#the language in this is just...the sounds!

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Spooky Call.

Spencer Reid x Hotchner!reader

Summary: When your boyfriend gets a call from you, the last thing he expects to hear is that you're being held at a police station for decorating your house.

Words: 2,2k.

TW: fem!reader. mention of haley's death, jack, crime, murder, blood (fake). reader was arrested (obviously). implication that the reader is wearing jeans and shirt (not very descriptive). reader is hotch's sister. established relationship. spencer being the standard. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: This was the last fic of my october special, but I had problems and never posted it, so I had to change the plot a bit and here it is.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

You’ve always hated asking for help. It wasn’t just a matter of pride—it was the belief that you could, and should, handle everything yourself. Life, however, had a cruel way of reminding you that it didn’t always work like that. Everyone needs help sometimes. At least, that’s what people—well-meaning friends, family, even your boyfriend—kept telling you. We live in a society; there are people who love you; they’d want to help, they’d say. Blah, blah, blah. The sentiment was kind, sure, but it never stuck with you. Not really.

Today, though, maybe you should’ve listened.

All you wanted was to throw your nephew a belated Halloween party. It wasn’t like you were planning anything crazy. Just a few decorations, some music, and a bit of creativity—how hard could it be? Nothing about it seemed complicated or dangerous, not at first. You’d seen your brother overwhelmed trying to keep things normal for Jack, and you figured this was something you could handle on your own. Something small but meaningful.

Somehow, things got out of your control, and now you were sitting in your boyfriend's car in the police station parking lot trying to organize your thoughts to explain to him how you had ended up arrested in the first place.

“This has a perfectly reasonable and not at all criminal explanation. I swear.” You began to speak as you noticed by the watch on his wrist that three minutes of complete silence had already passed.

It had only been a year since you started dating officially, and there were still some things you were afraid Spencer would see, especially the things that got you in trouble for doing stupid things. You'd liked him for a long time, even before he realized you could be more than just his friend and his boss's sister. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin everything and make him run away in terror, even though that didn't sound very much like him or his values.

“This better be a good explanation,” Reid finally said, his voice calm but tinged with confusion. He placed the car keys down in the cupholder and turned to look at you fully. “Because right now, I’m struggling to understand how decorating your house could get you arrested.”

You squirmed in your seat, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. “It’s…complicated,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. That was the only thing that kept repeating in your mind.

“I’m sure it is,” he finally said, his tone dry but still patient, his gaze never wavering.

You exhaled sharply, dragging your hands down your face. “Okay. So, I started with simple decorations—some cobwebs, pumpkins, and all the usual stuff. But it just…it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do something big. Something really cool.”

He raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.

“So, I got this idea,” you said, hesitating. You could already feel the heat rising in your face. “I took a garbage bag, stuffed it with paper to make it look like a body, and then—” You paused, your voice dropping slightly. “Then I added some fake blood. A lot of fake blood.”

His eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” you admitted, wincing. “But it looked amazing! For like…five minutes.” You gestured vaguely toward the dashboard, trying to find the words to defend yourself. “I might have spilled some of the fake blood on the lawn. And…it might’ve looked a little too real.”

Too real, extra real.

“A little?” Spencer asked, incredulous. “You mean realistic enough to make the neighbors call the cops?”

You winced, expecting him to think you were ridiculous—or worse, stupid. But then, to your surprise, his lips quirked into a soft laugh.

“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest when you saw the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.

Yeah, maybe you didn't want him to think you were weird, but you didn't like being laughed at either.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, though the hint of amusement in his voice betrayed him.

“You are absolutely laughing,” you huffed, your pout deepening. “It’s not funny, Spencer.”

He took a deep breath, finally managing to suppress his laughter—mostly. His hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. The warmth in his hazel eyes softened the sting of your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, though his lips still twitched with the ghost of a smile. “I really am, angel. But you have to admit, you went a little overboard with the ‘terrifying’ concept.”

And there it was, the kind of sweetness that had made you fall for him so hard. The kind you'd expect to receive without question after spending at least half an hour locked in a filthy cell.

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, maybe. But in my head, it wasn’t that bad,” you said weakly. “It just…went a little wrong.”

“A little?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising again. “You got arrested. You scared half the neighborhood into thinking they’d stumbled onto a crime scene.”

“At least it wasn’t illegal!” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “I didn’t actually hurt anyone. I just made a mess. With fake blood.”

Spencer’s gaze dropped to your hands, where smears of red clung stubbornly to your skin. His eyes flicked to your clothes—your jeans, your shirt, both stained with dried streaks of crimson. A slow grin spread across his face.

“It wasn’t illegal, but now you look like you walked off the set of a slasher movie,” he said, his voice filled with teasing affection. “Here—and here.” He gestured to a streak of red on your shoulder, then another on your cheek.

You were about to protest when he suddenly leaned in. His face was so close now, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could say another word, his lips brushed softly against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that caught you off guard. You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. Then, as if it had all been a slow, perfect dance, you melted into him. His lips were warm and tender, the kiss slow and sweet, like a quiet promise that everything, even in the chaos of your night, was going to be okay.

When he pulled back, your breath caught, your chest fluttering in that way only he could make you feel. His grin was wide, playful, but there was something else in his eyes—a depth, a tenderness that made your heart thud. You blinked up at him, still dazed from the warmth of his kiss.

“For the record,” he murmured, his voice soft, his lips still dangerously close to yours, “I never thought you were a criminal. Just a little…overly enthusiastic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, warm sound bubbling out of you. “Overly enthusiastic,” you echoed, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And messy,” he added, his eyes twinkling as they lingered on the fake blood smeared across your face.

“Don’t push your luck, Dr. Reid,” you warned, though the smile on your face betrayed you.

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound melting into the quiet of the car. He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss that felt like a promise—quiet, tender, and full of unspoken reassurance. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the comfort of his presence.

As he pulled back, he studied you with that signature look—the one that always made you feel like he could see straight into your soul. His brow furrowed slightly, and you recognized that expression well: the one he wore when he was about to ask something important, when he wanted to understand you better. It was a look that never failed to make your heart flutter, even if it made you feel vulnerable.

“Okay,” he said slowly, his tone gentler now. “I get wanting to make the decorations amazing, but why was it so important? Why go all out to the point of, well…” He gestured vaguely toward you, his lips twitching again. “Fake crime scene levels of effort?”

You hesitated, his question hitting you like a wave. You knew the answer, but speaking it aloud felt heavier than you had anticipated. It was as though the words themselves had a weight you hadn’t been prepared to carry. You lowered your gaze, absently picking at the hem of your shirt as you fought to find the right words, your mind tangled in emotions that were hard to articulate.

Reid didn’t push, though. His silence was patient, waiting for you to open up at your own pace. It was one of the things you adored about him—the way he didn’t rush, didn’t demand. He just let you be, trusting you would share when you were ready.

Finally, you exhaled a shaky breath and met his eyes, the vulnerability in your voice clear as you spoke. “It’s not just about the decorations,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about Jack.”

His expression shifted immediately, his eyes softening with understanding but remaining focused as you continued.

“I just…” You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I want to be the perfect aunt for him, you know? Someone who makes things better, even if just for a little while. He’s been through so much—losing Hayley, seeing my brother juggle everything just to make sure Jack’s okay…” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your hands to steady yourself. “He’s only a kid. He deserves to feel happy and safe and…loved.”

Maybe that last word was too personal, and maybe your boyfriend noticed.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent offer of comfort. You took his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you enough to keep going.

“I know I can’t replace his mom, and I’d never try to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did this party right—if I made it something really special—it could be a distraction. Something fun. Something he could look back on and smile about instead of just…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the words lodged in your throat.

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “Instead of just remembering what he’s lost,” he finished for you, his voice soft and understanding.

You nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah.”

The car was quiet for a moment, the weight of your confession settling between you. Then Spencer shifted closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek. The tenderness in his touch made your chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said gently, his voice steady and sure. “You’re already doing more for him than you realize. Just by being there, by loving him the way you do…that’s what matters. Not decorations or parties or anything else.”

His words hit you squarely in the heart, and you let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a fraction. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “I didn’t want to mess it up and end up in a cell.”

Reid smiled softly, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw as he held your gaze. “You didn’t mess it up,” he said firmly. “Okay, maybe the decorations were a little unconventional,” he added with a playful glint in his eye. “But your heart was in the right place. And Jack knows that. He loves you and thinks you’re wonderful, just like I do.”

You felt your breath catch at his words, the warmth in his eyes making your cheeks flush despite everything. “You’ve really become good at this, you know,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The whole comforting and making me blushing thing.”

He let out a soft chuckle, giving your cheek a gentle tap with his thumb before pulling back slightly. “I might have read eleven books to brush up on a few things and be better,” he said, his tone light but not dismissive.

You chuckled, the sound lifting the tension that had been pulling at your chest. “Eleven books? You really went all in on this, huh?”

His arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing you closer, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you grounding and reassuring. “When it’s you,” he said softly, “I’d go even further than that.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the world ease off your shoulders. A quiet thought lingered in your mind, one you hadn’t been able to put into words until now. “But…sometimes, don’t you think I’m weird?” you asked, the vulnerability creeping in despite yourself.

Please say no.

“Weird? No,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I think you’re perfect.” He paused for a moment, then added with a soft laugh, “And every day, I’m grateful you don’t think I’m weird either.”

You smiled, the knot in your chest loosening, the weight of uncertainty fading as his words settled in. “Guess we both can be a little weird then,” you said, the truth of it comforting you more than you expected.

He chuckled, the sound easy and light, as he pulled you a little closer, holding you in a way that spoke of quiet promises. “It’s perfect for me.”

[astonmartinii]

day one: when you wish upon a star | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

he's been begging max to set him up ... and look who has him in the grid secret santa!

christmas song: my only wish (this year) - britney spears

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,209,488 others

tagged: carlossainz55, pierregasly & landonorris

f1: it's that time of the year again... it's secret santa time!

view all comments

user1: THE SPEEDOS????

user2: 100% from valterri

user3: what do we have to do to see them on tho ???

user4: HUH?

user3: we're all thinking it??

alexalbon: since you're a blabber mouth @charles_leclerc PLEASE PUT MORE EFFORT INTO YOUR GIFT THIS YEAR

charles_leclerc: my gift was great last year idk what you people are talking about

alexalbon: if i unwrap a calendar i will set horsey on leo

charles_leclerc: @rspca GET HIM

user5: i love with secret santa you can really tell which drivers are actually friends lol

user6: charles... we're looking at you last year

user7: the teaser showed that max got lando ... could be interesting after this season

maxverstappen1: not that i need to ... but i have a plan

user8: really?

maxverstappen1: i have concepts of a plan!

landonorris: please don't like gift wrap like a litter box or something

maxverstappen1: oh i like my cats much more than i like you why would i do that?

maxverstappen1: AHA! I HAVE IT

landonorris: that sounds ominous

carlossainz55: is it something to do with his pathetic crush on a certain someone

landonorris: LALALALALLALALA SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW ABOUT THAT MAX PLEASE DON'T I'M SORRY ABOUT AUSTRIA

user9: well now it needs to happen...

user10: whoever came up with the grid secret santa i need to give you a big fat kiss

maxverstappen1: you might not be the only one ....

landonorris: SHUT UP

maxverstappen1: hehehehehee

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 14,055 others

yourusername: gift giving is my love language

view all comments

user14: okay lando i kinda get you

user15: she's friends with max and looks like that and hasn't been hooked? where is the hope for all of us

maxverstappen1: hideous personality 👍

yourusername: and you're my best friend so what does that say about you?

maxverstappen1: i have zero standards?

yourusername: girl fuck you

user16: i hate bitches that can actually wrap gifts

user17: leave me alone with my crinkled shit held together with a whole roll of tape

landonorris: my love language is words of affirmation :3

yourusername: okay mr praise kink

landonorris: WHAT? NO?

yourusername: whatever you wanna say babygirl

landonorris: oh i ... um - yes!

user18: oh brother this dude stinks

alexalbon: he is even worse in real life

oscarpiastri: but it is just as entertaining

landonorris: i'm glad my low self esteem is so funny for you guys

yourusername: you're amazing lando - don't think badly of yourself :(

landonorris: did you or did you not call me a 'stumpy, entitled british bum' the other day?

yourusername: well that's because you were fighting max and unfortunately we're two trauma bonded cats and he therefore comes first

yourusername: but i still love you!

landonorris: LOVE?

user19: someone check on him?

oscarpiastri: i just found him passed out in his driver's room

georgerussell63: that's becoming blackmail material

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 803,405 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

landonorris: didn't manage to win the championship this time round but i'm hoping max got me something good in the secret santa to say sorry

view all comments

user20: thank god this season is ending

user21: i think it would've killed me if this title race went to abu dhabi again

user22: it's pookie on pookie crime

user23: i fear one of the pookies may have killed the other if this went on any longer

maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know weather boy

landonorris: um yes? i hate surprises

maxverstappen1: i think you might like this one 😈

landonorris: that emoji makes me think you've been scheming

maxverstappen1: maybe i have? you'll just have to wait and see ...

landonorris: STOP I CAN HEAR YOUR EVIL LAUGHTER FROM HERE

landonorris: seriosuly how many of you are in on this it sounds like a pack of hyenas this is meant to be SECRET santa

alexalbon: what do you mean i don't know anything about this ...

landonorris: alex YOU CAN'T STOP LAUGHING AROUND ME

alexalbon: maybe i just find you real funny lando?

landonorris: really?

alexalbon: NO

user24: they are enjoying torturing him way too much

maxverstappen1: call it karma for all the shit he talked throughout the season

landonorris: NOO I THOUGHT I WAS GETTING A NICE GIFT ???

maxverstappen1: oh it's definitely a gift for somone...

landonorris: i deadass won't come to the paddock

yourusername: you'll win it soon lands - just wait for max to retire so i can support you wholeheartedly

landonorris: why not now :((((

yourusername: don't worry babe he's old he'll retire in no time

landonorris: yay 🥳 🙌 😀

maxverstappen1: excuse me?

landonorris: is four championships and y/n not enough?

maxverstappen1: no!

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,302,558 others

tagged: yourusername & landonorris

maxverstappen1: not just because i want another trophy, but i'll pick up my best secret santa award now thanks

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user25: he didn't ???

user26: i think he did

user27: is that not like prostitution?

maxverstappen1: i don't think giving lando a chance to embarrass himself on a date is prostitution

user28: do you have any faith in him?

maxverstappen1: in him? no. but does y/n also have horrible standards and is easily impressed? yes.

alexalbon: he folded so quickly i hope they got it all on camera

oscarpiastri: that was so humiliating it might have to go on a more x rated website

landonorris: OSCAR????

oscarpiastri: it was harrowing mate but she seemed to like it so go you?

carlossainz55: that was a crazy reaction for it to just be y/n

maxverstappen1: i think you're trying to be funny but it might JUST be a skill issue

landonorris: JUST Y/N? KILL YOURSELF

carlossainz55: woah where is the christmas cheer?

landonorris: i will run you over with my sleigh

landonorris: THIS IS THE BEST GIFT ANYONE HAS EVER GOTTEN ME PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE

user29: bro is so down bad that he just took carlando out back and shot them

user30: bro is so lost in the sauce that he is threatening a festive hit and run

yourusername: okay max we can stop pretending that i wasn't also begging you to set me up with lando

maxverstappen1: but it's so funny watching him make a fool of himself

landonorris: HUH???

yourusername: newsflash baby, i'm just as in love with you as you are with me

landonorris: AHHHHHHHHH <333333333

landonorris: i'm sorry i'll get back to being in love with you one sec

landonorris: @alexalbon @georgerussell63 @oscarpiastri @carlossainz55 SUCK ON THAT

landonorris: okay i love you y/n :3

yourusername: i love you too you crazy boy

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,430,973 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: christmas wishes do come true!

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user34: so how long do you think he's had that shirt in preparation?

landonorris: 18 months at least - i have faith in myself even if the others didn't

user35: i can't tell if that's creepy or?

landonorris: IT'S ROMANTIC

yourusername: kiss me it's christmas!

landonorris: only because it's christmas?

yourusername: i guess i can give you a couple more passes...

landonorris: not to be dramatic but now i know what it feels like i might die without it

yourusername: not dramatic at all !!!

maxverstappen1: it is kinda dramatic ...

yourusername: SHUSH!

maxverstappen1: i knew you were mushy about this (your diary reads like a very badly written romance book) but good lord this is awful THESE ARE PUBLIC COMMENTS

yourusername: I FUCKING KNEW YOU READ MY DIARY

maxverstappen1: duh! how else did you think this little scheme came to be?

yourusername: ugh i guess

user36: so like where do i get an f1 driver bestfriend who will invade my privacy to get me a bf?

user37: might just start throwing my diary in the paddock at this point

alexalbon: ur so pathetic i love you

yourusername: excuse me old man

alexalbon: old? OLD?

yourusername: i don't care to google you but i've seen you try and read a menu and scan a QR code so stop declaring your love for my boyf or i will keep going

landonorris: she's so possessive 😩😩😩

yourusername: i ate too many grapes on new year's eve to not get and keep my man

alexalbon: trust me, no one wants ur man

yourusername: tell that to the teenage girls in my DMs

user38: it's a pleasant surprise to see that y/n is just as down bad as lando

user39: match made in heaven ... this MIGHT make me a max verstappen fan

user40: i fear this will be an f1 custody battle for the ages

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 78,209 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: my only wish this year was to finally get you <3

view all comments

user41: i already liked this queen but a queen who loves britney spears christmas... that's mother

user42: one of these most underrated christmas songs ever

oscarpiastri: ... some people have even witnessed her live rendition of it

yourusername: don't sound too excited about it then

oscarpiastri: i appreciated the enthusiasm but like i feel like it was a PRIVATE moment ... not for the whole of the garage to see

landonorris: someone is missing lily ....

user43: i am trying to be joyful as per the holiday season but i am absolutely seething with jealousy

user44: hey siri play that should be me

yourusername: nope sorry never gonna happen :P

user45: okay girl you've made your point no need to rub it in our faces

yourusername: actually i think i will! my bf is pretty why wouldn't i show that off ?

user46: yall can hate her for this but realistically this is how we'd all be if we pulled lando

landonorris: you guys acting as if i'm the catch when it's literally her...

user47: do we think santa's elves can make me a lando norris? REAL ANSWERS ONLY ...

maxverstappen1: WOW you wouldn't think this was a double date trip ...

yourusername: you can't complain about BOTH of us pining and then be annoyed about us being lovey dovey

maxverstappen1: i can and i WILL

landonorris: you know what max you can complain all you want because this has been the BEST secret santa ever

maxverstappen1: so you won't call me a dirty driver next season?

landonorris: eh?

yourusername: make no mistake lando, i may love you but my loyalties on track remain with max

landonorris: as long as you're still coming home with me i guess i'll deal with it

yourusername: luv u xxxx

landonorris: i love you tooooo xxx

user48: is y/n going to do more for the on track tension than the literal fia?

yourusername: always gotta be a woman sorting everything out

user50: babe i think max is just afraid of you and lando is so in love he'll do anything for you

yourusername: AS THEY SHOULD BE

fin.

note: and on the first day of christmas aston martini gave to me a smau that undos all of our max vs lando tension from the season !! thought i'd treat yall to the first day early <33

[fogwarden]

Same thing as people who get into arguments about how XYZ music sucks cause it doesn't follow music theory rules.

These rules people made up (and it's important to remember that they are, in fact, all made up) are DEscriptive rather than PROscriptive. People didn't make up all these complicated rules about which chords lead into what notes and then start trying to make songs with them, the "rules" came about from people trying to find the common element in music that did things their ear liked. It was an attempt to deconstruct WHY some things sounded better than others, which of course varies from person to person and culture to culture (it is unsurprising that both of these sets of "rules" have a habit of assuming a Western European understanding of these ideas must be wholly universal and tripping over themselves when they find places in the world that don't think the same way about things.) It shouldn't be a rigid set of structures you must operate within or else, it should be a toolbox of terms and ideas you can use to better understand and describe WHY something does or doesn't work for you.

I've always viewed queer identity language in the same way. The terms weren't made so you can self-police who you let into your club or who you're allowed to find hot or anything like that, it's to help you better understand yourself and to act as shorthand when it comes to understanding others. Any use beyond that always just spins out into gatekeeping and infighting and never seems to make anything actually better for it.

In other words, queer people are jazz and brother, I don't even know what fuckin key I'm in

i hate to be that guy, but the idea that gender, sex, and sexuality are ontologically pure concepts that can be rigidly defined if we simply police our language enough (our english language, because of course) is—i cannot stress this enough—a total waste of time. you may as well spend your afternoons teaching a brick how to swim

[sweetshuga]

MS ✰ Bewitched ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

contains ⚠︎ smut!, strong language!, suggestive remarks!, obscene descriptions!, polyamory, hint of overstimulation, p in v (unprotected, use condoms irl), threesome, oral (m! receiving), size kink, light s&m, bondage, toys & idk a bunch of kinky stuff °~° ⚠︎

sum. Switching their clothes for a video leads to new sexual discoveries.

wc. 2.1k (2,116)

note. English is not my first language!

You watched from your place on the living room couch as Matt and Chris paced back and forth between their rooms. Seemingly exchanging clothes, laughing and talking about some type of tiktok they’re gonna film. You were only partially paying attention now—the fanfiction you were reading on your phone suddenly taking an interesting turn.

"Hey, ma?" Your head shot up at the sudden interruption, your eyes widened by a fraction when you saw their attire. They had exchanged clothes, and even their jewelleries were of the other. It’s not like they don’t wear each other’s clothes, you’ve seen them share hoodies or pants, but never fully dress as one another.

"Yeah?" You breathed out, your voice coming out a bit too shaky for your liking. "Can you please go into one of our rooms while we film a tiktok? Y’know... we can’t really show you yet." Chris said apologetically, and you nodded. "Yeah, yeah, of course, tell me when you’re done." You stood up and made your way towards Matt’s room.

"Sorry about this, sweetheart, we won’t take too long ’promise," you chuckled quietly to yourself before replying with a soft "okay" and closed the door behind yourself. Immediately plopping down on Matt’s bed as you opened your phone, ready to continue reading the fanfic.

Some people might think it’s weird to read fanfictions about your boyfriend— or boyfriends in your case, but you couldn’t deny how hot it was, how much it turned you on. The suggestive part of the fanfic began and just as you got comfortable on the bed Matt walked inside the room.

You looked up from your phone, raising an eyebrow, "you done already?" He chuckled and shook his head no, "Chris is filming his video, I’ll do it after him." You nodded, and motioned for him to come sit beside you. "You should wear bracelets more often, it suits you..." Your voice trailed off as his hand landed on your thigh, giving it a small playful squeeze, and the seemingly innocent gesture sent shivers down your spine.

"Yeah? Maybe I should get a similar one–" he paused, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw the Tumblr logo on your phone, the fanfiction left open and abandoned on the bed beside you. You looked at him confused before following his gaze, a small gasp escaped your lips before you quickly turned your phone off.

You sat up, flustered and embarrassed to have been caught red handed reading such a frisky fanfic about him and Chris. Stammering as you tried to find a good excuse as to why you were reading a smut fanfic in broad daylight – even if you could – but it only made it worse. "You read things like that? What was the name again?"

You looked at him for a solid minute before opening your mouth to speak, only getting out a flustered "what?" in response. The corners of Matt’s lips twitched into a small smirk, "what’s the name?" He repeated himself, his smirk threatened to grow wider with each passing second. "Simple solution," you whispered.

"Hm? And what happens in it?" You gulped softly, feeling your face heat up. "Do I have to? I mean, you can just read it yourself, I know you’ve got Tumblr on your phone." Matt laughed, the sound rich and amused, "yeah I do, but I wanna hear you tellin’ me about it, sweetheart." You couldn’t help but fidget slightly at the pet name, it was one of your faves.

"Uhm... It’s like, well," you stammered, "it’s about how much you and Chris look alike when you wear your caps backwards." You finally blurted out, biting your tongue as you waited for his reaction. "That’s... Interesting? So y’like it when we look alike huh?" He chuckled, thoroughly amused.

The bedroom door opened, and Chris peeked his head in. "I’m done," he walked fully inside the room, grinning and putting his hands on his hips in a mock attempt of display. "So, how do I look, ma?" You chuckled and sat up straight, "So fine, I’ll give you that, the kisses tee is just chefs kiss."

Chris grinned wider, "pirate girl tank or kisses tee?" Your jaw dropped, "how do you expect me to pick one? Also, why didn’t you wear the 'iconic' pirate girl tank?" You nudged Matt playfully, "we’re not recreating outfits... well, basically, but it’s more like how we dress and all—" you cut him off with a laugh, "okay, whatever you say, kid."

"Are you two done filming yet?" Nick popped his head in, looking annoyed, "’cause I’m so fucking hungry, and you keep telling me to stay in my room like what am I? One of your secret girlfriends?" Chris scoffed in faux annoyance, "we’ve only got one girl fyi, and no, Matt hasn’t filmed yet, but go ahead and eat if you’re about to starve to death."

Nick huffed, raising his eyebrows in dramatic disbelief, but didn’t say anything else as he walked away, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous everything was. Suddenly, Matt spoke—breaking the silence. "I’ll be back," he gave your thigh one last squeeze before standing up to film the short video for tiktok.

Chris smirked and sauntered over to Matt’s bed where you were – still – laying on. Sitting on the edge as his hand absentmindedly started to caress your calves, "so, real talk, how do I look?" You hummed thoughtfully, "real talk? I think you look hot, like 'makes me wet' kinda hot." He let out a surprised yet amused laugh, "bold now ain’t we?" chuckling as he leaned closer.

"Mm... 'makes you wet' kinda hot huh?" He teased, a wolfish grin on his face as his gaze raked over your body appraisingly. "So, you gon’ show me how wet it makes you or do I have to see it myself." His tone wasn’t one of questioning, more like a commanding one as if you were obligated to show him either way. You felt pleasantly surprised, the fluttering in your abdomen growing tenfold.

However, Matt walked in before you could respond. Raising his eyebrows with a small smirk as he sensed the tension in the air. The room seemed warmer, more electric. That’s when Nick opened the door again, "I’ll be out for a bit–" he paused, having sensed the tension as well.

"Well, uh... Don’t be too loud? We don’t need another noise complaint from our neighbours, that’s just borderline embarrassing." With that, he closed Matt’s bedroom door, leaving you three alone. The front door clicked shut a few minutes later. Your mouth hung agape at Nick’s words.

"Damn, kid has no filter whatsoever." Chris chuckled, taking the fanny pack off and tossing it on Matt’s gaming chair. "Hey, easy with it," Matt said as he took off his cap. Putting it on his gaming desk before turning to look at you. Sensing their eyes on you, you suddenly felt a strong heat in your lower abdomen. Their gazes were enough to make you squirm.

"So, now that Nick is out," Chris looked at Matt before looking back at you, "we’ve the house all to ourselves," Matt continued for him. You nodded subtly, shifting slightly on the bed, trying not to show how in need you were. They weren’t stupid, knowing exactly what was happening with you as their handsome faces lit up with amused grins.

You squirmed, a muffled moan exiting your gagged mouth as your hips bucked and jerked when Chris pressed a button on the small remote, making the vibe in between your legs buzz louder. The intense sensation of the vibe, bound to stay precisely on your clit, was enough to make your eyes roll back.

Your ankles were bound as well as your wrists, making you unable to move much as the pleasure coursed through your body. You bit the gag, your back arching and hips rolling as you tried to get the vibe at least a millimeter away from your throbbing clit, but Matt held your hips down and Chris positioned the vibrator so it was exactly on your clit again.

"Aw, too much?" Matt pouted, jutting his bottom lip out in obvious mock sympathy. Your eyes glazed over as a tight knot formed in your stomach, your body trembling as you tried to fight the impending orgasm – knowing it would turn you dumb from how powerful it would be.

Just when you thought you couldn’t hold back anymore, Chris pressed the button until the vibe buzzed at max. An immediate jolt ran through your body as your eyes widened, tears of pleasure threatening to fall as you shut it back closed, loud muffled noises penetrating through the gag.

Your mind blanked when you felt the knot snap, the orgasm so powerful that you wondered if you could stay conscious. Noticing the slight overstimulation, Chris turned the vibe to a low buzz. The sensation bordered on overstimulating in your oversensitized post-orgasmic state – even if it was barely there. Matt chuckled as he took the remote from Chris and turned the vibe off, your body immediately limping into the mattress as the sensations stopped.

Chris gently untied your ankles from the bounds, but kept your wrists tied over your head. His fingers working deftly to remove the bounds from your pelvic area and tossed the vibe somewhere on the bed. Seeing your inner thighs quivering, covered in your juices, and your swollen, glistening folds on display made their cocks twitch.

They were already naked, not seeing the point in having clothes on, but kept the bracelet and rings on per your request. The tips of their hefty lengths were already dripping with precum from how aroused they were, swollen and taut with unfulfilled desires. Matt suddenly stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet while Chris took off the gag.

A few seconds later, Matt was back on the bed, now beside you as he helped you into a sitting position. Your gaze fell down to his hand that held a red silk blindfold before taking it back up to his face, your eyebrows raised. "Where did you even get that?" You asked with a small hint of amusement.

Matt just grinned, "bought it a while ago, been contemplating whether to use it or not, but I think now’s the best time to use it." Chris chuckled, "dude, I can’t believe y’had all this stuff in your closet, laying ’round like that." Matt chuckled and scooted closer to you, his erection bobbing obscenely as he moved. "C’mon, sweetheart, lemme blindfold you." You eagerly closed your eyes, not denying how much you liked this.

The blindfold cut off any source of light, making you feel a shudder of excitement. It was designed for plays like this so it wasn't a surprise that you couldn't see anything. The inability to see only heightened your other senses, every graze and touch of their hands on you seemed to make your body tremble and jolt.

𓆩♡𓆪

Your mind was a haze as Matt pounded into you with hard, deep strokes, and the slight difficulty breathing from Chris’ length down your throat added to the haze. Your mind fogging with pure unadulterated pleasure as they used your holes. Matt held your bound wrists, keeping you from moving as his other hand gripped your hip with bruising strength.

The obscene sounds of squelching from your sopping pussy being filled over and over again by Matt and the slurping sounds of your mouth working Chris filled the room along with the bed creaking underneath you. The position you were having intercourse in was a new one neither you, Matt or Chris had tried before.

Your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, but your head hung down it—allowing Chris to use your mouth. Matt’s pace quickened as he felt himself growing close with each spasm of your inner walls from your previous orgasms, the aftershocks still coursing through you.

Chris moaned as he felt the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each thrust down your throat, the sight of the bulge he was creating with his cock on your throat proving to be too much. You felt them twitch in your holes, their paces quickening and you knew they were close.

With guttural moans they came, one after the other. After a few seconds of shuddering over you, they finally pulled out, leaving you filled with their releases, but you knew better than to think it was over. Your suspicions were proven right when they coaxed you into a different position, but you weren’t complaining. After all, who could resist? They seemed to have you under their spell—bewitching indeed.

𓆩♡𓆪

ps. The fic mentioned in the beginning is actually one of my chratt fics. I know, I know, sneaky mf, but here's the link in case you wanna check it out<3 «Simple Solution»

Also, the beginning part of the actual smut was inspired by this «p link»

Chratt taglist: @bells-sturn @h3arts4nat @zombiesturniolo @urfavnickgirl @cwistofurr @goingtojohnkramershouseee @blahblahblahm @shoo-00 @ariana2saucyy @ksturnz @sturniolos4life16 @strnlslut @babysturniolo @ashleighpray23 @bl1ssfulbunn1e @ijustbelurkingmymen

♡ If you wanna be tagged on my future Chratt fics click «here» and interact with the post ♡

© sweetshuga

[valeriascoat]

Mr.Scarletella x Reader

Ummm ehhhehe... Red guy, hawwooo.... Sorry for cringe 🙏

Your palm feels incredibly warm and alive compared to his own. A steady grip of your fingers, a focused face and a noticeable satisfaction with what you are doing – painting his nails.

Scarletella didn't quite understand why you were doing this, but just your attention to him was already an incredible wonderful, making the ghost's chest shrink into almost forgotten feelings. He didn't dare even move, for fear of spoiling something or knocking you off with even brush strokes. He just stared, as if fascinated, his eyes wide open.

And you, in turn, feel a hint of something adequate in this strange world. The simple act of painting your nails was surprisingly relaxing and allowed you to forget for a while about your frequent headaches and the oppressive atmosphere of ambiguity.

_

The "ghost in the red coat" became your "victim" on his own, as soon as he appeared in the hallway after you left the room with (strange words on walls) a makeup bag. You will not experience the fear of him that you had the first time you two met. Now, you meet him only with silence and a desire to get rid of his presence as soon as possible; he bowed his head owlishly in front of you and pointed at you in another attempt.

– Name… Say_name.

The answer was silence and your action: suddenly taking his palm and looking at it closely. A second later, and at him too.

– I_want to do_good_you.

Your language skills have improved, it's nice to know. Scarletella grunted questioningly, slightly arching his eyebrows. He didn't quite understand, but you were already satisfied that he didn't refuse.

_

And now he's sitting on the floor with you, obligingly letting you do whatever you want to do. In the process, he gradually began to enter a kind of trance, carried away by the noise of your breathing and random sounds from you.

But everything comes to an end, and your palm finally leaves him, signaling the end of the "beauty salon". Scarletella looks at you with his frighteningly empty eyes, in which there is an almost naive misunderstanding.

You chuckle, nodding your head at what you've done.

– Done. Look.

The ghost obediently raises his hands in front of him and curiously examines his nails. The red and black colors in his clothes are identical to the lacquers. It looks neat. Nicely. What you have done is always beautiful. You always do your best for him.

– You_like?

The ghost wants to smile softly, as you always do when something turns out well and feels good for you. But his smile stretches crookedly and looks completely different from what he probably expected. You've known for a long time what he's trying to do.

– I_like. Like. Very. I_like!

A chuckle escapes your lips again. It's nice when the work is evaluated properly. He knows how to please, it turns out. How nice.

A moment later, Scarletella stops almost incredulously, feeling the warmth of your palm on the top of his head. He knows this gesture (by the way that scrawling guy did it, which he definitely doesn't want to think about next to you). But just touching turns into stroking, to which the ghost reacts suddenly with a quiet hum of static. It even seems that if he had the opportunity to breathe, he would hold it in amazement. It is clear from him that he wants to express something, but is absolutely unable to formulate words, his eyes widening in admiration.

Because then you laugh good-naturedly, not loudly, not even in a voice, only with sighs and rhythmic lifting of your chest and shoulders. How charmingly stupid this menacing ghost looked, it was only necessary to make such a simple gesture. You even want to call him cute.

Scarletella could have sworn on his damned soul that he felt his heart beating in his chest and his body getting hotter. It absorbs every sound and movement that you make, trying to remember everything completely. Empty eyes are now filled with something that amuses and… bores you every time, to your regret.

The stroking stops, the innocent moment ruined by his extra feelings, and you quickly stand up, taking your makeup bag and crowbar before he can do anything. But the only thing he can do is to break out of the trance.

And stare openly.

– Goodbye.

You say quickly and disappear from view. I would like to admit that I didn’t really want to, because for the first time you managed to touch another part of him that was not connected with some sick mania to pursue you. But alas, one hint of this ruined all the charm.

You don't need it.

At the same time, Scarletella finds himself overwhelmed by the growing vines of adoration for you. His hands shake slightly, as if he’s trying to remember the warmth of your palms on them.

How much do you love him if you treat him so well?

Give him more.

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part V

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

playlist, part I, part II, part III, part IV

Warnings: toxic!p, language, sexual themes, themes of cheating etc

Wordcount: 5.8k

A/N: WE ARE BACK! no smut in this one sorry ik you love it but i think this a bit of a turning point in the fic :) again pls send me feedback and live reactions! it's the best part of writing this series ANYWAY GO READ ty for everything you guys do

-

We’re both sweaty, my skin sticking to hers as we try and catch our breaths - that fourth round had really done us in. If it hadn’t been for me, I’m sure the blonde next to me would’ve gone for fifth. That damn athlete’s stamina. This had become a daily routine the past week, ever since our sleepover.

“You stayin’ over, right?” Paige asks, hand in my hair brushing through it gently. I consider it, the idea of falling asleep in her arms, getting to wake up being held tight by her warming me, but in the back of my mind there’s something gnawing at me. I’m pretty sure I had something to do tonight. Oh right. Jay. Shit.

Clumsily climbing out of bed and pulling on my clothes with urgency makes Paige let out a confused chuckle as she sits up, watching me closely. “Damn ma, chill, you can go if you want.”

“No, I just-” I mumble through my red knitted sweater, pulling it over my head. “I was supposed to see Jay.” In fact Jay had insisted we celebrate because it’s been exactly a month since we started seeing each other. I didn’t really get it. Maybe if we were actually dating, and even then just after one month felt… Excessive to me. But she had insisted.

Paige goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, a hint of something unfamiliar on her face as I pull up my flared yoga pants. I check myself in the mirror, mascara smudged over undereyes, lipstick all over my face and my perfectly styled blowout matted at the back - I looked completely fucked out. The hickey on my collarbone, and the smell of Paige’s cologne on my clothes didn’t help my case.

“Paigeee!” I groan at the reflection staring back at me, scrunching my face as I force my long brown locks into a high ponytail, but the blonde sitting behind me on her purple comforter remains quiet, eyes low and face stoic. It’s so unlike her I turn around, tightening my pony as I watch her concerned. “P?”

She finally lifts her gaze from the corner of her room to meet my face, smiling weakly. I could tell something was off, and it made my stomach stir. Before I can ask Paige leans her head against the wall behind her, looking to the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

“You sure you can’t stay?”

It sounds vulnerable, almost pleading if I didn’t know better. For a moment I waver, but instead I brush it off, turning back to the mirror and fixing my makeup while Paige watches on the bed.

“Nah, she wanted to celebrate our one month… Something,” I murmur, reapplying the maroon lipstick.

A deep sigh from Paige fills the room as she fidgets with her hands before bringing them up to her jaw, rubbing it.

“Why are you with her?”

“Huh?” I ask, turning to her but she won’t meet my gaze.

“You heard me, why are you with her?”

I’m baffled, astonished by the question. A blush rising to my cheeks I suddenly feel defensive for some reason - mostly because there was no good reason. Jay was nice enough and I liked her company. Sometimes. But at least I knew for certain she would never do what Paige had done to me in the past. Never.

“Because she’s good to me! How’s that any of your business anyway?” my voice rises as I ask, my arms crossing but Paige is quick to get up and walk over to me, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you right,” she quickly lets out, rubbing up and down my back and the anger immediately subsides. “Stupid question, sorry.” She sounds almost scared. I had never heard her sound like that. Trying to understand what it meant made my mind turn to mush so I focus on the way she kisses my forehead and holds my face, our eyes meeting.

“Thursday then? After my game?” Paige suggests, now kissing my neck, making me forget all about who was waiting for me. My eyes flutter shut as I hum, trying to answer.

“I can’t,” I murmur, Paige’s lips doing their best work as her teeth nibble my earlobe making me hiss. “Me and Jay are gonna come watch you play,” I admit breathlessly, making her pull away from me.

“Seriously?” She asks, brows furrowed in annoyance. I shrug, unsure why she was so upset.

“I’ve been beggin’ for you to come see me play and nothin’? But for Justine…?”

“It’s her birthday! I promised I’d do what she wanted!” I argue, my voice rising the tiniest bit once more.

Paige looks at the ground and shakes her head frustrated, breathing heavy through her mouth. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad, I never in a million years thought she cared this much about me seeing her play. I didn’t even care about going with Jay. Honestly, I just wanted to see Paige in her element. I loved listening to her talk about ball, the way her eyes sparkled with knowledge and passion. She might be a piece of shit and an asshole but I really admired her resilience and ambition. If Paige was anything it was incredibly focused and dedicated. Sometimes to her own fault, I thought.

“Besides I bet Claire or-”

“Clara.”

“Right, Clara, will be there to watch you play!” Her name tastes sour in my mouth.

“I don’ care about her, want you watchin’ me!”

“Well I will be watchin’ you!”

“With Justine!” Paige groans with a roll of her eyes, her hands waving around as she speaks. I watch her bewildered when it hits me. She’s jealous. Paige Bueckers is jealous.

“You’re jealous?” slips from my mouth with a confused scoff, making Paige freeze. She looks at me for a moment, debating, then shaking her head.

“No. I just- I don’ wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna fight,” she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. There’s a hint of defeat in her voice which makes me waver. My annoyance and confusion slip away as I watch the way her blue eyes soften. 

“Let’s not fight Val, please.”

“Okay,” I hum and let her pull me into a hug. As her nose buries into my hair, for a second I think she’s smelling it, inhaling carefully - but I must be mistaken. She had never done that before.

“P I gotta go,” I murmur against her chest, not wanting to but knowing Jay was growing more and more suspicious as time passed. Frankly, we still weren’t exclusive so none of this was technically cheating. Still, I hadn’t told her. I had convinced myself that eventually I would. I just don’t know when.

“I’ll walk you,” she whispers, making me chuckle.

“Yeah that wouldn’t be sus at all huh?”

Paige grins, looking down at me. “Just tell her we’re fucking around.”

With a furrow of my brows I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Paige is smirking smugly now, staring into me. “Oh because then you’d have to tell her how I fuck you better than she do?”

I blush and roll my eyes. I wasn’t about to admit she was right.

Pushing her off me, I grab my bag from the floor and give her one last glance. She reaches her hand to my jaw and holds it, pressing a tender kiss to my lips making my heart flutter for a second.

“Text me when you’re there ma,” she murmurs against my lips before letting go and opening her door for me.

“I will.”

Waving bye to Jana and Allie too who I’d become friendly with this last week, I walk out of the dorm into the chilly evening, February still forcing me to wear my white puffer jacket. I wrap it around me tightly as I hurry towards Jay’s dorm, trying not to think myself to the grave over Paige’s behaviour  - loving, caring, a different Paige than I knew last fall. I almost wish she was the same as she used to be, the careless player who didn’t let me sleep over or get to know her roommates. Because now I had what I had always wanted from her. Except it wasn’t a dream come true. It was terrifying. My heart wanted to give in, to let myself feel. But I was horrified of what she could do again, how she might hurt me this time.

I’m still in my thoughts when I reach Jay’s door, knocking on it urgently. Before I can even lower my hand, she opens the door, a frown on her face.

“You’re late.” she says, letting me in nevertheless. The room is lit with candles, homemade dinner gone cold on the plates and a bouquet of flowers in a vase - my heart sinks. Not because I missed out on what Jay had planned, but because I didn’t want this. Not from her. I felt like a piece of shit for thinking that this was way too much. But it’s true. 

“Fuck Jay, I’m so sorry. I got caught up at Ted’s. I didn’t know a Tuesday night would be this busy,” I chuckle trying to lighten the mood, seeing a teddy bear with a big red bowtie sitting on the couch, giving me the creeps.

“Whatever Val,” she sighs, clearing the plates away. I watch, not sure what to say.

“Your roommates, where-”

Jay turns to me, tears in her eyes. “I paid them both to be out tonight, to make tonight special. But you didn’t even come.”

“I’m here now!” I say, walking over and grabbing her hands. I never knew what to do when someone cried, I wasn’t the consoling type, I was the advice type. My friends didn’t come to me to be comforted, they came to me to know what to do next. I always had a plan. But this was way out of my comfort zone. I hated when girls cried because of me.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was so busy. I didn’t even realise I was late,” I lie, looking straight into her blue eyes. It’s hard, I don’t like it, but the words slip from my lips more easily than I thought. 

Jay pouts and nods, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s not your fault just… next time call.” Her voice is weak. I really felt like an asshole. I had to end it with Paige, I knew I did. I just simply couldn’t. My heart didn’t let me for some reason.

“Okay, I’m sorry Jay. C’mere.” I pull her into a kiss, but it feels wrong, icky almost. She kisses me back though, her hands wrapping around my waist. I catch a whiff of Paige’s cologne on my sweater.

“Let’s order pizza, okay?” I ask against her lips, not wanting to open my eyes and face reality, the tugging of my heartstrings. I felt like I was being ripped apart, stuck between crossroads. I could feel myself falling for Paige. I knew it by the way my heart ached when we said goodbye, the way my eyes were constantly looking for her in a crowd. I was falling for her, yes. But the moment I admitted that the fear would come roaring in, like a tide, ready to bury everything underneath it. She had so many tools to hurt me, so many that she was unaware of. God if she knew how I felt I’m sure I’d never heard from her again. It would ruin everything. Being with Jay was good, secure, the right thing to do. Even if I didn’t feel half as much for her, my heart didn’t flutter for her - at least she couldn’t break it either.

-

Be you. Be great.

I watch the text from my dad flash on my screen, sitting in front of my cubby, legs bouncing nervously. I already knew we’d win today - we weren’t playing anyone special. An attitude Geno would surely smack the back of my head for, but it’s simply true. It wasn’t the upcoming game making my finger tap nervously against the back of my phone, it was the text I had typed out, my finger hovering over the send button, making my stomach flutter.

Miss u Val

“Yo warmups!” KK snaps me out of my trance, my finger accidentally pressing down on the send button. Shit. Now Valerie was gonna know I miss her. 

Sure it had only been a couple days since she was last in my arms, but being away from her made my heart ache. Usually the more I saw a girl the less I wanted to see her. Valerie, however, seemed to have the opposite effect. I couldn’t get enough. Guess it had something to do with the “feelings” I had for her.

“Shit you scared me,” I chuckle, my cheeks turning red as I hide the screen which KK does not miss. She grins at me, elbowing my shoulder teasingly.

“You texting Valerie?”

“Yooo,” I roll my eyes but don’t deny it, a sly smile forming on my face. Raising my brows and scratching the back of my head I look at the shorter girl standing in front of me. “She’s comin’ to watch tonight.”

“Oh forreal?”

“With Justine,” I scoff, standing up to join KK in heading in for the warmups, my jersey on, hidden underneath the warmup clothes. She snorts and shakes her head.

“Crazy work to name a child that,” She laughs.

Nodding, I snort a little. “That’s what I’m sayin’ like.” I might joke, but Justine was the one getting to bring Valerie to a game. Not me. I would take a stupid name like that too if it meant I got to do that.

“You jealous?” KK asks, noticing the way my teeth grind together. I quickly shake my head, not very convincingly, but flexing a little to make up for it. “Nah, I’m the ultimate rizzler remember? Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

Truthfully? I was a little worried. Taking a deep breath I try to push that feeling away as we enter the court, the seats slowly filling as the crowd makes their way in.

“Bro just tell her how you feel,” KK murmurs as we both stretch, watching some of the girls running around the court.

Her words make me scoff, how naive. “It’s not that simple,” my voice is stern. No one seemed to understand the pressure I was under, not even my best friend. To even suggest something like that felt insane. I couldn’t tell Valerie. Not with a natty on the line, not with all this pressure. 

Besides, what then? She feels the same and we date? I’d make a shit girlfriend, I know it. I was too selfish, an asshole. I wasn’t girlfriend material. Not for anyone as special, as precious as my Valerie. All she did was complicate things. Even now, my head was spinning with the thought of her. As if I don’t have to be at my best, have my head in the game in like an hour. God, I need to get a grip. Maybe I deserved to lose today. I was unfocused, a disappointment.

“Girl you’re an idiot,” KK sighs as we jog up and down the court. My eyes are immediately looking over the student section when her golden brown hair glimmers in the light like a beacon just for me to find her. She’s sitting in the third row, legs crossed in a mini denim skirt, much too short for the weather outside. An oversized black sweater reveals her left shoulder and collarbone, the mark I had left visible to everyone. Bold. I suppose Jay must have thought it was her doing. Boy if she knew. Part of me wanted everyone to know she’s mine. Only she wasn’t.

It’s not just Valerie’s hair, but the gold dangling on her wrist as she brushes her hair back, the rings decorating her fingers and the earrings contrasting against her dark locks that make the whole place shimmer, all because of her. I simply can’t look away. My twisted fantasies of having some sort of ownership over the brunette is quickly interrupted when Justine’s hand wraps around her shoulders and I notice the blonde girl, kissing Valerie’s cheek. My Valerie’s. I nearly trip over my feet, making KK laugh out loud - her laughter echoing around the court, taunting me.

-

“Guys what the hell is wrong with you, we should be up by 20 at this point against a school like this? That was the worst offense I’ve seen in my who-”

Geno’s scolding is ear-piercing as I sit in the dressing room next to the other girls, my elbows leaving red marks on my thighs as I lean against them and wipe the sweat dripping down my neck. My chest heaves as Geno takes turns chewing off each of us, dreading for my own turn.

We were only leading by four pathetic points, and had to struggle even for that. It was all my fault, I already knew. I didn’t need Geno or anyone to tell me that. I was unfocused, making bad decisions, causing turnovers - I even missed a free throw for the sole reason that just moments before I had seen Jay’s lips pressing into Valerie’s. God, just the thought was making me feel sick.

“Paige,” Geno’s stern voice snaps me out of it, my eyes lifting to meet his. But all he does is shake his head, and it’s even worse than him yelling at me. I wanted him to cuss me out, anything else.  “You know,” he simply says and I nod. I did know.

At least now I had the confirmation of everything I had suspected all along. A girl was nothing but a disturbance, a hitch in my plans. I can’t believe I had let myself do this, get distracted because of some girl. A classic fool. And I was about to make a fool out of my whole team too.

Once Geno leaves and gives us some time before the third quarter, I check my phone, my repentant thoughts quickly subsiding when I see the texts.

i miss you too p

fuck you look hot in that jersey

okay biceps you looking swole? when have you had time to hit the gym that much

wish i could come spend the night

My heart flutters, all of it is flattering sure. But it’s the first and last message that get me to take deep breaths. She misses me. She wants to spend the night with me. The weight on my chest eases up.

U should come over after

i can’t

promised jay

Fuck Justine 

Just come up w sumn

you really miss me that bad?

So fucking bad baby

Going to ted’s after the game

ok i’ll figure something out

Something about the texting and the adrenaline from the game made me bolder, more honest.

Valerie?

yeah?

U look gorgous

Gorjes

gorgeous?

Shut up it’s hard to spell :(

student athlete who

Gotta go warm up

paige?

Yeah?

go kill em

-

It’s hard to miss the moment the Huskies walk in, all in a big group in their navy blue Uconn trackies laughing and hyping up the blonde in the middle, whose face is scrunched up as she tells them to chill. I knew Paige well enough that she didn’t mean any of that, she loved the limelight.

All of the second half of the game Paige had been glowing on the court, completely unguardable, the star I always knew she was. With her help the Huskies had won with a 20 point lead despite the rough first half. I could’ve watched her forever. Every shot, every pass, every block had me on my toes, and I swear I was always the first one to jump to my feet to cheer for her. I forgot about the crowd, even Jay next to me. On the court it might as well just have been Paige Bueckers, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

“Babe, tell Alex I’m right!” Jay interrupts my thoughts, forcing my eyes to snap from Paige to her sitting around a table with some of her friends, a red partyhat on her head for the birthday celebration.

I blink stupidly, having missed the whole conversation.

“Shots for everyone!!” I hear Paige yell behind me, forcing a crooked smile to grow on my face.

“Uh sorry I couldn’t hear you,” I admit, glancing over my shoulder hoping the tall blonde would notice me eyeing her. She was too busy leaning over the bar, clearly eager for the drinks.

Jay giggles and presses a wet kiss on my forehead. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. I nearly vomit. 

Suddenly claustrophobic from her closeness, I brush Jay’s hand away. “I need another drink.”

“But you still have some-”

I quickly down the rest of my vodka soda, before standing up and taking quick steps in my boots towards the group of really, really tall girls surrounding Paige, flutters in my stomach growing with each step.

“Valerie!” KK is the first to notice me and wrap an arm around me. The sound of my name makes Paige’s head snap towards my direction, the smile on her face only growing wider when she sees me. Without thinking and before I can stop her, Paige is wrapping her hands around my waist and spinning me in the air, giggling, her head on my shoulder.

“Oh my God put me down!” My command is not cogent, the chuckles making me less convincing. Paige obeys anyway and lets me go, both of us glancing towards the table where Jay is sitting, still immersed in conversation with her friends. Feeling bold, Paige’s hand rapidly slides down my back to my ass, groping it harshly before letting go. The fact that Jay could see only makes me want her to do it again. Maybe I should see a therapist.

“Val I know you’re not working but can you make the Shirleys pleaaaase,” the blonde in front of me begs, her pleading blue eyes almost getting to me. “They’re fire.”

“No! I’m a free woman tonight!” I proclaim, leaning my elbows against the bar. Paige does the same, her side pressing into mine sending jolts all over me. 

“Fine, whatchu drinkin’ ma?” she asks. “Vodka soda?”

“With crush-”

“Crushed lime, I know.”

Paige orders the drink, paying for it without making it a big deal in any way. I always found her smoothness so incredibly sexy. Right now as she stood there, elbows on the bar, chewing on her bottom lip, shower fresh and beaming from the win, I swear I had never felt so attracted to her. It wasn’t just pure lust, but something else too. Something more.

“That third quarter,” I start, the praise immediately causing a smirk to grow on the blonde’s face.

“Yeah? You watched me?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I smile too, looking down to my feet. “You were born to do that.”

When our eyes meet again there’s a hint of something vulnerable and genuine in Paige’s expression. All the other noise seems to quiet down, leaving us in our own bubble, just us two. It bursts quickly when I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I know who it is before I even look, evident by the pure annoyance on Paige’s face.

“Hey babe are you fangirling over here?” She jokes, kissing my cheek. I pull away a little but Jay’s a few too many drinks in to notice.

Paige quickly smiles and shakes her head, sipping her drink. “Nah, I was. She makes the best dirty Shirley around, trust.”

I stare into her blue eyes, secretly enjoying this little game we were playing. Tiptoeing the line between strangers and something more.

“Yeah she insisted on getting me a drink for all the times she’s been yelling into my ear to play Drake,” I tease back, my mind immediately going to the many nights Paige had made her way behind the bar, one time even getting on her knees on the disgusting, sticky floor and begging me to let her play a few songs. From the smirk on her face, I know Paige is thinking the same.

Jay’s eyebrows shoot up watching us, clearly surprised. “Hm. No one told me you two know each other that well.”

“I mean we don’t, I just know she works here,” Paige quickly corrects, her brows furrowing as she points to me. “Your name’s uh… Vivien?”

“Valerie.”

Paige and me both smirk a little, Jay missing it completely. 

“Riiight sorry,” Paige grins, sipping her drink and turning to the blonde next to me. “Sick hat.” She’s being sarcastic.

“Thanks man, it’s my birthday,” Jay answers, a little flustered at the attention she was getting from the girl in front of us.

“Damn, happy birthday,” Paige says politely, patting Jay’s shoulder in a manner only I knew was condescending. 

Excusing herself, Paige leaves me and the blonde girl by the bar, every cell in my body screaming to follow her.

“Paige Bueckers just wished me happy birthday,” Jay says in awe.

-

The girl whose waist I’m holding, kissing my neck might as well not exist - I barely notice her. My stare is locked on Valerie and Justine, giggling and dancing in the corner of the packed bar. They look happy. 

A pang of guilt washes over me momentarily. Here’s Justine who, yeah sure is short, but really seems to like Valerie, takes good care of her. And maybe Valerie would learn to be happy with her if I just let her. The nauseating images of them adopting a dog together, getting married, raising children and growing old with each other flash through my mind. It’s enough to cause a tremble in my lower lip, my eyes welling up. The ache in my chest was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to admit.

“Can we go back to yours?” Clara hums, her teeth nibbling on my earlobe when a single tear rolls down my right cheek. I quickly wipe it off, my eyes finally turning to the girl next to me. To my relief she’s too busy trying to turn me on to notice my red eyes.

“Not now Clara,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the music and chatter.

The girl’s face scrunches up in annoyance as I push her off me, gently but with a firm hand.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been like this all night, it’s like I’m not even here.”

“Not now.” I rub the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes and trying to take calming breaths.

“If you don’t want me he-”

“I don’t want you here Clara, I didn’t even ask you to come.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between us, the girl next to me staring at me with wide eyes, hurt written all over her face. I wasn’t strong enough to fight how I felt anymore. It was time to face my feelings, even if it scared me.

“This is over, okay?” I admit, my gaze meeting Clara’s. She blinks at me slowly, processing. I feel like I should say something, explain myself. But nothing I could say would make it better so I stay quiet.

In silence, I watch Clara hop down from the bar stool and look at me one more time.

“My friends were right about you.”

With that she leaves Ted’s and relief washes over me. I grab my phone, and type out a text.

I’m sorry but I can’t see u anymore, just got too much going on

I copy and paste it, sending the words to each girl on my roster, not bothering to wait for any responses before deleting their numbers. Zoe, Jenny, Sofia, all gone. It was almost exhilarating, the way my body worked before my brain could catch up. Glancing to the opposite corner of the bar I finally catch Valerie’s eye. I nod my head towards the bathrooms before heading in myself. She’s quick to follow, leaving Justine behind. It was time to be brave, the kind of person who deserved Valerie.

The bathrooms are tiny, both of us making the space more cramped when I let Valerie in, locking the door behind us. Before she can say anything, her big brown eyes blinking at me, I’m kissing her. Not with any other agenda except aching to feel her lips on mine. My left hand cups her face, right hand holding her body close to me by her waist. Hungry for more, my tongue slips between her lips.

“Paige…” Valerie’s voice is soft against my lips, her breathing heavy as her hands hold my hips. 

“Shh,” I hum, my hands gently brushing through her hair as my kisses turn from hungry to loving, our lips slowing down in their dance. After a while we both pull away breathless, our foreheads resting against one another. Before my brain catches up, the words spill from my mouth.

“Leave her.”

Valerie’s brown eyes widen as she leans her head back to look at me.

“I- huh?” 

I swallow, thinking about doubling down for an instant. No. This needs to be it. Be brave Paige.

“Justine. Leave her.” There’s a hint of anxiety in my trembling voice, but the way I stare at the brunette girl in front of me lets her know I’m serious. Her expression is hard to read, the cramped space muffling the sounds of the world outside. In this moment it’s just us. Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I might really screw us up now. Lose her forever. But I didn’t have any fight left in me. It was bound to happen.

“Why?” she asks, her dark brows furrowing a little.

I scoff lightly, taking her hands in mine.

“Why? You know why.”

From the way Valerie blinks at me confirms that she did know - this wasn’t just sleeping around anymore, this had gone beyond. We both knew.

My thumbs smooth over the soft skin of her petite hands, the red polish decorating her nails, the chunky gold rings cool against my fingertips. I was trying to be patient, giving her time to process. But the pounding in my chest was making me lightheaded, the anxiety making my cheeks turn red. I felt vulnerable, exposed, terrified. Yet, I don’t speak or hurry her.

“No, stop it.”

Before I realise what’s happening, Valerie pulls her hands away from me, her eyes full of suspicion. My stomach stirs as she reaches for the door but I stop her.

“No, wait, please Val,” I plead, hand on the door handle.

“I can’t do this again,” Valerie cries out, her eyes filling with tears. I reach to wipe them away but she moves back from me. It breaks my heart.

“No ma, ‘s not like that this time. I left Clara, I left all of ‘em. Fuck all of ‘em ok? I don’t want ‘em!” My voice is desperate, chasing the brunette’s brown eyes as she avoids my gaze. 

“I need some air,” she murmurs, unlocking the door. However she doesn’t get far before bumping into Justine’s chest, standing right outside the bathroom eyeing both of us.

All three of us go silent as the blonde girl stares dumbfounded. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She slurs, alcohol evident in her voice.

“Jay I-” Valerie starts but Justine is quick to flip around and take hurried steps towards the exit. I follow the brunette out of Ted’s, the parking lot quiet on a rainy night.

“Jay, please wait! Let me explain!” Valerie pleads, grabbing Justine’s hand but she pushes her away, forcing the brunette to stumble back a little. My fingers flex with anger as I step between the two girls.

“Whoa, yo nuh uh,” I say sternly, shaking my head at Justine who’s looking at me like she might actually jump me. I wasn’t worried, I could take her. “Don’t touch her.”

The blonde scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You can’t tell me not to touch my girl!”

Her girl? I feel anger rising from my gut, heat ascending to my neck and cheeks. I step into her space, looking down at her as I do. 

“Don’t you get it?” I chuckle, an arrogant smirk on my face, basking in the way she had to tilt her head up to look at me. “Val’s not your girl.”

“Paige-” Valerie’s voice is careful behind me, her hand gently reaching for my forearm.

“You wanna know why she been too tired to come over? Because she’s been in my bed, getting fucked like she deserv-”

“PAIGE!”

Valerie pulls me back by my arm, her eyes wide and furious as she looks up at me. The adrenaline was making me bold, I wanted the world to know she’s mine. No one else’s. My Valerie.

“Fuck you both.” Justine slurs, heading back inside the bar, clearly not the fighting type. Deep deep down I wish she had jumped me just so I had the excuse to punch her at least once for calling Valerie her girl.

The brunette lets go of me and scoffs, shaking her head as she starts walking away from me. Suddenly coming to my senses, I follow behind her apologetically.

“Ma, wait.”

“Paige what are you doing?” She cries out, a desperate frustration evident in the way she speaks as she turns to look at me.

I step into her space, hands itching to touch her. Better not. Not right now. Biting my lower lip I sigh and shake my head.

“Sorry it just pissed me off hearing her-”

She’s not listening but profusely shaking her head, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand you, I don’t get what you want from me!” She bursts out. My hands come to hold her shoulders, taking it as a good sign when she lets me.

“I want you Val,” I finally admit. Not just to her but to myself.

“But what does that even mean?!” She’s clearly frustrated, tired of the confusing cat and mouse game we’d been playing since we met. I was tired too.

“Look ma, I’m done with all the other girls, and you’re done with Justine. I dunno what that means but-”

“But what? We date? Become girlfriends? Then what?” She spews. I rub my forehead and eyes with my hand, feeling my head spinning. Maybe I hadn’t thought this through.

“Maybe-”

“Until you find the next girl you wanna fuck? Or freak out again?”

“No Val not this time-”

“How do you know?” She asks, a hint of desperation in her voice, looking for any sign that this was a risk worth taking.

“I uh,” I mumble, my skin turning hot, bringing my hands behind my head, rubbing my hair, trying to soothe myself.

“How do you know, Paige?!” Valerie screams, her big brown eyes pleading with me for a reason. Before my brain could catch up my mouth’s already forming the words. The words I had not had the time to admit to myself yet - that feeling that had been gnawing at me for weeks now. The twist in my gut, the dizziness in my head. I finally understood.

“Because I love you Valerie!”

-

taglist:  @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @bueckersfive @onlyhereforpazzi @lovegalor333 @frankoceanlvr303039 @angryflowerwitch@mamixdanni @rosemariiaa @d3arapril @vbueckers @sageworld @makethemhoesmad @sierrale8ne @justliketoreadsowhat@oreo2sblog @sftlyortega @slvt4her @julieloveswbb@vsz333 @faeries-posts @vamptizm @ellapurnellmybeloved @ivorygoal @onlyhereforpazzi @thelightknight21@paigeluvvr@absolutelydreadful@imamartini@lupinqs@authentic-girl03@isurpussygreen@xxloveralways14 (SORRY IF I FORGOT TO TAG)

[mxflowercheck]

Not sure i can consider myself exactly bilingual, i didn’t grow up in English speaking setting, i learned it as a second language. But than i was in boarding school for two years and well, firstly a lot of terminology about school life was from English. Secondly our boarding staff used English with us on a daily basis. This resulted in almost everyone in school speaking runglish (russian + English) + casually switching to English because why not

So! Things that i and my friends have done / still do / have witnessed

• Often switch to English to talk about heavy topics or feelings. It’s a second language for all of us, so it kinda puts some..distance from all the emotions

• On multiple occasions i caught us all writing messages, where we spell an english word in Cyrillic and then switch to English fully

• Generally we often write English words in Cyrillic for various reasons

• We don’t notice that we code switch. On multiple occasions i said a very common for me phrase and my mother was just starring at me until i understood that the phrase was in English and i needed to translate

• Forgetting a word in both languages NEVER GETS OLD. BELIEVE ME. But usually it’s not something complicated, no, i can remember how to write deoxyribonucleic acid in both languages but forget the word “early”

• two years ago i tried learning Spanish. When we were writing essays in English class i wrote “trabajador” meaning “hardworking”. I knew something was wrong with it but i didn’t know WHAT. I didn’t understand until my teacher pointed it out for me

• I personally do not analyse English abbreviations. Sometimes i forget it has A TRANSLATION. Or a full version. Once i said “wtf” in front of my boarding staff and well it took me three shocked stares and a “ Valery!” to realise it’s not just a phrase with “what the hell” meaning but a swearing.

• *tries to speak English but fails because it’s too early* *tries to speak Russian but fails because brain demands that this setting needs ENGLISH*

• My first sports club, where not only the coach counted, but also the kids - aikido. We counted in Japanese. i haven't practiced Aikido for about three or fours years, but every time i do sports, i count in Japanese to myself

• Grammar? Spelling? Vocabulary. Oh no, what IS confusing IS PUNCTUATION. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE CODESWITCHING.

• at least one of my friends also spells difficult words while writing, but not with the correct pronunciation. we read them as if they're written in Cyrillic/pronounce every letter. It helps with not messing up the letter (for example when I write various i read it as ВЭРИОУС in my mind because I'm a) silly b) ADHD and often mess up the order of vowels when typing fast)

• OH ALSO - some of us (including me) don't have a stable accent. You watch Shelock - you''re British, you watch TikToks from a South American - you're South American. Or! Sometimes accents sticks to phrases and words :D. So it goes like

*speaking with one accent/neutral accent* *uses the Britishest accent in the world for ONE PHRASE* *continues normally*

• Dialects are the Death Of Us. My guy, i have NO fucking idea which pronunciation of "dance" is for UK and which is for America AND I LEARNED THAT WORD WHEN I WAS SIX!!!!

• interjections and sounds are ALSO confusing! You'd think we make similar sounds of surprise or joy or sadness. WE DON'T.

i keep adding things god help

anyway

• people can have different names for different languages! I don't consider my legal name (Lera) to be my deadname, i like it! but don't usually use it in English speaking spaces because...English doesn't have the sounds (it has similar sounds but still)...that are in my name...and it sounds VERY STRANGE

• same with pronouns btw! English doesn't gender verbs, adjectives, nouns, your way to point out gender is simple - pronouns. But in Russian words change depending on a gender ( he is clever - он умнЫЙ, she is clever - она умнАЯ). And the way words change for they/them pronouns doesn't sound right to me, so I don't use they/them for myself in Russian, only she/he! But i don't mind in English, because verbs, adjectives and etc don't change :)

im going to have a stroke

[homunculus-argument]

do you try to make your food that gray, or does it just turn out like that?????

also whats your favorite word

My secret is actually black mustard. It's the most delicious stuff, makes everything taste amazing and look horrifying.

My favourite finnish word is "solina" - the sound of moving/falling/running water. My favourite english word is "defenestration" - the act of throwing someone out of a window. My favourite swedish word is "gråtrunka" - the act of jacking off while crying (or crying while jacking off). I don't have a favourite word in any other languages.

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗔 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦𝗡'𝗧 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗠𝗘 ˚. ᵎᵎ 

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Ok, so, I realized this would be TOO long, and I decided I'll turn it into a little series, this will all be mostly fluff, I hope you like it ;)

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Ekko stood just outside the bustling doors of The Last Drop, his fingers brushing against the worn metal frame. He should go inside. But his feet felt rooted to the ground, as if stepping through the threshold would make this dream—this impossibility—permanent. His head ached, pounding from the sensory overload of it all.

Zaun was alive.

Not just scraping by, not the grimy, cutthroat existence he knew from his world. This Zaun thrived. The sunlight poured into the streets, and it wasn’t muted by the familiar haze of toxins. The air was clean, crisp even, and the people walking by wore smiles so wide it made his chest ache.

No one carried weapons. Children darted through the alleyways, laughing and chasing each other without a care. There was no shimmer-induced violence, no crime, no constant fear. It was… wrong.

He took a deep breath and stepped inside, the familiar ring of the bar’s bell announcing his arrival. The sound brought with it a rush of memories—the Last Drop wasn’t a place for laughter in his Zaun. But here?

Laughter echoed off the walls, bright and unrestrained. His stomach churned.

Near the bar, Silco leaned against the counter, with a glass in hand. He was laughing—Silco was laughing, that man had ruined lives, poisoned Zaun with Shimmer, and killed countless innocents. And now, he stood here, calm and smiling as if his sins had never existed. The sight nearly sent Ekko spinning. Vander was there beside him, his booming voice and broad grin like something out of a half-forgotten dream. They clinked their glasses together, joined by Benzo, whose hearty chuckles filled the room.

Benzo.

Ekko’s breath hitched. He’d never thought he’d see his old mentor again, not in this life. But there he was, as real and alive as the air filling his lungs.

The sound of scraping chairs brought his attention to the two figures approaching him.

“Yo, Ekko!”

Mylo’s voice. Ekko’s stomach twisted again. Mylo and Claggor—older now, but unmistakable—waved at him, wide grins plastered on their faces. They strolled over like this was an ordinary day.

Except it wasn’t.

Not for him.

“Where you been, little man?” Mylo asked, clapping a hand on Ekko’s shoulder like they hadn’t been dead in his world. Claggor chuckled, adding, “Thought we’d have to drag you in here.”

Ekko’s throat tightened. It was surreal talking to ghosts, and his eyes darted between them, searching for something—anything—to ground him. They were so casual, so alive, as if they’d never been stolen by the explosion. The undead boys said something about going to get their drinks and that they would be back in a moment, but their words were white noise against the pounding of his heart. It was as if ghosts had stepped out of the past, solid and warm.

Ekko struggled to keep his breathing steady, his gaze darting between the faces he had mourned and buried in another life. He had thought he’d moved on. He was wrong.

“Are you all right, my boy?” Heimerdinger’s soft voice broke through the fog.

The old yordle was there too, standing on a stool at the far corner of the bar, his ears perked up.

“No,” Ekko admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”

Heimerdinger nodded knowingly, as if he had expected the answer.

“Adjusting to a reality that isn’t your own can be disorienting, to say the least. But don’t worry. We’ll sort it out soon enough.”

The cheer in his voice was almost infuriating. Ekko wanted to demand answers, to ask what exactly had happened and why he was here, but before he could say anything, the bell above the door jingled.

The air shifted.

Ekko turned instinctively, his senses on high alert.

What walked through that door wasn’t danger or threat, but it hit him just as hard. A little boy, no older than six, darted inside with a burst of energy, his laughter echoing like a bell.

His heart stopped.

He looked just like—

“Dad!”

The high-pitched voice shattered his thoughts, and a small body barreled into him. Ekko stumbled back, his arms instinctively wrapping around the boy who had launched himself into his chest.

The little boy looked up at him, a bright, joyful grin lighting up his face.

Ekko froze.

The kid had his eyes—wide and curious—, his hair, even the same nose, the same cheeky smile. It was like looking into a mirror of a younger version of himself.

“Dad?” he repeated, his voice barely audible.

The boy tilted his head, confusion flickering across his face. It was a gesture so familiar it sent a chill down Ekko’s spine—you always did that when you didn’t understand something he was saying.

That was Wyeth. His baby. Except he wasn’t a baby anymore.

“Wyeth…” Ekko whispered, his voice cracking.

The boy beamed.

“That’s me!”

It felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him.

“Look at you, big guy,” Mylo teased, coming up behind him with his drink on hand. “You’re gonna be taller than your old man in no time.”

Wyeth giggled, the sound light and carefree. Ekko stared at the three of them, his throat dry.

This was wrong. It was all wrong.

Why didn’t he remember any of this? Why didn’t he see Wyeth grow? Why did it feel like he had been robbed of something so precious that his chest ached with the loss?

“Little Wyeth causing trouble again, huh?”

Claggor laughed.

“Like father, like son.”

This wasn’t his Zaun. And this wasn’t the Wyeth he’d cradled in his arms just days—or was it hours?—ago in his world.

“Papa?” Wyeth’s small hand tugged at Ekko’s collar, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Ekko blinked, swallowing hard.

“Just… thinking.”

The door opened again, and Ekko’s breath caught again.

You stepped in, radiant and full of life, your eyes scanning the room before landing on Ekko. Time seemed to slow as you approached, the crowd parting instinctively for you. You looked different. Less burdened, happier, but still undeniably you.

Your gaze moved between Ekko and the boy, and you set your hands on your hips.

“My love,” you began, a stern edge to your voice. “What did I say about helping Wyeth with his inventions?”

Ekko blinked, caught off guard. He struggled for an answer, but Benzo stepped in with a sheepish grin.

“Don’t look at him, it was me,” Benzo said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Kid’s got a knack.”

Your brow furrowed, a mix of exasperation and affection in your expression.

“Your innocent grandson broke a window with that innocent rocket, Benzo.”

Mylo snorted with laughter, only to catch your pointed glare and immediately fall silent. Ekko couldn’t help the corner of his lips twitching upward. You were always like this, commanding a room with little more than a glance. Even here, in this strange world, you hadn’t changed. But as he stared at you, a sinking feeling tugged at his chest. This wasn’t the you he knew—not exactly.

You turned your attention back to Ekko.

“He’s grounded,” you said firmly, then softened. “Where’s Violet?”

For a moment, he thought you were talking about Vi—his Vi, the fierce protector who had been his friend and hero.

He faltered.

“Vi…?”

Before he could stumble over an answer, Claggor spoke up from behind him.

“She’s with Powder.”

Powder? That name didn’t fit the person he knew now. Powder was long gone, buried beneath the chaos of Jinx. And yet, here, it seemed to mean something else entirely.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the subtle shift in Ekko’s demeanor.

“You okay?”

Ekko forced a smile, though his heart felt heavy.

“Yeah,” he said. “Just… tired.”

You reached out, brushing your hand against his arm in a gesture so familiar it sent a pang of longing through him.

“We’ll talk later,” you said softly, your gaze lingering on him before you took Wyeth’s hand and led the boy toward the back of the bar.

You're going to have a serious talk with that little one about his recklessness.

Ekko watched you go, his mind racing. This world was a dream come to life, a version of reality where everything he’d lost had been restored.

But it wasn’t his world. He has to go.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @moonlight-dreamer04 @serena6728 @kriss-w @sturngs @iloveavatar @chaeisbroke

You can ask me to tag you in future chapters if you want! 😸

[maniculum]

Hear me out: this is a mostly plausible alternate history alphabet.

The places where this one is wrong are all the most RECENT changes to the English alphabet.* So clearly we’re looking at an alternate history with a point of divergence sometime around the late medieval / early modern period. It's got to be a post-printing-press era because the handful of letters that occurred in English but not Latin during the medieval period are all absent, and the development of the printing press was the final push that made English drop them.**

First, ⟨j⟩ wasn’t invented in this timeline. Note that ⟨j⟩ is a very recent letter; there’s no attestation of it being used to represent a distinct sound before the 16th century, and that idea didn’t make it into English until the 17th century. Before then, ⟨i⟩ was doing extra duty. ⟨j⟩ actually developed from a variant of ⟨i⟩ �� if you’re familiar with the “long s”, it’s like if someone decided that we should split it off as its own letter, so e.g. ⟨s⟩ made the /s/ sound and ⟨ſ⟩ made the /ʃ/ sound.*** There was a conventional usage where sometimes you'd put a little hook on the ⟨i⟩ depending on its position in the word, just like the long s was position-dependent, and we turned the hooked ⟨i⟩ into ⟨j⟩.

Second, ⟨w⟩ developed differently. Now, ⟨w⟩ as its own letter is also recent, BUT there was already a substantial history of people using a literal double-u -- ⟨uu⟩ -- to represent that sound. However, the differentiation between ⟨u⟩ and ⟨v⟩ is also quite recent, following similar logic to the ⟨i⟩ and ⟨j⟩ thing from above, and developing around the same timeframe, which is why even though we call ⟨w⟩ a "double-u" in English, it looks more like a double-v (and in fact some languages call it that). At the time we named it, those were functionally the same thing; whether the name solidified as "double-u" or "double-v" was pretty much arbitrary. Anyway, you could interpret this alternate alphabet as having split ⟨w⟩ in two at the same time they split ⟨u⟩ and ⟨v⟩: perhaps the ⟨w⟩ with the blob in the middle could represent a "crossed" ⟨w⟩.**** If you want a speculative usage of the second ⟨w⟩ (which we could name "double-v"), I propose that one could represent /w/ and the other could represent /ʍ/.***** Of course, if I were designing an alphabet that split ⟨w⟩, I'd literally do a double-u and a double-v, so that the two characters were ⟨ɯ⟩ and ⟨w⟩.

The semicolon is a tough one, and the reason I described this as MOSTLY plausible. The only possible explanation I can advance is that its inclusion is inspired by the history of the ampersand, ⟨&⟩. For a time, ⟨&⟩ was included as a letter of the English alphabet, usually listed at the end. One could imagine the designer of this alternate alphabet as deciding that they also wanted to change things up by including a punctuation mark, and picking ⟨;⟩. But of course this is misguided, because in fact ⟨&⟩ isn't a punctuation mark; it's a ligature of ⟨et⟩, and I believe technically it qualifies as a logogram.

* I specify "English" because I am not up on the history of orthographical innovation in other languages that use the Latin alphabet. I’m sure there have been more recent changes in other languages’ implementation of the Latin alphabet, but these are the most recent changes that apply to English.

** When Europeans first started making movable type, it was designed to print Latin, so letters not in Latin weren’t available, meaning printed texts couldn’t have ⟨ð⟩, ⟨þ⟩, ⟨ƿ⟩, or ⟨ȝ⟩. Some Norse languages held onto ⟨ð⟩ and/or ⟨þ⟩ anyway and eventually people did make type for them, but English ditched them pretty quickly. To my knowledge no current writing system uses ⟨ƿ⟩ or ⟨ȝ⟩; ⟨ƿ⟩ didn't seem to fully catch on even in the medieval period, and I don't think ⟨ȝ⟩ was ever in use outside of the British Isles. English orthography was kind of already phasing out its extra letters even before printing arrived, so they never had a chance.

*** For people who don’t know IPA, /ʃ/ is the sound English currently represents with ⟨sh⟩. English apparently decided that “add an ⟨h⟩” was the basic solution to differentiating any two consonant sounds, as likewise it replaced ⟨ð⟩/⟨þ⟩ with ⟨th⟩ and ⟨ȝ⟩ with ⟨gh⟩.

**** Annoyingly, there's no Unicode symbol for "crossed W", but it's the style that they use in the Wikipedia logo if you want an example. The two ⟨V⟩s overlap in a kind of x shape instead of meeting at a point in the middle.

***** The phoneme /ʍ/ does occur in English, but it's a little hard for me to describe because it's fallen out of a lot of dialects, including my own. If you pronounce ⟨w⟩ and ⟨wh⟩ differently, your ⟨wh⟩ is probably /ʍ/.

One of the greatest Tweets and it hasn't even existed for 24 hours

[sunfairiess]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader

tropes: 3rd person narration | sarah cameron’s pov | childhood best friends to lovers | brother’s best friend | best friend’s sister | fluff | soft boy jj

synopsis: sarah cameron meets her boyfriend’s sister for the first time, and understands what being soulmates means.

warnings: cursing, slightly mention of violence

wc: 2.9k

it’s my first time writing a character x reader (and actually writing a ff in years lmao) so i really hope this turned out well! also, i apologize for any typos or grammar errors but english is not my first language <3

song rec: about you - the 1975 ♡

“c’mon guys, time to go back. it’s starting to freeze out here.” pope said, placing his fishing rod by his side before getting up and walking towards the helm of the boat, kiara following him to keep him some company. he was right: the temperature had started to drop, and honestly he didn’t even know why the pogues decided to go fishing at the end of november.

they were all there, except for the pogue princess as they liked to call her. she was john b’s younger sister, just by one year; and even though she was definitely a pogue down to her core, she actually almost looked like a kook: she was always composed, never drank too much, never even touched a cigarette or a joint, and she worked her ass off every afternoon at the country club to help john b with the bills and to afford a few of the things she liked.

she was smart, kind, the type of girl to lighten up a room with the sound of her laughter. she was also one of the reasons why the ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking‘ rule was made: everyone kind of had a thing for her, and jj maybank was the first in line.

“i seriously regret coming, i think i’m going into hypothermia.” jj said, shuddering a little bit. yes, it was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. jj just liked to be dramatic.

“gosh, you’re such a pussy.” john b laughed, smacking his best friend behind the head. they’ve know each other for more than ten years now. they weren’t friends anymore, they were brothers. they loved and cared for each other very deeply, even if they were acting like jerks most of the time.

as pope started the engine of the hms pogue, ready to go back to the château, john b took his sweatshirt off to pass it to sarah, his new girlfriend. she was a kook, but she was different. she didn’t care about how dissimilar their lives were, she loved spending time with the pogues because they were real. they were amazing friends, they were funny and smart, and the kind of people you could have a serious conversation with. they weren’t superficial like the kooks, and she loved them for this.

she felt a little tap on her leg, catching with her vision her boyfriend’s sweater. she gave john b a smile and slid the blue piece of clothing on. “so, i’m meeting your sister for the first time today, uh. big step.” sarah joked, slightly pushing his arm.

since the first moment they started dating, john b had always talked about how he wanted her to meet his sister. she was the most important person in his life, especially after his dad went missing at sea during a storm. he actually wanted sarah to meet her right away, but she asked him to wait a couple of months, just to see if they were solid about this relationship. “yup, and trust me you’re gonna love her. she’s like a little ball of sunshine, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” he said, smiling at the thought how of sweet his sister was with everyone.

“he’s right. i don’t think i’ve even ever seen her mad.” jj stated, shifting his seat from john b’s right to sarah’s left.

“she seems really nice, but i’m not worried about me liking her, because, by what you guys always say about her, i already do. i’m just worried she won’t like me, you know because of the whole pogue-kook thing.”

everyone bursted out laughing at sarah’s words, her face more confused than ever. “what? what did I say?” kiara left pope at the helm of the boat, and went to sit in front of her, crossing her legs together. “you don’t need to worry about that, she doesn’t give a shit about the rivalry. trust me, she looks like she walked out of a cruise brochure. the only thing she wants is to see her brother with someone who makes him happy, which you do, so she’s totally gonna be fine with it.” sarah smiled at her words, feeling a bit more relieved now.

even though pope wasn’t seating next to them, he could still perfectly hear their conversation and see sarah’s tensed body. that’s why he decided to lighten up a bit the discussion. “you know, one time she made jj dress up as a reindeer.” he said getting out a chuckle at the memory of jj dressed as one of santa claus’s reindeers.

kiara followed him with a loud laughter “oh my god it’s true, i almost forgot it.”

sarah gave them an amazed look. she was enjoying this too much to not say anything. “okay, this is actually the funniest thing i’ve ever heard. did you had a red nose like little rudolph, too?” she said with a smirk, turning her head towards jj’s.

“oh shut up, all of you. i only did it because she asked. besides, she looked so happy when i changed into that costume. i would honestly do it again.” jj let out an involontary smile at the thought of y/n. it was like this all the time: wether he wanted it or not, the only thought of y/n made him feel like he was the happiest man on earth, even if he wasn’t. she just had that effect on him.

“god, it’s sickening how whipped you are for my sister.” john b said, mimicking a gag reflex.

jj rolled his eyes at his words. sarah switching her gaze between the two boys sitting one to her left, and the other to her right. she then stopped to look at jj. “wait- you like y/n?”

“like? hell, he loves that girl. he’s been in love with her since he was six. the random hook ups he has? that’s all for show. he only does it to not draw suspicion, since the only girl he’d like to fuck— and sorry john b— is y/n.” pope said, fully exposing his friend’s feelings.

not that jj cared anyway. everyone knew how he felt about her, he didn’t even try to deny it anymore.

“and you’re completely fine with it?“ sarah asked john b, knowing how protective he was when it came to his sister.

“i wasn’t always. first time he told me he loved her? i punched him. not my finest moment but i was kinda mad.” john b replied, slightly chuckling, reminiscing his right fist hitting jj’s jawbone. “i mean, the day before he tells me he sees her as a little sister and then that he wants to sleep with her? hell nah, i wasn’t having that.”

“and what changed your mind?”

“because it’s jj. i know my best friend, and i know how much he cares for her. i knew he was never going to hurt her, i’m actually pretty sure he would die for her.”

sarah nodded along. the look on jj’s face confirming that what john b had just said was a hundred percent true. in that moment a thought crossed her mind, making her think about how what jj and y/n must’ve been something truly special.

“bubba, we’re home.” john b shouted, as he opened the château’s door. the house was silent, except for a light melody coming from the bathroom and the sound of the shower running. “shower! be right there!” sarah heard y/n shout back, as every one of the pogues sat on the couch: her ending up between her boyfriend and kiara, next to who was seated pope; and a bit far away from them jj. she figured he left the space empty for y/n.

about ten minutes later, while the pogues were having a conversation about an upcoming party at the boneyard, a sixteen year old girl came out of the bathroom, wearing a pink sweater and long white sweatpants. white socks at her feet and long wet hair cascading down her back. she walked up to them, bending slightly to place a kiss on her brother’s cheek, and proceeding to do the same with all the others.

she then retraced her steps and stopped in front of sarah. “so you’re the reason why my brother stopped being a cranky old lady.” she smiled, offering her her right hand. “i’m y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“sarah. it’s a pleasure to meet you too, john b’s always talking about you.” sarah replied, shaking her hand. y/n let out a small laugh, as she walked towards the end of the couch were jj was seated.

she plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her bottom and leaning into him. he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently leaving a kiss to the side of her head. “he’s always talking about you too. i swear the other night he woke me up around 3am just to tell me how amazing your date was. which, don’t get me wrong, i was very happy to hear about.”

“you literally throw a pillow in my face.” john b said.

“duh, because you woke me at 3 fucking a.m. i love you bird, but for gods sakes let a girl sleep.” she replied, making everyone laugh at her comment.

the conversation resumed pretty quickly, this time through with jj paying way less attention to it, more focused on the girl next to him.

the entire evening, between laughters and bottles of beers, sarah observed how jj and y/n were always caught up in their whole world. jj’s hands being constantly on her body, wether it was a arm around her shoulders or his hand on her leg. they were glued to each other, sometimes even whispering between them words only they could catch.

for the second time that day, sarah thought about how jj and y/n’s bond was special, going beyond simple friendship.

it was almost two a.m. when kie and pope left, both returning to their respective houses to avoid their parents storming out on them. sarah instead was going to spend the night there, so since jj and john b were on the front porch smoking a joint, obviously a jj’s idea, she and y/n were the only two people moving around the living room, cleaning up the mess of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes.

the whole night she noticed how jj and y/n acted around each other, so since they were now alone, she just felt like she had to ask. “so what’s the deal between you and jj?”

“there’s no deal, we’re friends.” y/n said calmly.

“bullshit, i noticed the way you look at him and how he looks at you. that’s the look of love, sweetie.” sarah decided not to mention how jj actually felt about her. it wasn’t her place to say tell the truth.

“nah, jj would never go for someone like me. he only sees me as a little sister, besides i’m not even his type.” she replied, giving her a kind smile, even though she felt like a lump was stuck right down her throat. y/n always knew she wasn’t the kind of girl jj would want, the were total polar opposites, and truthfully she never even considered herself that much beautiful to have a chance with him.

“since when jj has a type? doesn’t he hits on every breathing human being?” sarah knew this probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but sometimes people needed a little push to blurt out their feelings. to her surprise though, y/n laughed, most likely because she knew how their friend had a habit of flirting with almost every girl he met. it didn’t matter if they were pogues or tourons, or hell even kooks sometimes. a pretty girl is a pretty girl, doesn’t matter where she comes from.

“kinda, but he always hooks up with victoria-secrets-models type of girls, if you get what i mean. and apart from that, we want different things. he doesn’t do relationships and i don’t do random hook ups. not to mention how the possibility of me and jj being together would probably give an aneurysm to my brother.”

“eh, i wouldn’t be so sure about that, ya know. either way though, you like him, don’t you?“ sarah said, remembering the conversation she and the other guys had on the boat.

busted. y/n stayed silent, sailing her lips in a thin, straight line. she then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to spill everything out. she figured it was time to tell the truth anyway, since sarah clearly figured everything out.

“i met jj when i was four, we were in kindergarten and some older boys were picking on me. i was smaller and basically on the edge of tears, until i saw this blonde boy running towards me and putting himself between us. even if he was younger than them he still took my defense. after that he walked me home and told me he was a friend of john b’s. since that day, i don’t think i’ve ever liked someone that wasn’t him.“

she took a small pause, just to catch her breath. but she was so caught up in narrating the whole story, that she didn’t notice john b and jj leaning against the doorframe.

jj’s eyes almost bursting out of his face at her words, not expecting to hear her confession. john b, very aware of how his best friend was going to lose his shit any minute now, he places his finger against his mouth, mimicking him to shut up.

“as we grew older the roles kinda reversed and i started to look out for him: when he would come here bruised because of his father i would hug him and clean him up; even if younger than him i helped him study, you know just avoiding he would fail some subjects. at night, dad used to let him sleep next to me or john b because he didn’t want to be alone, thing that of course dad prohibited when i turned twelve. that didn’t stop him though: he would sneak out as soon as john b would fall asleep and come under the covers with me.”

she let out a laugh. “would sir. freud love this? probably yes, but it doesn’t matter. he deserves someone that cares for him, everyone does. and it’s not pity or mercy, i genuinely want to be there for him, because he deserves the best. yet, because of his father he’s convinced he’s worthless, but he’s not. gosh, he’s so funny and smart, which i know sounds weird but he is. he would die for his friends and cares so much for us. and i’m sure he could make it out of obx if only he wanted to. and he’s always so supportive and gen-“

she could’ve kept going on, but she suddenly noticed the two boys staring right up at her. jj’s eyes were watery, like he was going to cry any second now. he didn’t cry much, only when really fucked up things happened in his life, but for the first time he felt like crying not because he was sad and tired but because he was happy. because finally he could’ve had something great going on in his life. he could’ve had her.

without saying anything he launched himself into y/n’s arms, letting her stumble back due to the rushed impact between their bodies. he hold her tight, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. his face placed in the space between her shoulder and her neck, breathing in the smell of the coconut soap she always used. he didn’t care about sarah and john b still being in the room, he wouldn’t even care if a freaking zebra walked in the house. she was the only thing that mattered. she was his whole universe.

“you shouldn’t eavesdrop, maybank.” she said with a smirk, putting a bit of distance between their bodies so she could look at him in the face, but still managing to play with the of hair at the nape of his neck.

“did you actually mean it? like for real?”

“every word, jay. you know me, i would never lie to you.”

jj maybank was impulsive. half of the time he never thought before acting, which pretty much resulted in him dealing with the aftermath of his stupid decisions. that’s why he didn’t think twice in grabbing y/n’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers.

at first he felt her stiffening, probably surprised by his gesture, and for a moment he really thought he had just screwed everything up. but then her hands went to his shirt, yanking him even closer if possible, and he sensed her relaxing, her lips moving against his.

after what seemed like hours, he pulled back, only because they both needed air. if it was up to him, he would’ve spent hours kissing her without getting a break.

“i’ve been loving you for a long time, princess.” she smiled, her cheeks almost hurting because of all the happiness she was feeling.

“well, you’re very lucky then, because i’ve been loving you for a long time too.”

“i can’t watch this, i think i’m gonna throw up.”

sarah nudged her elbow into her boyfriend stomach, giving him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up or i’m killing you’. john b raised his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

and, as they watched jj starting to kiss y/n again, sarah thought of how her own relationship was truly amazing. but in her opinion? what y/n and jj had was the true definition of soulmates.

[megamindsecretlair]

Give Me Everything

Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, use of the n-word, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.

Summary: Thanksgiving Day was always a hustle and bustle of activity and noise, two things you don’t usually like even coming from a big family. While you flitted around checking in on everyone, you couldn’t help feeling a little selfish. After sending Terry a sexy picture while he was seated next to your father, you sneak off to your childhood bedroom to fulfill a little fantasy of yours.

Word Count: 5,518k

AO3 Link

A/N: Ya'll thought I was gonna let the holiday pass without a little treat? I lost the drabble challenge, but well, can't fight my brain no matter how hard I try. Happy Thanksgiving, happy bank holiday, or however you celebrate, many love and blessings to the greatest group of people ever. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

The rich smells of Thanksgiving food permeated the air and tickled your nostrils. You inhaled deeply as you flitted around the kitchen helping out the Aunties. No one messed with the Aunties on Thanksgiving.

You didn’t know how they managed to stay organized among the chaos. Between one of their husbands who constantly entered the kitchen asking when the food would be done and the little kids running throughout the house, it was a miracle they weren’t yelling and cursing up a storm.

“Fix me my medicine, baby,” Auntie Gee told you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you said. You pivoted away from helping Auntie Aileen with the yams and went over to the small pantry, grabbing supplies. You made a quick and dirty margarita for Auntie Gee and placed it in a glass. You already started in on another one because in one, two, three…

“I want one!” Auntie Mimi called out. You smiled to yourself, knowing your Aunties a little too well. Maybe you spent too much time around them all. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Your big family was a handful at times. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but good vibes and great conversation. The Aunties were currently going on about their favorite man, Denzel Washington.

“That man been fine his whole goddamn life!” Auntie Hope called from the round kitchen table. She cleaned the greens, taking the stems off and putting them into a red bowl, to be soaked in the kitchen sink a little later. Right now, your mom was at the farmhouse sink peeling potatoes. 

“Language, young lady!” Your grandmother, Grammy Alice, called out from the stove. She babysat the white sauce for the mac and cheese, carefully adding cheese and stirring to get the mixture right. 

“Sorry, momma,” Auntie Hope said. She grinned at you and winked. 

You giggled and handed Auntie Mimi her drink. “Thank you baby. You better get outta here before they snatch you to do something else,” she whispered.

And that’s why she was lowkey your favorite Auntie. You hugged and thanked her and then quietly slipped out while the Aunties discussed Denzel’s career. They categorically denounced Training Day as his best role. He was just playing a nigga, that’s all. They were stuck between John Q and Glory.

You left the spacious kitchen in a flash, disappearing around the corner and fell into the background as you soaked everything in. The well-decorated living room held most of the men yelling and screaming at the football game playing on the TV. They sat on the blue couch, lounge chairs, and picnic chairs all crowded around the large screen TV. You didn’t know a lick about the game, but by the sound of it, their team was making stupid ass decisions. 

Kids played Monopoly on the floor, a mix of little kids and the quieter teens who didn’t want to play with the older, rowdier teens outside. You carefully picked your way through the living room, stopping to place a kiss on your Dad’s withered cheek. You patted his shoulder and he brought his hand up to pat yours.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yes, sir. Food coming along,” you said.

He groaned aloud with the Uncles and boyfriends, everyone throwing up their hands and calling the ref out of his name.

“They need to get that blind mu’fucka off the field!” Uncle Cornell said. He was the only one semi-dressed up in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt. You didn’t know where Auntie Mimi found this character. 

Your dad chuckled, returning his attention to you. “Good, good. I’ma just sit here until your mom says it’s time,” your dad said with a secret grin. He made the mistake of entering the kitchen early one year, reaching for a piece of the ham and receiving a swift spoon to the back of the hand from Grammy Alice. He still had a little scar from how hard she popped him. 

“Probably for the best,” you said with a giggle. 

You left the living room, trekking through the raucous house in search for a little bit of peace. As much as you loved how big your family was, you were decidedly the opposite sometimes. You didn’t draw strength from being around so many people. You craved the quiet and silence that came with being by your lonesome. Probably a consequence of being an only child.

Perhaps that was one of the main things that drew you to your husband, Terry. He was the opposite to your family as well. Calm under pressure, quiet and unassuming despite his size; he really was perfect for you. 

You found him on the wide back porch with your cousins, sitting around a table playing dominoes. The teens and older cousins chased each other around the yard playing some game they made up years ago. You never understood the rules and your ass was too tired to continue chasing them around.

Some of the girl cousins watched their younger, baby siblings as they talked about whatever it was kids were into these days. Full. Your life was full to bursting and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You approached Terry and pecked his cheek. “Hey baby,” Terry said, lowering his dominoes to the table. He turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist from his seated position. 

“Just checking on you, is all,” you said. “You need anything?” 

Terry used his free hand to lift his half empty beer bottle. “Naw, I should be good for a minute. You need anything?” 

“She needs to leave the table so I can get back to whoopin’ yo ass, Marine boy!” Your cousin, Emery, yelled as he slammed down a domino. “Go on and put that thirty-five down for your boy!” He snickered as the game keeper, Darell, laughed and marked down Emery’s points. 

Terry chuckled and shook his head. He peeked over at the scorecard on the notebook by Darell’s elbow. “Maybe you need to go back to math class. I’m still winning,” Terry said. 

A chorus of oooh’s and damn’s and “You gon’ let him talk to you like that, playboy?” rung around the wooden table. Emery waved them all off, a small smile on his face. 

“Alright, alright. Game ain’t over. Why don’t you go on? You killing the mood, girl,” Emery said. 

“I’m killing the mood? Just like a hatin’ nigga to focus on somebody else while he losing,” you said.

“Damn!” Cousin Craig yelled out, his long skinny face cracking into a harsh, wheezing laugh that only triggered everybody else to start laughing. 

You kissed Terry on the cheek once more, admiring the clean beard on his face. He looked good enough to eat himself. He wore a simple powder blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that really showcased his sexy ass. Just looking at him caused your stomach to do little belly flips.

Terry squeezed your side and smirked up at you as if he saw the direction of your nasty thoughts. He winked at you and you bid your farewell to the men and their little game. 

The majority of the day passed too quickly as you went from group to group, checking in on everyone. The domino game ended and the cousins joined the Uncles in the living room to check on the remainder of the game.

“Girl, don’t you ever sit down?” Your cousin, Robyn, asked. She was in your age group, relaxing with the other girl cousins who laid across multiple blankets, sipping their drinks of choice, and chilling out. 

You chuckled. “Girl no. Between your momma and mine, I keep getting called to do something. And I feel like if I sit down, I’ma pass out,” you said, shaking your head. 

Robyn and Ronda were twins of Auntie Aileen’s and they both shivered at the mention of their mother. “Please, don’t summon her,” Ronda said, shaking her head. “That lady trynna get me set up with her co-worker.” She stuck out her tongue and gagged.

“Not toxic enough for you?” Auntie Hope’s daughter, Stacie, asked.

“Hell no! That girl likes…theater,” Ronda said, making the word sound dirty. You laughed with your cousins, shaking your head at her. Ronda had the worst luck with women. Last year, one threatened to throw herself into traffic if Ronda didn’t come outside to talk to her. 

You and your cousins merely stared at her through the screen door and dared her to do it. You didn’t really mean it, but the girl was dramatic as hell and too full of herself to actually go through with it. 

“Dare I go check in on the Aunties?” You asked.

There was a resounding, “No!”, that seemed to echo even while outside. You laughed with your cousins. You were feeling restless, though. Anxious. You needed something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Maybe it was just the holiday. You took after your mother in the sense that you had a strong need to make sure everybody was okay. Everybody had all their toes and fingers accounted for, no bruises, no yelling, or fighting. If everybody else was okay, then all was right in the world with you. 

But sometimes…you got a little impish. Like you wanted to cause trouble just to see what would happen. You wanted to disrupt the delicate balance of the house and festivities and do something wicked. 

An idea immediately came to mind and you didn’t think twice about it. You said goodbye to your cousins, stepping back into the house to check on your dad. Lately, he had been feeling more winded than usual. More tired. You urged him to go to the doctor, but the relationship between men and hospitals needed to be studied. He avoided it like it was a nail in a coffin. 

Terry sat next to your dad, yelling at the TV with him. He brought his beer to his lush lips and took a deep pull. Your core instantly heated looking at your man. There was precious little he did that didn’t absolutely turn you on. 

He caught you staring and winked at you. You grinned and took out your phone, snapping a quick picture of him. He tilted his head, giving you a look. You stuck your tongue out at him and then checked the score. You found a free recliner opposite your dad and sat down, finally taking the load off.

While everyone was distracted, you quickly sent Terry a text. He checked his smart watch and then glanced at you, furrowing his eyebrows in an unspoken question. You smiled sweetly at him while he dug out his phone and checked your message.

💬 You sent a photo.

“Can Big Daddy come play?”

Terry immediately placed his phone down on his thigh, turning wide eyes towards you. You rocked in the recliner, grinning at him. You had sent a thirst trap to him, one you snapped in the bathroom earlier in the day. You had meant to show him at a later time, maybe while he was at work and needed a pick me up. 

He scooted forward on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his beard and tried to suppress a grin, subtly shaking his head at you. 

You continued to rock, feeling pleased as punch. You tried to see if he was getting hard but he was bent too much forward. The men groaned at the latest ref’s call and you turned to the TV to see the teams setting up for another play. 

You glanced back at Terry who kept his eyes trained on you. When you caught his eye, he narrowed them slightly and then jerked his head towards the stairs. You grinned and got up first, heading up to the second floor that remained off limits to everybody. Less rooms to clean up afterwards. 

The great thing about having a big family was that it was easy to disappear with no one the wiser. You headed upstairs to your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind you. The room was just as you left it in your early twenties when you finally moved out. There was still stuffed animals and an overflowing bookshelf in the corner, a wide dresser stretched underneath your TV, and “grown-up” art on the walls. You sometimes missed the B2K and B5 posters had tacked to your wall for years. 

Anticipation churned in your stomach as you waited for Terry’s quiet footfalls to follow behind you on the shaggy, brown carpet. A moment later, there was a soft knock and then Terry entered, looking behind the door for you. You ushered him in and then closed and locked the door, wrapping your hands around his neck.

He had to bend down slightly so that it wasn’t incredibly awkward for you and he groaned. “You trynna get me killed?” He demanded, stepping back to look you in the face.

You giggled and clasped your hands behind your back. “Whatever do you mean?” You asked. 

Terry smirked and advanced on you, causing you to bite your lip and retreat. He crossed the distance in one second, his long legs carrying him forward. He cupped your neck in both of his warm, strong hands and you moaned, eyes sinking lower now that you were back in his capable hands. 

“You think you slick sendin’ that picture while I was right next to your dad?” He asked.

You giggled again. Ugh, you couldn’t help it. He made you feel so feminine and girly whenever he went all big and strong on you. You were working on being more bold, opening your mouth and asking for what you wanted. But sometimes, you got so twisted up with nerves your mouth didn’t work. 

“Did you like it?” You asked. 

Terry squeezed your neck and you sighed at the pressure. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. “You know I liked it,” he said, glancing down at the front of his pants. You followed his gaze and noticed his dick pressed against the fabric of his jeans. You reached out to rub his bulge. 

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked.

“I can’t just want my man?” You asked. You continued to rub him, watching as his own eyes drooped. His naturally dark eyelashes nearly fanned his high cheekbones. 

“You know, there is one fantasy I always wanted to act out,” you said, forcing yourself to say the words. Even after years of marriage, Terry made you feel like a school girl with a crush. Guess you could never really shake that bit of shyness from growing up in a loud household and seeking only peace. 

“Is that right,” he murmured. 

“Mhmm. I never really got to have boys in my room growing up,” you said. You blinked up at him with a smile hovering over your lips. Terry lightly squeezed your neck, stepping closer, as you continued to rub him through his jeans. His breathing increased, soft pitfalls loud in your ear because he was so close to you. 

“Am I the first boy in your room?” He asked. 

“Maybe. But don’t get a big head about it,” you said. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. His thumbs rubbed across your pulse points on both sides of your neck, turning you stupid in less than a second. You lost your train of thought as the rough slide of his fingers sent electric zings down to the tips of your toes. Your panties grew damp as you sighed. 

You kept waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over, but after a while, you just accepted that you two were just that intense for each other. Growing up, you saw your grandparents, parents, and extended family all find the love of their lives, each carving out a special relationship with their significant others. 

But it was Auntie Aileen’s marriage that you admired. Sometimes she and her husband seemed to communicate with just a look. Like they were the only two people in the world and everything else was background noise. You wanted and craved that. And by some miracle, you found that with Mr. Terry Richmond. 

“And, there’s a few things that I always wanted to do with a boy in my room if I ever got the chance,” you said. Your hands slipped to his jeans, unbuttoning them and then sliding the zipper down. 

“Mm, I think I like where this is going. You know, I had a similar fantasy,” he said. He smirked as you lowered his jeans enough to get to his boxer briefs. His dick was hot to the touch through the fabric, balls heavy, and you slipped your hand beneath the waistband to get to your prize. 

“Is that so?” You asked, palming his dick. He hissed and then released the sigh in a shudder. You grinned, feeling like the most powerful person ever. Just you gripping him caused a reaction. It was heady and intoxicating and you would never get sick of it. 

“Mhm. See, I always wanted to fuck my wife in her childhood home. Like it was a badge of honor or somethin’,” he said, his voice getting deeper and rougher. 

You shivered. Your panties were practically soaked now. Your pussy throbbed at the thought of you both having similar fantasies. You stepped back from his hands around your neck and then dropped down your knees. 

Terry’s eyebrows lifted as you grinned at him. You pressed your nose into his crotch and nuzzled. Terry sighed, petting your head as you tugged his briefs down to expose the long, thick length of him. 

The tip of his dick swelled, pre-cum already beading. You swiped your tongue out and licked it causing Terry to jerk his hips forward. “As much as I love this, we better hurry before one of the Aunties come looking for you,” he said.

You pouted. He was right. A bunch of girls to choose from to handle anything around the house and somehow it always fell to you. 

You sighed and kissed his dick, making it jump. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’ll make it up to you later,” you said.

Terry laughed and pleasure zinged through you. You loved pleasing your man. Whether it was making him laugh, checking in on him, or pleasing him during sex, you loved it when you could just make him feel good. 

Terry helped guide his dick into your mouth and you looked up at him while you worked in tandem. He pushed in and you sunk onto his dick, wrapping your lips around him. His hairs tickled your face but you kept your mind focused on making him cum as quickly as possible. 

Little did he know, you were in a competition with yourself to make him bust faster and faster. Maybe it was simply the competitive spirit in you. But you swore you’ve come from just a look from him. Turnabout was only fair play. 

Light from your window illuminated Terry through the slats of the blinds. He tipped his head back, mouth falling open as you worked him over with your tongue and hands. You gripped his base, squeezing how he liked while you took the rest in your mouth.

“Fuuck, this mouth of yours,” he moaned. Your pussy throbbed harder, growing wet from the sounds of his moans, the look of pleasure on his face. His eyes were closed, hands around the back of your head to push your mouth further down. 

You took him in and bobbed your head, really getting into pleasing him. You shifted on your knees and squeezed his dick harder. You moaned around his length, getting lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth. His dick poked your cheek and you teased the tip with your tongue.

“Just like that,” he coached so you did it again. You teased the tip while you sucked him off, loud gawking echoing in your ears. 

Saliva slipped from your mouth and drooped down your chin, letting him slip easier in and out. You increased your ministrations, bobbing in a frenzy, watching for any signs of his discomfort. 

You saw none of that. Instead, his face was twisted in a sexy mix of pleasure and pain. Soft moans escaped his mouth as you kept going, kept trying to take him deeper, kept trying to swallow him whole. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect with my dick in your mouth,” he cooed. 

You moaned, growing unbearably wet at his words. Your jaw started to ache but you ignored it in favor of wanting to get him off. Wanting him to bust in your mouth. You widened your jaw and he sunk in a little deeper.

He groaned and looked down at you. “I’m finna bust,” he whispered.

You grinned around his dick and kept up what you were doing until he gripped your head and spilled down your throat. His moans were their own aphrodisiac, filling you with pride that you got your man off so quickly. You swallowed his cum, something you were still getting used to, and then continued to suck. 

Terry huffed, hips jerking forward, as he couldn’t decide between laughing and moaning. He had to gently push at your head to make you stop and he eased his dick out. “You must think you’re cute,” he said.

You pinched your thumb and forefinger together. “A little,” you said. 

Terry chuckled, grabbing your hands and helping you stand. He kissed you, gripping your face to his to make you stay. You sighed with a moan, wrapping your arms around him. You made out for a good, long while, soaking up each other’s desperate kisses. 

“My turn,” he whispered against your lips. 

You only had a brief moment to catch the devious, nearly evil look in his eye as he lifted your plain gray T-shirt over your head. He didn’t take it off, instead he just wanted the collar over your head to expose your black, lacy bra. 

He groaned, getting a live view of the sexy picture you sent him earlier. He thumbed your nipples through the bra, making them bead up. He backed you towards your closet door, then dropped his head to suck on your nipples around your bra.

You moaned, gripping the back of his neck. “Oh fuck,” you moaned.

“Shhh. We ain’t trynna get caught ‘cause of your nasty ass,” he said.

“My nasty ass?” You asked with a giggle. 

“Your nasty, sexy, delicious ass, yes,” Terry said in between licking and kissing your titties. He used his index finger in between the cups to lower it, exposing your nipples to his gaze. He tucked the cups of your bra beneath your titties and went back to sucking on them. 

Each suckle sent a wave of heat through your body and if you weren’t careful, you’d turn into a raging inferno right there in your childhood bedroom. Your moans only increased, getting louder the more he worked that glorious, hot tongue on you. 

You wished you had enough time to get your pussy licked on. But you were already pushing the envelope at the moment with so many people just downstairs. Risk of discovery only turned you on more, your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Terry slipped his hand down your leggings and past your underwear, finding you soaked. He paused with your nipple in his mouth. “You got this wet from sucking me off?” He asked with his mouth full. 

You nodded. “Sure did,” you said.

Terry closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “Good to know,” he murmured. 

You didn’t have time to ask him about that because he went back to sucking on your titties while he plunged two fingers into your pussy. You cried out, and he gave you a warning look, before working those long, thick fingers in and out of you.

“I-I didn’t suck you off to get something back,” you whispered. As much as you would like to turn this into a full on session, you were also cognizant of the time. Surely, someone would come looking soon, right? You weren’t exactly subtle heading upstairs. 

“Think I’ma leave my favorite girl like this?” He asked. He emphasized his point by plunging his fingers faster, the squelching of your pussy smacked in the room. 

“Oh, baby. Oh, Terry, please, I’m gonna…unnf,” you moaned as quietly as you were able. 

“That’s okay, baby, you cum on these fingers. You cum all over this fingers f’me,” he murmured, still treating your titties like his favorite meal. He kissed, suckled, and nibbled until you turned into a puddle in his arms.

You were only held up by your hands around his neck and his arms around you. You shook violently, trapping his fingers between your thighs as you rode out your orgasm. Terry still managed to wiggle his fingers inside, rubbing against a sweet, sweet spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids. 

Your nails dug into his soft sweater and you shivered on your way down from it. Terry kissed and rubbed his beard against your nipples. Was the man trying to kill you? 

He leaned back and smiled at you. “I love the look you give me after you cum,” he said.

You giggled. “What look is that, sir?” You asked.

“Like a well-satiated woman. That’s always my goal,” he said.

You smiled and tilted your hand. “You better be careful talking to me like that. I might think you wanna marry me,” you said.

Terry chuckled. “Oh, I wanna do more than marry you,” he said. He grinned and then gripped the waistband of your leggings and panties. He slid the pants down your legs, his hand traveling behind to rub against your thighs. 

You stared at each other, smiles hovering on your faces, as he got them down to your calves. You stepped out of them and Terry wasted no time picking you up. You yelped as he spread you wide open, hooking your thighs around his waist.

Holding his hand under your ass, he used his other one to guide his dick into your slick heat. Your eyes widened at the glorious, burning stretch as you sank down onto him. Your toes curled as he sank in deeper and deeper, your essence making the trip easy. 

Terry maneuvered his arms under your knees, so that he could easily lift you up and down on his dick. You gripped onto him for dear life, turning wide, panicked eyes to him. You didn’t think he’d drop you, no, your husband was too strong and capable for that. You just felt like you were about to rip apart at the seams and he was the only thing keeping you together. 

“You did say you wanted Big Daddy to come and play, right?” He whispered, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, smooth, and so damn hot you clenched around his dick. He groaned and lifted you off his dick just to sink back in. 

“Don’t be using my words against me,” you said.

“Oh word?” He asked with a grin. All the niceties flew out of the window. He started slamming you up and down on his dick, that stretching burn making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, bringing your face closer to his. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck and held on while he fucked you, stuffed you, and filled you so completely you felt him all over. He was in your heart, your mind, and your soul, writing his name in the threads of your being. 

“There’s my good girl. I’m so fuckin’ proud of you,” he said.

You whined against his face, peppering him with sloppy kisses. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I like when you get bold. Let me know you want this dick,” he said. He rubbed his beard against your cheek and you moaned.

“I want it. Please, I want it,” you whispered. 

Knocking drew your attention to your door. You turned wide eyes to Terry who stopped moving. He glanced towards the door. 

“Baby, you in there?” Your mom called out. Your heart beat in double time, fear turning your insides icy.

“What should I do?” You whispered. Okay, you lied, getting caught would suck ass right now. There was no way to explain this to your mom. You just didn’t talk about these things with her. As far as she was concerned, you were married but still a virgin.

“If you don’t answer, she gonna send a search party,” he whispered back.

“Yeah, mom?” You called out. 

“What are you doing in there? Food’s getting ready to be done so I need your help organizing the line,” she said.

“Yes, mommy, I-I wasn’t feeling well so I came to lay down,” you called out. 

“Do you need some medicine? You want me to grab Terry?” She asked. 

Terry grinned and started moving you up and down on his dick again. Your jaw dropped, tummy fluctuating between arousal and fear. The normal butterflies in your stomach were having a field day. 

You slapped at his shoulder to get him to stop. Or quit fucking around. He couldn’t think this was a great idea, making you take his dick like this while talking to your mom. He grinned innocently, moving his lips down back to your nipples to suck.

You closed your eyes, not knowing where to focus your attention. “Uh-no! I’m okay! I’ll be out soon, promise!” Oh, fuck, he hit a good spot inside you and you clutched him to you.

“Alright, better come on. Your Uncle Remy ‘bout to work my damn nerves,” your mother sniffed as she presumably went on down the hallway. 

You gasped and tapped Terry’s shoulder again. Terry answered you with a chuckle and then ended on a moan. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned like it was a glorious revelation. His deep voice skated along your nerve endings, making your tummy flip with desire. 

“Terry, please!” You moaned.

“Big Daddy ain’t finished yet,” he said and nuzzled your neck. He placed kisses there while he pumped his arms, moving you up and down on his dick. Your toes curled once more, fast approaching that train to nirvana. 

“Oh, please, Big Daddy, I can’t take it,” you cried. 

“Sure you can. Cum on this dick so I can fill you up. Let me feel it,” he said into your neck. His groans joined yours, hips jerking into you like he was close as well. “Soak this dick, baby.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder and let the orgasm roll over you like a subway train. You twitched and jerked on him, keening whines and cries filling your room as you lost sound in your right eye. 

Or maybe this was that nirvana you were dreaming of. Maybe you slipped into another plane of existence where your souls danced and entwined for eternity. Either way, Terry’s groans brought you back to this side of existence while he stuffed you full of his cum.

The hot, thick spurts throbbed with his dick, sliding against your inner walls. You cried, feeling overwhelmed and thoroughly fucked out. You both panted and huffed as you came down, gathering your senses post-nut. 

You smiled dopily at your man and he flashed you a beautiful, wide grin. “There’s that look I love so much,” he said.

“You are dangerous,” you said.

He chuckled. “Saying I’m dangerous while your pussy feel this good squeezing my dick. Just say you don’t wanna let go,” he said.

You squeezed his dick and he laughed, lowering you carefully to the floor. Once he slipped out, his cum came rushing out of you and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation. Terry suddenly pushed his cum right back in.

“Terry!” You screamed. 

He chuckled. “I can’t help it. I like watching my cum slide out of you,” he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled at him while you crossed the room to your dresser. Sometimes, you came to spend the night with your parents to help keep an eye on your dad while your mom got a break.

You grabbed an extra pair of panties and a towel from off of your bed. You cleaned yourself up as best as you were able and then slipped your leggings back on. Thank goodness that a bathroom was directly across from your room. You wouldn’t have to trek far to get fully cleaned up. 

Terry stuffed that dangerous monster back into his jeans. You stood, transfixed, watching him slide the denim over his dick and zip up his pants with a little hop. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, Big Daddy,” you said, admiring your man.

“Happy Thanksgiving, baby,” he said, pulling you into a hug and one final kiss before leaving your room in a cloud of marital bliss.

The end.

I love you all and I'm so thankful for you. The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist:

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[roosterforme]

Geriatric Millennial | Rooster x Reader

Bradley loves all things '90s. You don't completely understand it, but you appreciate his spirit.

1000 words

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

There were certain scenarios that became normal over time when you were in a relationship with a man more then ten years your elder. Sometimes you didn't understand certain movie references. Slang words and jokes occasionally went over your head. He and his friends would often reminisce about trends you'd never witnessed. But Bradley never made you feel bad about it, and you never called him an old-timer unless you were joking.

You were used to these things, but nothing quite prepared you for what you saw when you got home from work. Bradley was relaxing on the couch in something that looked like a bright blue, full body straitjacket with some random vintage headphones on his head.

"What the fuck?" you muttered, inching closer when you realized he was listening to music and hasn't spotted you yet. You glanced around the room, trying to locate the source of disturbing chattering sound that just started, and you tripped over a hard, black ball.

Bradley looked up at you with a smile. "Hey, you're home early." He quickly stood in his weird, fleece outfit and leaned in to give you a kiss, but you leaned away.

"What on earth is happening here?" you asked, standing frozen as he pulled his headphones off.

"What are you talking about?" He looked puzzled by your words but not by all of the weird things in the living room. 

"I'm talking about what you're wearing. And the robotic voice!"

"Oh," he laughed. "This is just my Snuggie."

"Your what?"

He glanced down at himself. "My Snuggie? I found it in a box of my stuff from highschool."

You were still so confused. "What's a Snuggie? And what is that weird sound?"

When his gaze fell to something fuzzy and brown on the couch, you jerked back in shock. "You mean my Furby?"

You glared at the critter and it's enormous, evil eyes. "Is that one of those things from that '80s Gremlins movie you're obsessed with?"

He barked out a laugh like you'd just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard in his life. "Baby, no. It's not a Gremlin. It's just a Furby. But imagine if Furby manufactured replica Gremlins... Would have been fascinating." It was starting to sound like he was speaking a foreign language. "I was just listening to Chumbawamba on my Discman and playing with my pogs and my Tomagachi. I literally forgot the Furby was even here."

You were sure you were gaping at him like he had two heads as you reached up to run your palm across his forehead. "Do you have a fever?"

"Huh? No, but I did eat a Kudos bar I found in the box, so I might potentially have an upset stomach later. But it was worth it."

After you pinched the bridge of your nose, you asked, "I'm sorry, but what did you say you were listening to?"

"Tubthumping. By Chumbawamba. You know it, don't you? Pissing the night away, pissing the night away. I get knocked down...." He looked at you in wide eyed shock. "You don't know that song? How is that possible?"

You didn't want to tell him that Chumba whatever wasn't a word. And neither was Snuggie. Not when he looked so adorably baffled. You stroked your fingers across his forehead and down his cheek as you shook your head.

"No, I don't know that song, because I'm not forty like you are. And you look kind of alarming in this thing." You pinched the fleece fabric and pulled it away from his body.

"It's my Snuggie," he muttered. "It was from an Infomercial."

"I don't know what that means." He gasped and you started laughing. "But I would love to sit down with you while you explain it to me. As long as you don't make me eat something from the late 1900s."

He took your hand in his bigger one and and led you toward the couch and the demonic looking Furby. "Okay, but first, you need to listen to this CD. Because Jake told me Chumbawamba is a guilty pleasure, but it's actually really good."

About twenty minutes later, you were wrapped up in the Snuggie, enveloped in softness and Bradley's lingering body warmth. "I love this thing," you told him, burying your face in the fleece. "And yes, Chumbawamba is good, but I like Hoobastank better. And I'm really sorry I accidentally kicked your Magic 8 ball across the floor."

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your cheek as you skipped a track on his Discman. "That's okay. Hey, do you want to learn how to play pogs? The best part is, I'm not sure there are actually any rules at all."

"Sure," you said with a shrug. "Why the hell not? As long as you lock that Furby away and never let it out ever again."

"Heard."

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

I’m imagining Bucky having a hard time vocalizing “I love you,” to anyone, no matter how much he wants to.

While learning some basic ASL in order to better communicate with Clint, Bucky learns to say “I love you,” (🤟) to the reader.

I Love You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky has a hard time vocalizing “I love you” so he asks Clint for him to help him say it to you by using ASL.

Warnings: Fluff, language, tiny mention of HYDRA, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Ever since Bucky met you, he knew that he’s in love with you. You and him have been on a few dates. He wants to take the next step in yours and in relationship by asking you to by his girlfriend and say “I love you” to you.

If Bucky is being honest, he’s been having a hard time trying to vocally say “I love you” to you. Ever since HYDRA and his days as the Winter Soldier, he didn’t think he’d find love. That was until he met you. He didn’t have trouble with finding love when he was younger. It’s like HYDRA stripped him of that.

Bucky wants to say “I love you” to you, but he needs some help with that. So he decided to ask Clint for help on it.

“Hey, Clint. Can I ask you something?” Bucky asks as he approaches Clint.

“Yea. What’s up, man?” Clint asks, putting his bow and arrow on the ground.

“You’ve been married for a while, right?” He asks.

“Yea. Why?” He asks.

“Well, you know that me and Y/N have been seeing each other, but we haven’t made it official yet.” He begins. “I was wondering if you could help me out with saying “I love you” without saying it.” He says.

“You’re in luck.” Clint put a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You came to the right person. Me and Natasha used sign language to communicate sometimes when we were on missions and had to be quiet.” He said.

“I don’t know any sign language.” Bucky says.

“It’s easy, especially if you’re doing the sign for “I love you”.” He said. “Hold your hand up.” He says.

Bucky held up his right hand and then looked at Clint, waiting for more instructions.

“Now put down your middle and ring fingers.” Clint tells him.

Bucky did just that, leaving his index finger, pinky, and thumb up.

“That’s sign language for “I love you”.” He tells him.

“Woah, that’s easy.” Bucky says, looking at his hand.

“I told you it would be, man.” Clint smiles. “Let me know how it goes.” He says, giving Bucky a pat on his back.

Bucky looks at his hand again and smiles before looking for you. He found you in the lounge room.

“I was wondering where you were, Bucky.” You kissed his cheek. “I was thinking about our date tonight.” You say, smiling up at him and playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Me too.” Bucky smiles back. “But I have something to tell you.” He says nervously.

“What is it?” You asked curiously.

Bucky took a deep breath. He hasn’t felt this nervous about anything in years. He looked down at his right hand before lifting it up and holding up his index finger, pinky, and thumb. You looked at his hand and smiled widely.

“Are you trying to tell me that you love me?” You asked.

“Y-Yes.” Bucky answers with a stutter.

You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his lips sweetly. You felt Bucky smiles before against your lips.

“I love you too, Buck.” You say softly, looking in his blue eyes.

“Does this mean you’ll be my best girl?” He asks.

“Of course I will!” You answered.

The smiles never left your faces. Bucky’s hands gently caressed your cheeks and he kissed you passionately.

“How about we change our date to now?” Bucky suggests. “I can’t wait any longer to take you out.” He says.

“That sounds great to me.” You smile up at him.

You then held your hand up, signing “I love you” to him. Bucky smiles and signed “I love you” back.

Hopefully Bucky will be able to say “I love you” to you. He hopes that’s sometime soon.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[jmkjournalblog]

Sweet thing (Part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4000+

Warnings: Smut, Power dynamics, Mommy kink, manipulation, mild Dom/sub elements, a lot of talking. 

A/n: I couldn't forget this plot that came to me after watching AAA so, here we go. Btw English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

It started with Wanda’s persistent nudging. The woman seemed determined to weave Y/N into the very fabric of Westview, her matchmaking efforts growing more elaborate by the day. When Wanda suggested that Y/N stay with Agatha for a while to "bond" and "learn a few things about life in Westview" Y/N had blushed profusely, her eyes darting to the floor as though the very idea embarrassed her.

Agatha had played along, smiling tightly and shrugging. “Well, if you insist, Wanda,” she said, her tone light, though she was inwardly wary.

Now, as Y/N stood on her doorstep with a small bag, Agatha found herself studying the girl more closely than ever.

“You’re sure about this?” Agatha asked, one brow raised.

Y/N nodded quickly, her cheeks pink. “I don’t want to be a bother,” she said softly. “Wanda just thought…” She trailed off, wringing her hands.

“Oh, don’t worry about Wanda,” Agatha said with a wry smile. “She’s always got some scheme or another. Come on in, sweetie.”

Y/N stepped inside, her movements hesitant as she looked around the cozy living room. Agatha watched her, noting the way her fingers brushed the edge of a chair, her gaze lingering on the trinkets scattered about.

“Make yourself at home,” Agatha said, gesturing toward the couch. “I don’t bite. Usually.”

Y/N laughed softly, though her blush deepened. “Thank you,” she said, sitting on the edge of the couch and folding her hands in her lap.

Agatha leaned against the arm of a chair, crossing her arms as she studied the girl. “So, what’s Wanda got planned for us? Baking cookies? Knitting scarves? Or is this just her way of keeping us both busy?”

Y/N smiled shyly, her gaze dropping. “I think she just wants us to… get along,” she said.

Agatha chuckled. “Oh, we’ll get along just fine, sweetie. As long as you don’t burn the house down.”

The girl was irresistible in her own way—timid, bashful, eager to please. She fluttered around Agatha’s house like a nervous sparrow, her wide eyes full of gratitude and uncertainty. It was disarming, this sweetness that seemed to radiate from her with every clumsy gesture and quiet laugh.

At first, Agatha had kept her distance, watching Y/N from behind her sharp smirks and probing comments. But as the day wore on, the girl’s earnestness began to wear her down.

By evening, Agatha found herself leaning back on the couch, a glass of wine in hand as she watched Y/N kneeling on the floor in front of her, sorting through an old box of books.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Agatha said, her tone warm with amusement.

Y/N looked up, her green eyes wide and innocent. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly, her hands pausing over a dusty tome. “I want to help. You’ve been so nice, letting me stay here and all.”

Agatha chuckled, swirling her wine. “Sweetheart, you’re practically falling over yourself to please me. You don’t need to try so hard.”

Y/N hesitated, her hands faltering as a blush crept up her cheeks. “I just… I want you to like me,” she murmured, her voice soft.

Agatha’s smirk softened, her gaze lingering on the girl. She set her wine down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Oh, honey. I already like you,” she said, her voice rich and velvety. “Maybe a little too much.”

Y/N’s blush deepened, her eyes darting away as she fidgeted with the book in her lap. “You’re teasing me again,” she mumbled.

“Of course I am,” Agatha replied with a grin. “It’s adorable how flustered you get.”

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, the sound shaky but endearing. She set the book aside and shifted onto her knees, her movements hesitant. “You… you really think I’m adorable?”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, sensing the shy vulnerability in the question. She leaned back, her smirk widening. “Oh, absolutely. You’re like a little kitten, all wide eyes and nervous energy. Makes me want to… pet you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands twisting in her lap as she looked up at Agatha, her cheeks burning. “I… I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha leaned forward, her hands resting on her knees as she studied the girl. There was something intoxicating about Y/N’s deference, the way she seemed to hang on Agatha’s every word, every glance. It sparked a possessive warmth deep in her chest, a need to see how far she could push this timid little thing.

“You don’t have to say anything, sweetie,” Agatha murmured, her voice low and smooth. She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against Y/N’s cheek.

The girl’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch, her breath catching as Agatha’s thumb traced the curve of her jaw. She leaned into the caress, her lips parting slightly as if to say something, but no words came.

Agatha’s smirk softened into something more indulgent, her gaze lingering on Y/N’s flushed face. “You’re too cute for your own good,” she said, her voice a husky murmur.

Y/N opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Agatha’s with a mixture of nervousness and longing. “Agnes…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Agatha’s name on her lips sent a shiver down her spine. She leaned closer, her hand slipping behind Y/N’s neck as she drew the girl toward her. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, the warmth of Y/N’s mouth sending a surge of heat through Agatha’s veins.

Y/N gasped against her, her hands flying to Agatha’s arms as she clung to her, her body trembling. Agatha deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in Y/N’s hair as she pulled her closer.

When they broke apart, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven as she stared up at Agatha with wide, wondering eyes. “I… I’ve never…” she began, but the words caught in her throat.

Agatha’s lips curved into a slow smile, her eyes dark with intrigue as she leaned closer, the warmth of the moment building between them. Her voice softened, dropping to a soothing murmur. "Oh, honey. Is that what’s got you so worked up?"

Y/N nodded, her gaze flitting nervously between Agatha’s eyes and her hands. "I just… I didn’t want you to think I was stupid or… or something." Her voice wavered, tinged with both embarrassment and vulnerability.

"Stupid?" Agatha let out a low, genuine laugh, her chest warming at the sheer adorableness of the girl’s nervousness. She reached out, her fingers brushing gently against Y/N’s cheek before tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Y/N flinched slightly at the touch, her lips parting in a soft gasp, and the vulnerability in that small reaction made Agatha’s heart skip.

"Sweetheart," she said, her voice a velvet murmur, "there’s nothing stupid about not knowing. It’s… charming, really." Her smile turned sly, a wicked gleam flickering in her eyes. "Besides," she added, her fingers tracing a slow line down Y/N’s jaw, "I happen to be an excellent teacher."

Y/N’s breath hitched, her wide eyes locking onto Agatha’s. There was a flicker of uncertainty there, but it was layered beneath something else—something that made Agatha’s pulse quicken. Y/N swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she asked, "You’d… teach me?"

Agatha’s smile deepened, satisfaction thrumming in her chest as she leaned closer, their faces mere inches apart. Her thumb brushed lightly over Y/N’s flushed cheek, the skin warm beneath her touch. "Oh, darling," she purred, her tone dripping with promise, "I’d love to teach you. But only if you want me to."

Y/N hesitated, her lips parting as though she were about to speak, but no words came. Instead, she nodded faintly, her eyes fluttering closed as her breathing grew shallow.

The moment stretched, thick with tension, until Y/N whispered, "I… I think I’d like that." Her words were so quiet that Agatha almost didn’t hear them, but the tremor in her voice sent a thrill racing through her.

"Good girl," Agatha murmured, her thumb brushing gently over Y/N’s bottom lip. Her hand tilted Y/N’s chin up, and she leaned in, her lips grazing Y/N’s in a kiss that was soft, tentative—testing the waters.

Y/N whimpered softly, the sound sending a jolt of heat through Agatha as she pressed more firmly against her. She guided Y/N’s chin with her fingers, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, and Y/N’s lips parted under the pressure, trembling but eager. Agatha slid her tongue past the girl’s lips, tasting her, savoring the soft, unsure noises that escaped her throat.

Y/N gasped into the kiss, her hands fluttering uncertainly before resting on Agatha’s shoulders. Her fingers clutched the fabric of Agatha’s cardigan, her body trembling as she leaned into the older woman’s touch.

"Relax, sweetheart," Agatha whispered against Y/N’s lips, her voice low and soothing. "Just let me take care of you."

Y/N nodded shakily, her wide eyes brimming with nervous anticipation. Agatha leaned back slightly, her gaze raking over Y/N’s flushed face, the way her lips were slightly parted, her chest rising and falling with each uneven breath.

Agatha’s hand drifted down, her fingertips tracing the curve of Y/N’s neck, the delicate line of her collarbone, before coming to rest on her trembling hands. "Give me your hand," she murmured.

Y/N obeyed immediately, her fingers light and hesitant in Agatha’s grasp. Agatha lifted the girl’s hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles before trailing her mouth down to the tips of her fingers.

"Have you ever thought about how sensitive your hands are, darling?" Agatha asked, her voice teasing.

"N-No," Y/N stammered, her gaze fixed on Agatha as the older woman took her index finger into her mouth.

Agatha sucked lightly, her tongue swirling around the digit, and Y/N shuddered, a soft gasp slipping from her lips. "You’d be surprised what a little attention here can do," Agatha murmured, releasing the finger with a soft pop and grinning at Y/N’s reaction.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her cheeks a brilliant shade of red as she stammered, "I-I didn’t know…"

Agatha chuckled, her hands slipping to Y/N’s waist as she drew her closer. "Oh, honey, there’s so much you don’t know," she said, her voice low and affectionate. "But don’t worry—I’ll teach you everything."

Her fingers slid beneath the fabric of Y/N’s sweater, palms meeting warm, smooth skin. Y/N inhaled sharply, her body tensing for a moment before melting under Agatha’s touch.

"That’s it," Agatha murmured, her hands traveling upward, exploring the gentle curve of Y/N’s waist, the swell of her ribs.

Y/N whimpered, her head falling forward to rest against Agatha’s shoulder. "It feels… different," she admitted, her voice trembling.

"Good different?" Agatha teased, her fingers brushing just beneath the hem of Y/N’s bra.

Y/N nodded, her breath warm against Agatha’s neck. "Y-Yeah. Good."

"Good girl," Agatha whispered, her hands sliding higher to cup Y/N’s breasts over her bra. The fabric was soft, yielding under her touch, and Y/N arched instinctively into her hands.

Y/N gasped, her hands clutching at Agatha’s sleeves as she trembled in her grasp. "Agnes, I… I don’t…"

"Shh," Agatha soothed, her grin widened as her hands skimmed along Y/N’s waist, her thumbs brushing slow, teasing circles over the soft fabric of her sweater. The girl trembled beneath her touch, her breath quickening, her chest rising and falling in shallow waves.

“You’re so tense,” Agatha murmured, her voice low and coaxing. “Relax for me, sweetheart.”

Y/N nodded, her lips parting slightly as Agatha’s hands slipped beneath her sweater, fingertips meeting warm, bare skin. The soft gasp that escaped Y/N sent a thrill through Agatha, her smirk deepening as she pressed her palms against Y/N’s ribs, sliding upward with deliberate slowness.

“That’s better,” Agatha whispered, her lips brushing against the curve of Y/N’s jaw. “Just let go. You’re safe with me.”

Y/N shivered, her head tilting instinctively to the side, exposing more of her neck. Agatha didn’t hesitate, her lips trailing along the delicate skin, leaving light kisses that grew firmer with every lingering touch. Her hands explored further, fingers curling under the hem of Y/N’s bra, testing the boundary before slipping beneath it.

Y/N whimpered, her body arching slightly into Agatha’s touch as her thumbs brushed over the sensitive skin. “Agnes…” she gasped, her voice catching on the name.

The girl’s breath came in shallow, trembling bursts, her hands clutching at the fabric of Agatha’s cardigan as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Agatha savored every reaction—the way Y/N’s body moved, the soft, stuttered sounds that spilled from her lips like a melody meant just for her.

“You’re so sensitive,” Agatha murmured, her lips brushing against Y/N’s temple. “So perfect. You feel how good this is, don’t you?”

Y/N could only nod, her cheeks burning as she whispered, “Y-Yes… It’s so much…”

“That’s the idea, darling,” Agatha said with a low chuckle. “It’s supposed to feel like this.”

She kissed Y/N again, deeper this time, her tongue coaxing the girl’s lips apart. Y/N moaned softly into the kiss, her body melting against Agatha’s as her hands moved to clutch at the older woman’s shoulders.

Agatha’s touch grew bolder, her hands skimming down Y/N’s sides, exploring every curve before settling on her hips. Her fingers teased at the waistband of Y/N’s skirt, brushing lightly against the bare skin just beneath it.

“Can I touch you here?” Agatha whispered against Y/N’s lips, her tone dark with intent.

Y/N hesitated, her breath catching, before nodding shyly. “Yes… Please.”

The eagerness in her voice sent a jolt of heat through Agatha, and she wasted no time, her hand slipping beneath the fabric to cup Y/N over her panties. The warmth, the slickness she felt there, made her smirk as she murmured, “Oh, darling, you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

Y/N whimpered, her face burying in Agatha’s neck as her hips shifted instinctively toward her touch. “I… I don’t know what to do…” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to do anything, honey,” Agatha reassured her, her fingers stroking gently, coaxing soft moans from the girl’s lips. “Just feel. Let me guide you.”

Y/N’s breathing quickened, her body trembling as Agatha slipped her hand beneath the thin barrier of fabric, her fingers meeting slick, heated skin. The first touch drew a sharp gasp from Y/N, her hips jerking involuntarily.

“So wet for me,” Agatha murmured, her voice laced with satisfaction. “You really are my good girl, aren’t you?”

The words made Y/N whimper, her hands gripping tightly at Agatha’s arms. Her head fell back against the couch, exposing her flushed face, her parted lips, as Agatha’s fingers moved in slow, deliberate strokes.

“You’re doing so well,” Agatha crooned, her thumb finding Y/N’s clit and circling it lightly. “You’re beautiful like this, you know that? Absolutely stunning.”

Y/N moaned, her body arching as she struggled to process the overwhelming sensations. “It’s… It’s too much,” she breathed, her hands clutching at Agatha’s sleeves.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” Agatha murmured, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear. “Just let it happen.”

Y/N’s hips bucked against her hand, the heat building between them until every movement, every sound, seemed to reverberate in Agatha’s chest. Then it happened—Y/N’s voice broke on a trembling word, soft and desperate.

“Mommy…”

The room stilled for a beat. Y/N’s eyes widened in horror as the realization of what she’d said sank in. “I—I didn’t mean to—” she stammered, her face burning with mortification.

Agatha paused, then a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. “Mommy?” she repeated, her voice dripping with amusement.

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Please, forget I said that!”

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Agatha said, chuckling as she gently pried Y/N’s hands away. “You can’t just say something like that and expect me to let it go.”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Y/N squeaked, her face crimson. “It just… slipped out!”

Agatha’s smirk softened, her hand stroking Y/N’s cheek as she murmured, “Relax, honey. I’m not mad. In fact…” Her lips brushed against Y/N’s ear, her voice a low purr. “I think I like it.”

Y/N froze, her breath catching. “You… you do?” she whispered.

“Mm-hmm,” Agatha hummed, her hand slipping back to rest on Y/N’s hip. “It suits you, darling. And me, too, don’t you think?”

Y/N hesitated, her blush deepening, before nodding shyly. “Okay… Mommy.”

Agatha’s fingers continued their slow, deliberate rhythm, tracing lazy circles over the girl’s clit. Each stroke drew a soft gasp or trembling moan from Y/N’s lips, her body arching into Agatha’s touch as if chasing more. The heat between them was electric, crackling with every shift of Y/N’s hips, every stuttered breath that escaped her throat. Agatha reveled in the power she wielded, her hand slipping lower to explore the slick, inviting folds beneath her fingertips.

Y/N’s thighs trembled as Agatha’s fingers teased her entrance, her movements unhurried but purposeful, testing her reaction with every touch. The girl’s wetness coated Agatha’s fingers, the tangible proof of her arousal sending a thrill through the older woman. With a deliberate slowness, Agatha slid a finger inside, the heat and tightness wrapping around her making her exhale sharply. Y/N tensed for a moment, a sharp intake of breath escaping her, before her body relaxed again, adjusting to the new sensation.

“That’s it,” Agatha murmured, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear as she began to move her finger in slow, shallow strokes. Her thumb continued its lazy circles over Y/N’s clit, coaxing soft, breathless whimpers from her.

Y/N’s hands clung to Agatha’s arms, her nails pressing lightly into her skin as her body writhed beneath her touch. Her head fell back, her lips parted as quiet, desperate moans spilled freely from her.

Agatha took her time, savoring every moment, every reaction. She added a second finger, sliding them deeper, her pace measured but firm. The way Y/N’s walls clenched around her, the soft cries that escaped her lips—it was intoxicating, a symphony Agatha wanted to play forever.

The girl’s hips began to move in rhythm with Agatha’s hand, her body instinctively chasing the pleasure. Agatha leaned down, her lips finding Y/N’s neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin before soothing it with a kiss. Y/N whimpered, her hands fisting in Agatha’s cardigan as the sensations overwhelmed her. The steady, relentless motion of Agatha’s fingers against that sweet spot inside her combined with the teasing pressure on her clit to push her closer to the edge.

The tension in Y/N’s body built with every stroke, her moans growing louder, more desperate. Agatha’s grin widened as she felt the girl tremble beneath her, her thighs quaking as the pressure mounted.

“That’s it,” Agatha murmured, her voice low and soothing, though her fingers never faltered. She curled them slightly, pressing against that sensitive spot that made Y/N cry out, her back arching. Her thumb circling Y/N’s clit with just enough pressure to make her whimper. “Let go, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

The words were all it took. Y/N’s body tensed, her thighs clamping around Agatha’s hand as the wave of pleasure crashed over her. A strangled moan tore from her lips, her hips bucking as the orgasm took hold, overwhelming her with its intensity.

Agatha didn’t stop, her fingers moving gently to guide Y/N through it, her touch steady and reassuring. She kissed Y/N’s temple, her hand cradling her head as the girl’s body shuddered in her arms, her moans softening into breathless whimpers.

When Y/N finally stilled, her body going limp against the couch, Agatha withdrew her hand carefully, her touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. She looked at Y/N, her face flushed and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath, and couldn’t help the satisfied smile that tugged at her lips.

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, her thumb brushing over Y/N’s cheek. The words were soft, almost tender, as she leaned down to press a lingering kiss to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

Y/N barely managed a nod, her hands weakly clutching at Agatha’s cardigan as she whispered, “Thank you…”

Agatha’s hand lingered on Y/N’s cheek for a moment longer before she leaned back, brushing her hair away from her face. “Come on, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice warm but firm. “Let’s get you settled upstairs. You’ve had quite the night.”

Y/N nodded sleepily, her face still flushed, her body pliant as Agatha helped her to her feet. The younger woman swayed slightly, and Agatha steadied her with a firm grip on her arm, guiding her toward the staircase.

The walk upstairs was unhurried, the house bathed in the soft, golden glow of dimly lit sconces. Agatha’s hand remained on Y/N’s waist, steadying her, the closeness oddly comforting. The stairs creaked faintly beneath their steps, the sound blending with the faint hum of the nighttime stillness.

At the top of the stairs, Agatha turned toward her bedroom. She pushed open the door, revealing a cozy space with dark wood furnishings and a bed neatly made with a deep plum-colored quilt. The air smelled faintly of lavender and aged books, a mix uniquely hers.

“You’ll stay in here,” Agatha said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She crossed to a dresser, pulling open a drawer and rummaging for something suitable. “Can’t have you sleeping in your day clothes.”

She returned with a pair of soft, well-worn pajama pants and a loose button-up shirt. Agatha handed them to Y/N with a smirk, her eyes flicking down to the girl’s legs. “These might be a little short on you, honey. You’ve got a few inches on me, but they’ll do.”

Y/N took the clothes with a shy smile, the faint pink still lingering in her cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmured, holding the bundle close.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Agatha said, gesturing toward a door on the side of the room. “Get changed and come back. I’ll grab some extra blankets.”

Y/N nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking softly shut behind her. Agatha busied herself gathering an extra pillow and a quilt from the closet, her mind lingering on the events of the evening. The girl had melted so sweetly under her touch, her reactions raw and unfiltered. There was something deeply satisfying about coaxing such vulnerability out of her.

When Y/N returned, she was wearing the borrowed clothes, the pajama pants ending just above her ankles, the hem of the shirt brushing against her thighs. The fabric hung loosely on her frame, giving her an air of casual innocence that made Agatha’s smirk return.

“Not bad,” Agatha teased, tossing the quilt onto the bed.

Y/N ducked her head, a soft laugh escaping her. “It’s perfect,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha chuckled, patting the space beside her on the bed. “Come on, hop in.”

Y/N obeyed, slipping under the covers and settling on her side of the bed. Agatha slid in beside her, adjusting the quilt before resting her head against the pillows. The space between them felt charged, but not uncomfortably so.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Agatha murmured, her voice softened by the dark.

“Goodnight, Agnes,” Y/N replied, her voice small but content.

Agatha closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as the house settled into silence. Her body relaxed, lulled by the warmth of the girl beside her, her usual wariness dulled by the exhaustion of the day.

Y/N, however, lay awake. Her gaze flicked to Agatha, the older woman’s peaceful face illuminated faintly by the moonlight slipping through the curtains. Slowly, Y/N’s lips curved into a grin—a sharp, wicked expression that twisted her previously innocent features.

Agatha’s trust, her affection—it was all falling perfectly into place.

[delulustateofmind]

Long Distance

Who needs tinder when you have Minecraft?

Gojo x Reader based on this blurb : The full fic has arrived!

CW: Fluff! Language barrier (frequent use of Japanese), Reader and Gojo mid to late twenties. No Curse AU!

WC: 4.5k

There will be a part two :)

The cheerful theme music filled your small bedroom as you fumbled to finalize your online membership. Satoru’s voice drifted through the call, light and playful as he hummed an unfamiliar tune. Occasionally, you heard the rhythmic tapping of what you assumed was his controller.

“Okay,” you said finally, exhaling in relief. “I’m ready!”

“Good, good,” he replied, the grin in his voice unmistakable. After a brief pause, he added, “Your island name… ah, what is it?”

You froze. Of course, he’d ask. “Um… it’s kinda… embarrassing.”

“Tell me, tell me,” he urged, his enthusiasm relentless, his tone laced with teasing curiosity.

You sighed, your cheeks already warming as you muttered, “It’s… UwU Island…”

Even saying it aloud felt like a mistake, but you gave it your best shot, dragging out the soft syllables of ‘UwU.’

The line went silent for a moment, and then his laughter spilled through the call—soft, melodic, and unrestrained, like he couldn’t help himself.

“That’s so cute!” he said between chuckles, his voice bright with delight. “Ah, y/n wa hontou ni kawaii.”

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to those Japanese college courses. “What—what did you just say?”

“Hm?” he hummed innocently, the faint smirk in his voice making you want to crawl under your blanket. “Ah… you are… cute. Your island name is cute too.”

“Oh my god, stop,” you groaned, covering your face even though he couldn’t see you. “Okay, what’s your island name then, huh?”

“Mine?” His tone turned smug, like he’d been waiting for you to ask. “ファイル島. Uh… I don’t know the English name, but from Digimon!”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Of course it is. How predictable.”

“Eh? Predictable?” he repeated, his English faltering just enough to give him pause. “What is… ah… how to say…? Hmm. It’s ‘basic,’ yes?”

You hesitated, not wanting to discourage him. “Not basic—just… expected. It suits you.”

“Ah,” he said again, the sound lingering. Then, in a softer voice, “That’s good, then.”

As the game connected your consoles, you leaned back, watching the familiar animation of a plane flying over an island. His island came into view, and your jaw dropped. Rows of meticulously arranged flowers, paved pathways, and an enormous mansion sitting proudly atop a hill—all of it screamed someone who had poured countless hours into perfecting every little detail.

“Satoru,” you began slowly, leaning closer to the screen, “have you… been playing this game nonstop or something? How does your island look so perfect?”

A low chuckle met your question. “I am… ah, how to say… good at games?” he teased, his words halting but clear. “Minecraft, Animal Crossing… everything.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. “Right, of course. Modest too, huh?”

“Modest?” He paused, the unfamiliar word hanging in the air before you heard typing on his end. A soft laugh followed. “Ah… 謙虚な? I’m not… that.”

“No kidding,” you muttered under your breath, though the grin on your face betrayed you.

When the connection finalized, his avatar was waiting at the airport—a white-haired, blue-eyed character that seemed like a playful nod to his Discord name: Blue Eyes White Dragon. He waved enthusiastically before typing in the in-game chat:

WELCOME!

“Welcome!” he echoed aloud, his voice brimming with excitement. “Come, come! I show you… ah…” He trailed off, searching for the word. “Ah, what is it? 見せる… show you around?”

“Tour,” you supplied gently.

“Yes! Tour.”

The hesitation in his English didn’t seem to bother him, though his occasional lapses into Japanese made it clear he wasn’t entirely confident. Still, he seemed to enjoy the back-and-forth.

If you even attempted Japanese, though, he’d switch to English immediately, laughing softly as he teased, “Your Japanese… hmmm… too formal for friends! I help you later with that… okay?”

The teasing lilt in his voice sent a flurry of butterflies through your chest.

You followed his avatar as he led you around his island, pointing out every detail with pride. When his English faltered, he filled in the gaps with Japanese, his voice flowing smoothly in his native tongue.

“This garden… I made. Ah, for flowers,” he said, before switching seamlessly to Japanese. “この部分は少し難しかったけど、ちゃんとできたね。あっ、どう思う？”

You caught enough of what he said—something about it being hard but worth it. “It’s beautiful,” you replied sincerely.

A pleased sound escaped him, and he moved on to show you a beachside café and a Zen garden tucked into a quiet corner of the island. When you reached the mansion, he stopped in front of the doors, his avatar turning to face yours.

“This… my house,” he said, pride evident in his tone. “You… want to see?”

“Yes!” you answered without hesitation.

Inside, the rooms were breathtaking. A library with towering shelves, a cozy game room, even a small café—it was all so thoughtful, so detailed.

“This is amazing,” you said, your voice almost reverent. “You’re ridiculously good at this.”

“Of course,” he replied, the grin in his tone unmistakable. “You… like it?”

“I love it,” you admitted, warmth creeping into your words. “Way better than my little cottage.”

He laughed, soft and genuine. “Then… I help. Build your island. Together.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the offer, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. “Together?” you echoed, trying to sound neutral, though your chest tightened at the word.

“Yes,” he said firmly, his voice quieter now, almost shy. “Together. Your island… will be… beautiful.”

The rest of the session passed in a blur of laughter and shared moments, his enthusiasm infectious.

When it was time to log off, his voice softened.

“ありがとう,” he said, switching to Japanese briefly before catching himself. “Ah, thank you. Today… was fun.”

“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back in your chair, your smile lingering. “Thank you too. I had a great time.”

A quiet pause hung between you, thick with something unspoken.

“Tomorrow?” he asked, his voice tentative.

Your smile faltered slightly. “I have work tomorrow… the time zone difference will be rough.”

“Ah…” His tone dipped in disappointment before brightening again. “Maybe… we video call tomorrow? I would like… to, um… see you!” His voice was bright but tinged with shyness. “I have work too… so it will have to be short…”

You agreed, wishing him a good rest of his night. As the call ended, you flopped onto your bed, rolling over and squealing into your pillow.

Why did he have to be so cute?

This was just a little crush, wasn’t it?

The next day at work was a blur. Your usual tasks felt sluggish, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of the previous night. Every time you remembered Satoru’s laugh or his teasing tone, your cheeks warmed. And the way he had shyly asked to video call? It made your heart flutter in a way you didn’t quite want to admit.

By the time your shift ended, you were practically vibrating with anticipation. The first thing you did when you got home was toss your bag aside, throw on something comfortable, and grab your phone. Sure enough, there was a Discord notification waiting for you.

青眼の白龍: “Ready when you are! 💙”

You swallowed, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing back:

“Give me 5 mins! Just got home!”

Five minutes turned into ten as you paced back and forth, trying to calm your nerves. It’s just a casual video call, nothing to freak out about, right? But the what-ifs kept creeping in. What if he didn’t like the way you looked? What if… he wasn’t what you expected? What if it made things awkward?

The familiar Discord ringtone snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you hit accept.

The screen flickered to life, and there he was.

White hair messily swept back, striking electric blue eyes behind thin, round glasses, and a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He looked just like his avatar—or maybe his avatar looked like him.

“Hello, y/n,” he greeted, his voice softer than usual, almost as if testing the waters. “Nice to… see you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how casually handsome he was. “H-Hi! Wow, um…” You cleared your throat, trying to collect yourself. “It’s nice to see you too. You look… different than I expected.”

“Oh?” His smirk widened, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “Good different? Or bad?”

“Good!” you blurted, a little too quickly. “I mean… definitely good.”

He chuckled, resting his chin in his hand as he tilted his head slightly. “You’re… cute.”

The compliment hit you like a bolt of lightning, sending your thoughts scrambling. Some part of you—some insecurity—immediately questioned it. Did he mean it? You’d just come off work; you had to look exhausted.

“Ah… thank you,” you said hesitantly, your eyes darting away from the screen.

“You look… tired,” he continued, his tone soft, almost curious. “I… never asked.” His brows furrowed slightly as he seemed to search for his next words. “What do you do? Office work?”

You hummed for a moment, trying to compose yourself. Tilting your head with a slight laugh, you replied, “No, I teach children. Uh… third grade, so little ones.” You gestured with your hands, mimicking their small size.

His bright blue eyes lit up with excitement, his voice rising in response. “I teach too! Mmm, not little ones but university!”

You froze for a second, processing his words. He’s a professor? He seemed so young for that. The thought triggered a flicker of doubt in the back of your mind—echoing a coworker’s warning about being cautious online. What if he’s not who he says he is? What if this is all some elaborate lie?

You shook off the thought, scolding yourself internally. What’s up with these thoughts today?

“That’s… impressive,” you said after a pause, leaning closer to the screen, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “What do you teach?”

“Ah… Astrophysics,” he replied, the grin on his face widening as if he could already sense your surprise. His tone was casual, but there was a quiet pride behind his words. “It’s fun. Students… sometimes annoying, but fun.”

You blinked, letting the word sink in. “Astrophysics?” you repeated, half in disbelief. “That sounds… intense.”

He tilted his head slightly, searching for the right word. “Ah… not so bad. Maybe, uh… easier for me? For others… I think, hard.” He paused, frowning slightly. “Did that… make sense?”

“Yes,” you reassured him with a laugh. “You’re saying it’s easier for you than for most people?”

He nodded, his frown disappearing as his smirk returned. “Yes, that! See? You are good teacher. You understand me fast.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re easy to read. Astrophysics though? That’s still way more impressive than wrangling a room full of third graders.”

He chuckled, leaning closer to the camera. “No, no. Little kids? Impossible for me. University students… sometimes annoying, but they don’t… ah… bite?” He paused, tilting his head as he searched for the word again. “Wait, they don’t, um… scratch?”

“Bite was right,” you said, a light laugh escaping your lips as you nodded.

“Ah, yes! Bite. Thank you,” he said, his smile softening. “So scary. I think… I fail with little ones.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you teased, relaxing further as the conversation flowed. “Third graders are like… mini tornados. Adorable, but absolute chaos.”

He laughed, a bright, genuine sound that made your cheeks warm. “Mini tornados? That is… cute. But I like my students. Less energy.”

Over the next hour, you found out more about him than you expected. He casually explained his academic background—bachelor’s, master’s, and PhD in just five years. The words rolled out naturally, though he occasionally paused to clarify a term or switch to Japanese when he couldn’t quite find the English equivalent.

“So… you’re twenty-eight and already a professor?” you asked, blinking at the screen.

He shrugged, brushing off the awe in your tone. “Yes. It is normal. I… uh…” He paused, struggling again before switching to Japanese. “早く進みすぎたかもしれないけど、まあ退屈だったし。”

Your Japanese wasn’t perfect, but you caught the gist of it—something about finishing quickly because he was bored. “Bored?” you echoed with a laugh. “Who gets bored earning a PhD?”

He grinned, his voice lilting with playfulness. “Me.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased.

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, testing the word slowly. “What is… ah… meaning?”

“It means silly. Like… unbelievable,” you explained.

“Ah… silly.” He chuckled. “Yes. I am silly.”

Before the call ended, Satoru leaned closer to the camera, his glasses slipping slightly as he gave you a wide-eyed look that was almost comically earnest.

“We call tomorrow, right? Same time?” he asked, his voice dipping into a softer tone. “Please? Or… at least Minecraft? I’ll wait.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness, though it warmed your chest. “Alright, alright. I’ll be there.”

For the next month, you and Satoru fell into a comfortable rhythm. Calls became part of your routine—sometimes to play Minecraft, other times just to talk. He continued to tease you, and you found yourself looking forward to his moments of stumbling English, where he’d pause, switch to Japanese, and glance at you expectantly, waiting for you to help bridge the gap.

One evening, as you both worked on a new Minecraft build, the sound of him mumbling softly in Japanese filled the quiet. You smiled, listening as his voice trailed off into focused silence.

“Ah… do you ever plan on visiting Japan?” he asked suddenly, breaking the calm. His tone was casual, though there was a hint of genuine curiosity beneath it. His attention seemed split between the game and your answer.

You paused, considering the question. “Honestly? I’d love to. It’s on my bucket list, but… it’s so far, and plane tickets aren’t exactly cheap.”

He hummed thoughtfully, his avatar stopping mid-movement on the screen. “Far, yes. But… worth it.” He paused again, switching to Japanese briefly. “とても素敵だから、一度は見てほしいね。あ、それに…” He switched back to English, stumbling slightly. “Ah, and if you come, I’ll… show you everything. Best ramen, best views… everything.”

Your heart gave a little flip at his sincerity, though you tried to keep your tone light. “That’s a big offer. What if I actually take you up on it?”

“I hope you do,” he replied smoothly, his grin audible even through the call. “But only if you bring… uh… snacks? From your country. I want to try.”

“Snacks?” you repeated, laughing. “They’d never survive the trip.”

“Then…” He paused, his voice dipping lower, softer. “You’ll have to bring yourself.”

Your breath caught, heat rising in your cheeks as you quickly turned your attention back to the game. “I’ll think about it,” you said lightly, though your heart was pounding.

He let out a soft laugh, the sound full of quiet amusement. “Good. I’ll wait.”

The rest of the session passed in easy conversation, but his words lingered long after you logged off.

As you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, one thought kept replaying in your mind: maybe visiting Japan wasn’t such a far-fetched idea after all.

The next day at work, as you prepped for the day, your coworker perched herself on one of the desks, her coffee in hand. She watched you with mild curiosity as you snipped away at construction paper for an activity.

“Still talking to that Japanese guy?” she asked casually, though her tone carried the weight of unsolicited advice. “Honey, long distance doesn’t work. Especially with a twelve-hour difference…”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you focused on cutting out shapes. “It’s not like we’re dating or anything. He’s just… cute. Nice. Funny.”

Your coworker raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. And?”

You shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s… nice, you know? Having someone to look forward to talking to. It’s attention I didn’t know I missed.”

She barked a laugh, nearly spilling her coffee. “Wow, is this the same person who, like, a month ago said, ‘I don’t need a relationship. I have dating simulators for that’? So, what, is he your IRL dating sim?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the sheepish grin tugging at your lips. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure,” she said, drawing the word out, her tone laced with teasing skepticism. Then her expression softened. “Listen, I get it. I really do. He sounds great, and I support you, but…” She hesitated, watching your hands pause mid-cut. “I also don’t want to see you get hurt, you know? Long distance is hard. And if he’s not serious…”

Her voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken warning hanging in the air.

You looked up, meeting her gaze, and gave a small, almost apologetic smile. “I know. It’s not like I’m expecting anything serious. It’s just… fun.”

Then, almost without thinking, you blurted, “I bought a plane ticket to Japan.”

Her coffee cup froze halfway to her lips. “You what?”

“I’m going over spring break,” you admitted, feeling yourself mumble through your words. “It was kind of impulsive…”

“Kind of?” she exclaimed, setting her coffee down on the desk. “Girl, you don’t even know this man in person! What if he’s not who he says he is? What if it’s weird? What if you don’t even like each other in real life?”

“I’ve thought about that!” you countered, though your defensive tone didn’t sound as convincing as you hoped. “We’ve been talking for a little over a month. He’s genuine. I feel like I know him, and it’s not like I’m staying with him or anything. I have my own hotel and everything planned.”

She stared at you for a long moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “Okay, you’re a grown adult. I can’t tell you what to do, but… just promise me you’ll be careful. Text me every day. Hell, drop your location, make sure someone knows where you are at all times.”

“I will,” you said quickly, eager to reassure her. “I’m not stupid.”

“Debatable,” she muttered under her breath, but the teasing smile on her face softened the blow.

You laughed, shaking your head as you went back to prepping your materials. Still, her words stayed with you, a small knot of doubt twisting in your stomach.

Later that evening, when Satoru’s name popped up on your screen, the nervous excitement came flooding back.

青眼の白龍: “Ready for tonight? 💙”

You hesitated for a moment before typing back.

“Actually… I need to tell you something.”

As the familiar Discord ringtone rang out, your nerves buzzed like live wires. You took a deep breath before hitting accept.

The screen flickered to life, and there he was—messy white hair, bright blue eyes, and that playful smirk you were starting to associate with comfort.

“Hello, y/n!” he greeted cheerfully, his voice as warm and inviting as always. “You look… nervous. Hmm?”

You let out a shaky laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Maybe a little.”

His brow furrowed, and he leaned closer to the camera, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “Why? Bad day? Tell me.”

“Not a bad day,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Just… something on my mind.”

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Ah… what is it?”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your desk. “I, um… I bought a plane ticket.”

There was a beat of silence. His avatar in Minecraft froze on the screen as you waited for his reaction. Then, he blinked, his lips parting in surprise.

“Plane ticket?” he repeated slowly, his English halting as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly. “Where…? Why?”

“To Japan,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat as you blurted it out. “Over spring break. I thought… maybe…”

His eyes widened, the smirk completely wiped off his face as his expression shifted to something closer to astonishment. “Wait. Really?” His voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat. “You… you come here?”

You nodded, your heart hammering in your chest. “Yeah. It was kind of impulsive, but… I figured if I don’t do it now, I might never get the chance.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process the information. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—wide and unrestrained, the kind of grin that made your stomach flip.

“You’re serious,” he said, switching to Japanese as he leaned back in his chair. “本当に来るの？信じられない…”

“Yeah,” you said softly, catching the gist of his words. “I mean it. I’m coming.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his grin still plastered across his face. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say. I’m… happy. Excited. Ah, I should… plan something! Show you Japan! But…” He hesitated, his brow furrowing. “Is it okay? I mean, for you? It’s… far.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, smiling. “I’ve always wanted to visit. And… I want to meet you.”

His grin softened into something warmer, something more vulnerable. “I want to meet you too.”

For the rest of the evening, the conversation shifted to plans for your trip. Satoru’s excitement was contagious as he rattled off a list of places he wanted to take you—shrines, ramen shops, hidden cafes, and even the university where he taught. Occasionally, his words stumbled, and he’d switch to Japanese, laughing at himself before you helped fill in the gaps.

“Ah, your Japanese…” he teased at one point, his avatar running playful circles around yours in the game. “Still too formal. I teach you, okay? When you’re here, you’ll sound like a local.”

You laughed, about to fire back with a joke, but Satoru suddenly interrupted, his excitement bubbling over.

“Ah! I will send you a list of hotels,” he said quickly, his words coming out in a rush. “Uh… my family owns a few. Really good! Safe areas too! And… and send me your dates. I will take time off… mmm, and send me—”

“Satoru,” you interrupted gently, your laughter spilling through the call as you tried to slow him down. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He paused, his avatar freezing on the screen as if to mimic his momentary loss for words. Then, after a beat, he let out a soft chuckle, his voice quieter now. “I’m just… excited.”

“I can tell,” you teased, the warmth in your tone making him laugh again.

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I can’t help it. I’ve never…” He trailed off, his words faltering before he switched to Japanese. “こういうのって初めてだから…すごく楽しみで。”

You caught most of it—something about this being a first for him and how excited he was—and your chest tightened at the sincerity in his voice.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?” he said, switching back to English, though his words were slower, more careful now. “Send me… things you want to do. I’ll reserve it for you. Japanese residents… we get early slots for some things.”

“Okay,” you replied softly, your heart thudding in your chest.

There was a pause, the kind that felt heavier than it should, and then he spoke again.

“I can’t wait to see you, y/n,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a sense of vulnerability.

“I can’t wait to see you either,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching just long enough to feel significant before he let out another soft laugh.

“Tomorrow,” he said finally, as if to reassure both of you.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated with a smile, and then the call ended.