#thankful that this page went up a bit early: I really should go to bed early tonight

[lizasweetling]

This is the fandom where multiple hats shall be worn, and because of the silly tease Vi said back in 2009, this is poly coding. Amazing

[imtrashraccoon]

Whew! It's over...don't mind me but I'll probably be taking a few days off writing again. Thank you so much for coming along on this journey with me! I learned so much and had so much fun! It's definitely given me so many ideas for future projects...

There will probably be an announcement post coming soon... (ﾟ⁠οﾟ⁠人⁠)⁠)

@owl-bones

First Day & Previous Day.

Bad Sansuary: Free Space - Snuggle

Word Count: 3,301

Feat. Everyone!

You were relaxing in your room with a book you'd borrowed from the library after dinner. This high fantasy series Nightmare recommended was seriously good and once you'd started, it was incredibly hard to put down. Well, unless someone interrupted you that is...

There was a playful knock at your door, pulling you out of the story and back to reality. You knew exactly who had chosen to bother you and a part of you wanted to just pretend you had gone to bed early so he'd leave you alone. But...that wouldn't be very nice and you could always read later on before you did actually go to sleep.

With a sigh, you slipped a book mark made from laminating the pressed flowers Axe had given you between the pages and hauled yourself off the comfortable couch to go answer the door. The knocking grew more insistent until you finally threw it open and fixed Killer with your most exaggerated grumpy face.

"What's so important that you would drag me from the realm of Middle Earth just to see you?" you grumbled.

Killer shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and smirked. "hm? oh i was just bored out of my mind, angel face~"

You sighed and ran your hand down your face. "So, you want me to help you?"

"nope."

"What? Then...why did you come see me?" Now you were really confused and you stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to break and claim he was just messing with you.

"i wanna have a movie night and almost everyone else has already agreed. so...?" He wiggled his bonebrows in a playful way until you finally relented.

"Alright, I guess that sounds like it could be fun."

No sooner had you agreed did Killer take your hand and nearly drag you into the common area. You protested from the suddenness, but he only laughed and barely slowed down at all. It seemed you'd have to revisit Middle Earth another time.

"she said yes!" he announced to the other three skeletons.

Axe and Dust seemed to have been trying to figure out which movie to watch, but by the looks of things, they hadn't been able to come to a decision. Nightmare was casually lounging on one of the couches watching the two of them. All three looked up at the news and Axe smiled at you.

"guess i could whip up some snacks. do ya wanna help, lil' chip?" he asked.

You shrugged and glanced over at the tv to see what they had narrowed the choices down to. "Sure, but what movie were we going to watch anyways?"

Dust, Axe, and Killer glanced at each other before saying different titles at the same time, none of which you'd ever heard of before. They then proceeded to start arguing over which was the better movie.

Nightmare sighed and shot you a look that seemed to say "See what I deal with?" You gave him a sympathetic smile before clapping your hands to get the other's attention.

"Why don't we watch all of them and just turn this into a movie marathon night?" you suggested.

Thankfully, your idea seemed acceptable and they nodded in agreement. Even Nightmare seemed suitably impressed which made you quite happy to have solved the argument.

"guess we should start on those snacks then," Axe hummed and started for the kitchen.

"dusty and i could go pick up some pizzas and pop if you're fine with that?" Killer suggested and glanced at the aforementioned individual, who merely shrugged.

"sure, do what ya want," Axe rumbled, not even bothering to stop and look at them.

The two disappeared to presumably go get the food and you went to follow Axe into the kitchen, although not before glancing back at Nightmare. He gave you a bit of a disinterested look before getting up and leaving the common area.

You frowned and started to go after him to figure out if something was wrong, when Axe called out for you.

"ya comin' lil' chip?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there." You hesitated for a moment before hurrying to the kitchen. It seemed you'd have to check in on him later.

You helped make some buttered popcorn, cut up some fresh fruit, and arrange some cookies that Axe had made earlier on a plate. By the time you were done, the other two skeletons had returned with a couple of still hot pizzas and two bottles of pop. You didn't question where they'd likely pilfered them from and neither did Axe, as the answer would likely be either unpleasant or exactly what you suspected they'd done instead of paying like proper monsters.

Just as you were helping to arrange the food where it would be easily accessible, Nightmare reappeared with his arms and tentacles full of various cushions and blankets. While you were a little surprised, you were also glad to see that he was interested in participating in the fun afterall.

It didn't take long to make the floor by the tv extra comfy and get situated. Axe was content to lean against the couch where his large frame wouldn't be blocking anyone. Dust claimed a beanbag chair, which practically swallowed him up, and you were pretty sure he wasn't planning on moving anytime soon. Killer, being the absolute gremlin that he was, went about stealing as many pillows as he could to make a makeshift pillow nest for himself. At first, Nightmare chose the couch, but when you all but insisted that he should join everyone else, he relented and eventually chose to copy Axe, leaning against the couch instead.

Two problems quickly became apparent though. Problem one was that no one could agree on whose movie choice to watch first. Problem two was that you could tell each of the boys wanted you to sit with them.

You really didn't want what was supposed to be a fun evening devolving into a jealous fight. So before anyone could actually get upset, you decided to try and take charge.

"How about this... To keep things fair, I'll just swap places for each movie so that I can sit with all of you in turn," you suggested. Unfortunately, your attempt at a solution wasn't nearly as effective as you'd hoped.

"sooo...who gets to have the cutie to themselves first?" Killer asked. He had a dangerous look on his skull as he spoke and while his tone sounded light, even like he was almost teasing, you knew him well enough by now to know that he wasn't playing around.

"definitely not you," Dust growled and sat up a bit, his gloved hands digging into the bean bag.

Even Axe seemed to stiffen up and his good eye socket narrowed into a harsh glare at his loud-mouthed colleague. His clawed phalanges twitched slightly, as if aching to wringe a certain someone's neck or curl around the handle of the weapon of his namesake.

While Nightmare remained silent, you could tell by the way his tentacles were twitching restlessly, that he was at the very least mildly annoyed by this situation. His cyan eyelight flicked to you and the intensity of his gaze was almost enough to make you want to shrink into yourself. His expression held something else though; a look that you couldn't quite place but one that seemed to suggest he was scheming about something.

You swallowed and managed to tear your eyes away from his piercing gaze. Raising your voice again, you cried out, "No fighting! I have another idea...you should all play rock, paper, scissors to determine the order."

They glanced at each other but no one protested. After playing a few rounds, an order was established, minus Nightmare, who claimed he didn't care when his turn was. Killer won each time making him first, Axe was second, and Dust was third, much to his frustration. Nightmare was content to go last, which of course nobody protested over.

Killer was all too happy to welcome you into his nest. His arms fit snugly around your waist, teasingly close to your pelvis, although he otherwise kept his hands to himself and just continued spooning you during the first movie.

Speaking of, the movie was one of those corny horror movies. It was full of gratuitous violence with plenty of obviously fake gore. Still, you couldn't help but cringe whenever the monster attacked the very doomed side characters. Killer was quick to soothe your nerves with soft whispers of encouragement and occasionally making fun of the many cliches present in the film. Overall, the experience left a sort of thrill coursing through your veins and you were admittedly a little disappointed when the movie was over, a sentiment Killer seemed to mirror, although he attempted to hide it.

Axe had picked a tamer movie, although that wasn't saying much as there were more jump scares than the previous one that never failed to startle you. Still, Axe was also very good at comforting you and multiple times throughout the movie, you felt his eyelight watching your reactions just to make sure you were okay.

You ended up snuggled up against his left side with his hand around your back and resting on your left hand which was on your thigh. You wrapped your right arm around his broad back and laid your head against his ribcage, which inadvertently meant you could listen to the soothing hum of his magic that emanated from his soul.

At some point during the second movie, you glanced over at Nightmare and were a little surprised to find that he seemed a bit bored. It was odd because you had assumed he'd actually get some sort of satisfaction from witnessing how terrified the protagonists of the film were.

He sensed your gaze and glanced over, tilting his skull in a silent question.

"Are you okay?" you mouthed.

His eyelight flicked back to the screen and he shrugged. "It's manufactured fear... I can't gain any benefits from attempting to absorb it," he murmured. When he glanced back at you though, a subtle smirk formed across his skull and he went to say something but stopped himself when Axe took notice of the conversation.

You were momentarily fascinated that there was that much of a difference. Would it be any different if it was a live broadcast and the actors didn't know what was going to happen? You'd have to ask him about it sometime.

You glanced at Nightmare a few more times throughout the movie and occasionally caught him looking a little amused. The boys weren't easily spooked but the rare times one of them was seemed to coincide with those little moments. You figured he was the one who hadn't exactly wanted to have a movie night, however he'd seemingly decided to go along with it anyways. Probably under the guise of this being a group bonding activity like any good boss would host. The thought was actually kind of funny to you now that you knew them all a lot better.

Dust's movie of choice was definitely a thriller, and while you didn't mind the change, it made you feel really anxious, which you hated. It was about an old cop trying to solve a series of murders apparently perpetrated by the one criminal he had failed to bring to justice years prior. The plot was certainly intriguing at points and you could see why he had picked it.

You'd been right on the money earlier when you'd assumed he wasn't planning on budging from the comfortable beanbag for a long while. That was fine of course since he didn't really need to move in order to actually cuddle with you. His idea was for you to sit in his lap so you'd be as close as possible, which you'd expanded on and chosen to sit side saddle. It meant you could both hold each other and he'd get to watch your face, so he didn't protest at all. You wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders and he sort of mimicked the gesture, except he supported your back, leaving your other hand free to hold his other one.

By the time of the fourth movie, which was a classic monster movie about a mad scientist and his creation, you noticed something strange. Save for yourself and Nightmare, everyone else seemed to doze off, almost at the same time too.

Turning to the only possible perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "Did you...put them to sleep?" you hissed under your breath.

His grin seemed only to grow more smug and even without him saying anything, you knew your suspicions were correct.

"Indeed~" he purred. "It is said that good things come to those who wait. They had their fun, so now I get to have mine..."

Your heart skipped a beat at the deliciously dark tone of voice he'd used. It was at that moment that a flock of butterflies decided to assault your insides with their delicate wings. You'd managed to control yourself with the others but now that you were technically alone with him...well, you weren't sure if that was possible anymore.

He pressed his skull against your hair and growled low in his throat. "I had to watch them hold you so close all this time... Have some empathy, dear..."

A chill went down your spine from the possessive tone of his voice and your tongue felt heavy like it was made of lead. Even if you could complain, he probably wouldn't even listen to you.

Nightmare pulled you into his lap yet again, which seemed to be his preferred method of holding you for whatever reason. Maybe it was because he could cage you in with his arms and tentacles so you couldn't escape. Or maybe he just liked the feeling of having you so intimately close to him. You tried not to dwell on it, partially because you liked it too.

Neither of you said much of anything for a little while, being content to enjoy the closeness and intimacy of this rare moment in time.

He was the one to break the silence first. He seemed to grow restless the longer you went without saying anything and his tentacles twitched with pent up energy, leaving you wondering what was really on his mind today. Then his clawed phalanges hooked under your chin, gently turning it so he could make eye contact and ensure he had your full attention before he even attempted to say anything.

"My dear, I cannot see into what the future holds, but I believe with all my soul that you'll fit in here. You've won over each of my boys in your own way and they've come to care a great deal for you in return."

He paused to take a breath before continuing. "I'm not normally a very...romantic person... But, even I can admit that I care a lot for you. No matter what you think, you matter to us and you've made a difference in our lives...for the better. I hesitate to use the word 'love' as I don't, and maybe can't, exactly feel that...but you will always be safe under my care."

He drew closer to you, his touch growing more tender now, and his tendrils slowly undulating against your clothing. "I promise, dear..." he murmured, almost against your lips, before closing that final distance.

For a moment, you were frozen in place as your brain tried to process what all he'd said. You caught on quickly though and wrapped your arms around his cerebral vertebrae so he wouldn't pull away too soon. You felt him stiffen ever so slightly but he soon relaxed into your embrace and actually deepened the kiss further.

It was over much too soon. You had to separate to catch your breath, although he didn't seem winded in the slightest. There was a soft cyan glow colouring his otherwise dark cheekbones and you could also see a small spark of what you thought might be true happiness in his eyelight.

Neither of you said anything for the short remainder of the film and you snuggled up against him as close as you possibly could get. Your soul was practically leaping for joy in your chest at the implications of what he'd said. You'd been assured by the others, but now you had definitive proof that he really did like you afterall.

Whatever magic he'd used to put everyone else to sleep seemed to fade as the end credits began to roll. One by one, the boys stirred before waking up, although you could see they were still a bit drowsy from the effects of the spell.

"Nice of you all to join us," Nightmare remarked with a chuckle and lightly squeezed your body against himself one last time.

They could only seem to respond with a cacophony of various tired grumbles, which even you had to admit was a little amusing.

Dust was the first to move and his mismatched eyelights scanned the room before locking onto you. The intensity in his tired gaze was nearly breathtaking but you couldn't read what could possibly be going through his mind right now. He dragged himself to his feet and managed to shamble his way over to you like a dead man walking. He ended up collapsing half on top of you so that his skull was resting just above your knees.

As soon as Killer realized what he'd done, he dragged himself over to you as well, plopping himself down on your shins with his skull resting on one of his arms so he could still look up at you. Interestingly, the black ooze that always leaked from his eye sockets had slowed to a meer trickle now, possibly from sleeping?

You were slightly flustered by all this contact at once but there was still one skeleton missing. Glancing over at Axe, you saw that he seemed to be conflicted. His eyelight flicked from his two colleagues to you and back again, while his large hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

You couldn't exactly reach for him but you motioned with your chin to try and reassure him that you didn't mind if he wanted to join in. That little push was all he needed to scoot over and wrap both you and Nightmare in a big hug.

The aforementioned god let out a low growl of annoyance at basically being smothered and his claws pressed into your waist in a vain attempt to keep you to himself. Yet, he didn't shove any of them away, even though he was plenty strong enough to, as demonstrated when he used his tentacles to move some of the boys and yourself into more comfortable positions.

You couldn't move even if you wanted to and definitely wouldn't be able to for a while. Your eyes were finally starting to grow heavy, but still, you resisted the tempting allure of sleep to enjoy what had turned into a snuggle pile.

It was obvious that all four of them felt strongly about you and if the events leading up to the movie marathon were anything to go by, this wouldn't be the last time you'd need to intervene. Each of them were equally stubborn and also quite dangerous when provoked, which could quickly lead to hurt feelings or injuries.

You would have to either get good at breaking up future arguments or simply pick one of them and stick with your decision. Unfortunately, you didn't want to pick one over the others as you liked each of them equally. You'd have to give this matter a lot of thought.

You were confident you'd make the right choice though...

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [20] - Heliotrope

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Having too many drinks can lead to honesty.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of violence, slow burn.

Word Count: 4300

Series Masterlist

When you went to bed that night, right before falling asleep you decided that this whole feelings nonsense was probably like some sort of fever; you would sleep it off and it would simply go away.

Except that it didn’t.

So the next morning you just figured it would probably take a couple of days to go away, just like any flu. It surely was as annoying as the flu, but you were sure you were going to be able to think straight in a couple of days.

Any day now.

So you had thrown herself into any kind of distraction you could find, but seeing that you no longer had a garden you could work on, it wasn’t as easy. You were nearly restless, your hands itching for the garden but you managed to keep it under control, only helping Bess and your aunt with their plants instead of working on your own plants.

Desiring your husband whom you hadn’t consummated your marriage with was not something you could even get any advice on. The whole ton and everyone close to you thought you were deeply in love and thus, you liked spending time in bed together. You and Benedict were so good at pretending to be in love so it wasn’t as if you could just tell Josie without raising any questions.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed Benedict entering the library. You were seated on the comfortable sofa by the huge window, resting the book on your legs with a warm cup of herbal tea on the coffee table by your side, the sunlight falling over you, making you feel all warm. Your head shot up when Benedict cleared his throat and your heartbeat paced up as soon as your eyes fell on his handsome figure leaning sideways to one of the bookshelves.

“I was wondering where you were,” he said and you smiled at him, then tucked your legs underneath you to make room for him on the other side of the sofa.

“Charlotte is busy with her siblings and Josie had things to do so I left there early,” you said. “You were painting when I got back, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You never disturb me,” he said and motioned at the sofa. “May I?”

“Absolutely.”

He came to sit beside you, his pleasant scent tickling your nostrils and you ran your fingertip over the page of the book absentmindedly, looking at him.

“Did you finish the painting or take a break?”

“I took a break so that I could really absorb myself in self-doubt instead of trying to do that and paint at the same time,” he pointed out, making you let out a laugh.

“Ouch. One of those days?”

“Mm hm.”

“Do you want me to talk badly of your artistic idols? Because I can, very easily.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate it,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, I guess you know, with the party tonight…”

You frowned for a moment before snapping your fingers.

“Right, the party tonight!” you said. “I forgot about that.”

“Do you still want to go?”

“Of course,” you said. “I want to see that part of the city at night but do you want to go?”

Benedict nodded. “Yeah, absolutely.”

“We can just go some other time if you want?”

“No no,” he said. “It’s not that. It’s just— you know, everyone keeps asking me why I’m applying for the academy next year instead of this year.”

You bit inside your cheek. “But you don’t want to apply this year.”

“I don’t know if I should,” he said. “I feel like I need more practice.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You don’t owe anyone any explanation. It’s just not in your plans this year.”

“Well yes but Henry and all his friends are convinced that it makes no sense I wait for the next season when I can easily be accepted this season as well.”

You hummed. “Pin it on me.”

“Hm?”

“Tell them I’m—I’m the reason why you’re not applying this year,” you waved a hand in the air. “Marriage responsibilities, distraction, I take up all your time when you should be working on your art, your pick. Isn’t that what artists and writers do? Have bad spouses?”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“That’s what I read,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “No seriously, we’re married now so we can use each other as an excuse for everything.”

He pulled his brows together. “What did you use me as an excuse for?”

“The opportunity hasn’t risen yet but I’m sure it will eventually,” you pointed out. “And when it does, I will not hesitate.”

Benedict chuckled and heaved a sigh, leaning his head back to close his eyes.

“I could say I’m too taken by newlywed bliss to pay attention to my art actually,” he murmured, and the simple term made your heart skip a beat, your dream flashing before your eyes and you cleared your throat.

“There you go.”

He opened an eye to look at you. “So I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“You’re free to say no if you don’t want to, but after the season is over, we could go on a trip if you’d like.”

“I thought we were going to your home in the countryside after the season was over, until the next one.”

“Our home and yes,” he pointed at you, making you repress a smile. “But this was supposed to be our honeymoon right? And we didn’t even go anywhere, so let’s do that after the season. A belated honeymoon trip.”

Your heart beat sped up. “Benedict…”

“I use the term honeymoon loosely,” he added in a haste. “I don’t expect anything of course.”

But you did.

You expected something, and you wanted it to be soon.

“Just a friendly trip,” he said and you licked your lips.

“Where?”

“Where do you want?”

You let out a laugh. “I’ve only seen two cities in my life, here and where I was born. I don’t think I can give travel suggestions.”

“There must be somewhere you want to see.”

“It was never much of a possibility for me so I didn’t really think about it,” you confessed and lifted your head. “Wait, Rome has a bunch of art right?”

“That’s one way to put it, yes.”

“Can we go to Rome?”

“Because there’s a bunch of art?” he asked with a smile and you let out a noise of agreement.

“That and other things,” you said. “It could be fun.”

Benedict’s smile widened and he nodded his head.

“As my lady wishes.”

“Good,” you said, mirroring his smile. “Rome it is.”

                                           *

As far as you could tell, tonight was going to be rather chaotic.

Apparently one of Benedict’s friends had rented a whole house just for this party -an inn, you were told- and he had also closed down the entire street for it and moved the party there. Benedict had asked you to stay close to him as soon as the carriage stopped and considering you had never been on this side of the town, you had agreed. He helped you out of the carriage, and you fixed the silky skirts of your dress before turning your head to look at the crowd, your mouth opening slightly. Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, completely drunk already, the music coming from the house reaching outside.

“Wow.”

“Mm hm.”

“What about the officers?” you asked. “I mean this is something else right? The street?”

“Well, this part of the town is barely quiet at night,” Benedict said. “And if they’re paid off well, which I’m guessing they were…”

You let out a whistle and Benedict grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked and you waved a hand in the air.

“Go ahead.”

He put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, the memory flashing through your head like a lightning, making your heart beat faster. You shifted your weight and averted your eyes, then stood on your tiptoes to see through the crowd. Some of the guests had gathered up in the middle of the cheering crowd to play a game, a tugging war if you weren’t mistaken, and a chuckle escaped from you as one group pulled the other one hard, making them fall down to the ground, all of them still laughing and yelling.

“I was never good at that game,” you muttered to Benedict and he raised his brows.

“You played it?”

“I grew up in the countryside, Benedict,” you reminded him, still grinning. “I certainly didn’t spend my time learning how to play the piano and dance.”

“I heard Daphne say you can play the piano,” he teased you, exhaling the smoke upwards so that you wouldn’t breathe it in. “And we do have a music room—”

“Do not dare,” you pointed at him, making him chuckle.

“I would be the only one to hear it.”

“Not a chance,” you said, a shiver running through you as the cold wind blew over your skin. Benedict noticed it immediately, shrugging off his jacket to drop it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you said, your cheeks burning and he smiled at you.

“Of course,” he said. “Want to go inside? It’s probably warmer there.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I also want that drink from the last time.”

A playful glimmer started playing in his blue eyes and he flicked at the cigarette lightly with his thumb so that the ash would fall.

“Lovesick honeymoon couple?”

“Lovesick honeymoon couple,” you said with a giggle and he put the cigarette between his lips, then threw his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer. You inhaled his pleasant scent as discreetly as you could, feeling like your whole face was on fire and you reached out to entwine your fingers with his, then you both started walking to the building, a couple of people greeting you by the door.

The music was even louder inside but it did nothing to drown out the chatter and laughter completely. A footman came to take Benedict’s jacket off of you and Benedict grabbed two glasses from the tray another footman was carrying, and handed one to you.

“There you go,” he said and you clinked it with his, then took a big sip, letting the liquid burn down your throat.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow’s dinner?” you asked and he chuckled.

“Should I be?”

“Nah, I mean…” you trailed off. “Josie does have her moments from time to time and she will certainly question you, but you should be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah because Bess likes you. Well, she likes everyone but Josie will go easy on you if Bess likes you.”

He pulled his brows together. “They’re that close?”

You tried to keep a straight face. “Uh huh. Very close.”

“I was beginning to think you two wouldn’t show up,” Sir Granville’s voice reached you and you looked over your shoulder to see him with a beautiful woman by his side.

“Sir Granville.”

He waved a hand in the air. “None of that, call me Henry,” he said. “This is Lucy, my wife. Lucy, this is Y/N, the infamous Venus Flytrap who captured our artist.”

You let out a laugh. “Quite the introduction.”

“I’m honored,” Lucy said, “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Benedict rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight for some reason.

“How’s the new painting going?” Henry asked Benedict who shrugged.

“There’s something missing, I can’t figure out what yet.”

Henry shook his head slightly. “Y/N, will you please tell this husband of yours that waiting for the next year to apply to Academy is nonsense?”

“Well that would be quite hypocritical of me,” you said airily before Benedict could open his mouth to argue. “Considering how hard I tried to convince him otherwise.”

Benedict’s eyes turned to you, a small smile curling his lips and Henry pulled his brows together.

“Why?”

You tipped your glass in Benedict’s direction slightly. “You didn’t tell them?”

“Tell us what?”

“Well he had mentioned the academy plan before we got engaged but when he proposed, I told him I would only marry him if he promised to spend some time with me on the first year of our marriage,” you said. “Granted I was bluffing, I was going to say yes anyway but it worked.”

Lucy let out a laugh. “Oh my goodness.”

“What, as if the academy wouldn’t take up all your time?” you asked Benedict who nodded fervently. “See? And this is my first season! I wish to enjoy it, the art world can wait until the next season.”

Henry chuckled. “Well I suppose love rules all of us.”

“Let them be,” Lucy said. “She has a point. I sometimes don’t see you for days when you are working on a piece, and they’re still on their honeymoon.”

“Well my only consolation is that artists in love give masterpieces,” Henry said dramatically and Benedict wrapped an arm around your waist to squeeze it, as if saying thank you, then nuzzled at your hair, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’re not the only one who wants to enjoy this season darling,” he said, making your eyes snap up at his and you giggled, resting a hand on his chest as you turned to Henry.

“So no, I’m not going to convince him otherwise,” you said with a smile and he held up his hands.

“I know a lost battle when I see one,” he said. “Fine. But make no mistake Ben, I will drag you out of your marriage bed next season if you don’t apply.”

“I will,” Benedict said with a chuckle as you downed your drink. “I happen to want to get into the Academy, remember?”

“Y/N, I’m just going to grab you before you become a part of this argument,” Lucy said and tugged you by the hand. “Let’s get drinks, you and I.”

Benedict looked between you. “Lucy…”

“I’m not going to steal her, don’t worry,” Lucy joked and linked her arm with yours, and you two walked away from them to the other side of the room where the drinks were being served.

“Have you ever been here before?” you asked Lucy, “This part of the town?”

“More than I could count,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I like parties, and this part of the town is quite scandalous, which means no one will bat an eye no matter what anyone does here or on the street.”

“Is that why the host shut down the whole street?”

Lucy shrugged slightly. “You’ll see once people get drunk enough,” she said and took a glass from the footman, then handed it to you. “You included.”

“Oh I’m not going to drink that much,” you said with a laugh and she tilted her head.

“This is a party,” she reminded you. “The whole point of being here is getting drunk and having fun.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “I’m just not good at letting go of control.”

“Aren’t you on your honeymoon? I’d have thought you were used to letting go of control by now.”

You choked on the drink you were sipping on and Lucy let out a laugh.

“Easy there.”

“Uh…” you cleared your throat. “Yeah but it’s—you know, that’s different.”

She shot you a mischievous look. “They expect women to be the paragon of propriety but as soon as you get married, you’re supposed to turn into an insatiable vixen behind closed doors with the snap of a finger,” she said. “Not to worry. It takes a bit of time even with the one you love, or so I’ve been told.”

“So you’ve been told?” you repeated and she winked at you.

“I was never that good at following rules, before or after marriage.”

You repressed a laugh. “You and I will get along well I think.”

“I’d hope so,” she said and her eyes stopped on someone over your shoulder, making you turn your head but as soon as you did, your heart dropped to your stomach.

Apparently Henry was pulled away by another friend of his because he was talking to another gentleman, and Benedict seemed to be in a deep conversation with a really pretty lady. The bitter taste burned your throat, making you down your drink in hopes of getting rid of it as the lady let out a laugh at something Benedict said, making him chuckle as well. She looked up at him through her lashes, admiration etched in her beautiful features and your jaw clenched as you narrowed your eyes.

Alright, you had to calm down.

There was no reason for you to feel bad. This wasn’t even a real marriage.

“He is quite popular but don’t let that make you jealous.” Lucy said and you turned to her, then let out a scoff.

“I’m not the type to get jealous,” you said, grabbing another drink from the tray before taking a big sip, shaking your head. “I’m not. I’m really not.”

“Say it one more time and I’ll believe you.”

“I’m—” you stopped yourself and took another sip, then stole a look at Benedict before forcing yourself to turn your glances to Lucy. “Uh, what’s that pretty lady’s name?”

“Lady Margery Sutton,” Lucy said. “She was widowed last year when her husband got lost in a ship accident after only three years of marriage.”

“Oh,” you said. “Sounds tragic.”

Lucy shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt she ever liked him much, certainly didn’t mourn him,” she said. “She had so many suitors but she picked Lord Sutton because he had an enormous wealth.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm,” Lucy said. “Even now she has quite a number of suitors. Breaks hearts here and there.”

“Does she now?”

“And she is a lover of art, or at least that’s what Henry claims.”

You bit down on your tongue, raising your brows. “How interesting.”

That sounded exactly like your plan before getting married, and it looked like Lady Sutton was enjoying widowhood well. If it were the start of the season, you would have actually admired her luck but now…

Now you could hardly focus on the conversation from an unreasonable anger burning through you.

“Are you alright?”

You downed your drink, then grabbed another glass again, clearing your throat.

“Yes of course,” you said. “Why would I not be alright?”

“Because you said you didn’t want to get drunk but you are drinking quite fast,” Lucy pointed out. “If this is about their conversation, I wouldn’t be worried. Benedict is completely in love with you, any idiot could see that.”

No, Benedict and you were just pretending and you had no idea why the mere presence of this Lady Sutton was enough to make you want to go over there and pull him into a kiss. You dug your fingernails into your palms and managed to give Lucy a small smile, then shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not worried,” you said calmly, and Lucy grinned.

“Good,” she said and linked her arm with yours. “Now come with me, I have so many people to introduce you to.”

                                                 *

Alcohol had a way of relaxing you and making you all giggly even though you had been quite tense at the beginning of the night. The sunrise was merely an hour away when you decided to leave the party and unlike you, Benedict had made sure to stay sober throughout the night so that he could take you home safe and sound.

Now to think of it, he had done the same during the last party as well.

Your stomach was doing flips, no doubt the consequence of drinking too much, and you took a deep breath as the carriage stopped in front of your house, by the stone road. Benedict helped you out of the carriage and you looked around, then gasped.

“Benedict, the garden!”

He pulled his brows together. “Hm?”

“Look at the garden! Look how pretty!”

“That’s our garden dearest,” he said with a chuckle. “You see it every day.”

“No but it’s so pretty!” you said and darted to get to the garden, Benedict catching up with you quite easily to press a hand over your waist to stabilize you when you stumbled.

“Easy,” he said, smiling. “Let’s not run around while you’re drunk, hm?”

“I had like…” you tried to count in your head, narrowing your eyes. “Only a couple glasses.”

“I counted eight.”

“You counted wrong,” you said with your nose up in the air and he nodded, biting back a smile.

“Mm hm, of course.”

You looked up at him, admiring how handsome he was under the moonlight before that warmth spread through your lower stomach and you exhaled through your nose, clenching your teeth.

“Unbelievable.”

He frowned. “Hm?”

You motioned at him. “You must do something about this.”

“About what?”

“Your face!” you exclaimed. “And the—the rest of you! Do something!”

“Y/N, what—?”

“Ugh!” you stomped on your foot and wiggled out of his grip to walk away from him to get closer to one of the flower beds and sat down on the ground, your skirts fanning around you. Benedict approached you, then sat beside you.

“Why exactly are you angry at me all of a sudden?”

You pouted your lips, shrugging your shoulders.

“Why do you look so handsome all the time?” the question came out of your lips as an accusation. “What—what’s the need for that?”

He stared at you as if he wasn’t sure how to answer that.

“Uh...?”

“There’s absolutely no need for that,” you cut him off before he could say anything else and he pursed his lips together, trying to keep a straight face.

“Right. Yeah, you’re right.”

“So, you know,” you motioned at him. “Make it stop, alright?”

“I’ll try?”

“Good,” you said. “Much obliged.”

He nodded slowly, resting his fist over his mouth to hide a smile and you turned to look at the flower bed, then grabbed at his arm.

“Do you know what these are?”

“Not at all,” his voice was soft. “What are they?”

“Chrysanthemums!” you said. “They need to be given enough time and space to bloom and there are so many requirements, like you cannot keep them in too hot or too cold climates, but especially too cold. They die otherwise.”

“Really?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “And you can also eat them—well, make tea with them. It’s quite lovely, good for headaches and such.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I did,” you said, shooting him a proud smile and reached out to touch one of the flowers. “I miss it a lot.”

“Miss what?”

“Gardening,” you murmured, “It’s quite difficult not to. I didn’t even step a foot in the greenhouse ever since I moved here.”

“Why don’t you…?” he trailed off and stole a look at the flowers before turning to you. “Why don’t you do it then?”

“Because I will start to like it.”

“Good?”

“No it’s not,” you shook your head. “Because then it would be sad when you decided to take it away from me.”

He blinked a couple of times. “What?”

You reached out to pull at a small yellow leaf, hooking your fingernail between the leaf and the stem until you nipped it and withdrew your hand to look down at it.

“Y/N I would…I would never,” he said, making you look up from the leaf.

“Hm?”

“I would never take anything away from you,” he rasped out, his eyes locked in yours and you bit inside your cheek, ripping a piece of grass off the ground.

“Maybe not at this second,” you murmured, wrapping the piece of grass around your pointer finger and he shook his head.

“Not ever. I just—” he paused for a moment. “I just want you to be happy. Is that so hard to believe?”

You shrugged your shoulders, still playing with the grass.

“Um…” you trailed off. “Sometimes.”

“Why?”

You shrugged again.

“I don’t know,” you admitted and then raised your glances to look up at him. “But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t use to believe it at all. But it’s sometimes now.”

A gentle smile curled his lips. “Is that a good sign?”

“It’s a sign I think,” you muttered as you laid on your back to fix your gaze on the glimmering stars. “I don’t know if it’s good or bad yet.”

Benedict’s smile widened and he nodded.

“I’ll take it,” he said, still keeping his eyes on you while you pointed at the sky, closing an eye so that you could see better through the blurriness which was yet another result of you having drunk too much.

“Benedict?”

“Yes my love?”

You were way too distracted to even notice the term of endearment slipping out even if you two were alone now.

“Look, it’s Andromeda!” you said, still pointing at the sky and he looked up, then turned to you.

“You remember that?”

You pulled your brows together, following the stars with your finger.

“I always pay attention to the things you say,” you admitted, dropping your hand to hide your yawn. “Even when you don’t think I do.”

A soft light appeared in his gaze and you heaved a sigh, closing your eyes.

“I’ll just sleep for five minutes here and then we can go back inside,” you murmured, your voice already drowsy and you heard Benedict standing up, then felt yourself being lifted up into his arms.

Even if you wanted to say you could walk, you were too sleepy and his arms were way too comfortable so you buried your face into his hard chest, enjoying his pleasant scent while he carried you inside, a soft sigh leaving your lips.

Then, sleep pulled you into its cozy warmth.

Chapter 21

[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) Part 4

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part Next Part ->

Warnings:Billy continues to be an terrible husband, domestic violence (one mention of the reader being slapped)

*not proof-read, sorry..

Word Count:2,434

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

“Billy murders me in my sleep because I’m having an affair with my doctor” pie. Smash tart blackberries and sun-sweet raspberries into a rich dark chocolate crust.

“I can’t have an affair with my doctor because it’s wrong and I don’t want my husband to kill me” pie. Velvety smooth vanilla custard with sliced banana…

“Y/n!” you’re brought out of your thoughts by Joyce’s cheery voice coming up beside you. “You’re here early, I haven’t even opened up the diner yet.”

“I’m sorry, what?” your mind is still a little hazy at this time of the morning.

“I do hope you didn’t sleep out here last night. A woman in your position needs to sleep in a warm bed at night.” 

“I went home last night, Joyce, don’t you worry about that.” you reassure her. 

“No doubt to that lousy, good-for-nothing husband of yours.” she sighs with a slight shake of her head.

“Billy was passed out in front of the tv by the time I got home last night, so I guess I got lucky there.” you give a soft half-hearted laugh with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“C’mon, I’ll open up and I’ll let you get started.”

You’re already on your feet, drifting around the diner floor, taking orders, serving tables and filling up empty coffee mugs as you go.

As you’re working around, your eyes catch a young mother with her daughter sitting in the booth together. The little girl is quietly sipping from her juice box and scribbling her crayons in a colouring book and her mother is sitting with her, a crayon in her hand, helping her to finish her picture.

You hear Nancy’s voice call out to you, and so you make your way behind the counter where she and Robin are smiling at you.

“We bought you a little present.” Nancy says, sliding a small gift wrapped up in striped wrapping paper and tied up with a pink ribbon.

“It’s just something small that we figured you were going to need.” Robin adds on, leaning in to eagerly watch you unwrap your present.

You pull at the paper to reveal a hard-cover book. 

The First-time Mom’s Hand-book.

“Oh look at that, thank you so much girls.” you smile, leafing through the pages of the book quickly.

“We know you weren’t initially all too thrilled about this whole baby thing, but we thought you could at least read up and be prepared for when she actually does arrive, you know?” Nancy playfully nudges your shoulder.

“We don’t know it’s a she yet, Nance.” you dismiss softly.

“Well you better read it, because this baby is coming whether you like it or not.” Robin nods.

“What if I'm not cut out for being a mother, I could really fuck up this baby’s life and I haven’t even brought them into the world yet.” you slump against the counter 

“You’re not even feeling a little bit maternal towards that baby?” Nancy asks.

“I don’t do anything harmful to this baby, I don’t drink, I watch what I eat, but no, I just don’t feel that immediate rush of affection when I think of this baby.” you sigh. “Maybe being with Billy all these years just sucked all the love and affection right out of me.”

There’s a beat of silence between the three of you for a moment.

“Well I suppose I should be getting back to work.” Nancy says, hopping up from her seat. “Looks like the breakfast rush is starting up.” and with that she rushes off to start serving customers.

“Thanks for the book, Nance, I really do appreciate it.” you call out to her.

Robin places a kind hand on your shoulder before she leaves, leaning in to talk to you.

“There’s all these cool things to do in this book, like here..” she says pointing to a section in the back of the book. “There’s a scrapbook section where you can put silly pictures of you with your pregnant belly as it develops, and there’s also a page where you can write your first letter to your baby.” she smiles.

“Oh, okay, thanks Rob.” you say softly, offering her a kind smile, before she leaves you alone at the counter.

Your eyes stare down at the blank page where your baby’s first letter is supposed to be. You slip the book into the front pocket of your apron, not giving it too much though as you begin to start another day of work. Waltzing around the diner’s sticky floors, chasing after customer’s orders and re-filling endless cups of coffee.

Back home, whilst Billy is at work, you hastily pack yourself a small suitcase, filling it with only enough clothes to see you finally, once and for all get away from your husband.

Sitting down on the bench by the bus stop, suitcase at your feet, your mind strays, thinking about what kind of first letter you should write to your baby. 

Dear baby, If I was writing you a letter in all honesty it would probably be a letter of apology. I know that everyone deserves a mom who would want a nice baby such as yourself. The kind of mom who is a good wife and an upstanding member of society, but it would be wrong of me to say that that’s me. I worry that I'm doing the right thing by bringing you into this world when it’s already so messed up. I’m sorry, baby, that I don’t seem like the typical excited mom-to-be, but I don’t know what I can offer you. What if I leave Billy but don’t win that pie contest next week and don’t win the money? What happens to us then? All my life I’ve been so scared that all I want to do is run away, and that sure as hell isn’t something that a baby like you deserves. I wish I could feel all the feeling that’s expected of a new mother, to feel that giddy excitement that you’re with me right now, to feel that rush of reassurance that I’ll be a good mother, even if my life isn’t in such a great place. Anyway, I’m writing this letter to you, and in some small way I suppose I’m writing this letter to myself too.

Love, Mom.

The crushing of gravel under car tires brings you out of your thoughts and you cast your eyes up to see where the noise is coming from and your stomach drops at the sight of your husband’s dark Camaro rolling to a stop in front of you. His heavy boots step out onto the ground as he slams the door behind him and strides towards you.

Billy crouches down, bearing his hands on his knees as he fixes you with a menacing glare.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere, Billy.” you mumble softly. “I-I mean I had to go to work..”

“Then why the fuck have you got a suitcase, huh?”

Because I’ve finally had enough of your shit, Billy. Because I’m sick of the way you treat me. Because I deserve better than this, I deserve better than you.

The eerie silence that hangs in the air. You don’t have an answer for him. At least not an answer that he was going to be pleased to hear. 

The silence from you is more than enough of an answer for him as he slaps his hand across your face, stinging your skin with the force of his blow. Bubbling tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Shut up and get in the car.” he spits as he shoves you towards the passenger’s side door, and throws your suitcase in the back seat. 

The tension in the car as Billy drives the pair of you home is icy. Uncomfortably cold and unwelcoming.

“A pie baking contest, huh?” he scoffs, keeping his eyes on the road, never daring to look your way.

You snivel, wiping the tear tracks on your cheek with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“Yeah, I was just going to go up there and win and surprise you with the prize money when I came home.”

“Nah, nah, I know you’re lying to me, sweetheart.” his voice grumbles. “You ain’t ever been to any pie contest before.” His voice is unmistakably hostile, his one hand lifting off the steering wheel to shove against your face, forcefully pushing you against the window. “YOU’RE FUCKING LYING TO ME!” he screams.

“BILLY STOP IT! I’M PREGNANT!” you shout.

And it’s at your admission that his foot is slamming on the brake and the tires screeching to a halt in the middle of the road.

“So when were you going to tell me?” he rasps out.

pulling out the chair from under the dining table, you take your seat next to him, sitting down with a soft huff.

“I was going to tell you after I won the contest.”

“Well you can kiss that dumb pie contest goodbye, ‘cause you ain’t going anywhere now, darling” Billy scoffs. “‘Cause here’s the thing, what if you decide that you love this baby more than you love me. It happens all the time, they have a baby, then the man is out of the picture.” 

“You’re jealous of the baby?” you murmur quietly.

“I ain’t jealous, it’s not in my nature to be jealous, I’m just talking about my feelings. I know how you women get. I just don’t know if I want that happening to me.” 

“So what do you want me to say, Billy?”

“Well I’d tell you to get rid of it, but somehow I don’t see that happening, so how about you promise me that you won’t end up loving this baby more than you love me. That you make a real effort to be a good little wife to me. I come first every time, not some damn baby.”

There’s that uncomfortable silence again, slowly closing in on you, making you feel the loneliest you have ever felt.  

“So, do you think you can promise me that? That this baby won’t come between us?” 

No.

“I promise.” 

“Well how ‘bout that, huh? Looks like I knocked you up real good, I gotta say I thought you were getting chubbier, I guess now we know why. I bet it happened that night got you drunk” he laughs to himself.

You push yourself away from the table quickly, needing to get away from him 

“Where are you rushing off too?”

“I gotta throw up.”

Steve strolls into the doctor’s room where you’re already sitting up on the reclining bed, a medical gown draped over your frame.

“Y/n.” he smiles warmly.

“Dr. Harrington.” you smile back.

“I haven’t had any calls from you, you haven’t been having any problems?”

With my husband? Oh, there are far too many problems to mention. 

“With the baby? No, no problems at all, doctor.”

“Good, good. So today I’m going to be doing your ultrasound, so we can check out your baby’s development and see how things are progressing. Does that sound okay to you?”

You nod, immediately put at ease by his gentle manner.

“Okay if you could just lie back for me please and hold your gown out of the way.”

You settle yourself back, lying flat against the bed as you roll the hem of your medical gown up to reveal the small bump of your belly.

“Okay, so this isn’t going to hurt at all, it’s just going to be a little bit cold is all.” he tells you, squirting a small amount of gel on your stomach, and gently pressing the ultrasound wand against your skin and moving it around.

“Okay…ah! There we are. There’s your baby.”

You turn your head towards the monitor to see the black and white image on the screen.

“Wonderful! Everything looks perfectly normal and healthy, and do you see that little flickering in the middle of the screen?” he says, pointing his finger on the monitor. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

Something about seeing the gentle thump of the tiny life growing inside you suddenly made this all feel real. Before now it was all too easy to pretend that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t happening, that it was just another thing that you could stash away deep in the back of your mind to where you didn’t have to think about it. But there it was, your baby, as clear as day, perfectly healthy.

“It certainly doesn’t look much like a baby yet.” you say with a soft shake of your head.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t, but things will start to take shape a lot quicker than you expect, I promise.” he nods. “Okay, everything looks good to me, if you want to pull your gown back down.” he says, handing you some tissues to wipe the gel from your skin.

“Thank you, Doctor.” you nod, as you pull yourself together.

“Y/n, I want to let you know that I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I know it’s very unprofessional of me, and god knows I’d probably be fired from my job if anyone ever found out about what we were doing but I like you, and I just think…”

You stop him in his tracks, pulling him forward by his white coat and pressing your lips against his. He leans into the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you moan quietly. His hands cradle your head, fingers weaving amongst your hair, desperately trying to pull you closer.

“Don’t do that again.” he says between panted breaths, pulling away from your lips.

“Do what? Kiss you?”

“No, not that, definitely not that. Don’t go away for a full month without calling, Y/n.”

“What was I supposed to do, Steve, I’ve got a crazy husband who’s watching my every move.” you sigh, holding your head in your hands. “I wanted to call you, believe me, I did. It’s just harder for me when I’ve got Billy breathing down my neck every time I step out the door.”

“I just know how I feel about you, I like you a lot, Y/n and I wanna see you, I know this whole thing is crazy, all I’m asking is that you give me a chance.” He says with a soft smile and a sparkle in those beautiful hazel-brown eyes. "I don't care that you're married, I can see you're unhappy, and I just think I could be the one to make you happy"

@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

[bravestworriers]

writer interview game <3

thank u to @pricemarshfield who tagged me in this :) i'm so glad we're friends and u let me bombard you with random writing snippets as i go along!

i will be tagging the og writing wife @atxvanhalen (circa 2012), ao3 famous bffl @riverdanceeee, fantasy-pilled love of my life @multilevelmargoting, the coolest film reviewer in the biz @kaafka, and my begrudgingly kind editor @takeavacation2010 . & anyone else who'd like to write a little something about themselves!

read below if you dare!!!

When did you start writing?

probably as long ago as i could figure out how to & started winning little competitions for it! i love telling stories, usually through a visual medium (storyboarding, screenwriting etc), but it's all writing at the end of the day, no matter how put it down on a page.

i recently located my half finished writing from elementary school (so i must have started from the age of at least 8), all in the email drafts of my oldest email account, and it's always a treat to see how i used to think about romance, about drama and all that good stuff! (i was wrong and sad, but adorably so!)

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

i love big sci-fi adventures, heists, life or death sort of stuff, just as long as it's grounded in something tangible and human. i also just love media where you can tell that the artists are having a lot of fun with the medium and they way they're piecing everything together. like i adore the films kneecap (dir. rich peppiatt) and american animals (dir. bart layton) and dick johnson is dead (dir. kirsten johnson), even though i could never see myself writing a true story/biopic feature like that -- they're just exploring what a feature film compiling those ideas looks like today, fighting against the rules of what people think it should be, and just going for it. other than that, i watch a lot of BAD movies and BAD tv because it's fascinating to pull it apart and figure out where things went wrong -- like looking under the hood of a fucked up car.

mostly, i think i read and watch a lot of the types of things i like to write, lots of introspective dramedies and coming of age stories. but usually no tragedy, it makes me too sad.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

in school i got compared a LOT to tim burton (i made a lot of fantasy focused films that existed in the real world), which honestly feels like a little bit of an insult now. if i was compared to henry sellick, now that would be a compliment.

i'd love to emulate documentarian and cinematographer kirsten johnson! (it's not going to happen. but i love her.)

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

i really can write anywhere, as long as it's in complete isolation listening to the same piece of music over and over until whatever i'm doing is complete (that's the autism for ya!). usually when i'm working, i'm lying down in bed in the evening, or weirdly standing with my computer on a counter in the kitchen early in the morning as i'm getting ready for my day. i'm a slow writer and can't get anything done without a deadline (work related) or a special interest (fic related), and usually things sputter aimlessly until someone explicitly asks for it (this is why my ao3 never has anything finished. sorry guys! #shamelssplug!)

(right now the piece of music i'm listening to is norman's walk by jon brion. and yes, if you're curious, my repetition of single pieces of music always messes up my spotify wrapped.)

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

the only theme i can think of is one of meeting someone that you're meant to meet, exactly at the point in your life that you are meant to meet them. life is chance upon chance upon chance, i've found, and i love capturing that life-changing feeling as it balances temporarily on a pinpoint. i especially love when it ends in tragedy too.

agnes varda's cleo from five to seven is a favourite of this trope. a bit of severance by ming le also has this concept wrapped up in it. and billy wilder's the apartment.

i don't think it surprises me though, i think it's always something i'm looking for in life. to eventually look back and see the path i made, and to know even if i didn't at the time, that it was the right one because of the people i had the pleasure of meeting, even briefly.

i also love 90s wedding movies and the strict structure they're written with, it's fun to replicate and poke fun of in my own work.

What is your reason for writing?

i started writing because i would get really overwhelmed with my feelings over whatever was going on in my life, and need to parse through them somehow. they say it's always best to start with a nugget of something, and build off of it. it's how i've coped with everything from romantic kerfuffles, to immigration, and racism, to parents splitting up, death, and everything else life has to offer. explicitly in my writing, or not.

maybe i've just been exceptionally lucky, but every time i've shared something that felt so isolating and devastating i did not know how to deal with it, i've always met someone after the fact who looked me in the eyes and told me they felt exactly the same thing.

it makes me love being a person on this planet.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

i don't know! if you like it, please let me know! if you don't, please don't tell me i'll think about it for the next twelve years of my life and also cry.

no, but in all seriousness, i just want to make people feel like some part of them is understood, whatever that looks like. yell into the void with me, or yell back at me from the void, whatever works best for you.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

pacing and emotional beats. i can always feel when a scene is done, or when i want it to be done. i love writing the emotional stuff, i don't really care about the stuff that it takes to get there, other than it makes those beats happen.

writing my dialogue is like pulling teeth. writing my inner monologue gets convoluted. writing, i'm a slower than the oldest, most decrepit turtle. writing my descriptions can get too long in screenplay format. literally nothing but pacing out a story and hitting those emotional beats.

How do you feel about your own writing?

it makes me sick to my stomach. after i've obsessed over something for months and it's done, i can't look at it. i'm always terrified that it's so much worse than i want it to be, or that i'm envisioning it is. (i've had this exact experience at a festival with one of my films before and it haunts me forever.) i need other people to tell me it's written okay before i start to feel normal about it. i want to get over this sensation eventually, but it doesn't seem like it's happening anytime soon.

that being said, i don't think i could make myself stop writing and telling stories if i wanted to. my cross to bear, i suppose.

that's all. thanks for this, sarah, and if anyone read this, i hope you enjoyed it :^)

[glorious-poetato]

I have a request.Imagine waking up on Christmas morning with Tommy wearing matching pajamas and just spending the day together cooking, opening presents, watching holiday movies stuff like that.I don’t know I think thats adorable

[Christmas in July]

Warnings: none I'm aware of. Let me know if I forgot something

Ship: tommyinnit x reader

Summary: Tommy surprised the reader with a christmas In july celebration

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

I open my eyes. My vision is still fuzzy adjusting to the light, but I hear music playing. Is that Christmas music, I think to myself. It's July. I mean, who would be playing Christmas music right now.

I then look to my side and see and empty space next to me. That's weird. I think to myself, Tommy is never up this early. Confused, I finally decided I should probably get out of bed.

My feet hit the cold ground, and I dragged myself to the living room. As I get closer, the music gets louder. That's when I walk into the living room and see a small tree in the corner presents scattered under and decorations covering our walls. I was distracted by everything around me that I jumped when I felt arms snake around my waist.

"Sorry love, I didn't mean to scare you," Tommy said to me. "It's okay....but what is all of this," I ask while gesturing to the Christmas explosion. "Well, I wanted to surprise you... I know how stressed you've been and I know how much you love Christmas....so I thought we could have a Christmas in july." He explains. You can't help but gleam at your boyfriend. He really went through all this trouble just for you. "Also, I like christmas cookies and was hoping you could make some with me," he tells me, hopeful. I look at him as if I am going to say no and worry flashes through his face, but then I respond, "Of course we're going to make christmas cookies."

He smiles widely at my responses, and I get caught up looking into his eyes. "What are you looking at, looser?" he says jokingly. I smugly respond, "The most amazing boyfriend in the world." He then looks around wildly and frantically says,"Georgenotfound is here!!! Where?" He continues looking around frantically, and I can't help but burst out laughing at his antics.

After we settled down a bit, we put on some classic christmas movies. I sat down on our sofa and snuggled up to Tommy.

I must've fallen back asleep watching the movie because the next thing I saw when I opened my eyes was the last scene of the movie. Tommy came waking into the living room with two cups of hot chocolate.

"How was your nap?," he asked me sweetly. I can't help but smile as he hands me a mug. I then respond, "Wonderful."

He sits down next to me and says, " I have a surprise for you." I look at him curiously."What kind of surprise?" I ask. I then think back to the last time he got me a surprise. I mean, if you want to say a pie being smashed into your face and posted on the internet for millions of people to see a surprise.

He then pulls out a small box that is wrapped under the tree and hands it to me. "I feel bad I didn't get you anything for our Christmas in July celebration." I tell him. He reassures me he didn't want anything besides a day of just me and him. He then hurries me to open the box.

When I see what's inside the box, I look at him shocked. I can't believe he did this. Like he's been sweet all day, and now he's doing this. I'm just sitting completely speechless as I feel tears form I'm my eye. "Tommy, I can't believe you would do this." I tell him while staring in his eyes.

I pick up the first object in the box, and it's a book. It's a scrapbook, to be precise. Opening the book, I see pages full of the memories we've made. After flipping through most of the book, I look in the box and grab the second object. It's a cheap plastic ring but when I saw it I immediately recognized it from our first date. It was the ring Tommy won and given to me.

After thanking him and crying some, he starts begging me to make cookies. Of course I say yes and we move to the kitchen. Me and him spend about an hour and a half making a complete mess of the kitchen and ourselves. In the end, though, we had so amazing Christmas themed cookies.

After enjoying cookies, I went to go clean up the counter while Tommy went to the bathroom to was the floor of his face. Once he came out, I went and did the same.

I then walked back into our living room, and Tommy had pushed all the furniture aside. He then flipped on so classic Christmas music and put a hand out to me, saying, "may I have this dance?" I giggle at his gesture and give him my hand. As we were dancing, I couldn't help but stare into his eyes. When his eyes met mine, it felt like i was in a movie. He then leaned in, giving me a simple kiss whispering, "I love you," as he pulled away. Me and him danced the night away and eventually fell asleep watching more Christmas movies.

Even though it's not technically Christmas, that might have been the best Christmas ever.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

HI, IM SO HAPPY TO BE WRITING AGAIN!!!! Okay so i know I kind of just disappeared randomly but I've been dealing with some stuff and haven't been motivated to write or do anything really but I'm back and I'm going to try and start posting more.

Also, I hope you aren't too mad the I took forever to write it and changed the idea a little. And sorry for any grammer and spelling mistakes as usual.

-poe <3

[angelofrainfrogs]

Into the Pit: Ch. 5

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: He should be in the Daycare. 

Gregory emerges from the ball pit to find not the bright, rainbow room he’s accustomed to, but a house with a huge backyard and a kiddie pool of plastic “water.” Calling for Gregory is a familiar voice—Michael. Only this time it’s not Charlie or Freddy by his side, but someone completely new. And why do they insist on calling him their son?

Gregory soon comes to realize this existence is vastly different from anything he remembers. Perhaps these last few weeks at the Pizzaplex have all been a dream…?

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Upstairs, Gregory was having a hard time coming to terms with some things.

In the journal kept beneath his bed, something he’d apparently started when he was 8, now going on 13, was a record of his days both good and bad. Gregory was seeing a therapist for his anxiety issues, but nothing ever mentioned the delusions he was having. In fact, as the pages went on, bad days were outnumbered by the good. He’d been here for years—taken from the foster system around 7 years of age, but knowing he was going to be adopted since 6. Some things just made sense, but there was a severe lacking mention of ghosts and virtual serial killers…

When the knocked came to his door, Gregory quickly shut the thick, ink-stained book and looked to Ditty, who scuttled around his desk and inquisitively picked things up to move them about.

��I gotta eat dinner, can you find more stuff while I’m gone?” he asked, unsure if the little guy was even listening before receiving the world’s smallest thumbs up from his new robot companion. “Yeah anything with my name on it—drawings, journals, whatever…”

He’d have to read these more intently later to jog his memory. Going to the door, Gregory turned the knob and threw it open. He was getting pretty peckish at this point. worrying does a number on one’s stomach.

“Doing alright—” he finally answered. “—just going through my journals.”

“Oh, great idea!” Michael praised, his smile more genuine now. “That’s always a good way to jog your memory.” He gestured for Gregory to take the lead towards the stairs. “I made dinner—sorry it’s not going to be as good as when Dad cooks, but I promise it’s edible.”

He chuckled at the self-depreciation, hoping Gregory would get a kick out of the joke, too. The kid looked a bit better than before—not nearly as outwardly stressed. Maybe he was already improving?

Michael could hope.

Following Gregory back down, they found Jeremy had set the table again and was waiting in his chair ready to dole out the sandwiches.

“The guest of honor has arrived!” Michael announced, smirking as he pulled out Gregory’s chair with a little bow. “Your seat, monsieur.”

The double-accent sounded ridiculous, which was exactly Michael’s intent. Anything to make Gregory remember how wonderfully fun this version of his family was.

And it worked; the kid was all smiles now. He just had to pretend like this morning didn’t nearly shock the life out of him. Now it was like a game, one where he had to piece together his life to this point. There was no danger here, Gregory reminded himself. Since being adopted, nothing bad had really even happened to him. Scooting in towards the table, Gregory plopped down into the seat that Michael pulled out for him.

“Oui, oui thank you monsieur.” Gregory played along, making Jeremy laugh as he tossed a few napkins towards his son.

Jeremy placed his plate down, carrying on the joke. “Your sandwich le fromage, monsieur! It’s tres manifique.”

Despite Michael’s normally burned cooking, the sandwiches didn’t look half bad in Jeremy’s opinion—though he’d rather jump off a bridge than refuse to eat his darling husband’s food because of some char. Gregory would giggle at this, watching as Jeremy pulled Michael’s seat out for him.

“Sorry that we had to leave the Pizzaplex early, guys. My nightmare was like… really intense and was inside the mall,” he half-explained.

“No need to apologize,” Michael replied as he took his seat. “We all get a little overwhelmed sometimes. Plus, that place is always insane on Saturdays...” He shared a look with Jeremy, letting Gregory eat a few bites of sandwich before speaking again.

“Hey, Greg—” Michael gave him a smile more curious than anything, though his eyes held deep-seated empathy. “—it’s totally okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now—the last thing we want to do is stress you out more—but… we’re here if you want to share any of your dreams. No matter how bad they are, we’ll listen.”

Gregory’s smile looked strained, though he figured by this point, if none of it was real… It couldn’t hurt to tell them.

“I… had a dream I was kind of like—living at the Pizzaplex? And then things went crazy! So much happened—Charlie was in the Puppet! Like, her ghost. Yours was in Freddy’s,” Gregory began to ramble. He set down his sandwich, choosing to look at the grilled cheese rather than his dads. It helped him get his thoughts in order.

“Pappy was Bonnie. Like—his mind was stuck inside Bonnie. Not quite a ghost, but not… Man, I don’t even know what he really was. But he was using dead kids to try and bring himself back to life? Apparently he’d been doing it for years. Then he injected me with this fizzy purple stuff—it’s supposed to make you immortal or something. He thought I was Evan. Oh—Liz and Evan were dead, and he was trying to bring them back, too. Then we trapped Pappy inside a video game and I smashed it with a hammer…”

Wow, Jeremy thought. Vivid AND concerning. He realized when Gregory picked his dinner up against to take more bites that he was done with the short retelling of his dreams.

“That’s… intense, little man. I’m sorry,” was all he could say, before his brow furrowed in thought. “Wait… Puppet? Like The Puppet? From the original diner way back when?”

Had Gregory ever even seen the Marionette? That old thing had been retired to Charlie and John’s house years ago, a powered down and prized toy that June inherited but rarely played with. When Gregory gave Jeremy a confused nod, his father sat back in his seat to fold his hands together in thought. He silently looked to Michael, wondering if he ever told their kid about the old, out of date security bot.

By this point Mike was leaning forward, hand covering his mouth where it rested on his palm. This dream was far more disturbing than he’d thought it’d be…

To think everyone was dead? And possessing animatronics, to boot? Plus William was apparently a murderer—

“How did you… did Charlie tell you about that?” Michael questioned, a hint of disbelief in his tone, eyes widening at the mention of Puppet. Surely within their whole extended family someone must’ve shown off the run-down bot… but it hadn’t been Michael. He blinked, sitting up and shaking his head.

“Er—you probably don’t remember, sorry. It’s just… I don’t remember ever showing you Puppet.” He gave a nervous laugh, sharing another side-eyed glance with Jeremy. “We thought it might freak you out too much. A lot of kids thought it was unnerving, so…” He gave a weak shrug.

What the hell was going on?

“A-Anyway—” Michael’s lips curved into a light smile. “—I was stuck in Freddy? Hmm… I guess there’s worse robots to be with. I hope we were all nice, at least…?” The faint smile slipped back into a grimace. “Besides Pappy, I suppose…”

“Of course you were nice; you and Charlie protected me! But, Henry—” Gregory placed the last two bites of crust down on the plate to explain. “—he made you guys robots that looked exactly like people! He called them androids. Because… Charlie died on her sixteenth birthday. He made some for her, and then when you died, Mike—er, Dad, he made one for you. Lizzie and Evan have them, too. Charlie helped you guys attach your souls to them; apparently she’s the only one who could move them around. Cas was dead, too…”

Gregory took a break, chewing and swallowing another bite of food.

“…Puppet loved Charlie a lot. She gave really good hugs,” he remembered, missing Mari now; this little girl he made up in her mind that was so excited to talk and tell you about her day… “I don’t know… Maybe June told me about her.” He wasn’t sure how hard he wanted to think about it. Gregory let his crust drop again to his plate as he thought about his apparent grandfather, trying to downplay how his mind painted him. “William wasn’t trying to hurt me—not really. He just wanted me to be alive. I mean, he wanted Evan, but he got really confused. He didn’t care who got hurt to make himself alive either… I mean, he obviously wouldn’t ever do that here.”

“No, of course not—he loves you and wouldn’t hurt anyone like that,” Jeremy reinforced. He didn’t look tense, but he grasped Michael’s hand beneath the table for support. Running his free hand through wavy blonde hair, Jeremy let out a small laugh. “What was I doing? I hope I wasn’t being a jerk to you.”

Gregory’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head. “No… Uh… You weren’t there. Mi—er, Dad didn't mention you either.”

Well… That was better than actively trying to hurt the kid, Jeremy supposed. Still he couldn't help but purse his lips in thought as to why he was just never even mentioned. Nothing at all to indicate he was a part of Gregory’s life?

“Weird…,” Jeremy murmured, lost in thought.

“God… I’m so sorry, Gregory,” Michael murmured, so quiet it was as though he was talking to himself. He returned the hand squeeze under the table, for some reason getting that pit-of-the-stomach feeling that all this was somehow his fault…

But that was just his mind overreacting. No one was responsible for Gregory’s horrible dreams—not even the boy himself.

“Maybe you’ve just been overstimulated lately,” he tried to reason. Applying logic to an illogical situation—it was all he could do until he had a medical opinion tomorrow. “I mean, we’ve been visiting the Pizzaplex a lot… I know it’s fun, but there’s so much stuff going on there. We might wanna cut back a little.”

“Yeah... Yeah that's probably it.” Jeremy agreed for now. Running his thumb along the outside of Michael's hand, he told Gregory: “I scheduled an appointment with Dr. Freeman just in case. Maybe she can help us figure out where to go from there. Until then—” Jeremy cleared his throat before stacking their plates on the table. “—how do you feel about some ice cream?”

Gregory's smile turned up again, now looking back to Jeremy with glee. “I feel pretty strongly about ice cream."

With a more relaxed posture, Jeremy took the plates and lifted Michael's hand to his mouth, placing two kisses on his knuckles. “Ice cream, hon?”

He didn't want to seem like he was ignoring or trying to bury the issues. But there was no sense dwelling on imagined, horrific scenarios if they made Gregory feel bad.

“Sounds great,” Michael readily agreed, eyes crinkling at the sweet gesture. There really wasn’t much use in focusing on something they couldn’t do anything about right now. Sitting back in his chair, Michael set his hands in his lap and tried to relax. Sweet confections always improved any situation, no matter how dire it might seem.

“Let’s see, I think we’ve got… chocolate, right?” Michael asked, tracking Jeremy as he put the plates in the sink and went to the freezer. “I can’t remember what else… cookie dough, maybe?”

"Which one—"

“Chocolate!” Gregory shouted answering Jeremy's question before he could even ask it. Then, Gregory corrected himself. “Wait! Chocolate and cookie dough?”

The smile on Jeremy's face brightened with a laugh. “Sure, kid; Mike?”

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Michael confirmed, jerking his thumb towards Gregory with a grin.

While Gregory stretched his legs, Michael idly watched Jeremy get the ice cream ready. His eyes were on his husband, but his mind wandered to possessed animatronics and purple liquid that made one immortal. Two questions kept popping up in his mind:

How did Gregory know about the Puppet? And why were his eyes now shining silver?

Luckily, before he could get too lost in his thoughts three hearty bowls of ice cream were set on the table. All were piled high with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles. Michael raised his brows at this.

“I didn’t even know we had sprinkles. Did you check the date on them, Jer?” His head tilted in consideration. “Wait… can sprinkles even go bad?”

The question of Gregory’s physical appearance scratched at Jeremy’s mind as well. Somehow, Gregory’s eyes reminded Jer of those old pictures of shell-shocked war veterans. He'd seen the before and after photos of a doe-eyed private that came back from battle with a wide and hollow stare. Gregory’s didn’t meet the same intensity as that, but their paleness was comparable.

A couple of scoops later, and he could pretend to forget about it for now. Michael raised an excellent question about the sprinkles, making Jeremy scratch at the short stubble on his chin.

“Sprinkles are only made of good stuff—they can’t go bad,” he fibbed, inching back towards the kitchen. Gregory raised his spoon impatiently for his mouth, only hesitating when Jeremy called: “But wait just a sec in case I’m wrong!”

There was a short beat. Then his relieved voice finally answered: “They’re good! Enjoy, guys!”

Gregory smiled towards the kitchen spouting a quick, “Thanks!” before stuffing his cheek full of the cold treat. When Gregory glanced up to Michael, they locked gazes. It was clear his Dad was staring at him. The question was exactly what he was looking at—though Gregory had his suspicions.  

Blinking to break the connection, Gregory swallowed a spoonful of ice cream and tilted his head. “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing; sorry,” Michael responded, quickly dropping his gaze to the steadily-melting bowl of ice cream.

He took a slow, thoughtful bite, wondering if he should even bother to ask. It seemed like every time they had a semblance of peace a new concern popped up in his mind. Had he always been such a worrywart? Deep down perhaps, especially as he got older… but Michael couldn’t ever remember being this much on edge.

“…Actually, I do have another question for you, Greg,” he said after a moment of silence save for the clinking of spoons against bowls. He was watching his son again, looking for any signs of physical discomfort. “You’re not having any, um… vision problems, are you? You seem alright, I just have to ask because—well.”

With a vague gesture of his spoon, Michael indicated the boy’s startling eyes. Surely he’d caught sight of them in the mirror today… and if not, Mike would feel really bad for pointing them out and adding yet another worry to Gregory’s list. 

He knew it was coming; it was only a matter of time before one of them mentioned it. The thought crossed his mind that Gregory, along with these false memories, looked different when he woke up this morning. It was starting to make him feel as if he was still missing the bigger picture. Gregory played with the lumps of cookie dough, mashing them further into heaps of ice cream before answering.

“I can see great,” he replied with a shrug. Not a lie by any means; he could see better than ever. But he knew that wasn’t what Mike was getting at. However, if there was one thing Gregory got very good at over the course of his dream life (so he thought, at least), it was fibbing. “Why?”

Jeremy bit the inside of his lip, unsure how he would breach this topic. To him, they almost looked like cataracts if he squinted. Tinted mirrors with no reflection, swallowing all the light instead of projecting it back—save for a strange, subtle glow from within. 

“Your eyes look a little different than they normally do, that’s all.” The way he mentioned it didn’t make Gregory feel odd about the way they looked, putting him at ease. Their son didn’t want to think about why he looked the way he did and just shrugged.

“Maybe it's just the light?” Gregory remarked, experimentally batting his eyes—feeling out whether they still worked properly with the added workload.

“Yeah… I'm sure that's it. Ignore me, kiddo—I’m just turning into a worrywart like Uncle Evan. How’s your ice cream?” Michael flashed him a grin. With this and the slushie, Greg was going to be wired… and then crash equally as hard. 

“Famtabstic—” Gregory praised with a mouthful. His tongue darted out to capture a sprinkle from his lip, feeling a little bad for not opening up about what happened in his dream sooner. So he would deflect this with a valid question of his own. Swallowing what was in his mouth, Gregory looked to his Dads and asked: “I have a question, though…”

Jeremy had already made a good dent in his bowl, but saved time to ask his son: “Hm? What’s up?”

Wiping away sticky sugar from the corner of his mouth, Gregory raised a brow. “Why is this cookie dough alright to eat, but regular cookie dough isn’t?”

Jeremy opened his mouth to answer, floundering when nothing actually came to mind. He was going to have to Google this later, but he postulated regardless, turning a suspicious eye to the sugary mounds in his dish. “Maybe it’s counterfeit cookie dough.” 

“Oh my god—don’t make it sound like we’re buying black market ice cream!” Michael exclaimed with a laugh, nudging Jeremy’s leg under the table. “It’s safe because the flour and eggs in the dough have been treated to get rid of bacteria and stuff that makes us sick; the homemade kind isn’t put through that process.”

As Michael lifted the final, oversized bite of chocolate sweet to his mouth, he could feel his family’s eyes on him. With the spoon hanging in the air, he lifted an eyebrow. “What? I was raised in a pizzeria chain whose specialty dessert was ice cream. I know waaaay more details about that stuff than I ever wanted to.”

With a shrug, he set the final bite in his mouth and let his spoon clatter onto his plate with a satisfied hum.

Jeremy should’ve expected Michael to know something like that. Both he and Gregory frequently learned a lot of random, usually pizza-related facts from him.

“I wish I knew that! Here I am, thinking we got fake cookie dough,” Jeremy chuckled, locking his ankle around Michael’s. “A lot smarter than my answer anyway…”

"Nah, they pour bleach on them instead,” Gregory said after inhaling his final bite, happy to spew obvious misinformation.

“No! What? They can’t do that. That should be illegal!” Jer snorted, unable to keep a straight face as Gregory nodded his head in the affirmative.

“Nope. It’s all bleach!” Feeling like he was in a much better mood, Gregory decided to take the bowls and spoons from Jeremy’s grasp, much to the man's surprise. “It’s cool;, I’ll go rinse them out.”

“Aww—thank you, sweetheart.” Jeremy was pleasantly touched by the gesture. As Gregory passed the threshold of the kitchen, Jer leaned his head against Michael’s shoulder and contentedly closing his eyes. “What a cool kid, right?” 

“The absolute coolest,” Michael confirmed. “I think that really cheered him up. He’s already acting more like himself. Could just be the sugar high, but hey—if that’s what it takes, I’ll add ice cream to his daily routine in a heartbeat.”

Jeremy laughed quietly at this. If that was the case, it might do Gregory some good if they got him a gym membership for Mazercise. Gregory was at that age where he was going to eat his weight in junk food; lord knows Jeremy and Mike were the same way. 

“Did you say daily ice cream?” Gregory caught, peeking around the corner with a sly smirk. 

“Ice cream maybe daily. Maybe…” Jeremy sat up now, leaning over to gently pinch Gregory’s cheek, then decided to mess with his hair when the kid playfully batted at his teasing hand.

Michael chuckled at the display, tagging in for Jeremy to continue mussing up Gregory’s hair when the other was successfully fought off. The boy was soon released from his fathers’ attack, trying his best to resituate his locks as Michael grinned at him.

“Well, now that we’re all energized and sugar-ified… what do you want to do, Gregory?” he asked, standing up and stretching his arms high to the sky. “Watch some TV, play some video games, go outside for some fresh air… the possibilities are endless.”

There was that normal cheerful demeanor finally breaking through again. The more Gregory felt like himself, the more Michael did, too.

On the defensive, Gregory had lightly swatted the hands away from his hair—no wonder his once poofy mane was flat, with everyone always messing with it. It was a losing battle, as Gregory did find having his hair being played with soothing. He had his family to thank for that discovery.

While he did have all the video games he could possibly play judging by the entertainment cabinet, clear glass stocked to the brim with cartridges, discs, and cases, he had something else in mind. Fresh air would do him good; being all cooped up might be one of the things hurting him rather than helping. Gregory felt like he'd been in hiding for two weeks because of his nightmare. He missed the sunlight...

“Can we go hang outside? It's such a nice day out,” he remarked. It might be a little hot, but it beat the slowly developing hermit qualities he'd notice growing in his mind.

“Outside it is, then!” Jeremy would agree. He loved the outdoors; one of these days he was going to take them all camping again. “What are we going to do when we get there?”

“Uh...” Gregory drew a blank. What do people do together outside?

Then, he thought on it. If they went back to the little make shift ball-pit, was there a chance of jogging his memory?

“We could play in the ball pit!” Gregory suggested.

“Oh yeah!” Michael mused, now leading the way to the back door. He’d almost forgotten about that thing. “Good idea—we spent all that time getting it set up, might as well get some use out of it!”

It’d be therapeutic for all of them, he thought—childish fun without worrying about beating high scores or completing missions. Just a kid and his dads swimming in a plastic pool and having the time of their lives spending time together as a family.

Soon enough Michael was throwing open the back door, releasing his family into the warm afternoon sunlight that lit up the rainbow plastic in a beacon of fun. Gregory ran to the edge of the porch, looking into the wide pit. It was a fun idea; probably less expensive to maintain than a pool, though Gregory didn't think that was why they did it. He probably wanted the convenience of a ball pit without having to go all the way to the Daycare.

It was then that he was picked up, Jeremy having snuck up behind to toss him gently in the pool. Gregory let out a yelp of surprise at this, and as he made his short flight through the air he waited for memories to come to him...

Touchdown! A small splash of plastic orbs rained back over in his parents’ direction. The above ground inflatable pool wobbled with the motions and Gregory moved to “swim” towards the edge.

In a sudden movement, Jeremy whipped around and hugged Michael. It seemed out of nowhere. When Michael finally hugged him back, Jeremy tightened his grip and used his weight to pull them both down together, all in one singular, unspoken motion of betrayal. The sight had Gregory covering his mouth, laughter rolling out of him now.

The memories might not come so easy, Gregory thought. This could take a lot longer than he previously expected. New ones didn't hurt though...

“Unbelievable!” Michael cried as he popped above the surface. “I trusted you, Jeremy Fitzgerald! Don’t run away from me—”

As Jeremy desperately tried to escape his husband’s wrath, Michael picked up a bright red ball and threw it with perfect accuracy. It bounced harmlessly off Jeremy’s back right between the shoulder blades, but the blonde made a show of going down like it’d completely taken him out. Michael laughed at his triumph, then suddenly whirled around and scooped another ball into his hand. With a wicked grin, he tossed it in the air and caught it while eying his son.

“Don’t think you’re getting away, either!” Michael proclaimed, tossing the ball towards Gregory. And with that, the game was on.

They had fallen in with a might splash, only for Jeremy to scramble away at the last second. He fell with a dramatic yell when the plastic ball collided with his spine, face first into the pit once more. He was simply too slow to flee from Michael's wrath. Gregory shrieked, attempting to dunk under the pit, but unfortunately being clocked in the side of the head with the lightweight sphere.

These transgressions wouldn’t stand. And so the family had an all-out war, throwing balls and wrestling in the backyard.

It was what life could be. To some, what it should be…

***

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[shiningwonderland]

Tokiya Ichinose (Repeat) Memorial

Resonating in the heart

Translator: Koto (Twitter: kotowari16)

Proofreader: Mimi (Twitter: _mimisaurora)

Editor: Pam (Twitter: skywyld), Terry (Twitter: turtlemudge)

No way.

To think that I would lose to Otoya….

I wasn't being careless….

I sang perfectly, and I certainly never would have imagined that I would lose to the guy.

That is why I am so frustrated.

Just what part of me makes me inferior to him...?

Take today for instance: the moment we finished the recording test, he went...

"Alrighty! Test’s over, time to go eat some delicious food together!"

And he's the type of guy to then really head directly to the dining hall with friends from class.

Wouldn't you normally listen to the teachers' evaluation after the test and then go to an empty classroom to practice what you missed instead?

It's what both I and my partner Nanami do, albeit her to a lesser degree.

Even so, for him to be so happy-go-lucky after finishing just one single test…

And on top of that, he still hadn't returned to the dorm until around nine PM...

"I'm back~! Haaa, that was great! The large public bath is fantastic. You should go there too, Tokiya. It ought to be empty at this hour."

"No, thank you."

Ah, so that's what happened.

That meant that while I was starting to think he wouldn't be returning, he was at the dorm's public bathhouse, soaking in hot waters without a care in the world.

"Ah! That's right! There's a task that's due tomorrow, but there's something I don't quite get. Do you mind explaining it to me, Tokiya?"

"No way! I have to get up early tomorrow, so I'm calling it a day..."

I stood up from my desk and headed towards my bed.

I didn't want to see Otoya's face at the moment. Even hearing his voice was annoying.

There are other things I have to focus on now.

That's what I had originally thought. But being in the same room with Otoya, I couldn't help but notice his behavior, and it bugged me to no end.

"...you know. Then, Natsuki..."

A few days after the recording test, Otoya kept pestering me regardless of how much I tried to ignore him.

"Can't you be a bit quieter? I have homework to do."

"Eh... aah, sorry..."

Come to think of it, I feel like he said the same thing last night.

He would immediately apologize, but the next day would just start going on and on again.

And just when you'd think he would be quiet, he would start roaring with laughter as he read some manga, or he'd play some games and tell me the results after.

"Aah, look, look at this! If you manage a 700-combo, you unlock this awesome effect! Waah, this is the first time I've seen this~ How awesome."

"Hmpf. Unbelievable."

I turned my back on Otoya.

"Hm? ... How mean. Let's play together, Tokiya. It's fun!"

He kept rambling on loudly behind my back.

"No thank you."

I flatly declined without turning around.

"Say, Tokiya, aren't you being kinda rude lately? You don't pay any attention to me at all and you don't even reply when I talk to you either."

There's no use talking to me in that sulky tone.

"I'm busy. Just how many times do I need to tell you?"

I turned a page of the book I was reading and continued to follow along the letters.

"But we're sharing a room now, y'know. Let's talk a bit more!"

"I don't have anything to talk to you about. It's a waste of time!"

"Tsk. What a bore."

I wondered if it was because I continued to give him the cold shoulder, or it was the effect of just not looking at him, but Otoya finally gave up and distanced himself from me.

Whew, now I can read my book in peace.

Then, the moment I was about to continue reading, I heard the sound of a guitar behind me.

"What...?"

A liberated singing voice caught hold of my heart and warmed my chest.

That voice was clear and genuine, free of any embellishments.

But what caught me most of all was the feeling that he enjoyed singing so much he couldn't help himself.

Though his singing technique is not quite there yet, he holds a captivating mysterious tone and one that does not let people go.

Before I could think about what I was doing, I had turned around and was watching Otoya sing.

“You fiiinally turned this way. Do you want to sing along?”

He smiled widely, and invited me over with a carefree smile.

"...I don't want to sing."

"Why? You turned around so you should at least have some interest, right?"

Just like Otoya said, I was drawn in by his singing.

However, this and that are two different matters.

"Interest? No, I was just annoyed by the noise you're making. If you'd like for us to sing together, please hold the neck of the guitar a bit higher. The way you're holding it now is far from professional."

"Ah, is that so…. Y'know, I taught myself how to play the guitar, so I might not be playing correctly. Gotta be careful."

"Tomorrow..."

I quietly murmured before I realized I had done so.

"Eh?"

"It seems that there is a guitar training session held for those in the composer course. They might have priority, but if the class isn't full, you might still be able to participate. Why don't you go have a look? I'm sure there's a flyer with all the details hung up in the staffroom."

I myself didn't quite understand why I said something like that. Was it just because I disliked listening to that poor guitar playing? Or was it because I felt like wanting to sing together with him…?

"Thank you! You're a nice guy after all, Tokiya. I'll get much better at playing the guitar, so let's sing together then!"

"Well, I wonder about that. That depends on you, doesn't it?"

I won't sing, you know.

Though that's what I wanted to say...

I'm still too soft, aren't I?

[bloogers-boogers]

Kyle Brofloski/Eric Cartman (SP fic) part 5

('In love with my hatred')

/What exactly are we?/

Kyle goes through old memories between his younger self and his 'buddy'.

Slight warning ⚠️ this is a very disturbing fluffed caramelized deranged fic, kinda, not really. Just watch yourself when you press 'read more'.

Author's note: I've been so— sleep deprived guys sorry I'd I've been lacking, I'm gonna be out for a couple of days so my chaps are either gonna be short, rushed or a little delayed than usual 😭

I also want to mention that I appreciate the support I'm receiving! @liabilit-e I'm still considering on posting it on AO3 but Idk if it's just me but everytime I try loading the page it gets all laggy and slow so it's kinda not something I'm thrilled about, but still, thanks for the support! 💓 @myst1calx I think I've bother you enough but I appreciate the offer! I'll try searching for solutions but if I don't, Ik where to go, tnks;)

~~~~~~

Kyle couldn't get a bit of sleep, tossing everything aside from his desk to his floor, books flying everywhere papers spreading across the room as he slammed the table with both his fist, externally wanting to not be heard but hoping internally someone could hear him, understand him.

Frustration streamed in his veins, glassy eyes that began to sting feeling a boiling sensation in his feet; that becomes too annoying to ignore needing to move them left, right, on top of the other, bottom again, move move move until you start feeling your legs numb themselves having to force moving them aswell, arching his upper back releasing unwanted stress, the tension on his neck worsening as his growing headache resurfaced.

It was like a damn fever everytime he found himself wide awake until four in the morning, drinking coffee to make himself not dose off. Now he finds himself so use to the routine his brain makes him stay awake until it's 'time for bed' even if he doesn't drink coffee and actually attempts to sleep early.

How can you procrastinate while trying to sleep? Doing shit your brain makes you think you should do just in case you forget tomorrow.

'Write that down, Kyle' 'why didn't I think about this before, I should write it now before it gets even more late!' 'If I do this now, I won't worry tomorrow' tomorrow, tomorrow, 'tomorrow' ironically being morning, and initially the new day.

Technically being 'tomorrow', technically tricking himself going in to some ongoing messy loop.

Contemplating himself in his reflection against his laptop, he couldn't help it. Work was stressful as it is, and now having Cartman up his ass with messages asking 'wym by 'boyfriend', jew?' He hated not knowing what to respond, in all honesty, why the fuck did he even say that? Why let Kenny's teasing get him so bad? It wasn't even as bad as Cartman's taunting.

And kissing Cartman infront of the whole school? Words spread like fire, his parents heard of it from Scotch's who heard from Marsh who had heard it from Jimbo who was told from Donovan! And so on so on!

This was getting outta hand, and he didn't know why he even let himself be put in a situation he wasn't even sure he could even say regretted of.

He grabbed his laptop slamming it shut as he went downstairs going in to the garage; grabbing a hammer and heading outside in the now snowing weather, the sun was about to rise now claiming for a new day to begin.

He threw his laptop hard in the ground beneath him 'thump', slamming with force the first hit with the hammer 'thwack!' 'thwack!' Shesst' 'thwack!' 'thwack!' Hit by hit getting more aggravated, taking all his frustrations, concerns and thoughts aways.

'Why did I commit to this!?'

'Why do I care so much of what others think!'

'Why do I feel like I'm gonna mess it up somehow!'

'Why commit to something you're not sure you'll end up finishing!'

'It was too much work, so much time consuming, so much of his soul, sweat and tears put in months, weeks, days of work and he knew damn well he'll still make the effort to continue doing it'

'Risking his health both physically and mentally for a dumb grading'

'Exposing himself being in 'love' with a fat psychotic fuck, either have his heart broken or be disappointed for any outcome awaiting for him'

'He wasn't sure he could even say he loved him, but fuck he couldn't deny his attraction'

'Even if things went south, he promise himself HE would be the one to break up with Cartman, never reverse! If it isn't him saying 'goodbye' than Cartman will sit his ass down and wait!'

'If someone's deserving of another heart break it's Eric Cartman!'

He panted heavily as cold sweat drained his face, halting seeing his mad 'creation', a man walking his dog passing by the sidewalk eyeing him weirdly before continuing his pace. He sighed as he let go of the hammer; falling to the ground, sinking deeply in the snow.

He swiped some sweat off his forehead 'good thing he had all his work saved in the cloud'. And thanked God he didn't burn his paperwork.

Feeling a buzz in his pockets, he took it out and responded:

'Mornin' to u, fatboy'

°°°°

"It's okay bubbie, we don't judge you for your awful taste," his mother reassured in a soothing voice squeezing his cheeks with both her hands making him pout, "Besides there's nothing wrong with being gay, we support it, we support you," with a loud 'muack' staining his left cheek with some of her red lip gloss.

"Ofcourse, however we would judge you immensely if you're the woman in the relationship," Gerald added as he fixes some issue on the tv, Ike nodded in agreement as he passed a screwdriver to his dad.

"Gerald!," Sheila screamed, sending him a scowl.

"What?"

"It's true, ma, if someone deserves to take it up the ass, it's Eric. He's a piece of shit and has teased Kyle for being a 'no good jew' for years," Ike commented before passing some duck tape.

"WHAT WHAT WHAT!? language mister! That's your future brother in law you're now talking about," Her mother attempted defending him but he noticed how she glance upwards contemplating it aswell.

"Yikes," Ike shuddered by the thought and realization.

That's all he could recall of how his family reacted to the news, now walking to school as he avoided the bus and Cartman all together. It was funny that the other day it was the complete opposite. He wanted to be close to Cartman, see him, talk to him and now, he wants to avoid even glancing at him.

So he thought.

Cartman was his 'boyfriend' everyone would expect for he to act like one, probably even Cartman himself.

He scratched under his hat, trying his best to ease his nerves.

Third period in and no sign of Cartman, 'the fuck did fatass go?' He thought, bouncing his leg anxiously focusing hard in to paying attention in class, but his eyes couldn't help but glance at the empty seat behind him.

"Kyle! Stop being a complete gaywad cause your little boyfriend went missing for a day ¡and pay attention!," Garrison screamed annoyed, making Kyle snap back at the board, some of his classmates snickered and whisper.

Stan glanced at him but he avoided looking back at him.

At lunch he texted Cartman asking him why he didn't bother going to school, but received no response in return.

He found that odd, maybe even second guessing if Cartman was actually taking in this new 'thing' going on between them any better. 'What if fatass was just as evasive with the subject as he was trying to do?'

He hesitated, as he munched on his food oblivious of the stares he's getting.

Dashing to his locker he went through his stuff and got a small key hidden behind some old markers; he should definitely throw away but didn't. He headed back to class as he waited for school to end straight up heading some old abandoned building they use to hide out as kids. Becoming the new 'freedom pals' headquarters, 'base' or whatever. He was the 'chosen one' for key keeping; mostly preventing Cartman to find it and scratch up all their things in spite, he was the only villain who was out to get them.

He opened the big metallic door with a 'creak' as it opened slowly, the hide out was never use nowadays and he hoped no hobos had crashed it by now, he honestly didn't care as long as he didn't encounter one at that moment. Right now that he needed something. He remembered having hidden it right in this base, away from Cartman, as it was the only place he was sure Cartman wouldn't grab it and use it as leverage against him.

He remembers how stoked he was to have found a small compartment underneath the floor, and how secretive he was deciding to hog his discovery for himself. Under a big rug he managed to peel it off dust spreading across the room, coughing heavily as he cringed by the bugs and mold that came out from it.

Moldy, greasy gross pictures spread in the compartment as a wet smell came out.

He went through all those pictures, memories flooding his head as he gather them up, shoving some old toys aside as he finally brought to his chest the red box he's been looking for.

Closing behind the metallic door as he went out and walked back home, now dark as he finally arrived.

He entered his room, locked his door as he approached his messy desk. Carefully placing the box there.

He wouldn't dare admit it, fuck, he probably could never. But countless times of him and Stan taunting Cartman over his diary was one of their favorite things to tease him for, cause it was 'funny' 'cringe' 'girly', etc, so the fact he did the unthinkable.

Funny enough, he made sure to consider his own a 'journal' than a diary, nonetheless it's still similar to one. It had everything he's written from age 7 to 9, it wasn't too big neither was he constant with it but it was definitely personal, and after that he never actually found himself writing shit down, he had other hobbies he was more interested of and honestly, wasn't his thing.

He admired the crappie scribbles with crayons and markers cover, all now full of mold, smudges and peeling edges. Still, in his eyes, it was beautiful. He remembered how proud he was to have finished it, and how each page was filled with passion and sincerity. To the good days, to the sad days, angry, stressed, nervous, anxious, spiteful, envious, sorrow, regret, it was a whole ride.

It was a stress reliever for sure, and somehow he understood why Cartman was so into it. But he really couldn't help but to NOT put that much effort in it. He recalls various times just not feeling himself to fill a page, no energy or just didn't care, but he pushed himself forward onto atleast writing two paragraphs. Cause if he stopped a day, it'll make him delay his enthusiasm making him forget the whole thing after skipping a few.

He opened his first page and he chuckled.

'NOT' in red for emphasis, 'a diaRy'.

Everything was blank besides the black and red ink.

He flipped the next page,

March 1, 2019

'Dear future self,

Today I've decided to write down and for each passing day until my last page, about my daily things or whatever.

To be honest I'm not sure, but I'll give it a try.'

The instruction page was simple yet explanatory, he flipped a couple of pages cause some he'd recognized; either boring or some about his procrastination trying to peek up again and force himself to atleast write he ate some cereal that day.

Halting in one peculiar page not far from those other ones, the edges were covered in pink crayon making it noticeable of being 'personal' to 'super personal'.

March 23, 2019

'Things went overboard with skank hunt (cartman) we had to put an end to it, it was hard, neither did I or Stan wanted to do it. But they did, they ended Cartman, he just couldn't stop no matter how many times they warned him.

That fake act he was putting wasn't fooling anyone, it was painlessly ridiculous how pathetic he looked thinking he'd convince us.

Still, the guilt eats me alive.

Is this what it's called betrayal? Certainly. Did Cartman deserve it? Definitely.

So why do I care so much about that fat piece of shit?

Why does my heart ache thinking about what they did?'

March 23, 2019

'If anyone could hear me, if I could tell myself to not do it, if I could back track time I would go immediately. We were wrong, we took Cartman down for no reason.

It wasn't him, it's silently breaking my mind right now.

I feel like my heart broke in pieces after that revelation, I don't know for sure why. But fuck, I screwed up.

I feel like the dirt and ground I'm steeping in would fall beneath me, falling straight to an abyss.

Looking at Cartman was like a punch in the gut a wound being spread in to my chest as a knife poke out from inside. Being stabbed.

If I could've listened to him, if I believed him...

Pain, a aching sensation spreading in my body, the wound sting. It burned.

And I can't find myself forgiving myself anytime soon.

I cried today.'

He couldn't help himself but to pace a finger gently on to that page, remembering vividly those memories spread back in his mind, feeling immensely what he had felt those past times.

Reconnecting to his younger self.

He flipped through two pages already knowing the rest.

March 25, 2019

'Heidi Turner, a girl I just found out will be willingly capable of dating fatass.

I still can't believe it, it's impossible to grasp upon it. Who would want to date Cartman? In what world would that be possible? Clearly in this one.

Fuck, the images resurface my mind everytime I shut my eyes, Cartman holding Heidi's hand, him making some gay ass necklace for her, smiling wide to her. Beaming as he was the most happiest boy alive as if they didn't broke his shit not long ago.

My stomach revolts by the thought, by the damn memory. I feel nauseous even writing it down, right now I feel grossed out. I want to vomit-

All over Cartman, that piece of shit is asking for it, this is all his fault. Like usual.

I have other worries to deal with, why does fatass always does something to keep me off track of what's important?

Fuck him, and fuck this shitty skank hunt situation.

And fuck girls! Fuck them all!

Butters is right they don't need to try to fix the girls shit by degrading themselves, they needed to show them that they had enough and they've tried, but now they're standing up for themselves for what's right. Cause they're going overboard with their bitch attitude.

So I'm sticking to it.'

Flicking some further pages he 'tsk'.

April 19, 2019

'Do I like Heidi Turner?

Or is it because she's Cartman's girlfriend? She deserves better than to date a asshole, he is only gonna cause her pain.

I've thought I just wanted to prevent a tragedy, save her the damage he'll cause her eventually. But maybe the girls are right? Maybe I am kinda interested in her. She's cute and seems smart, the type of girl anyone could fall interested, no?

Cartman isn't happy with her, he bitches about her all the time. She doesn't deserve that.

He doesn't deserve to be that miserable either, technically, he is helping a friend out, right?

It's not like that relationship is going anywhere, Cartman should just dump that poor girl already.

I feel pity, but I also understand if it was easy to be manipulated from that douchbag. No one can understand Cartman the way I do, no one can see through his lies, posture, gestures, words even see the mischievous glint in his eyes everytime he thinks he could trick him.

I hope she now realizes it isn't a easy deal, kisses and praises won't change Cartman, I doubt anything will. But still, Heidi seems too naive to realize, considering the girls aren't really trying to put an end to her relationship with Cartman, I thought it'd be a good idea to intervene.

But maybe I was wrong? I didn't expect to develop some sorta crush on Heidi, now that I think about it, I don't.. really feel anything but sympathy for her.

But if the girls think that I may be attracted to her maybe they see something I just can't see yet.

Maybe I do like Heidi.'

He unintentionally shook his head, grasping the idiocy of his own denial mind.

April 23, 2019

'I 'fought' Cartman today, kinda. It was just a tiny punch in the face that knocked him out cold.

He was being a douche, couldn't just move on from Heidi. Just couldn't let go because maybe spite? Or maybe he just likes being able to degrade someone who he knew will still be stuck on to his bullshit with 'no' choice but to deal with. Someone who'll indulge him, praise him and naively expecting him to change. Even though they were being manipulated by him that very instant.

Still, I MAY feel a little bad.. for doing what I did.

It's more of a certainty to show what it REALLY is to be in a healthy relationship, and to make sure no one fell again into Cartman's manipulative lies.

Someone has to teach him a lesson, someone has to put that fat bastard in his place. Someone has to make him realize it's not worth chasing after a girl that isn't doing anything wrong but like him back. Someone he truly just doesn't like and just uses to pin his shit on to them, dragging them with him. Turning them in him.

It's like Cartman was self destroying himself even more as that relationship continued to build, and planned to just take Heidi with him as it falls down.

Cartman wasn't happy, he was bummed all the time, and his energy just seemed drained. I find it quite annoying, mostly when he bashes about it and saying it's because of Heidi yet he showed no mean on dumping her anytime soon.

Good to know he didn't have to, making it easy for him to just move on!

Pretty much she handed him a way out and he shoved it up his ass. Typical Cartman, can't let something go if it doesn't end his way, childishly whining and making a fit as it didn't go as planned.

Claiming he no longer wanted to deal with Heidi but now begged to have her back, that he 'needed' her to be happy when he fucking wasn't.

What class of miserable logic was that?

Oh, I am now also dating Heidi Turner.'

April 25, 2019

'My first date with Heidi was unexplainable, it didn't last at all. She ended things off the moment I was immediately ready to take her out for a nice evening.

I'm disappointed, I tried, I really did, but I underestimated Cartman's commitment and stubbornness.

She was too far lost in Cartman's lies, he isn't gonna stop her now. She chose this path might aswell stick with it.

I already had gotten in to it too much, I was even warned and I didn’t listen, now I’m paying the consequences for it.

I've gotten my heartbroken two times and my hopes have been dragged enough, I'm not gonna follow in to this mess any longer; just listen to my friends on doing nothing and let it be.

If they want to willingly destroy each other, I won't care, it's not my problem anymore.

He'll realize eventually how bad it is to continue tagging along something he's forcing himself to be stuck with, instead of just using his common senses and rationalize his choices.

Even though it'll probably take awhile for he to do so, probably even get his balls kicked while trying to pathetically deny that his 'happiness' relied on only some girl.

Fuck Cartman.'

November 26, 2019

‘Cartman recently got broken up, now it seems to be legitimate. It also seems he had no plans on trying to pursue her any longer, he seems to have gotten over it very quickly even looked relieved.

I could probably say that fat fuck learned his lesson.

Things have been getting normal lately, the usual, but I figured I should just put a end to this chapter as I can now say for sure Cartman had also put it to end.’

He continually flipped page after page, reading through other small memories to heartwarming one of his friends or family. Stopping in to another peculiar but fond one.

December 2, 2019

Things like these are not meant to be forgotten, I must write this down engraving the essence of it, barely baring the possibility of it even happening

I just.. unbelievable, it’s fucking unbelievable.

Might as well shoot me in the head cause my eyes and ears just witnessed something mythologic. Something surreal that shouldn’t had happened but has somewhat craved seeing.

Generosity, from no other but from Cartman.

Me being proud of the fatass would be a underestimate, I can't described in exact words how I felt at that moment but I'll try describing it as best as I can.

Today was typically leveraging, having to be put up with the adults of town do something absolutely bizarre (stupid), we had to deal with Randy so we were targeted separately as being 'trouble', we as children were being pinned the blame on, than to the actual culprit.

It pissed them off ofcourse but it wasn't no surprise for them that Randy had use that excuse for his own dismay.

Somehow Stan managed to get us out from the cell we were put in, so it wasn't also a surprise for us to finish off the hell fire Randy Marsh had spread.

Apparently they needed something of great value to stop the gigantic robot that destroyed buildings in a dramatic 'godzilla' manner. People screamed in terror as they ran until they felt they were capable of going to. And well us four were confused, we weren't like at a place to go back home and get something valuable. We were stuck and in a middle of a crisis.

At the moment we were gonna give up and surrender as we had nothing, Cartman spoke up saying 'I do' and took it out from his pocket while grumbling under his breath unheard words as he gave the scientist (who was helping us) a small golden ring he previously had bragged about to me and the gang 'ha-hahaha! I got gold and you don't! Hahaha-ha! You cant steal this from me Kahl I'll have it on me 24/7 you sneaky little rat!' In his annoying mockingly manner and his dumb little dance as he sang it in tune.

We were all left bewildered, I know by how I had glanced to the guys to see if what I saw was real, and their surprised expression confirmed it.

Cartman gave his most precious ring to save south park out of his own will and heart.

I thought it was some type of charade or something with double gain but it seemed he didn't planned on doing anything at the end of it, just leaving home and cursing us out for being 'lame'.

It was so dreamy seeing him do that, he looked amazing doing something good for once, adorably innocent, I think he noticed it wasn't 'normal' of his character so he covered it up with a 'I'm doing it for Stan cause I know deep down he still cares for his dumbass dad,' But even that left me in 'awe'.

Fucking unbelievable.'

He continued flipping through pages realizing it wasn't so far off for him to start developing a sorta thing for fatass. He looked at a scribbled down page from the top, the writing was place on the bottom as if he was rethinking his words and overly stressed about it as he had ripped down some previously pages before writing on this one.

He realized this was already in the period of the covid crisis.

August 22, 2020

'Today was worrisome, Stan was acting differently (stress) motivated on wanting to help Butters build a bear during our school lockdown.

Ofcourse that just lead problems and various kids die (including kenny) in the process as we had convinced everyone to help out, we weren't supposed to escape neither ran off in the neighborhood.

Hiding from the police as we broke in the build a bear shop, Stan desperately attempting to build a bear while we tried reasoning with him that it was impossible without an adult's help, while surrounded by police officers outside.

And then there was Cartman AGAIN leaving us bewildered as he gave up the pangolin pitying Stan, again, for Stan.

It was starting to be a sorta thing of his to be doing small acts of good being 'Stan' influenced, it was starting to bug me.

I told Stan off on the phone before bed; what was up with him and Cartman but he was left confused and I hanged up before he could say anything.

The fuck with those two?'

He flipped through those pages smiling incredulous realizing how dumb he was to not see his own jealous arising.

September 10, 2020

'I told Cartman off his bullshit but it's like he didn't get me at all, that piece of shit.

I had told him in a way that didn't expose my skepticism without ridiculing myself but also in a way that he'll understand instantly.

'What? Are you gonna go do something about it for your boyfriend?' I had told him.

We were discussing about continuing on heading downtown and hang out or follow through whatever Randy had gotten in to revolving his weed business as he had called pleading Stan to help him with something while we were already on the way.

Stan groaned annoyed hanging up pinching the bridge of his nose contemplating on doing his dad's request or not, Cartman chimed in shrugging it off saying 'maybe if we take a cab and go to the fist seven eleven we see; grab the cheapest lighter there is and just swoop in, give your dad the lighter. Probably expecting it to last a minute-' he kept blabbering some type of vengeful scheme while Stan grunted shoving his hands inside his pockets.

'I dunno man, I'm really tired of Mr. Marsh issues rubbing on us,' Kenny told the four expecting for us to continue the first plan we had in mind.

'Yeah, but if Stan-' Cartman tried speaking for Stan, and when I mean TRY, I meant I interrupted him.

'What? Are you gonna do something about it for your boyfriend?'

I saw how Cartman acted as if he didn't know what I meant, arching those thin brows of his and squinting his glinting eyes in 'confusion'.

It pissed me off some more.

But Stan intervene claiming he really didn't want to get involved in his dad's shit today so we left it there.

Was it too much? No. I think. I'm just tired of this dumb act of Cartman's but I'm also tired of Randy's charades like Kenny had stated, it's just too much.

And what's up with Stan not saying anything about it? Like, he's just shrugging off that Cartman has openly stated most of the time being 'him' the reason he does nice things.

That's not normal, I wouldn't just shrug it off if I we're Stan.

I.. I'm not sure exactly what would I do if it were ME he'd do those nice things for, but I know I wouldn't ignore it. I'd probably ask for an explanation or something, fuck, maybe even see his limits, push him through exposing those good layers in him, analyzing his every movements, gestures, words, see if I could captivate some lie or genuine act.

Fuck, I wish I were Stan.'

Flipping through more pages, he recalled many other questionable moments between him and Cartman but this one stole the take.

July 9, 2022

'It was a blissful and snowy day, and Cartman couldn't stop nagging about me not getting him a birthday present.

In reality, I didn't give him a present cause I really didn't know what to give him (he isn't really easy to please when it comes from me.) So I justified myself saying he didn't deserve it and 'why would I want to give anything to someone who's a egocentric selfish piece of shit?', which isn't entirely untrue either.

In all honesty I was already getting tired of Cartman's nagging so I decided to go to Walmart and purchase some pizza rolls and call it even.

But, I just couldn't help myself but to eye a nice ceramic shiny white tea set that was placed in display. I remembered how Cartman has always had a thing for that type of stuff, he loves tea and also loves to do tea parties (which was very embarrassing) but nonetheless was something I knew he liked and I just remembered how Cartman still kept his old tea set in use, he was probably not capable on just buying a new one.

That was the perfect damn present, okay? I didn't have a choice.

It wasn't too much of me to go into a competition of pottery crazy lovers and compete for some limited edition tea set made from some old japanese master they idolized as some god, just for Cartman.

Okay, I may had done a little too much effort, but I was determined on not losing against a bunch of geeks, alright? NOT just Cartman.

I limped tirelessly twoards Cartman's door step with a tea set in hands, knocked clumsy trying to not fall in the ground by my wobbly legs.

And just shoved it in Cartman's arms as he opened the door with pj's on, declaring it was already late at night when I had finished that whole ordeal.

'You better not break it fatass.'

And I left, hoping Cartman would stop complaining of my absent present once and for all.'

He smiled knowingly he did. Tracing with his finger a couple of scribbles down at the end edge were he remembered he tried venting out his feelings with out actually really ripping off the page he wrote just cause he was angrily embarrassed to admit how much he WANTED to get that tea set for Cartman.

How he knew it'll make him happy. How he'll love it.

And worse part of it all, he was right. Cartman loved it and he really didn't know what to feel everytime they'd go to his house and he’d see the set place in his table, so neatly place it looked intentional.

Prev

[ambroziadelphine]

Careful, I bite. Chapter 20

Masterlist

"So, when we get to the boarder, we need to show them these? How far away is it?" Tobirama asked as we drove. We had indeed decided to leave early, Tobirama and Hashirama sharing a long goodbye before we left, the promise for the brunette to join us soon left in their mind as we got into the car. I gave Hashirama my apartment keys as he made us promise to text or call when we got there so he could know we were safe, we had gotten them a new phone curtesy of Alex and I, both of us pitching in to get both Senju brothers a phone and phone number. Tobi wasn't too thrilled at the device, acting like my grandparents when trying to use it which always made me laugh, but he appreciated it once I explained I felt bad he and Hashirama would be separated, wanting to use this as a way they could talk to each other whenever they wanted until he managed to convince Liz to come to BC with him.

"Actually the boarder is about 20 minutes from here." I said, keeping my eyes on the road besides a glance spared his way, his hand was in mine, a book in his lap with a coffee hot in his cupholder. We had made a quick stop at a Starbucks. I figured if we were taking a bit of a road trip, the least I could do was get him a drink for the way; though the fact he chose plain black coffee was kinda bland compared to my Earl Grey vanilla sweetened latte. "All they'll really ask for is the passports, why we're going, any other documents required, which for us is none. It should be a pretty quick encounter then we'll be headed to Whistler which is the closest town to her place." I explained, getting a nod from him as he went back to his book, taking a sip of his drink as he'd occasionally glance up to observe the snowy landscapes around us. I glanced at him and smiled, he looked cute when he was focused on something, his nose slightly scrunched almost like a bunny, his crimson eyes scanning the pages delicately of the Sherlock Holms novel B had gifted him the day before. He honestly looked like a prince; regal and strong, sat as if he knew the world rested on his shoulders even if it truly didn't. I couldn't help giving his hand a small squeeze, seeing him look up from the corner of my eye before squeezing my hand back a little, a soft smile now decorating his face as he continues to read.

It wasn't long before I pulled up to the Boarder Services, getting in the line as we patiently waited, only spending a few minutes in line before it was our turn. Passports in hand as I pulled up to the small post and handing them to the person inside the window.

"From BC, eh? What were you in Washington DC for?" The woman asked, her tone polite as she did whatever it was she did with our passports.

"Oh, just college. We're going home to visit my family for the winter." I said, smiling at her as she raised a brow.

"Oh? What're you studying?" She asked, her nametag read 'Willow', her darker skin and dreads a stark contract to her bright surroundings.

"Horticulture Technician. Basically I'll be cooped up in a greenhouse all the time, though I study plant identification and herbology more." I said with a slight laugh as she sighed.

"Girl, that is exactly what I'd be doing if I wasn't here." She said with a smile, handing our passports back. "If I didn't have such a bad pollen allergy, I'd be outside at every given chance." She chuckled as I smiled.

"I mean, I don't know about you, but ragweed is my personal enemy because of just that. No other pollen seems to make me into a sneezing monster quite like that one." I said, she gave a big laugh, a smile on her face as she shook her head.

"I feel you there. Sometimes I wish it could stay winter, then I go outside and want to go right back to bed where it's warm." She said, lifting the bar in front of the car to let us through. "Hope you have a good time visiting family. Should be a harsh Christmas according to the weather, try to stay warm if you can, eh?" She advised, I thanked her before moving on, the car falling into silence as Tobirama kept reading.

"That was indeed quite quick." He commented making he give a small hum.

"Yea, usually its quick as long as there aren't any issues with documentation. Seems the passport worked fine though, which is great news for when Hashirama comes down." I said, my hand resting back on the center console again as I grabbed his, our fingers instinctively curling around each other.

"Indeed." He said simply, though with the way the silence stretched, glancing at him when I noticed he wasn't turning the page anymore in his book.

"Wanna ask something?" I asked him, his eyes turning to me then back out the windshield.

"How can you talk to people so easily?" He asked after a moment, looking at me as he finally shut his book after marking his page. I glanced at him and shrugged.

"Never really had a problem with it before. I just think, if I'm anxious to talk to people, its bound to be the same for others, so why should I be the one to wait for someone else's move? If we all stayed scared to do something as little as talk to a stranger, we wouldn't get anything done and no one would feel safe." I said, my words were more so a reflection how I felt then a proper explanation. It was how my grandparents raised me, the only actual parents I got besides Alex's. "I actually get really scared when talking to people." I admitted, he looked at me in surprise and slight disbelief.

"I highly doubt that with how easily to spoke to that woman back there." He said making me roll my eyes.

"You can still be scared of something and do it." I said, looking over at him as we drove further into the cold BC mountains to Whistler. "Weren't you ever scared when you would fight? It'd be hard not to be, especially as a kid." I said, he was quiet before he sighed.

"I suppose you are right.." He grumbled, looking out the window before he furrowed his brows. "Canada looks so vastly different from Washington." He said making me smile.

"Welcome to my home country." I laughed, seeing him turn back to me. "Home of pure Maple syrup, moose, geese that can basically smell the smallest amount of fear in you and will bite you, plus, as you can see, a lot of snow." I said, his face was turning slightly at the last part.

"Yes.. snow, the thing that makes you cold and wet and can easily make you freeze to death." He said making me raise an eyebrow at him.

"I hope you know, just for that comment I will be pushing you into the snow at some point." I said making his sweatdrop.

"Please don't." He said but I just held a grin on my face as he sighed loudly. "Okay, fine, I apologize. I won't complain about the snow as long as you don't push me into it." He said making me chuckle.

"Alright, fine." I said, hearing him give a relieved sigh as he nodded.

"Thank you."

.

.

"Hey, did you know in Canada, there's a whole hotel made of ice?"

"Why would anyone sleep in that?" 

"I don't know, but it looks fucking awesome."

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

Pulling up the long driveway was relieving, Tobirama had gotten through his whole book and was now looking at games on my phone when we parked in front of the garage, going to the back seat and opening the door to take out our suitcases with our immediate needs in it, like clothes, hygiene stuff, etc. I walked up to the front door with Tobi, peeking into the window that overlooked the living room and seeing the lit fireplace, a figure with long black fluffy hair sat on the couch with their back to me, though I could clearly see the show Vikings playing which slightly confused me. That definitely wasn't Alex, hair wasn't straight enough to be her, so that only left one guess who it was.

"Madara likes Vikings?" I asked Tobirama, who frowned and looked in the window with me before scowling.

"He's acting like he owns this place." Tobi muttered making me pull him aside, not noticing the figure turn to the window just as I pulled Tobi out of view.

"Hey, remember what I said earlier? You don't need to get along with him like your best friends or anything, just be civil. No starting fights, okay? I'm sure Alex has made that clear to Madara as well." I asked, making sure he understood I was serious about this as he sighed and nodded.

"I promise, I will not start a fight." He said making me smile, pulling him down for a soft kiss, pulling back and wrapping my arms around him.

"Thank you." I said, his arms going around me as well before we let each other go and I knocked on the door, waiting a moment as barking sounded loudly from inside the house before surprisingly Madara was the one to answer. Seth jumped out at me and started whining for attention making me chuckle, I was half expecting Alex to just walk out from behind Madara but nope, only her shoes and coat hung up being the indication she was home.

"Tobirama." Madara said, his eyes narrowed at the albino causing me to feel slightly out of place as I crouched to pet the dog on the head.

"Madara." Tobi said, a hard look on his face making me sigh, standing up again.

"Yes, yes, we know you two don't like each other, we don't need the added angst like a teenage drama." I said, looking at them both before sticking a hand out for Madara to shake. "I'm Max, as you could have guessed. Where's Alex?" I asked, trying to look past him if I could see her.

"She's in the other room at the moment. I can say, I've heard good things about you from Alex." He said, taking my hand in a firm shake before he invited us in, still keeping a firm eye on Tobirama which didn't go unnoticed by either of us.

"Safe to say I've heard a lot about you from Alex, both before and after you came here. You will not believe how much she could talk about you, if I let her go on all day, I can guarantee she would've." I said, he chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" He asked and I chuckled and nodded.

"Oh, you've probably seen her room so I doubt I need to explain how big of a deal this actually is to her." I said as he nodded, a smug smirk on his face.

"Yes, I will say, I've grown quite fond of her room." He said making me raise a brow.

"Really now? She didn't tell me you were a bit egotistical, are all those posters making you get a bit of a big head about yourself?" I asked jokingly, he seemed surprised by my words before simple shrugging.

"Not my fault she's got posters of me up in our bedroom." He said before I blinked at his words, a sly smirk on my face as I realized the specifics of his language. 

"'our bedroom', huh? Guess that means things are going well here." I said, he chuckled again and nodded a bit. Tobi just stood close to me, a sour look on his face as I conversed with the Uchiha.

"I suppose I couldn't argue with that observation." He said before Seth started whining again and I crouched down again to ruffle his super fluffy fur, hugging the dog as I sighed.

"You, Seth, are about to be my new best friend."

[honeyabyss]

Mc falling asleep next to them

Lucifer:

he had been working nonstop for hours now and the pile of yet to be read and signed documents wasn't getting any smaller

you had been sitting in his study silently working on your own assignments, that was until you've finished them about an hour ago

pacing his room in boredom and looking at the stuff he keeps in his closets (mostly books, records and demonus)

"Could you stop wandering around, you're irritating me!" Lucifer is stressed, annoyed, etc and your sighs, constant footsteps and opening and closing of closet doors, didn't help him to concentrate

you could have left the room and found something else to do, but you were determined to spend some time with him, as the evening work hours are quite literally the only hours where you can be alone with him

so instead you seeked permission for putting on a record to have at least some entertainment, which was both a good and a bad choice at the same time

yes you had something to enjoy and relax to, but the relaxing part worked a little bit too well

after a good ten minutes you were sleeping peacefully, stretched out all over his sofa with no care in the world

"I'm going to take a small break and get some coffee. Do you want something as well?" Lucifer asked only to be met with silence, which he didn't appreciate

he was about scold you for being rude, when his gaze fell on your sleeping form and the words seemed stuck in his throat

how could you sleep so peacefully right next to one of the strongest demons of hell, he honestly didn't know if he was pleased you found comfort in his presence or if he should be annoyed that you don't take him serious enough

nonetheless you seemed to have a good sleep and as this is often near impossible in the House of Lamentation, he decided to let you sleep

he got himself his coffee and once back in his study he moved his workplace to the small coffee table and took a seat next to you on the sofa

he adjusted your form so you weren't hanging half of the edge and put his coat over your sleeping form for some warmth

"Foolish little lamb, letting your guard down in a house of wolves, good thing I'm here to protect you..."

Mammon:

"And then I, the Great Mammon, made an action movie worthy escape and totally didn't run away in a panic, because Lucifer was chasing me..."

he had been telling you how exactly he got into the situation of hanging from the ceiling once again, as you've tried as careful as possible to cut him free, which was harder then expected with the way he kept moving around

once finally free, he dropped onto the ground, whining about the rope burns he got basically all over his body, though demons heal quicker, it still wasn't a nice feeling

with a sigh you offered him your hand and pulled him up and away to your room to give him some of the salve Satan had made you the last time you had accidentally cut yourself while cooking

you sat a flustered Mammon onto your bed while you went ahead and searched through your bathroom cabinets that were filled with products Asmo had gifted you, when you finally found it you asked Mammon to hold still while you put some salve onto his burned skin

"W-what?! N-no way! I don't need your help, I can do that on my own!" and with that Mammon stormed away with your salve and locked himself into your bathroom

you knew better then to argue at this point, Mammon would do what Mammon wants to do...until he fails and seeks protection behind your back...

be it because he is embarrassed, doesn't know how to open the salve tube, or because there were so many rope burns...but Mammon took quite long to apply the crème, leaving you to wait for him for at least half an hour now

helping out Mammon can become quite tiring, not that you mind helping him or don't like being around him, but a nap sounds nice right now

and so you lay down in your bed, it is after all your room, and just because Mammon is currently camping out in your bathroom, doesn't mean that you can't take a nap

Mammon comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he probably needed a few more minutes to build up courage to face and thank you, but he is met with the sight of you sleeping on your bed

Mammons brain is working overdrive, trying to figure out if he should leave the room quietly, wake you up or stay and watch over you...then again he doesn't want to be seen as a creep by you, but he can't deny that he would like to stay with you

he carefully climbs into bed and pushes you a bit further in so you sleep on the wall side and don't fall off in case you move, it takes five more minutes until Mammon risks putting his arm around you all while holding his breath in anticipation of your rejection, when none comes he settles a little closer to you and falls asleep as well

"Don't worry my human, the Great Mammon is gonna keep you warm and protected in your sleep!"

Bonus: even though you two fall asleep next to each other with only Mammons arm wrapped around you, expect him to wake up on top of you holding you like your his pillow

Leviathan:

it was 5am and Levi and you were currently waiting in line in front of a shop to get your hands on a new limited edition Ruri-Chan figurine

surprisingly enough even though you turned up quite early, there were a good amount of people in front of you

the shop would only open a 9am so you still had a long time to queue in the coldness of the devildom morning

"Ah that is not fair! We planned everything so carefully, it was the perfect timing, why aren't we first in line?" Levi complained while standing on his tiptoes to be able to see and count the demons in front of him, coming to the conclusion that if everyone were to buy one figurine he'd still be able to buy one for himself...and whatever you might want

you weren't the happiest when he told you about his plan a few weeks prior and getting woken up this early you might have been a little slower than usual in getting yourself ready, now that you were here you couldn't help but feel a little guilty

you tried to cheer Levi up with the argument that if you were longer in line that also meant you could spend more time together, which resulted in Levi turning into a blushing but happy mess

you put down the blanket you've brought and made yourself comfortable on it, Levi joining you but looking a bit stiff from the closeness

you ate a breakfast consisting out of sandwiches made with whatever was left after Beels midnight snack, which wasn't much but better than nothing

afterwards as there was still a lot of time to pass you started to play some games on his Switch, trying to stay awake

the emphasis lies on 'trying', because after 2 hours or so you start to fall asleep, eyelids and limbs heavy, you don't have the energy left in you to fight the sleep and so you nod off, your head falling onto Levis shoulder who had been inching closer over the period of time...to be able to better see the Switch display not to be closer to you...

Levi.exe has stopped working

there he sits red as a tomato with Mc sleeping on his shoulder, the queue in front of him starts to pack up and move as the shop gets ready to open up, his Switch display is showing the game over screen, his mind feels fogged over and he has no idea how to react now

Mc just fell asleep and Levi feels guilty to wake them...but they have to move...

"H-hey Mc? T-the line i-is moving? Wake up....please..." his attempts are way to quiet for you to hear and even as he gently shakes your shoulder you do not wake, leaving Levi quiet in a dilemma

"N-no other choice..." he says as he packs up the stuff alone, leaving only you sitting on the cold floor...he can't just leave you here..

Levi turns into his demon form, his hands shaking and eyes flitting across your from and over the crowd of other demons, before he carefully lifts you into his arm, his tail wrapping around you as well for more stabilization, so he has one hand free to carry his shopping bag later

he never bought something faster than that day, he got his figurine and even bought you some anime merch he knew you had stated to like, all while feeling like he was running the worst fever of his life and receiving stares, giggles and smug smiles from way too may people, that was enough attention for at least a century for Levi...but he did like holding you in his arms

"This is not fair! I have to deal with all the embarrassment while you sleep...but I guess it's okay if it's for you..."

Satan:

Satans last anger fit had caused way more damage than usually, it had taken place in the library when Mammon had tried to steal a very rare book about spells, to sell it after he found out how rare it actually is...now that lead to Satan throwing down and emptying almost all bookshelves and kicking Mammon through the room

While Mammon was strung upside down from the ceiling, Satan was forced to clean up the library alone, but you had pity on him as there were quite a lot to clean up, if Lucifer doesn't find out you helped there will be no consequences

Satans opinion about you helping was split, first of all he was really thankful for the help even though he was at fault for the chaos, having to clean up all alone was a bit much, but on second thought Satan was worried that you tried to go against Lucifers orders, he's proud of you for defying his eldest brother but also feels like it's a stupid idea

but you have made your mind up and so while Satan repairs and stands up the shelves, you begin to put the books in, you might not know the exact way they stood like Satan, but for now getting them off the floor is the priority

there aren't many words spoken as you silently work away, only once in a while you point out a book which got a bit more damage, the cover hanging off loosely or a few pages ripped out, you two decide depending on the damage if it can be fixed or not

every now and then Satan asks you to hold a piece of a shelf together while he fixes it, he is surprisingly fast and knows exactly how to repair it...just as if he had to do it more than once in a while...

"Oh Mc? Can you give me the screwdriver? No no that one, the one with the cross head is what I need..." you had no idea there were so many different tools, and wouldn't be the slotted one sufficient if you just angled it right? Satan just laughs and let's you try it for yourself, only for you to fail, he then shows you how to do it correctly guiding you through fixing your first shelf

"The last shelf is standing again, I'll help you with the book now." Satan pointed out, a small ray of hope now that only the books were left, you didn't reply, which honestly wasn't really necessary, but a small affirming noise would have been nice, so Satan tries to keep the 'conversation' going, while he works on the books with his back turned to you

"...you're still ignoring me? Are you angry at me for making such a mess? You know you didn't have to help...you can go, no need to act like all high and mighty!" he was getting angry again, yes he did make a mess, but he didn't do anything to you! Had he? He couldn't remember, but humans might interpret actions and words differently…he didn't want you to be mad at him, and neither did he want to get angry at you, but with you ignoring him it became quite difficult to keep his voice low

having enough and wanting to make up before it gets worse, he makes his way over to you, who was leaning against a shelf with a book in your hand

as he sits down next to you and turns your body to him through a guiding hand on your shoulder, he startles, you fell asleep in a sitting position? That sounds more like something Belphie would do...Isn't that uncomfortable?

You must have been exhausted after filling up three shelves of books and fell asleep midway on your fourth shelf, Satan chuckles amused and relieved you aren't mad at him but simply sleeping

He picks you up and brings you to your room where he lies you down in your bed, covering you with the blanket and hesitantly stroking your hair before going back to cleaning up the library

"Thank you for being so patient with me and helping me! You can rest now and I'll make it up to you later!"

Bonus: he will most definitely take you out on a date of your choice, even if he doesn't enjoy the idea as much as you

Asmodeus:

Asmo had taken you out shopping, as he claimed his wardrobe was not having the right clothes anymore so he had to get new ones fast

he had dragged you through town for the whole day and you two only returned home late in the afternoon, you completely exhausted and ready to drop in your bed, while Asmo while being slightly tired, still insisted on putting on all the clothes and showing them off to you and his followers on Devilgram

he entrusted you with his D.D.D to take some nice amazing shots of him to gain even more followers, though that seemed impossible as it already felt as if the whole population of hell was already subscribed to his account

but as long as all you had to do was hold the D.D.D up and click the screen for a picture, you were fine, you sat down on Asmos bed trying not to disturb the bags of clothes that lay there as well

Asmos screen lit up nearly every few seconds with a new message, how did this man not get crazy with all the message?! And he must check them all, because whenever you write him, he is on and writing back instantly...maybe you should steal his D.D.D from time to time to get him away from it...

While Asmo was changing into new clothes in the bathroom, you could hear him humming a happy tune, clearly in his element and enjoying his time, which made you happy as well, but the exhaustion was still plaguing you and the bed felt unbelievably comfy and on top of that the humming of Asmo was slowly lulling you into sleep

"Oooh Mc~ I especially like this top! Just look how nicely it fits, it shows of my best parts, which are all of me haha...hey Mc?~ Look at me!" Asmo pouted as you stayed put on his bed, and climbed over your form, already expecting you to start pushing him off, only to get concerned when you don't

then he sees your eyes are closed and you seem to be peacefully asleep, he instantly coos at your sweet sleeping expression, the back of his hand caresses you cheeks softly, but you don't react much besides moving a bit into am ore comfy position

Asmo backs off and begins to put down his bags, then he tucks you under his covers and climbs right in with you, pulling you close so that you lie on his chest, his arms encircling you to keep you put

the pictures for Devilgram are forgotten for now, they're not running away anyway, you two can continue another time, but for a beauty nap sounds good

"Oh Mc! You look so cute when you're sleeping...next time tell me you need a break, I'm happy to cuddle you while you're recovering!"

Beelzebub:

you had decided to stay a bit longer at RAD today, because you still had something to discuss with one of the teacher, as well as doing some research for an essay that was due next week

most of the brothers had already left for home or different work related activities, except Beel who had Fangol practice today after school, and as you were not allowed to walk around the Devildom without someone accompanying you for protection, all that was left for you was to wait for Beel to finish his practice, which usually took place for about two hours

you sat down on one of the benches at the side of the field, waving to Beel so he knew you where you were and could keep an eye on you

you worked away on your homework and checked you D.D.D from time to time replying to all the messages you got

the practice seemed to be still not finished even after two hours had passed and you were getting a bit tired from sitting around, but you also couldn't just wander off, Beel might start worry...plus the risk of running into a less friendly demon was still a thing

so you shifted from one position into another not really being able to get comfortable on the hard wooden bench

the ground seemed to be comfier with every minute passing, and so you lay down ignoring the weird looks of the team and trainers, you're body simply wasn't made to sit on this bench longer than necessary

"Here you can wrap yourself in this...it's getting cold. Training is almost over, just hold out a few more minutes!" Beel came over and gave you his jacket and you quickly put it on revelling in his warmth

but here is the problem the jacket made you feel so comfortable that you fell asleep, right on the floor next to a few dozen demons

"We're finished! I'm hungry, let's go get something to eat, any wishes what you want?" Beel was packing his stuff and rambling on about how he could eat at least one year worth of food, training having starved him quite a lot

but when you didn't respond he grew worried and kneeled down next to you, gently resting his hand on your side, he simply laughed when he saw you fell asleep, he is used to it due to Belphie, so he carefully picks you up and carries you home, deciding to order food once there

just Beel giving you a piggy back home, softly smiling to himself and being happy you've come to be so at ease around demons..still at bit worried, but he'll protect you, no worries

"I'll stay by your side until you wake up...and then we can eat lots of good food...please just don't sleep too long or I might have to eat before you wake up."

Belphegor:

so there he was, sleeping, on your bed, in your room, without an invitation...and honestly it wasn't even a surprise anymore, coming home after a work shift at Hell's Kitchen and just wanting to sleep, but no there was no space for you on the bed

I have no idea how, but he manages to occupy the whole bed, and hog blanket and pillows to himself as well

if only he was easy to wake, just to tell him to move over, but no he wouldn't wake up unless you pulled the big guns and nobody wants to face the consequences after one dumped water bottle on his head, it would be a hundred times easier and less dangerous to wake Satan

but you were really tired and just wanted to cuddle into your bed, maybe you could maneuver him with a bit strength..actually forget that...you could always call Beel for help to carry him to his own bed, but by the way he was clinging to your blanket and pillows, that would only end in a empty mattress to sleep on and then you would get cold...

honestly it was his own fault at this point you had threatened him to do it, but he had just laughed it off...

and so you climbed into bed and lay down on top of him, wrapping your arms around him so that you would get at least his body warmth if not the blanket

to your surprise he didn't wake up and he was really comfy, his rhythmic breathing was really relaxing and it didn't take you long to fall asleep

after some time Belphie wakes up with you wrapped around him, he quickly realises that you're asleep, but is stunned nonetheless that you would actually have the guts to sleep on top of him with the risk of waking him up in a bad mood

"That's quite bold of you! You didn't think I will let that slip though, right?" he chuckles amused but shifts nonetheless to make room for you, his embrace is tight, and he hopes just a little bit that you wake up, so he can tease you, but you stay asleep looking content with your new position

"I suppose I could go for another nap...now that I have my favourite pillow with me, sleeping will be even better!" he cuddles you, just like the blanket and pillows...which you don't get any of by the way, but you get Belphie so that's even better, he's gonna keep you warm, don't worry

"You're such a odd human...no idea why I like you...anyway just stay here in my arms and sleep!"

Diavolo:

yesterday was amazing, Dia had taken you to a trip in the human world and you had showed him around, visiting as many places as you two could

what you didn't know was that he had actually sneaked out of the castle to spend time with you

well you didn't know until a very angry Barbatos opened a portal right in front of you two and started lecturing Dia for at least one hour

you felt a bit guilty that you were the indirect cause of this and quickly apologised to him promising to make it up

so here you were in Dias office, overseeing him to do his work so he couldn't sneak out again and Barb didn't have to find him

after all if the reason for sneaking out was right in his room then he had no reason to go, besides the intimidating amount of work left on his desk after yesterdays excurse

Dia worked concentrated for most of the time, only now and then staring out of the window or talking to you

"Isn't it boring to watch me work? I can work alone, I promise to run away...or else Barbatos might get a heart attack from shock of seeing me gone again" he chuckled while signing another document

you reassured you didn't mind sitting next to him in silence, you had a good book borrowed from Satan, tea and cookies from Barbatos and you could stare at Diavolo all day long

your last statement made Dia flush red quite quickly and he tried to distract himself with his work, he slouched over in his chair trying to escape your gaze, but you were having none of it

your arms snaked around his waist and your head came to lean on his shoulder, Dia stiffened not sure how to react he liked the feeling of you hugging him, but now he was scared to move too much as not to disturb you or accidentally hit you with his elbow while trying to write

after a few more documents his eyes flit over to your face, cheek squished against his shoulder, eyes closed and breathing calmly

"Mc? Are.. are you sleeping?" he is whispering trying not to be too loud in case you are truly sleeping, and that you are! A soft smile graces his lips, nobody was ever this relaxed around him, he is proud and wants you to stay asleep as long as possible

he keeps working until Barbatos knocks on the door, coming in and announcing to have brought more tea, only to stop when he sees the sight in front him, Mc holding onto Dia, head resting on his shoulder and sleeping, while Dia put his finger to his lips to tell him not to be too loud

you sleep for an hour or so until Dia really has to move, apologising multiple times for having to wake you

"I'm glad you're able to relax around me, please continue to be yourself! My shoulder is always there for you to nap!"

Barbatos:

"You liked the cake that much? I'm flattered! I could teach you how to make it if you'd like?"

you had been over for tea at the castle and the chocolate cake with black-as-hell cherries was the best cake you've ever ate, it was bittersweet in taste not too much sweetness and not too much bitterness, paired with the melting chocolate, you could have eaten the whole cake on your own

you doubt you'd be able to get the same ingredients in the human realm but maybe you could find similar ones, so you were more than willing to learn with Barbatos

and so you arranged to meet the next Sunday afternoon for a baking session

Barb let you into the castle already awaiting you at the door even though you were early

you two worked on the cake, Barb explaining each step carefully, even for the easiest steps he takes his time to explain and help you, being very patient with you no matter how much you screw up

"Next we have to melt the chocolate in a pot. Wait a minute I turn on the stove for you" while you put the chocolate pieces into a pot, Barb moves behind you and turns on the stove, his arms brushing your sides, yet he stays fully focused, what can't be said for you

the cake is put together quickly with you two working together and while it bakes in the oven and the chocolate is meting, you two go ahead and start cutting and coring the rest of the cherries to decorate the cake later

"Here have a taste, they're bitter at first but the aftertaste is nicely sweet!" He holds out a cored cherry for you to taste and eats one himself, smiling gently at you while you sniff at the fruit first, which smells exactly like a normal human world cherry

the only thing left to do is wait for the cake so you two sit down for some tea at a small table in the kitchen, talking about the week, when Diavolo calls for Barb and he quickly excuses himself to help the prince out

the sweet aroma of the baking cake, the warmth of the tea and the very comfy chair you're sitting in, are a dangerous combination making you fall asleep

as Barb returns he sees you with your head lying on your folded arms on the table, clearly asleep, Barb decides to eave you there while cleans the kitchen and checks on the cake half an hour later

"Mc? The cake is ready to be decorated do you want sleep or do you want to help me?" somewhat embarrassed you stand up and help him with the decorations , Barb acts if nothing happened but he can't help but think about your gentle expression while you slept

"Next time I'll let you sleep longer... I wouldn't mind if you visited me for your naps if that meant I could see you more often."

Solomon:

learning magic was many things: exciting, frustrating, dangerous, fun...but sometimes it also was unbelievable boring

like when you think about magic, you think about casting charms, curses, making potions and all that stuff, but nobody told you that beforehand you have to learn everything about the new spell or etc in theory!

so here you were sitting with Solomon as he rambled on about how while the shrinking charm could have really bad side effects if casted wrong, sure it was important to know how to cast it correctly but did you really have to listen on to everything that might go wrong?

listening to all this just make you feel less confident, I mean technically you were practicing with a tea cup to shrink, so shrinking only a part of it wouldn't be too bad of a side effect, but what if you used too much pressure and made the cup explode and you'd hurt Solomon in the process?!

You took a deep breath, which made Solomon stop talking as he looked at you questioningly

"Anything wrong? Already giving up? Is it toom much?" his light teasing was meant to make you relax, but all you could do was give a small, stiff smile, signalling for him to continue and he did, after messing up your hair with his hand giving you a huge grin, but he talked slower now giving you more glances to make sure you were still alright

"How about a small break? I'll make us some tea..." he stood up and made some tea...in a beaker over a Bunsen burner..this weirdo..

the tea didn't taste weird though, it was just normal tea, even though the preparation would have made Barbatos get a stroke

after the break he was back to full tutor mode and your concentration slipped with each new word, until your head falls down, your chin resting on your chest comfortably, you had fallen asleep right before him

Solomon notices instantly that you're asleep and starts laughing so loud that you wake up again, he is crying and gasping for breath at your flustered state and you hit for good measurement on the arm

"Am I that boring? Fine if you're tired you can rest on my bed. I'll read you a bedtime spell book..." he doesn't stop laughing and teases you endlessly, you better be on your toes around him, you won't be hearing the end of this

"Hey sleepyhead? Do you want me to read you into boredom? I won't take pictures of your sleeping and drooling self...No promises made though..."

Simeon:

He was staring blankly at his manuscript, writers block had been plaguing him for quite some while now, but the new chapter had to be sent to the company until next week

you had offered to help him out maybe you could give him some ideas, so he invited you over and let you read the latest chapter so you'd know what had happened

you sat in his room brainstorming ideas on a small extra sheet trying your best to help Simeon out who looked quite lost

"Do you think that would work? Doesn't if feel a bit too rushed? But maybe if we combined these two ideas together..." he seemed to had found something and began to roughly write up a plan for his further writings

he continuously asked you questions about the smallest details, it was kind of cute that he relied so much on you, he probably could have done the rest himself as well, yet he kept involving you into the whole process

while his one hand scribbled like a madman, his other rested on your arm occasionally lightly squeezing it, reminding you that he didn't forget about you

you slowly fell asleep, the sounds of each others breathing, the pen scratching over paper and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall, the inly sounds to be heard

"What about this part? How do you think it could go from here?...Mc?" he wasted no time in making sure you were lying comfortably, putting his cloak over your form and still squeezing your arm from time to time while he continued to write late into the night

only then did he notice, the brothers might worry about your absence, should he wake and bring you home? or should he let you sleep here and inform Lucifer about your safety? but the sofa you were currently sitting on, would make your back hurt if you continued to sleep here

it took him some time debating with himself, but came to the conclusion to carry you to his bed and tuck you in, giving you a forehead kiss like he was used to with Luke, only to realise what he'd done and quickly scrambling away in embarrassment to give Lucifer a quick call about the situation

"Have sweet dreams my lamb! I'll be guarding you in any realm, even the dream realm!"

Luke:

Luke, Simeon and you were having a small movie evening, watching some old Disney movies

Simeon didn't allow you to watch something else to protect Luke, but you didn't mind too much

you were having some freshly made desserts by Luke who had worked on them the whole day, as he was very excited for your meetup

you watched a few movies, talking, laughing and joking together, just having fun

"Huh? They called the mean cat Lucifer? Hahah how fitting, he kind of even looks like the real Lucifer! Ah, don't tell him that though!" Luke really liked to compare the different characters to the people he knows, but when there actually were a cat called Lucifer he was quite surprised...who would want their cute pet to be called like a demon? Why not call them angel names? Michael is a pretty cool name...

over the time you became more and more tired and Simeon seemed to notice, suggesting on stopping for today and continuing another time, but Luke convinced you two of one more movie

unfortunately you didn't last the final movie and fell asleep cuddled underneath the blanket between Simeon and Luke

Luke took some time to notice, only seeing it when he turned to you wanting to tell you his opinion about the last scene

"Oh! Simeon... Mc fell asleep..." Simeon already knew, as you had fallen onto his shoulder, not that he minded, he just told Luke to stay quiet and watch the rest of the movie

Luke cuddled up to you to keep you warm and occasionally glanced at you to make sure you were okay, and there cuddled next to you he as well fell asleep...trapping Simeon underneath your combined weight, making it impossible for Simeon to get out of the bed, so you three just slept together that night

"Don't worry Mc! I'll keep all demons away from you while you sleep!"

[jbreenr]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have. 

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request. 

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were. 

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence. 

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse. 

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen. 

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone. 

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through. 

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen… 

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to. 

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing. 

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours. 

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss. 

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then. 

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him. 

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. 

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears. 

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer. 

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

[contemplativepancakes]

Geralt is possibly the least interesting vampire in the world. Jaskier is strangely okay with that. 4k, G. read on AO3 here!

for @theamazingbard (:

Geralt holds up two ties in front of the mirror, comparing the fabrics against his suit. By now, he’s used to the headless suit that reflects back at him in the mirror. Geralt’s never been one to overly question things, so he couldn’t tell you why vampires don’t show up in mirrors, but really, that’s fine. A relief, even.

He’s not sure he wants to know what he looks like. He knew once, before he was turned. He wasn’t exactly a looker then, and he highly doubts he is now.

Geralt chooses the black tie with the tiny dots instead of the black tie with the stripes, and clips it on to his suit. What? He can’t be expected to tie a tie every single day. He smooths it down over his chest. Satisfied, he sits down on the bed to tie his dress shoes. Reliable double knots.

He walks down the hall to crouch in front of the refrigerator, pulling out one of the bags of blood he keeps there. He pauses to look at the label. It’s his favorite, AB. He tucks it into his lunchbox, then pauses to rip one open and dump it into his travel mug. He pours some protein powder in it to make the blood coagulate. He can definitely see the appeal of this boba tea the humans have been drinking recently.

As he heads out the door, he darkens a little as he looks at his neighbors’ decorations. He hates Halloween. A time for people to get everything wrong about monsters. They live with them, the least they could do is be a little considerate and do their research.

No, they can’t repel Geralt with garlic. He scowls at the thought.

Geralt’s distracted from his thoughts as a young man runs by him out of seemingly nowhere and falls on the sidewalk just in front of him, his knee splitting open.

Geralt rubs a hand on his neck as the man looks up at him beseechingly.

“Uh. Do you need any help?”

“My, you’re ever so kind,” the man says, extending a hand that Geralt uses to pull him to his feet.

“Probably want to get that cleaned off,” Geralt says. “Make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Oh, dear! You’re right. Would it be possible for me to use your sink?” he asks, batting his eyelashes.

Geralt squints. “I...guess?”

“Oh, thank you!”

Geralt unlocks his door and leads the man into his bathroom, graciously pretending not to notice the man looking around the apartment in wide eyed fascination. He must not know that Geralt is a vampire, then, or he wouldn’t be so quick to ask Geralt for help. People around here avoid Geralt for the most part.

“I’m Jaskier,” the man says, as he bends his leg so his knee is right under the faucet. Geralt politely looks away when he notices how the motion makes the material of his pants stretch right across the seat of his ass.

“Geralt,” he replies, watching Jaskier closely for a reaction.

There’s none, so Geralt kneels down and looks under the sink for his hydrogen peroxide. When he finds it, he hands it to Jaskier wordlessly.

Jaskier flashes him a winning smile. “I guess it was my lucky day to run into you, hmm?”

Geralt doesn’t think anyone has ever said that about him before. “Anyone would do what they could to help you avoid infection,” he says dutifully.

Jaskier deflates a bit. “Well, there must be some way I can repay you. How about coffee?”

“Oh. I don’t really...drink coffee.” Geralt waits for Jaskier to get it. It’s not like monsters like him are uncommon, per se.

“How about dinner, then? A steakhouse.”

“Sure,” Geralt says, surprising himself. He blinks. His brothers are always telling him he needs to make more friends. And a steak does sound particularly good. He rarely lets himself indulge in things like that.

Jaskier brightens. “Hey, would you mind putting a band aid on this for me? I can never get it to stay.”

“I’m not sure that applying band aids is exactly rocket science,” Geralt says, but he does it anyway, his nose twitching at the scent of the fresh blood.

Geralt is centuries old, though, so it’s not like a little blood is the end of the world. Maybe when he was a fledgling, but those days are long past him.

He gives Jaskier’s knee a tiny pat. “Looks like those pants are done in for,” he says inanely.

Jaskier shrugs. “A worthy sacrifice.”

Geralt doesn’t respond to that, and Jaskier lets the silence linger. Geralt clears his throat. “I’m going to be late for work.”

Before he leaves, Jaskier insists Geralt give him his number so that he can arrange their dinner. “I’m very much looking forward to it,” Jaskier says with a grin.

Geralt gives him a hesitant smile, looking at the clock. He really does need to get a move on.

Jaskier seems to get the hint and lets Geralt usher him out the door.

In the end, Geralt’s not late, but he is grumpy that he only arrived five minutes early instead of his customary fifteen. It throws his entire day off, and the numbers seem to swim before him on his computer screen like never before.

Geralt scowls. He should have picked the tie with the stripes.

-

Jaskier contains his pout as he walks along the sidewalk, away from Geralt’s house. He practically offered himself up on a platter to be ravished, and Geralt was completely unaffected. There was blood right in front of his nose!

Jaskier doubts his information for a second, but Priscilla was the one who told him in hushed whispers that the word was that Geralt was a vampire. If Valdo had been the one to tell him, then he would have had a few more qualms, but Priscilla wouldn’t lie to him like that.

She knows how the idea of being partners with a monster makes him feel hot under the collar.

Jaskier resolves to be better. If a cut knee wasn’t enough, he’ll just have to step up his game for this dinner. And surely, if Geralt didn’t want to be seduced, he would have sent Jaskier on his merry way after bandaging his knee instead of bandaging it for him, for gods’ sake.

Maybe Geralt wants to be the one being chased after for once. Well, Jaskier is happy to oblige.

-

When Geralt gets home from work, there’s a text waiting for him. How about Friday night for our little get together?

It’s not like Geralt ever has any plans that might get in the way besides his weekly meeting, so it’s not like he has to check his calendar before he replies. Sure.

Great! I’ll pick you up at 8! :D

Geralt frowns. This doesn’t seem right. He hasn’t made a new friend in possibly fifty years, and now one literally falls into his path?

He hums to himself as he does his nightly routine, pushing on the gum above each fang to make it pop out so he can properly brush it. Cleanliness is next to godliness, and all that. Actual dentists that weren’t just going to try to pull out his teeth have only been around for less than the majority of his life, so it’s habit to take good care of them.

Geralt strips off his clothes until he’s left in just his t-shirt and boxers and climbs into bed. No, he doesn’t have a coffin or hang upside down like some sort of bat. Geralt’s not sure where all that nonsense got its roots in the first place.

There’s so many things that humans seem to have no qualms believing about monsters, though, and Geralt frowns as he punches his pillow into a better shape. He’s almost 250. His lumbar health is no joke.

-

His anxiety bleeds into his work, making Excel blink more error messages back at him than he’s ever seen before. Geralt’s boss pulls him aside to ask if he’s okay. Geralt sulks.

He is the consummate professional, and he’s not going to let this dinner get the better of him. Geralt contends anyone would be nervous if they hadn’t made a new friend in decades, too.

Now, he stands in front of his closet. He’s certainly not going to wear a suit, but he rarely wears anything else. It’s not like he goes much of any place besides work and his weekly meetings. Geralt sighs as he pulls a pair of jeans out of his wardrobe.

They’re a lot tighter than he remembers, but this is all he has, so it’ll have to do. He finds a long sleeved shirt that is luckily on the baggier side. He hopes that will make up for his too-close fitting jeans.

Geralt brushes his hair, but he can’t see it in the mirror, so there’s no point in doing anything else with it. He’s more likely to make himself look ridiculous than presentable with whatever he might attempt.

Geralt plants himself on the couch, reaching for his book to read until the clock rolls around to the time Jaskier promised to pick him up. His fingers play with the corners of the pages, bending them in a way that he’s sure would make a librarian displeased.

Geralt huffs when he realizes he’s not going to get any reading done and sets the book down on his side table. He takes a deep breath through his nose. He is ancient; he shouldn’t be getting social anxiety right now.

His phone pings with a text. Outside!

Geralt looks out the window, and indeed, there’s a car there. It’s a lime green slug bug, with rust eating its way up from the undercarriage. Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose. That looks like Jaskier’s car, all right.

-

Jaskier tries not to drool as Geralt walks down his steps. He’s wearing pants that are skin tight, which should frankly be illegal, and his shirt hangs off of him so that it shows his collar bones. Jaskier thought that vampires should be the ones who wanted to bite, but he would really love to get his mouth on one of those.

Geralt gets into the passenger seat with a half smile playing around his lips. “Like my ride?” Jaskier asks.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

Jaskier claps his hand to his heart in mock offense. “I’m wounded.”

Geralt hums, shifting in his seat as he fastens his seatbelt. Jaskier drums his fingers on the steering wheel, flexing his right arm to draw attention to the bandage he has there. He went and donated blood this afternoon, and if Geralt doesn’t get his hint this time, he is going to pound his head against the nearest wall.

-

Geralt shifts his head to look out the window as Jaskier keeps his arms on shameless display. He knows times have changed, but it’s also always a little dizzying to see so much of everyone’s skin on display all the time, their pulse thrumming invitingly underneath it.

Geralt shakes his head to clear it of its reverie as Jaskier pulls his car into drive. It gives a concerning lurch. Before Geralt can open his mouth to comment, Jaskier is holding up a hand. “I can assure you, we are perfectly safe.”

“Hmm.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests. “It is. I take care of it.”

“All I said was hmm,” Geralt says with a tiny grin. “That’s why it has so much rust, right?”

Jaskier sighs. “I was going to get around to repaint it, and then I just...other things came up.”

Geralt makes a face at him, laughing at Jaskier’s increased defenses. Some of his anxiety fades away as he realizes this isn’t so bad, after all. Maybe Jaskier needs a new friend just as badly as him.

When they arrive at the restaurant, Jaskier pulls Geralt’s chair out for him. Geralt gives him a polite nod. He can’t say he has a firm grasp on all the recent customs. Lambert’s always telling him he’s stuck in the past.

Geralt crosses his fingers and rests his chin on his hands as he watches Jaskier eat his salad, taking endearingly large bites. Jaskier hasn’t even mentioned anything about vampires yet. Geralt is starting to feel a tiny bit guilty. Would he still want to spend all this time with him if he knew Geralt wasn’t human?

As he’s thinking that, Jaskier takes a big gulp of his water and starts to sputter. Geralt’s across the table in an instant, his hand around Jaskier’s bicep and another hand on his back. “Are you okay?” Geralt murmurs, tense and ready to help if the need arises.

Jaskier coughs and waves him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe.”

Geralt relaxes a bit, but as his hand lingers on Jaskier’s arm, he can’t help but feel how warm it is, such a contrast to his own constantly cool skin. When Jaskier turns his face to look up at him, Geralt quickly drops his arm and beats a hasty retreat back to his seat.

He could swear Jaskier looks disappointed. He must be delusional.

When the main course comes, Geralt cuts neatly into his pink steak, mouth watering as the juices come leaking out of it. He sucks the tip of his finger into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut at the salty taste of it.

He makes himself cut the steak into tiny pieces. He’ll have to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire eventually; he might as well make sure he doesn’t think he’s a barbaric onel. Geralt tries his best to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face instead of his arms. He can’t help but notice that he has some very nice veins. They’re a striking blue, and a perfect compliment to his eyes.

Geralt bites his lip, flinching when one of his fangs pops out on its own, pressing into his lip.

“One of my uncles is a werewolf,” Jaskier says, apropos of nothing, looking at Geralt meaningfully.

A trickle of sweat runs down Geralt’s back. Does Jaskier think he’s a werewolf? Werewolves are generally regarded better than vampires; at least they’re only monsters one night a month.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, not hearing the rest of Jaskier’s sentence.

Jaskier laughs at his own joke, and Geralt blinks rapidly until he can focus again on what Jaskier’s saying.

When the waiter comes with the check, Jaskier insists on paying for it. Is this what friendship has evolved to since Geralt last had one? He doesn’t know enough about it to argue with Jaskier, so he lets him do what he wants.

-

Outside of Geralt’s house, Jaskier puts a hand on the console between them, making eye contact with Geralt before dropping his gaze down to his lips. Geralt gives him a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling. His white hair looks ethereal in the moonlight, and Jaskier is only a little infatuated.

Geralt’s exterior is stony, but he also had no problems giving Jaskier all sorts of secret smiles throughout the night. Jaskier’s not sure he’s met a better listener than Geralt, and he tends to drone on and on, so that’s somewhat important to him.

Jaskier closes his eyes and starts to lean in when Geralt opens the car door. Jaskier opens his eyes.

“I had a great time, thank you,” Geralt says, one hand on the top of the car.

Jaskier bites his lip, stopping himself from saying what he wants. “Me, too. Let’s do it again some time?”

Geralt nods eagerly, and Jaskier watches him walk away, his gaze fixed on Geralt’s devastating pants and not at all on the way his ass looks in them.

Jaskier rests his head on the steering wheel in despair. He doesn’t know how to be any more heavy handed than this. He went and donated blood! And Geralt let him pay for their meal! He’s not sure how he can get across the point any better that he’s a talking blood bag, and he’s open for business.

Jaskier heaves a gigantic sigh and resolves to go home and plot his next move.

Maybe Geralt’s just shy.

Well. Jaskier can work with that

-

Geralt’s weekend passes in its normal fashion. He goes for a run, drinks some blood out of his supply in the fridge, then crashes on the couch for a whole day while he thinks of anything other than work. Sometimes Eskel lets himself in using his key, but he doesn’t that weekend, and Geralt crosses his arms over his chest as he tortures himself thinking of what Eskel might be doing.

Eskel’s never had problems making friends, unlike Geralt, so he’s sure he’s out having a good time with them.

Geralt used to be good at making friends, gods damn it, before all of them died of old age and he just didn’t see the point anymore. He’s come to suppose that there’s not all that much of a point in immortality if all he does is work, though.

The weekend’s over just as quickly as it began, and on Monday night, he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face when Jaskier texts him about some inane thing he noticed. Was he thinking of Geralt? That’s...nice.

Cautiously, Geralt lets himself hope that something is going to come out of this.

But first, he needs to tell Jaskier he’s a vampire. He wouldn’t be the first person to run away screaming, even though they are much more accepted now than they used to be.

Geralt shudders as he thinks of the industrial revolution. No regard for any monsters then. Humans invent light bulbs, and all of a sudden they think they’re too good for a healthy dash of respect.

Geralt looks back down at his phone, at a music video Jaskier sent him of someone playing a singing saw.

He lets himself focus on that a while.

-

Wednesday creeps around, and with it, Geralt’s weekly meeting.

He takes his spot in his customary chair, and looks around for Lambert, ignoring the look Eskel is trying to burn through the side of his face with.

“Why do I have to be here, again?” Geralt asks, when he gives up on Lambert to come save him.

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s an argument they’ve had more than once. “If you won’t become a sponsor, you have to at least show them that things get better.”

Geralt huffs a breath out through his nose as he watches the regulars file in. There’s one new person, and Geralt eyes her curiously. She looks a little terrified, and Geralt softens in sympathy.

The meeting starts, and they go around in the circle, the seat beside Geralt still empty in Lambert’s tardiness.

“Hi, I’m Geralt, and I’m a blood addict,” he drones when it’s his turn.

When they’ve moved on to their personal struggles for the week, Lambert finally appears, dropping into his chair.

He elbows Geralt, seemingly unaware of everyone staring at them.

“Hey, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Geralt firmly fixes a scowl in place and ignores him. He’s not sure why he even wanted Lambert to show up in the first place.

Geralt leans back in his chair, crossing his arms as he listens to everyone else, Eskel being disgustingly reassuring to them all, as per usual. Geralt stamps the jealousy down. It’s not Eskel’s fault he’s so good with people.

The meeting drags by, and when it’s finally over, Lambert doesn’t let Geralt just sneak away. He digs his elbow into his side again, holding Geralt by the shoulder. “You didn’t answer me earlier. What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I’m not,” Geralt says.

Lambert hums. “You don’t have your usual storm cloud above your head, so I’m going to count it.”

Geralt scowls at him and looks at Eskel for back up, but Eskel just raises his eyebrows at him.

“I hate you both,” Geralt grumbles.

“You love us,” Lambert says.

“Fine. I made a new friend,” he grates out.

Lambert and Eskel exchange an insufferable look.

“What?” Geralt demands.

“You, make a friend? Well, we’re just going to have to hear all about this to believe it.”

Geralt huffs, but he tells them about Jaskier.

“He took you to dinner? And paid? And you think he wants to be just friends?” Lambert asks.

Geralt flaps his hands around and hisses, “Look, I’ve barely been anywhere that isn’t here or work in the last three decades, how am I supposed to keep up with all this human nonsense? And besides, I haven’t even told him I’m a vampire yet. I’ll be lucky if he even wants to be my friend after that.”

Eskel bites his lip. “You know that’s a turn on for some humans, right?”

“What?”

“And you said he scraped his knee the first time he saw you? Geralt, I think he already knows, and he’s just trying to get in your pants.”

Geralt deflates. That makes a twisted sort of sense. “Oh.”

Lambert punches him in the arm. “Hey, lighten up. If anyone can charm him with their stunning personality, it’s you.”

“Fuck off.”

-

It’s difficult to fall asleep that night.

-

A week goes by without him answering any of Jaskier’s texts. He still painstakingly reads and savors each one, but he can’t bring himself to reply. If he was looking for some sort of...fling, he would have gone on one of those apps Eskel keeps telling him about.

As pathetic as it sounds, he could really use a friend. And if sex came later, well, Geralt wouldn’t complain, but he just desperately needs someone who’s going to stick around. He needs someone just for himself, someone outside of Lambert and Eskel who isn’t going to tease him about every little thing.

Geralt sighs. This was at least good practice. Maybe he can try again with someone else.

His heart sinks at the thought. He doesn’t really want someone else. Jaskier wormed his way into his chest in just a week, and Geralt knows he could yank him out with only a little pain if he tried, he doesn’t want to.

Geralt wants to have something nice, for once.

-

Jaskier bites his lip as he peers out the car window at Geralt’s house. He’s half scared there’s not going to be an answer when he knocks, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do then. He thought their date went swimmingly, so he’s not sure why Geralt suddenly stopped answering him unless something happened.

Jaskier has a vision of getting into the house only to find Geralt on the floor, the only way to revive him being letting Geralt drink straight from his neck, obviously leading to Geralt ravishing him against the nearest wall.

Jaskier shakes himself like a dog. Geralt’s given him no interest in anything like that at all. Maybe he needs to lower his expectations. The dude seems lonely, anyway, so maybe he just wants someone to talk to that’s not one of his coworkers.

Geralt told him he’s an actuary, and from the questions he asked of Geralt and Geralt didn’t answer, he’s not convinced that Geralt talks to his coworkers at all.

Jaskier blows out a puff of breath as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. He’s not sure what he hopes is going to happen when he opens the door.

He walks up the door and knocks.

He waits an agonizing moment before the door swings open, revealing Geralt. He looks even paler than Jaskier remembered him, wearing a pair of sweatpants with a hole in the crotch that he can see Geralt’s plaid boxers through and a t-shirt with a collar that’s outrageously stretched. Jaskier swallows hard.

“Have you considered not oiling the hinges? I think it would do you a world of good to develop a creaky door aesthetic.”

Geralt’s forehead wrinkles adorably. “What?”

“Just, you know. Being a vampire and all.”

Geralt slumps against the door frame. “How long have you known?”

Now it’s Jaskier’s turn to be confused. “Known what?”

“That I’m a vampire!”

“Oh.” Jaskier pauses. “I didn’t think it was a secret.”

Geralt’s hand pauses in its path of trailing the wood grain of the door. “Do you have a...kink?” he spits.

Jaskier raises his hands. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

Geralt fixes him with an unconvinced look.

“Look, that might have been part of the initial intrigue, but—”

Geralt raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“But, you’re really fucking hot and also possibly the most boring person I know, but...I’m into it. You know all these weird facts and—gods know I could use a little stability in my life.”

Geralt gives him a bashful smile, and Jaskier wonders if anyone has said anything nice to him at some point this century. “Yeah?”

Jaskier leans across the threshold and cups Geralt’s face with his hands, their mouths a breath apart. “Yeah.”

[aquaticrunner]

Modern Academic Rivals to Lovers | Edmund x Reader

Request by @generalblizzarddreamer : Hey love! I don't know if you're inspired to write Narnia right now but could I have academic rivals to lovers with Edmund Pevensie? Maybe Edmund could be a law student and the reader is a journalism major? Thanks so much if you do it! | Word count: 2.9K

A/N: I did not mean for this to come out so long but I loved the idea and just kinda ran with it. I hope you like it! I had a lot of fun writing it. I’m so sorry it took so long but I’m finally out of school so I’m catching up on all my requests.

I stood up from the small desk I was sitting at in the university library and stretched my arms up above my head. I’d been sitting at this desk for at least two hours and still felt like I hadn’t made much progress on my project. I decided to go searching for some more sources and scanned the section closest to me. A book title on the top shelf caught my eye and I reached my hand up to grab it. Just as my fingers brushed the spine of the book, another hand reached over and swiped it. “Hey!” I shouted, immediately cringing at the loudness of my voice in the quiet library. I looked over at the thief who had taken my book. The guy seemed familiar like maybe we’d had a few classes together. He had dark, curly hair that had grown past his ears and an easy smile that probably made most people melt. 

“Hey yourself.” He said, chuckling as he started to walk away. I bit the side of my cheek in frustration and made the impulsive decision to follow him. “Excuse me, but I need that book.”

He stopped walking and smirked at me. Despite how attractive this boy was, it infuriated me. “Well, so do I.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I saw it first and there’s only one copy.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You saw it first? What is this, primary school?”

“Seriously? Just give me the book.”

I could see the smile in his eyes as he just looked at me and said, “No.” Then he turned around and walked away again.

I decided not to follow him this time and walked back to my desk, fuming the whole way there. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious guy I’d ever met and I didn’t even know his name. I tried to focus on my project again but gave up after about 30 minutes. I packed up my stuff and walked back to my dorm. When I made it back, I checked the time on my phone. It was only 8:15. Too early to go to sleep. I scrolled through the contacts on my phone until I saw my best friend’s name. I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear. She answered after the first ring and asked what was up. “Do you wanna go out?”

I woke up the next morning with a slight headache and my mouth dry. I picked up the water bottle that I keep beside my bed but it was empty. I sighed and stood up. I ventured into my small kitchen area and filled up the bottle in the sink. As I drank the water, my mind drifted back to last night. My friend, Valerie, and I had gone to a small club and stayed out till about midnight. I had pretty much gotten over my encounter with that guy at the library. I looked at the clock at the wall and cursed when I realized that it was almost 7:30. I only had 15 minutes to get ready for my morning class. I threw on some jeans and a t-shirt and brushed my teeth. I rushed out the door, barely checking to see if I had the right notebook. I walked as fast as I could to the humanities building and breathed a sigh of relief when I made it with 3 minutes to spare. I took a seat in the front row where I always did and smiled at the boy that always sits next to me. I opened my backpack and grabbed my notebook, thankful that it was the right one. I opened the notebook to a blank page and sat a pencil next to it. I was waiting for the professor to walk in when someone else caught my eye. It was the boy from the library! So we do have a class together, I thought. I waited for him to see me but his eyes stayed focused on his path and he sat down in the middle row. I turned my head quickly in case he saw me looking at him. 

The professor walked in a minute later and I tried to refocus my mind on what he was teaching. This class was already boring to me. I knew that research and writing were important, but this class felt almost too basic. As the professor talked my mind drifted to the boy sitting behind me. I wondered if he had noticed me yet, if he was as bored as I was, or if he was paying attention and didn’t notice me at all. 

“Does anyone know the answer?” I was snapped out of my thoughts when the professor addressed the class and averted my eyes, hoping he wouldn’t call on me. “Anyone at all?”

“A research question is focused, complex, and arguable.” My eyes widened when I realized it was the boy from last night.

“Yes that is correct, Mr… ?”

“Pevensie, sir. Edmund Pevensie.”

The professor nodded and went back to lecturing. My eyes stayed glued to the boy, Edmund. His eyes snapped to mine and heat immediately rushed to my cheeks and I turned back to my notebook. Now he’s going to think I’m obsessed with him.

When the professor dismissed class after what felt like forever, I threw my stuff in my bag and rushed out of my seat. I made it out the door and thought I was clear and my path was blocked. “Excuse me.” I said, trying to get past.

“Avoiding someone?” His voice burned into my soul and I jumped back.

“No. I just have somewhere to be.” My eyes drifted up his chest as I leaned up to meet his eyes.

The corner of his mouth ticked up and he narrowed his eyes at me. “Right. I’m Edmund by the way. Figured I should introduce myself after you called me a thief.”

I rolled my eyes. “You are a thief. And I heard your name. Everyone in class did.”

This time, he smiled completely. “So…?”

I looked at him, unsure of what he was wanting. “So what?”

He stared at me blankly as if he was trying to figure out if I really didn’t know or if I was messing with him. “Your name?”

“Oh. It’s Y/N.” I don’t know why it surprised me that he wanted my name. Was he trying to be friends or something?

“Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N.” And with that he turned and walked away. Why is he always doing that?

I rolled my eyes as he left and walked back to my dorm, throwing my bag down in the living room. My roommate, Elle, walked out and raised her eyebrows at me. “Someone’s in a foul mood.”

“I am not!” I shouted defensively. She just looked at me and my shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I met this guy and he’s a total jerk.”

Her eyes lit up immediately. “You met a guy?”

“Seriously? That was not the important part of that sentence.”

She laughed. “Well I can’t remember the last time you said the words “met a guy.”” She said, using air quotes around my words. 

I sighed and walked into my room, looking over my schedule for the day. I had one more class and a club meeting later that day. 

“Hey would you wanna grab lunch before my next class?” I asked her, walking back into the living room.

She shrugged, “Sure. I have nothing better to do.”

We ate in the campus cafeteria and I went to my corporate communication class. Now I was on my way to one of the meeting rooms on campus for a debate club meeting. It was my first time joining a club and I was definitely nervous. 

I walked up the stairs of the building and into the room that was on the announcement. A tall girl greeted me at the door with a large smile. “Hi! Are you here to join the debate team?” Her enthusiasm was almost scary but I smiled back and nodded as she handed me an instruction packet. “Great! Feel free to sit anywhere.” I thanked her and took a seat near the middle. Normally I liked to sit in the front but I was a little too nervous tonight.

I looked around for anyone I might know and noticed a familiar boy with dark, curly hair. You have to be kidding me. Ever since our interaction at the library Edmund seemed to be everywhere I was.

He was busy talking to a group of kids at the back of the room. He caught my eye and waved at me with a smirk on his face. I clenched my jaw and turned back around, facing the front of the room.

The girl who greeted me when I walked in had now moved to stand behind a small podium. She cleared her throat to catch everyone’s attention and I sat up a little straighter in my chair. She spent the next hour describing what the debate club was like, our meeting schedule, and how often we attend competitions. “Now there is a sign-up sheet being passed around. Please write your name and phone number on the sheet.” She handed the clipboard with the sheet on it to the boy on my left and he handed it to me when he was done. I wrote what she instructed and passed it to my right, not paying attention to who was beside me. Once everyone was done she announced that the meeting was over and we would receive a message for our next meeting time. I sighed and stood following the small crowd out the door.

“Hey Y/N!” I looked to see who was calling my name and of course it was Edmund. 

I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard him, but he caught up to me almost immediately. “Hey, I didn’t know you were interested in debate.”

I shrugged, “Well you don’t really know that much about me at all.”

He put his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “Ouch. You wound me.”

I smiled condescendingly. “I try.”

“You don’t like me, do you?” He asked.

“I don’t have any feelings toward you.” I said in response.

“Riiight. Is this about the book?” 

I sighed. “No. I don’t care about some stupid book. Look, it's late and I have to go. Bye.”

I walked away from him and headed back to my dorm for the night, trying to concentrate on my project. 

The rest of the week went by quickly with limited interactions between Edmund and me. Finally, it was Friday and I was ready to take a break. However, before I did that I needed to buckle down and finish the project that I had been procrastinating. I packed my stuff up and drove to the library. I spent hours there and by the time I finished, it was dark outside. I packed my stuff up and stopped by the vending machine on my way out. I reached the doors and pushed, but was surprised when they didn’t open. I pushed again and started to get nervous when they still didn’t open. Maybe there’s another exit. I walked away from the doors and searched the perimeter of the library looking for another set of doors. When I didn’t find any, I walked to the center of the library where the help desk was located. “Hello?” I said, hoping someone would answer me.

I heard a voice from behind me, “Please don’t tell me we’re locked in here.” I cringed, knowing who it was going to be before I even turned around.

I slowly turned to face him. “It’s starting to look that way.”

“Do you have your phone?” He asked me.

“No. I leave it in my car when I’m studying. Don’t you have one?” I asked, crossing my arms defensively.

He waved it in front of me, looking annoyed. “It’s dead.”

I wanted to bang my head against a wall. “Great,” I said sarcastically. 

“Maybe we can use the library phone?” He suggested and I nodded, walking around to the other side of the desk.

I picked it up and attempted to dial a number. Instead of hearing the phone ringing, all I heard was constant beeping. I groaned when I read the inscription at the bottom of the phone. 

Edmund leaned over. “What is it?”

“This phone only connects to other phones in the building. No one else is going to be here at this hour.”

“Well, guess we better make ourselves comfortable.” He took a seat on one of the couches and propped his feet up on a nearby table.

I took a deep breath and sat down in a chair across from the couch. 

He stared at me from across the table and I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. “Why are you looking at me?” I finally asked.

He shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out why you don’t like me.”

“By staring at me?”

Edmund laughed and I felt the tension in my shoulders ease just a bit.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” He asked me.

I bit my lip nervously. This is going to be a long night. “I never said I didn’t like you.”

“So you’re acting like this because you do like me.”

“No!”

“So you’re rude to everyone?”

“I am not rude! I don’t dislike you. I just have no interest in talking to you.” I finally said.

“Why not? I’m hilarious.” 

I snorted in response. “I doubt that.”

“You’re judging me based on one interaction. That hardly seems fair.” He said. I looked away, not wanting to admit that he might be right.

“Well it was one rude interaction. First impressions matter.” I said in my defense.

“Okay, well I’m sorry I took the book you wanted. I needed it for a project.”

“So did I.”

He laughed, but it sounded dry. “Whatever.”

I bit my lip, guilt starting to settle in my stomach. Maybe I had judged him too harshly.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have judged you so fast. Maybe we could be friends?” I asked.

He half-smiled and I felt slightly relieved. “We can be friends.”

I smiled at him for what felt like the first time and he smiled back.

“Let’s play twenty questions.” He said, sitting up suddenly.

“What?”

“Twenty questions. I ask you a question and then you ask me one.” 

I curled my hair around my finger nervously. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You can ask me first.”

I sighed, knowing there was nothing else to do anyway. “Fine. What’s your major?”

Edmund laughed. “Okay, starting off easy. I’m pre-law. What’s yours?”

“Journalism.” He nodded, and I sat for a moment, thinking of my next question. “What’s your family like?”

Edmund smiled and his fondness for them was written clearly all over his face. “I have two sisters and a brother. Lucy and I are the youngest and then Susan and Peter. We’re all really close. I don’t get to see them as often as I like but we text all the time.”

I smiled, surprised at such a genuine response. He cleared his throat and then asked his next question. “What’s your favorite food?”

I laughed and tried to think of a genuine answer. “Pizza. Yours?”

Edmund thought for a moment. “I love anything sweet. Why are you majoring in journalism?”

“Well… I’d like to have an impact on the world. I like discovering the truth and telling real stories. Why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“To defend those who can’t defend themselves, obviously.” He said, jokingly.

I laughed again and thought of my next question. Edmund and I spent the rest of the night talking and laughing. I had seriously misjudged him. He was actually very pleasant to be around. Eventually, we fell asleep and when the librarian woke us up the next morning I was embarrassed to find that Edmund and I had moved together in our sleep. The librarian apologized profusely for not checking before she locked up and then Edmund and I were on our way out of the library.

He walked me to my car and I grabbed his arm before he turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He looked at me curiously. “For what?”

“For making last night a little better. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been locked in by myself.” In a moment of bravery, I leaned forward and hugged him.

Edmund hugged back and I could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his heart beating in his chest.

I leaned back slowly and Edmund kept his arms around me.

“Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

I nodded and Edmund leaned forward, immediately capturing my lips with his. The kiss was passionate and I could’ve sworn I saw literal sparks. I wasn’t sure how long it lasted but I was sure it wasn’t long enough. He leaned his forehead against mine and I smiled at the closeness.

“Do you want to go out tonight?” He asked me.

“I would love to.”

He kissed me on the cheek then began to walk back to his car. 

“Hey Edmund!” I called. He turned back to face me. “Thanks for stealing my book.” A smile broke out on his gorgeous face and I couldn’t help but smile back. “Anytime.”

[effeminateboyninja]

Icha Icha Shika Shika

(Shikamaru x fem!reader) // 2.1k words

you find a copy of Make-Out Paradise under your boyfriend's mattress and teasing ensues. inspired by @beneathstarryskies’s nsfw alphabet ✨

The early morning sun shone through the window, illuminating tiny dust motes that floated through the air above the bed where you rested contentedly. Through the open door of the next room you could hear the pitter-patter of the shower running as Shikamaru got ready for his day. The blankets felt so warm and cozy. Your boyfriend’s bed always seemed to be more comfortable than your own and if you could you would’ve stayed the whole day snuggled up under its covers, but a quick glance over at the clock on the bedside table decided it was probably time for you to get up too. So with a yawn and a stretch you rose groggily and assessed the mess of linens left behind. Shikamaru never bothered to make his bed, he said it was “too troublesome” considering he’d just mess it up again the next night so you knew you could leave it if you wanted and just go join him in the shower, but something compelled you to stay back and tidy it up.

You threw all the blankets and pillows onto the floor and moved to fix the sheets that had been pulled out of place. Lifting the corner of the mattress to readjust the fitted sheet, your hand bumped into a small object. Curious, you felt around and took hold of what you could now tell was a small paperback and retrieved it from its hiding place.

At the sight of the familiar orange cover your mouth fell open and a shocked gasp escaped your lips before morphing into an excited giggle. You flipped open the front cover and the words inside made your glorious find all the better. First Edition, followed by a scribbled autograph. This was too good.

Several minutes later you sat dressed and ready on the freshly made bed, legs crossed and waiting expantly when Shikamaru walked through the door, ruffling his damp hair with a towel.

“Thanks for making the bed. You didn’t have to,” he reminded you, throwing the towel in the hamper and pulling his hair back into an elastic.

“I know,” you replied simply.

Finally noticing the mischievous smile you wore his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s that look for? You’re never this happy to get up in the morning.” He was right, usually he had to drag you out of bed dangerously close to when you had to be at work, but today was different for obvious reasons.

You giggled a bit and sighed dramatically, “Oh, I know. But today I woke up to quite the pleasant surprise.”

Then you pulled the book from behind your back and waved it at him with a teasing smirk. His face fell and he went white as the sheets you’d found your little treasure in as he began stumbling over his words to explain himself.

Finally, you broke down and the laugh that you’d been holding back bubbled forth from your lips to interrupt his frantic stammering, “I didn’t know you were a fan of Icha Icha babe, why didn’t you tell me?”

The pale of his cheeks was replaced with a deep blush and his face scrunched up in an embarrassed grimace. “I swear I only read it once!”

“Oh really?” you snickered, “‘cause it seems uh, pretty well-loved.” You flipped through the yellowed pages and ran your finger over the broken spine.

He rushed over to your place on the bed and tried to grab the book from your hands but you held him at arm’s length and raised the precious blackmail above your head, still giggling wildly.

“I swear it’s not mine!” he stressed, grasping desperately for the book. “I stole it from Kakashi when I was still a genin... I knew it was a dirty book and I was just curious, okay?”

The confession left his mouth and you stopped dodging his pursuit, allowing him to grab hold of the book and stuff it in his back pocket. For a brief second you were speechless until the disbelief was replaced by amusement and raucous laughter shook its way out of your chest.

“Of course you did!”

“Hey! You should be glad I read this, you know?” he protested, moving to stuff it back in it’s hiding place under the mattress. “I learned a lot from it.”

A light pink crept over your cheeks at his suggestive words, thinking back to the skillful way his hands explored your body, but you recovered quickly.

“I thought you only read it once, hmm?”

He rolled his eyes and pulled you off the bed to lead you to the door, “Oh shh. C’mon you need to get ready.” You just smirked again and let him lead you out of the bedroom to start your day.

A few hours later you were working in the Hokage’s office with your boyfriend and Kakashi, sitting across from the desk reading recent mission reports before handing them off to Shikamaru who would stamp them and then place them in front of his boss to finalize. At this point had absorbed himself in his work enough to forget about the embarrassing encounter from the morning and looked about as bored as you felt with the mundane task.

Like always, the masked Hokage had a copy of Icha Icha in one hand that he read while signing the papers that Shikamaru continuously shoved in front of him absentmindedly. Your eyes ran over the simple green cover and a devious idea sprouted in your mind. Placing the mission reports on your lap and looking up to face the older man you spoke, voice cutting across the steady breathing of your companions and the soft shuffling of papers.

“Kakashi sensei,” you opted for the less formal address that he preferred to soften him up, “you’re always reading those Make-Out series books.”

He glanced up from his page and raised his eyebrows, preparing to once again be teased for his reading tastes, but he wasn’t the target of your practical joke. Meanwhile, your actual target had noticed the intention behind your question and was shooting you a tense warning glance from over Kakashi’s shoulder. One that you ignored.

“You’ve liked them since we were genin right?”

He nodded in response, a curious expression painted over his features as he tried to parse your intentions.

“Wow. Very dedicated,” you went on, a deathly serious look on your face. “Say, do you have any first edition copies? Since you’re such a big fan and all. I bet they’re worth a whole lot now considering they were written by one of the legendary Sannin.” You leaned forward and placed your chin in your hand, putting on a convincing show of genuine interest. Behind the older man Shikamaru’s eyes were wide and he mimicked a cutting motion across his neck, pleading with you to stop talking.

Relieved you weren’t going to tease him for the content of his favourite series the copy ninja’s expression softened and a smile formed under his mask. “You know, I used to actually!” he replied eagerly, “but I lost it a long time ago. Which is unfortunate because it was actually signed by master Jiraiya himself.”

He looked off wistfully, mourning the loss of his precious book and you feigned shock, “Wow how unfortunate. Maybe you should ask your advisor about that,” you shot the black-haired man behind him a quick smirk before continuing, “He’s a smart guy. He might be able to help you out.”

The look Shikamaru gave you said exactly what he couldn’t, his dark eyes narrowed threateningly and his lips pursing in a tight frown; you were going to get it when you both got home tonight. But that was fine, you were having far too much to think about the consequences. Besides, punishment with Shika always ended up being more pleasure than pain anyway.

The confused Hokage’s eyes darted between the two of you as he realized your line of questioning had a motive besides an interest in his super-fan behaviour. And as they examined the pained expression clear on his young colleague’s face a look of understanding slowly dawned on his own.

“Oh really?”

Shikamaru went beet red, letting out an awkward chuckle and looking like a schoolboy caught peeping at the hot spring as he met his superior’s amused gaze. Kakashi turned back to you with a knowing smirk.

“I’m getting tired of signing mission reports,” he sighed, “getting to the bottom of this little mystery sounds like a good way to clear my mind. (Y/n), you can take the afternoon off if you want. I’ll keep your boyfriend though if you don’t mind, I need his help.”

The corner of your lip pulled upwards and you rose from your seat, setting the remaining reports on the desk in front of you. Thank god Kakashi was such a good sport. Then as you moved towards the door to leave, feeling quite satisfied with yourself, you shot one last glance at your embarrassed boyfriend who was grinning sheepishly at the man at the desk.

Mission accomplished, you thought to yourself with a chuckle as you walked down the hall and back home

******

Back at your apartment you decided to reward yourself for your good work by spending the afternoon doing your favourite thing — absolutely nothing. After all those reports and such a well-executed prank you figured you deserved a little break. So you grabbed a tub of ice cream from the freezer, slumped back on the couch and turned on your favourite show before practically melting back into the cushions and becoming one with the furniture for the next few hours.

By the time the evening rolled around the ice cream container was sitting empty on the coffee table in front of you and small snores escaped as your chest rose and fell with each breath. You woke at the sound of keys rattling at the door and stretched out groggily, a smile creeping across your lips as you prepared to face Shikamaru.

He slipped through the door, tossed his things down beside the door and assessed the lazy scene on the couch.

“Don’t you look comfortable.”

“Ah yes, I’ve had a great day,” you replied impishly, stretching out on the sofa and showing off the make-shift nest you’d created there. You expected him to chastise you and tell you about how awkward the afternoon he had was, roll his eyes at least.

But instead to your surprise, he returned your smirk, catching you off guard. He revelled in the way your smug expression fell into something resembling bewilderment, quite proud that he’d managed to turn the tables on you and remarked, “You know, thanks to you, I actually did too.”

Your brow furrowed in frustration. What did he mean he had a great day? You were looking forward to hearing about Kakashi’s reaction. He took in your adorable pout and it was his turn to laugh. He threw his head back and his shoulders bounced with the sound and shot you a look of faux sympathy before moving towards the bedroom.

“Sorry babe, your plan didn’t work,” he continued, still chucking to himself.

Indignant, you rose from your seat and followed him in the room. “What do you mean ‘it didn’t work’?” you demanded, hands propped on your hips as you stared at him frustrated from the door.

He cocked his head to the side and faked a pout. “Aw, is someone disappointed they couldn’t embarrass me in front of my boss?” he cooed.

“Oh, you were definitely embarrassed,” you assured him, remembering the deep red that dusted his cheeks.

He just guffawed, “Maybe at first,” his feet moved to close the distance between your bodies, and your heart began to beat fast as his intense eyes met yours, a playful glint clear in their surface, “but you forget that Kakashi and I get along quite well.”

Then, with a look of pure mischief he pulled something from his back pocket and wagged it tauntingly in front of you.

God damn it Kakashi, you cursed the silver-haired man internally at the recognition of the small, green item in Shika’s hand. It was his book. The one he’d been reading earlier in the office that same day — Make-Out Tactics. Your face fell in shock and the Nara man’s smile increased tenfold, a satisfied laugh escaping his lips once more as he stepped towards you again, leaving just inches between your faces.

You could feel his breath on your face when he whispered the next words, “Troublesome woman,” he tsk’d, catching your chin in his strong hand and caressing it gently, “what are we going to do with you?”

You swallowed deeply and shrugged, resolve quickly replaced by the desire that pooled in your stomach, causing him to chuckle softly. He loved how quickly he could take you from the confident, strong-willed person he fell in love with to putty in his capable hands.

“Luckily for us,” he went on, “there’s lots of ideas in here,” he tapped the cover of the book and met your gaze seductively, “for how to deal with you.”

For a second you began to regret trying to outsmart your genius boyfriend, but at his next words the remorse was replaced by excitement.

“Bed. Now.”

You followed his instructions without hesitation, jumping on the mattress eagerly and he smirked, flipping open to a page halfway through the book he held.

“I think we’ll start with this scene…”

[ichigoromi]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 | 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧🔞🔞🔞

Gojo Satoru is one sexy man. His arrogance may be annoying, but I must say a confident man is sure charming.

I don't normally write 🔞headcanon because my page is normally a fluff blog with a tiny bit of angst, but I want to try something new once in a while.

This is going to be a 🔞headcanon, so I'm going to bold my warnings.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem reader (using she/her pronouns)

WARNING (S): SUGGESTIVE LANGUAGE, MINORS DNI, CONSENSUAL UNPROTECTED SEX, LOTS OF HORNY GOJO, I WARN THE MINORS OF MY PAGE, DO NOT INTERACT. M18. SOME FLUFF. SMUT.

Okay, 18 and above, please proceed.

Gojo Satoru

It was meant to be only a one night stand.

But this little steamy rendezvous between you and Satoru has been ongoing for a little too long, like maybe a few years?

You two were perfect for each other, just looking to fill each other needs and no commitments.

Only Shoko knows about you two because she accidentally walked in on Satoru going down on you in the infirmary.

You were mostly out for missions, but when you are in town, you are in Satoru's apartment or his room whenever you two are free.

Using the spare time you two have, you guys go at it for hours.

When you are gone for a little too long, the sex usually is better because he is more desperate and hornier.

The higher-ups were suspicious that you and Satoru have a relationship, so they send you away for overseas missions for three months.

Oh, those three months were agonising for Satoru the most, somehow, he got addicted to you, and other girls just don't satisfy him anymore.

Plus, you make delicious desserts that he can't get enough other you.

It was not easy for you, but you two would facetime or call whenever you can and have phone sex or facetime sex.

Shoko was there to pick you up when you came back from your missions early.

She sends you to the hospital to collect your birth controls since you ran out, so she booked you an appointment for you.

It was rather quick since you are going to get a refill of your previous prescription.

Once you are done, you two head back to Jujutsu High.

You went and report back to the higher-ups about your missions and submitted all the written reports.

After you finished the administrative matters, you went to take a shower in Satoru's room and head down to the kitchen to make a strawberry shortcake.

When Satoru is back from his mission, he noticed that a certain blue shirt from his closet is gone, and the familiar flora scent is back.

He took a shower and head down to the kitchen, and there you were.

Making desserts looking like a whole 8-course meal.

He swiftly makes his way to you and wraps his arms around you from behind.

You almost drop it but set it down so you can properly greet him with a kiss.

That kiss leads to a full-blown makeout session on the kitchen counter.

You had to pull away from him so that you could put the cake in the fridge to chill so that you two can enjoy it later. You put a note on the cover to inform them to not touch it.

After that, Satoru carried you back to his room to take that sweet body of yours that he missed dearly.

He couldn't even reach the bed, and you two starts kissing, with him pinning you on the door.

Satoru easily slips his tongue into your mouth and playfully sucks while you were getting really horny.

He loves your whines and your moans. It's like music to his ears.

You palm his bulge through his sweats, and he moans in your ear, and you sneakily slip your hand into his underwear, man. You defeated the poor man.

He humps into your tiny hand, forcefully took out your hand, and rips off the blue dress shirt you were wearing.

You wore matching black lace lingerie and officially broke Gojo Satoru.

He expertly unhooks your bra and yeet that shit away. Satoru dives down to your plump bosom and sucks your nipples depends on it.

Sensing that you were getting a little uncomfortable in the position, he carried you to his bed, and that is where the real fun starts.

You slip out of your panty with his help, and man, he is hungry for some pussy juice.

He sucked the soul out of you and did not waste a single drop.

You had to return the favour.

Grabbing one of the hair ties by the bedside table, you wrapped your hair in a bun and went down on him. It starts with slow strokes and deep sucking; oh, he loves deep throating you until you choke on his cum.

Satoru was going to do you until the sun rises.

He was leaving no mercy for you, and you almost choke on his cum, but you manage to breathe.

Satoru pin you down and slides into your wet ass pussy, and both of you moan in bliss when he enters you.

He is pistoning in and out of you like a machine gun, but when he was about to pull out, you told him to cum in you.

Babe, he is not done with one round. Bless your legs and your pussy tomorrow.

You and Satoru went on it for hours, non-stop coming, and you couldn't stop yourself; you want to go over your limit.

For the last round, he let you ride on top, and you were giving your all, and he too was looking forward to marking you and overstimulate you.

While you riding him, you felt him sucking on your skin, marking you all over, but you couldn't care less; now, it's about you and him. Who cares about little love bites?

After you two are done, Satoru pulls out and carries you to the bathroom so you can wash up first, and he can put on new sheets.

You run a warm bath, cleaning all the fresh cum and dried cum off your body and massaging your sore muscles as well. That was one intense workout.

After cleaning up yourself, you head to the bed, where the bed was cleaned already. You head to bed first while Satoru goes to wash up too.

Satoru immediately cuddles you after he cleans up, and you two fall into a deep slumber.

Gojo felt two tiny hands squished his cheeks together, and he opened his eyes slightly to find the adorable and sexy friend of his pouting at him.

The shirt that he lends her was sliding off her shoulder, revealing her collarbone marked by him. Then he smirks, remembering last night.

"You idiot! I'm going to kill you!" You grab his collar and starts shaking him.

"Doesn't it look pretty?" He smirks smugly at you, and you almost strangled him.

"PRETTY?! GOJO! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

...

Shoko held in her laughter as you and Gojo enter the conference room at the same time. You sat down beside her, and she smirks at the turtleneck that you are wearing.

The Kyoto counterpart were all there, and it was a surprise to them to see you coming in with Gojo. You two were known for being not having the best relationship since you guys were teenagers.

You fanned yourself slightly since the weather wasn't the coolest, and Shoko gawked at the love bites.

"Damn, you two went hard last night, huh?" She commented, and you glared at Gojo, who just smiled widely at you.

You focus on the meeting, and everything went smoothly until Gojo decided to display some affection openly.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to you as you two made your way to the cafeteria. Obviously, nobody expected that, and then they noticed the love bites on your neck when Gojo pulls down your turtleneck.

"Can you stop? These are going to last for months on my beautiful, flawless skin! Months I say!" You frowned, and he leaned his chin on your shoulders as he hugs you from the back.

"Hmm, should we start dating? We have been together for three years already; shouldn't we be counted as boyfriend and girlfriend?" He asked you, and you turn around to face him.

"Eh? Are you asking me out? The mighty Gojo Satoru is asking me out?" You pull on his cheeks, and he pulls down his blindfold so that you can see his eyes.

Those very eyes that you hate and love.

"Hmm, I have to think about it. See you!" You pecked his lips and ran off.

"Think about it? I have been waiting for three years, and you still want me to wait? Oi, come back, baby!"

Oh my gosh! I still can't believe I wrote smut... I mean, I'm legal but why does it feel so illegal? I hope you guys had fun reading this headcanon! Thank you for reading!

Stay safe and healthy!

With love,

Rosalie🍓