

“Come with me,” he inclined his head, extending the crook of his elbow for you to take.  “I have something I want to show you.”

In a blink, you were deep inside the park, surrounded by the long-forgotten rides and a place along the fence where there were once games to win prizes like pop the balloon and bullseye.  A roller coaster loomed menacingly in the distance like a big, green, sleeping monster while a vendor that advertised cotton candy had what looked like mold growing all over bags of the sweet treat and bullet holes through the sign.  

Eddie guided you to the ferris wheel, and for some reason, now it looked brand new—as shiny as the day it was first erected.  

“Take a ride with me?” Eddie asked, enjoying the expression of awe on your face.

A gust of wind blew his hair back and you wrapped your arms around yourself, horrified to realize you were still wearing your pajamas.

“Oh shit,” you whispered, meeting his amused gaze with terror.  “I forgot to change my clothes before I came here.”

“It happens,” he shrugged.  

He took your hand to help you up into the metal bucket, and then he settled in next to you and pulled the safety bar down.  Your hips were touching and he opened his knees a bit wider so that your legs were touching too.  He arched forward to adjust his jacket, and when he sat back, he turned his head to ask if you were comfortable, and you had this overwhelming urge to kiss him.

Eddie felt it too.  He noticed the way your gaze fell to his lips, the way you swallowed hard and then sought his eyes with a childlike curiosity.

“Do I know you?” You asked. “We’ve been here before, haven’t we?”

“Not here,” Eddie rocket the squeaky bucket as the ride started at a crawl. “But yeah, we’ve met before.”

Who was operating the machine? How was it suddenly in working condition?  You didn’t even think to wonder. When their seat finally made it to the top, it stopped and swayed there. Eddie lifted his arms up for a mock yawn and a stretch, and then one of his arms came down around your shoulders.

You heard the music first, and then the playful screaming and the buzz of conversation.

“Look down,” Eddie told you.

Below, the park was completely functional again.  There were no more weeds or mold growing on everything, and a sea of people made their way around to the various rides and games, enjoying the festivities.  There were bright carnival lights and people cheering and the smell of buttered popcorn.

Eddie was watching your face; basking in the way your eyes lit up.

“We should get a funnel cake after this,” you told him, forgetting that the place was ever abandoned. “With powdered sugar and strawberries.”  You put your hand on his leg so that you could lean further over to see the rest of the scene.  There were stars in the dark blue sky again, and they twinkled like jewels.

“Hey,” he brought his arm down from around your shoulders and took your hand to interlace his fingers with yours and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.  You were warm and soft and he didn’t want this to end; he could feel desperation tightening in the back of his throat.  “Can I ask you something?”

You met his gaze, searching for your answer.  “Sure?”

He looked down, rubbing his thumb along yours.  “Do you think you could try to…remember me? After you wake up, I mean.”

Your face offered the genuine confusion that you felt.  “Wake up? You mean, this is a dream?” Your attention returned to the swarm of people down below.  “Why does it feel so real?”

“I’m real,” he whispered. 

You turned to face him, to return the affection in his rich, umber eyes, and he squeezed your hand.

“Fuck it,” he breathed, deciding to shoot his shot.  “Listen, this is going to sound crazy, okay? But I work for a place called the Nightmare Factory and I was dispatched to scare you a few months ago, but I just…I don’t know…I really like you.”

As his mouth moved, his face began to distort; his eyes and nose vanished, and then they came back misplaced like a deranged Mr. Potatohead.  You watched it in awe, having trouble registering what he was saying.

“I mean, I’m not sure how this could work,” Eddie continued.  “Because we exist in different realms, but there are dreams that last for days, and I’m going to find one for us, so we can get to know each other better. If you want that?”

You nodded, even though his voice was garbled and there was an eyeball where his mouth should be.  You blinked a few times, and then his face finally went back to normal.

“I’d like to spend a few days with you,” you heard the words come out of your mouth and felt the response come from your heart, even though you didn’t think you had heard a word he’d said.  As you slept there was another very important part of you that stayed awake—and it yearned for this boy you were with.

Eddie coughed out a laugh, relieved, and then tightened his lips around a long exhale.  “Damn, that’s a relief.”

The lights all around the park began to dim, but you didn’t notice or mind, because Eddie brought his hand up to cup your jaw and ran his thumb a few times over your cheek.  The screams you heard coming from down below were different now—more blood curdling—but Eddie was pulling you close to press his forehead against yours.  

“I want to be your favorite nightmare,” he confessed softly.

“Are you supposed to be scary?” You asked, innocently, rubbing the tip of your nose on his. “Because you’re not very good at it.”

The bucket you were in began to swing aggressively as something made the ride jostle.  

“Shit,” Eddie hissed.  “There’s always something. But wait—don’t look!”

Before his words could register, you did, indeed, look down to find that what had once been a sea of regular people, had morphed into a horde of zombies.

Snarling, hungry, ragged zombies with bulging eyes and skin hanging off their bones.  

They were crawling their way up the ferris wheel to get to you.

You screamed and crushed in closer to Eddie. He wrapped his arms around you and put his lips against your ear so you could feel the sensation of his hot breath.  “They won’t hurt you, I promise. You trust me?”

A few of them were half way up, screeching and moaning as others joined the ascent.  You were thinking maybe you should crawl down the other side and run into the woods.  The last thing you wanted was to be mauled to death by the walking dead.

“Do you have a knife, or something we can stab them in the head with?”

Eddie chuckled at your exuberance to kill his co-workers.  “Baby, it’s okay, I promise. They’re just trying to scare you, they won’t hurt you.  Hey—” he took your face in his hands as the metal basket made a cracking sound at the hinges like it was about to break.

“Oh god oh god oh god—”

And then he pressed his lips to yours, softly, but with enough pressure that your eyes fluttered and you forgot to be worried.

The big wheel you were on started to move forward, chugging and jerking along at a labored pace.

Eddie pulled back to see you.  “Remember me? Please? Remember my face.”

All you could do was nod a few times.

The zombies were sliding off and falling to the ground as the contraption rotated on its axis, but the next problem was that you were about to be deposited right into the arms of the waiting horde; jagged teeth snapping at the air, eager to tear you limb from limb.  

“I promise I’ll try,” you told him, bracing yourself as you were lowered into the outstretched hands of your demise.

When the bucket was about to ground level, two of the zombies lunged at you from the side, and just as their fingernails clawed at your clothing and you screamed bloody murder, a wide, black hole with blue edges opened up in the atmosphere and you fell through, screaming.

You fell back to your bed.

Your eyes flew open as you gasped, feeling your arm and neck for bite marks.

“What the hell was that?” You said aloud to the dark room.

It was so vivid, so real.

There was a boy in the dream that you desperately did not want to forget, and a voice inside told you to write down what you remembered of him.  Even as you searched around in the drawer of your nightstand, the details of the boy you kissed were slipping away and turning to mist.  

Writing frantically in the dark, you recalled that he had brown eyes and he said he wanted to be your favorite nightmare.

But what did that even mean?

The abandoned theme park and the zombies—-those details were very clear.  But him…him…HIM.  Why couldn’t you keep him in your mind?

Why couldn’t you keep him?

When the ferris wheel came to a stop, Eddie pushed the metal bar up with a grunt.

“Thanks for nothing, you guys,” he told the group of flesh-eating zombies that were all gathered casually around him, mingling with clueless expressions on their faces.

“Sorry Munson,” Val—the one with a broken neck that made her head sit sideways and a missing eyeball—said with a helpless shrug.  “Kevin said we had to.”

“Fuck Kevin,” Eddie jumped from the platform to the ground, his wallet chain clapping against his thigh. “I suppose he wants to talk to me?”

They all nodded in unison.

“Are you coming to the potlatch this weekend?” Norman—the one with a skeletal face that looked like his skin had been burned off with acid and a bloody hole in his stomach—-asked with his wide, lipless mouth.  

“Maybe,” Eddie answered, shouldering his way through the rest as they mumbled their greetings. “If I have time before band practice.”

Marv, the Zombie with maggots in his rotten cheek, clapped Eddie on the back a few times.  “Kevin is on the warpath today, but don’t let him get you down, kid.  You do good work.”  

Eddie walked a bit and then stopped and turned around when he realized none of them were beside him.  “You guys coming?”

“Nah,” Val said.  “We’ve gotta wait around here for the next one. Our shift isn’t over for another hour.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being cute, innocent and a bit ditzy, and dating the Lost Boys.

Multiple imagines under the cut.

David

Sometimes, he really doesn’t know why he likes you. Out of all of the boys, he’s the one that’s least likely to put up with any stupid questions. And you’re full of a lot of those questions. It’s not your fault, you don’t have much experience in the world. Your helicopter parents made sure of that, but sometimes - it was like you never watched a movie that was on past nine o’clock at night, or picked up a book that didn’t have illustrations inside of it.

So he took on the community service job of teaching you about the world. And how to survive if he ever decides to let you go. He hasn’t made up his mind yet. Sometimes, you can be real entertaining though.

“I’m really good at surviving,” You insisted, in that earnest puppy-dog way that you often did. He was going to show you how to scam the vendors for food, how to get it for free because unlike what you thought - food didn’t just appear in the fridge magically. You had to actually go to get it. Food equals survival, that was lesson number one. “I’m literally alive right now.”

There were chuckles from the rest of the guys, but they stopped when David glared at them. His lungs needed no air but he took a deep breath regardless, just to keep himself from putting his hand around your neck and giving it a required squeeze.

“Because you’ve always had someone take care of you,” David said, slowly. “We’re not your daddies, little girl. If you want to be one of us, there’s some things you have to do all by yourself.”

You pouted, lip-glossed lips plump against your skin. Oh, that look usually made him give in, if only to get it off of your face because it was an annoyance. “Are you sure you can’t take care of me, David? I can learn to cook and clean and you only have to do the rest.”

The thought of you near an oven - for some reason, he could only picture you making sweet things like cakes and brownies. Sweet like you. Nothing that would give them any sort of sustenance.

“That does mean killing the spider nests,” He said, knowing that would make you freeze and stop fighting back. Oh, you did pause at that, falling quiet in a way that you rarely ever did. Killing something, even spiders, was something you had trouble doing. You knew what he and the boys were but actually doing it yourself was too difficult.

“Okay, I’ll learn,” You said, pulling out a small notebook and pen from your bag in order to take notes.

Dwayne

You were talking his ear off tonight. It wasn’t his favorite thing in the world - he was known as the strong and silent type for a reason, but he understood that this introduction to his lifestyle came with a lot of those questions. Why had he let you, the girl that he had known for a couple of weeks from the boardwalk, into the secret of him and his boys being vampires? He wasn’t quite sure. There was something about you though. Something that he liked.

“So you sleep upside down like bats, but you can also crawl on walls like spiders?” You questioned.

He was wondering where the spiders were coming into this. He hadn’t heard that comparison but he nodded. It wasn’t a crawl, more of a jump and a hold, but he felt like you might not understand that either.

Somehow, you had gotten through your whole life without hearing about vampires. Not many people believed in the real thing, but they were everywhere in media. Books, movies, comics. But you were ignorant of it all. Innocent of everything that was scary in this world. Of everything different. When he had told you that he was a vampire, you had asked which country that was, if it was like being Canadian, or if it was some new sort of zodiac sign that they were coming up with these days.

“So.... are you like a spider in other ways?” You asked, sitting upon his lap, running your fingers through his long and pretty hair. “Are you more scared of humans than we are of you?”

“Definitely not,” Dwayne said, quickly. Scared? Never. Not Dwayne. He might not be as foolish as say, Paul and Marco, but that didn’t mean that he was scared. “Humans are terrified of us. As they should be.”

“So I should be scared of you?”

“No,” He said, shaking his head. He took your hands out of your hair and held them, fingers intertwined. “You’ll never have to be scared of me. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

Paul

For the second time that night, Paul felt one of your arms unwrap from his waist to point at something that you saw. Santa Carla was apparently full of wonders tonight, and you couldn’t stop pointing them out to him. “Look, I can see the roller coaster from here!” You said, your finger directed right at the lights of the top of the coaster.

“Hey,” Paul said, turning his head over his shoulder. “What did I tell you about pointing at things?”

“Oopsie,” You laughed. “I forgot about the seatbelt rule.”

The seatbelt rule, as he called it, was that you had to have your arms around him at all times. You were far too used to the inside of a car where you weren’t at the risk of just falling out. That wasn’t true on a motorbike. You were to keep yourself grounded on him, acting as his sort of seatbelt so that his weight could be yours. Paul didn’t relax or go back to his easy going grin until your arms were back around him, and your head was settled onto the back of his leather jacket.

You were the only one to garner any sort of worry  out of him like this. Even Laddie knew better, even he didn’t get himself into these kinds of situations. Sometimes it felt like the boy didn’t even have as much innocence as you did. But neither was he as cute, which was one of the big reasons why Paul kept you around. The idea of you falling off and hurting yourself made that carefree smile slide right off of his face.

“Thatta girl,” He said. “Hold on tight, we’re going for a ride.”

And with that, he cranked up the power, and brought on the speed, swerving through the bikes of the other boys, hair flying behind him and around you, focused only on the warmth of you body against his.

Marko

Marko enjoyed spoiling you. Or rather, he liked the idea of making you feel spoiled. He’d take you to all the fancy clothing stores that were in Santa Carla, the ones that were open after sundown, and he’d watch as you tried on all manner of outfits. Marko’s gonna take care of you baby, he’d claim, leaning back all cool, adjusting the collar on his infamous jacket.

But these ‘shopping’ sessions would always end up with him asking you to wait by the bike, while he set something on fire and would run out with all of the things that you liked, not paying for a thing. And you had not the slightest clue or suspicion. You were too innocent to even imagine that he would steal hundreds of dollars of clothing just for you.

You came out of that dressing room now, wearing a fluffy fur jacket. It wasn’t that which caught him so off guard. It was the fact that you had managed to find something that was so - pink. SO pink.

“Oh my god,” You said, thinking his reaction was totally about something else. “It’s fake fur, I promise. I’d never wear real!”

Marko’s eyes went from wide to squinted as he started to crack up. Of course it was fake. No animal save for flamingos were that pink and last he checked, they didn’t have any goddamn fur. He really started to laugh, getting to his feet and approaching you.

“Baby,” He drawled, chewing on a toothpick. “I drink blood every night. I’m not worried about you wearing any real fur.”

Your nose scrunched cutely as you remembered that. It wasn’t something you liked being brought up. The blood. The stains in his clothing that you had to get out. He was the one who needed these shopping trips more than you did.

“And that’s why I’m staying vegetarian. Cleaner clothes,” You said, making question marks appear above his head. He opened his mouth to ask what the heck you were thinking about but then shrugged it off. Sometimes it was better not to know.

“Alright, alright, you should get it. Though I don’t know why you’re gonna need the only fur coat in all of Santa Carla.”

“Faux fur,” You corrected, stepping back inside of the dressing room.

[lolasimms]

how do you think abbu would react to being invited to lilas tea party?

Tea parties and mockery

Summary: Abby has a tea party with Lila and Levi, and it ends with her getting taunted by her 4 year old daughter. Reader is away on a work trip.

“Momma, are you going to make us some tea?" Lila comes in the room wearing one of your coats. She says it makes her look classy. The black fabric is hanging to the floor like a dress, but the 4 year old doesn't seem to care.

You were away on a work trip, meaning Abby was at home with the babies for the weekend. She’d left the kids with her dad in the morning and then dropped you off at the airport. After lots of hugs and kisses she’d left you at the front and then made her way back to her dads to get the kids. Levi was taking your absence well but Lila on the other hand was fuming, since you’d promised her a tea party earlier in the week. So here she was, getting the tea party in order for her grumpy daughter and agreeable son.

"Yes, give me a minute, honey." She makes her way into the bathroom, where a newly potty trained Levi is done. He stands up and claps, once he spots his mother. "Good job honey, now let's wash that stinky behind." She calls out, pulling the toddler off the potty.

"Eww, put on your pants Levi," Lila says as she watches her half-naked brother get cleaned up.

Abby finishes cleaning Levi and then proceeds to carry both kids down the stairs to get a start on the tea. It was an expensive lilac tea that Lila had insisted Abby buy for her since it was the plant she was named after. If she was being honest, Abby thought the tea tasted like the smell of air freshener, but she’d do anything Lila wanted. Even if it meant spending $30 at an organic tea shop.

Lila plays with Levi in the living room while Abby prepares the tea. She was told by the vendor at the store that lilac was good for relaxing and digestion. She only hoped that was true, so she could calm the two gremlins down, enough to get them to sleep at-least. She throws the overpriced tea bag into the pot and then pours in the boiled water, she doesn’t add any sugar though. She always tells Lila that real adults don't put sweeteners or sugar in their tea. It's a lie, but she’s not willing to deal with the aftermath of a 4 and 1 year old on a sugar rush.

"Alright kiddos, tea is ready."

"Yaa! Levi the tea is ready.” Lila shouts, attempting to lift up her brother but fails miserably, immediately she sets him back down. Levi loves every minute of it, just looking up in excitement at his big sister. "Okay, momma, you have to carry us." Abby looks at the hot teapot she’s holding and then back to her two kids.

"I can only carry Levi, cause I'm holding your teapot." She explains to Lila.

"Hmmpph." She pouts and crosses her arms across her chest. Abby knows she doesn't stand a chance. She either does what Lila wants, or she'll have a full-blown tantrum.

"Fine, hop on, mommas back." She squats down so Lila can hop on, and she does so happily.

Abby then scoops up Levi with the arm that is not holding the teapot. And by some miracle she manages to get them both upstairs with no falls or third degree burns. If you had been home to witness this, Abby Anderson would have been a dead woman.

Lila serves Abby and Levi the tea. As they’re all sat around a fancy tea table and matching chairs that her grandpa Jerry had gotten her for her birthday. Abby’s bulky figure cant fit in the chair, or else she’d break it. So instead she opts to sit on the floor. Lila’s teapots are white with purple embellishments coated on them, alone with matching cups.

"Momma, don't forget to hold out your pinky."

"Oh yes, baby, I apologise." She points her pinky outward as she takes a sip from the cup.

Levi is quiet as he patiently waits for Lila’s instructions, to tell him what to do. He is so enamored by her, and Abby loves the close knit bond the two of them already have.

"Okay, so momma how was your day?"

"It was nice."

"What did you do?"

"I dropped mommy off to the airport and then spent the day with you two.”

“Is mommy your girlfriend?”

“She’s my wife, and how do you know what that is?”

“Do you and mommy kiss?” Abby’s eyes go wide and she immediately turns red.

Lila starts to jump around the room, hysterically laughing and Levi runs after her laughing as well, copying his sister's actions.

"Momma, kisses mommy" Lila begins to chant, over and over again. Trying to get under Abby’s skin.

“Alright we’re never having another tea party again.” Abby playfully yells over the chanting.

"Momma kisses mommy!!” Lila continues running around her room and screaming. Levi doing the same, and Abby is just perched on the floor, smiling in amazement that she’d be stuck with these two gremlins for the rest of her life. She loved it.

—

abby

can you please come home now???

y/n

what’s wrong love, the babies okay?

abby

your daughter made fun of me because I kiss you

y/n

you poor thing, is our 4 year old giving you a hard time?

abby

yeah :/

y/n

want me to ground her when I get back?

abby

would you actually?

y/n

if she’s bullying my wife then I’ve gotta teach her a lesson :)