#the way i gasped when fizz appeared

[keepyourlife]

Blitzø and Fizzarolli in "The Full Moon"

[fourmoony]

fizz pop lolly - James Potter x Fem!Reader

smut, barely any plot. p in v. unprotected sex. language. james is a bit of a perv.

18+ work, minors DNI.

not proof read. 2k words.

...

It’s pervy.

James knows it’s pervy, but he can’t stop himself. You’re not even aware he’s ogling you, gone in your own world that he imagines has fairies, rainbows and butterflies floating around in that pretty little head of yours. He’s sure if anyone caught sight of him staring, they’d catch on immediately, know just how sick and twisted his mind really is because his eyes are dead set on the hemline of your skirt, his mouth open awaiting flies. You’re resting your hands on the table on the far side of the library, supposedly reading a textbook for a source you need for your essay on Care of Magical Creatures, and the way you’re bent over ever so slightly has your skirt rising from its already high placement.

It's sick. It’s downright fucking twisted. You’re so sweet, so innocent, such a pretty soul – for fucks sakes you run study groups and tutor first years in your rare free time – and all James can think about is how he wants to walk up behind you, put his hand between your shoulder blades and push until you’re flat against the table, flat against his dick.

But.

But it would be criminal not to look, right? Not to enjoy the way you pop your hip to the left when your legs obviously get tired of having stood up for so long. He swears he can make out the bottom of your arse cheek and he about chokes on his own bloody saliva. Your legs look so smooth, like he could run his hands up and down them, listen to the quickening of your breath and feel nothing but silk. God, he’s deranged. Guilt swirls in his stomach with lust, a never-ending battle that he shouldn’t be staring – actually, he should probably go over and tell you he’s likely not the only one looking, for your own sake – but that he physically cannot bring himself to stop.

He can’t stop thinking about you, about how you’d feel wrapped around him, soft and pliant under him, the sounds you’d make. He’s hard as a rock, blood rushing from his head to his dick and he finds it’s getting easier and easier to keep looking, guilt free, with the lack of blood up there.

He’s both grateful and ready to raise hell when Sirius appears behind you, returning from his hunt for a book he’d needed for a prank, and blocks you from James’ view. Sirius takes a seat across from James and he groans inwardly. Sirius’ stupid head is blocking your perfect arse from James’ view and that won’t do.  

“How can I see the book if you’re sitting over there?” James tries.

Sirius looks up, brows furrowed, “Uhm, you don’t need to? I’ll just tell you once I find the spell.”

“Yeah, but- Like, I need to- wouldn’t it be better if I checked it? Made sure it was the right spell?” James stutters like an absolute fool, and he wants to bang his fucking head into the desk.

Sirius catches on immediately. James wants to die as his best friend looks around, spotting you behind him. His head whips around at breakneck speed, his eyes wide with mischief. James jumps into action, trying to cover Sirius’ mouth before he makes an announcement that James Potter is a massive fucking pervert in front of the entirety of the Hogwarts Library. Sirius dodges, laughing maniacally, breathless and sputtering and James just panics and shoves the table as hard as he can into Sirius’ stomach and ribs.

He heaves a breath of air, winded, eyes wide and accusatory. Problem solved, James thinks, whilst Sirius is doubled over, head no longer blocking his view. Until he looks up, eyes searching, and finds you sauntering over, brows furrowed. Shit, he thinks, shit, shit, fucking shit.

“What are you two up to, now?” You ask, brow raised and a hint of a smile on your lips.

And oh god, your lips. So full, so soft, so pretty. James feels like he’s the one who’s had a table slammed into his ribs. Sirius still has his head on the desk, groaning and gasping for air. James couldn’t give two shits when you take the seat next to his, give him your full attention, cross one of your legs over the other and sit oh so bloody pretty. Godric, James would like to ruin you.

“Oh, nothing. Just studying.” James tries his best at casual.

You look at the table in front of you with amusement. There’s no study material. Just empty sweetie wrappers, a couple marbles and the one book Sirius needed for a prank. James flushes red. Fuck.

“Hm. Clearly.” You say, eyes twinkling.

You’re so beautiful, James thinks. So fucking pretty.

“Well,” You chirp when James literally can’t think of anything to say, “Next time Sirius is about to out you for staring at my arse, I’d go for a silencing charm over bodily harm.”

With that, you stand and turn, and James is pretty much face to face with said arse. You bend a little, pretending to fix your socks and James thinks he’s going to die. Literally. Die. Like, on the spot. You’re so sweet, so innocent – or so he thought. He’s in over his head. Truly. His brain simply short circuits. You leave, walking away, swinging your hips as you go and James is up and out of his seat, hot on your heels. You feel him at your back, smile to yourself. Sirius holds a finger up to James as he leaves, only to be thwarted on the back of the head by Madam Pince as she passes.

James follows you through the hallways, up staircases, until he realises, you’re headed for the seventh-floor corridor. It’s dark and abandoned and a well-known area for hooking up. His heart rate accelerates. If he’d have known you’d catch him staring and bring him here? He’d have felt less guilty about it and done it way more often.

You stop and turn to face him at the end of the corridor, swallowed by shadows but he can still see the bright shine to your eyes, the wideness of your smile. You’re waiting, playing games and James always wins.

“You were showing off on purpose?” He asks, crowding you against the wall.

You look up, bite your lip and fuck James is pretty much gone already. Your head tilts, hair sprawling over your shoulder, picture of innocence. James knows now that it’s a farse. And he’s determined to break the act, have you begging, pleading, destroyed for and by him. Your hands, dainty and a little cold, reach out for his forearms, pulling him slightly towards you. He smiles, a hint of knowing in his eyes that has your knees buckling.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Jamie.”

James tuts, towering over you. He presses his lips to the side of your neck, inhales your perfume and fuck he’s hard all over again, “You know fine well what you were doing to me.”

You hum, hands running up his arms to rest on his shoulders, sliding around to the nape of his neck and grabbing a fist of his hair. “Maybe.”

James smiles, nips the skin at the nape of your neck. He pushes his weight against you, you sigh in delight. His hands are everywhere, along your waist, the tops of your thighs, your tits. It’s not until he slides his hands up your skirt, desperate to feel the flesh of your arse that he realises you’re not wearing any underwear and he almost comes on sight. His breath is shuddering, mouth pressed against the skin of your neck and dear Godric, he thinks, how could he have ever assumed you were anything other than a dirty, filthy slut?

“I really wanted to take my time,” He huffs, pulling back until he’s centimetres from your lips, “But right now the only thing I can think about is ruining you.”

You nod, a huff of breath like it’s been punched out of your lungs at his words, “Please.”

With that, James kisses you. Hot and heavy and dirty and fuck he’s never been so glad to have been perving on you. You moan when he lifts you up, hands firm on the backs of your thighs, like you weigh nothing and keeps you propped up with his hips against the wall. It’s all consuming, having him everywhere, all around you. His smell, his sound, his tongue searching your mouth, his lips, his teeth, his hands, his dick, pressed so nice against your bare cunt.

He shifts, you squeal, head hitting against the brick wall.

His fingers trace you, teasing, only for a second, before he’s knuckle deep and you’re keening, bucking against him, fingers digging crescent moons into his shoulders. James swears he’s in heaven, the way he has you – desperate and soaking fucking wet. All because of him.

“James,” You moan, one hand cupping his neck and cheek, your hooded eyes are looking into his, “Need more. Need you. Please.”

James isn’t going to make you ask twice. Maybe when he has more time. Next time he’s going to take his time. Next time he’s going to be patient, watch you fall apart, make you beg. At least, he hopes there’ll be a next time. He thinks he might die if he never gets to see you like this again. Your head is thrown back, neck exposed, breaths coming in pants as he whips himself out of his trousers. He lines himself up, you keen, and he takes a deep breath before he slams up into you.

You practically scream, clenching around him, legs tightening around his waist. James swears he sees stars. You’re so warm, so tight, and you’re whimpering and bucking against him. He feels hot and heavy and he’s hitting spots you never imagined. The breath punches from your lungs when he sets a fast and hard pace, hands gripping at any skin he can find. He’s moaning into your skin, grunts and profanities and you’re sure that anyone who comes within a mile of the seventh-floor corridor will hear the sinful noises coming from the pair of you.

It’s hot and dizzying and your skin feels like it’s on fire with every thrust that he bullies into you.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, so tight…” James is aware he’s just speaking his mind, unfiltered and uncaring. He has no shame, not when he’s slamming into you like it’s his sole purpose on this earth. Maybe it is, he thinks.

You groan, clenching around him, “Jamie, I’m so close.”

“I know, I know, let go, pretty girl.” He coos, reaching between you to rub at the swollen bundle of nerves that’s been crying out for attention.

You spasm, coming on the spot at the stimulation and his words. He’s two seconds behind you, an embarrassingly loud moan escaping him, but he can’t find it in him to care when you’re still whining and bucking against him. You’re both seeing stars, pressed together, still fully clothed, breathless, and floating down.

Realisation sets in, the silence of the corridor is deafening.

Until you laugh.

You giggle maniacally like he’s said the funniest thing in the world and James frowns in confusion. He lets you down, tucks himself back into his pants all whilst you’re still giggling. It’s not until you stop, breathless, and reach up to press a kiss to his lips that he smiles dumbly.

“Took you long enough, Potter.”

James’ head spins. You’re there, standing in front of him, two seconds after being completely ruined, whining, and bucking on him, innocent act completely gone. He’s so dopily happy at the way you’re smiling up at him.

“How long-“

“The time you were staring at me eating a fizz pop lolly.” You answer for him.

This time, James laughs. Six months. You’ve known for six months that he’s been innately obsessed with you.

“Fucks sakes.”

You giggle again and fall into his arms, he pulls you backwards, pliant in his arms as you laugh and stumble all the way along the hallway.

[jokeringcutio]

"This is a Nice Job" - Black Phone & FNAF Crossover - Reader Insert (Implied William Afton x Reader & Grabber x Reader) [ 1/?]

AN: As I am known to do, I might just start a few drabbles in this setting because I love it.

Summary: You're working at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place for William Afton and Mr. Henry, when you have a chat with the hired magician for the day: The Great Al.

Fandoms: Five Nights at Freddy's, The Black PhoneRating: Teen? Warnings: Older man/younger woman, Nothing Explicit (yet), Only implied William Afton x Reader & Grabber(Albert Shaw) x Reader, Flirting with murderers? Reader likes her job around kids. Not betaread. [ Support x ]

This was actually inspired by @cartoonykat's ask:

Loud music filled your ears, interrupted by the occasional shouts of little children as you darted between the tables, a tray of fizzing drinks balanced precariously in your grip. The squeals and laughter of children swirled around you, their faces smeared with icing and joy. You placed a paper cup before each eager set of hands, your smile never faltering.

"Careful now, don't spill," you murmured, patting a small head as its owner looked up at you with wide, grateful eyes.

"Thank you!" the child chirped, clutching the drink like a treasure.

"Happy to help," you replied, your voice a soft melody amid the cacophony of celebration.

Your gaze swept across the room, ensuring all was well, when the sudden hush of captivated little ones snagged your attention. There, at the center of the restaurant, stood Albert Shaw, the hired magician for today’s party. Freddy’s Pizza Place usually had a few performers they worked with, including a clown and this magician. His white-painted face was stark against the backdrop of colorful streamers, his large sunglasses hiding eyes that held secrets darker than the void.

‘The Great Al’, they called him, as he conjured silk scarves from his large top hat, making them dance like serpents charmed by his will alone. With the hat off you could see the shoulder-length dark hair that he hid underneath his hat most of the time. It was already turning grey, betraying his age which was harder to pinpoint with all the makeup covering his face.

He plucked coins from behind ears, eliciting gasps and giggles from his audience, each trick a thread in the tapestry of his dark artistry. He was good with the kids, you thought. His low voice occasionally made its way over the music that he had playing in the background. You found yourself rooted to the spot, your heart thudding a dangerous rhythm.

"Watch closely," he intoned, his low gravelly voice a siren's call that reverberated through your bones. A deck of cards appeared in his hands, flickering through his fingers as if alive. Strong hands, you noted. Thick fingers. Delicious. No – You shook the dirty thoughts away. You shouldn’t be thinking about one of the restaurant’s performers like that.

And then, with a flourish that defied logic, the cards transformed into a flurry of doves, their wings beating against the still air of the restaurant. The children erupted in applause, but you barely heard them. Your pulse quickened. The magician smiled as he revealed a small box and teased the kids with it. It was empty, but after a magical spell, the box was suddenly filled with enough candy to share around. You’d seen this performance several times now, and every time he managed to captivate you.

"Impossible," someone whispered beside you, echoing the disbelief that churned in your thoughts.

Al's performance built to a crescendo, the very air charged with anticipation. With a final bow, he finished, receiving thunderous cheers from his young fans.

"Amazing," you breathed, the word slipping out like a prayer to a deity you were only beginning to comprehend.

"Excuse me,” the voice cut through the din of merriment, stark and commanding. You flinched, recognizing the voice before you turned around. “Could you come here for a moment?"

Oh no, have I done something wrong? The worried voice echoed inside your mind. I was only looking for a moment, Mr. Afton, you thought to yourself, focusing on what you could say in your defense. I was still on the job and paying attention.

Mr. Afton, your boss and one of the restaurant’s owners, stood in the dimly lit entrance to his office, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He was tall, his stature was impressive for a man of his age. Already greying at the top, hair thinning, large glasses enlarging his eyes, belly poking out from underneath his arms.

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the excited group of kids that had gathered around Albert Shaw. But duty called, its voice as inescapable as gravity. With one last glance at the festive chaos of the party, you made your way toward your boss, the weight of his stare pulling you forward like a marionette on taut strings.

"Mr. Afton," you greeted him, striving for a tone of respectful professionalism despite the unease coiling in your stomach.

"Come inside my office," not a question, but a demand thinly veiled with kindness. His lips curled into a semblance of a smile, not quite reaching the coldness of his eyes behind those aviator glasses.

Mr. Afton was a tall man, taller than most that you met in your life. His hair was thinning on top and greying but still had a lively curl to it. His eyes seemed larger behind the thick glasses he wore. Strands of grey adorned his pepper-and-salt beard. He was the exact definition of a ‘dad bod’.  In fact, you had heard he had a family, even though you’d never seen them. Rumors said he was divorced.

You followed him inside to see a large desk, files, and papers strewn all over it. There was an animatronic in the corner of the room, purple, with ears hanging. You thought it might be some kind of rabbit.

The thud of the door closing behind you made you jump and you turned to look behind you to see Afton had closed it. His eyes met yours, only for a short while, and you fidgeted nervously with your hands because… had you done something wrong? Had he caught you looking at the magician? That must have been it, there was nothing else it could have been. He must think you to be slacking. But you weren’t. You were still alert, still focused on any peep from a parent or child.

You needed this job and actually liked it more than you thought you would.

"I've been watching you,” your boss started, licking his lips as he walked toward his desk and then turned to lean against it. He folded his arms in front of his chest, his purple tie wrinkling with the motion against his yellow blouse. The sleeves were pulled up, showing strong forearms riddled with veins and scars.

“You have a knack for this,” he started in that low, stern voice of his. “Keeping the little ones entertained."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, shuffling awkwardly in front of his desk. There was a chair there, but should you sit down? He remained standing so you should too, right? Your mind was racing. Had you done something wrong? Had you not followed protocol? Was your uniform in order?

"I just want to make sure they're all having a good time," the words stumbled from your lips, clumsily and awkwardly, but the smile you managed afterward seemed to soften the look in Mr. Afton’s eyes.

"Indeed." He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, like a storm cloud blotting out the sun. "However, I couldn't help but notice you seemed... distracted. By the magician, was it?"

You swallowed hard, caught off guard. "He's very talented," you deflected, but Mr. Afton's gaze pierced through your defenses, reading unspoken words.

“I,” you hesitated and watched as your boss raised a brow. Swallowing down your fear and gathering your courage, you spoke up again, louder this time. “I was still keeping an eye on the kids and delivering orders though. I might have seemed distracted but I was still doing my job.”

“So it seems,” Mr. Afton murmured, pressing a finger against his lips thoughtfully. You watched the wrinkle between his eyes deepen as he frowned.

"Be careful," he murmured, his voice silk over steel. "You are a pretty girl and I have noticed the man has been looking at you. People aren't always what they seem." There was a warning there, wrapped in the velvet of concern, yet it felt like a threat all the same.

"Of course, Mr. Afton. I'll remember that." Your words were steady, but inside, confusion and curiosity churned. Why did it feel like he cared? And why did it matter so much?

"Good." He clasped your shoulder briefly – a gesture that tried to be fatherly but felt possessive. "Keep up the good work. We need employees like you."

"Thank you, sir." You nodded, excusing yourself from his heavy gaze, a strange sense of relief flooding you as you stepped back into the colorful light of the party.

But as you returned to refilling cups and plating slices of cake, you couldn't shake the feeling of Mr. Afton's eyes on you, nor could you ignore the tingling sensation where his hand had been.

What had that been all about?

You wove through the sea of balloons and streamers, your heart still thudding from Mr. Afton's cryptic parting words. The din of the party enveloped you, a cacophony of glee that almost drowned out the lingering unease. Almost.

The magician, Albert Shaw, stood center stage, lowering his sunglasses to reveal his pale eyes sweeping over the crowd like a predator surveying prey. Tiny hands clapped with fervor as he flourished his final trick – a bouquet appearing from thin air. The children squealed, their delight pure and infectious. But when your gaze met his, something flickered there – an abyss that beckoned and repelled.

"Bravo!" The word slipped from your lips, but the echo in your mind whispered caution.

"Thank you, my dear audience!" Shaw's voice wrapped around the room, velvet lined with smoke. His bow was elegant, yet each movement seemed calculated, a dance with shadows only he could see.

As you slipped behind the bar, the festive chaos became a blur. You began stacking cups, the routine task grounding you. You missed Erica and Lucy. They at least pulled you into conversations every now and again. Today, your only colleagues were Mike and El, who were just teenagers whose hormones had started to work and who were way too busy with each other than with managing the tables. And there were Justin and Jax. The two J’s. Boys who had worked here for so much longer than you that they often forgot you were there and were mostly talking to each other.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, focusing on the music that played from the speakers softly in the background, that you hadn’t noticed the magician’s approach until his presence loomed over you. Albert Shaw leaned against the polished wood, his silhouette casting a long shadow in the neon glow.

"Could I trouble you for a glass of water?" His request was simple, mundane, but it crawled under your skin, insistent.

That voice, you thought, hearing that deliciously dark rasp in it. Was he a smoker? Whatever caused his voice to sound like that, it worked for you. It did things no employee should have to go through during working hours.

Embarrassing really.

"Of course," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremble in your fingers. "It's on the house," you joked. You poured the water, the liquid crystal clear and innocent, an odd contrast to the darkness that seemed to cling to him.

"Generous," he remarked, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. It was a smile that promised secrets, a whisper of sin.

“I do have lemonade, soda, perhaps a fizzy drink?” You offered, cocking a brow. “I know there are cans of beer in the back. I could get a real drink for you. No costs.”

The man’s expression was hard to read, with all the makeup and the dark glasses hiding his bright eyes once more. But you thought you could see his smirk grow. His fingers curled around the glass of water, muscles tensing.

“A soda, then,” he said after a contemplative hum. “I still need to drive home.”

“A soda it is then,” you confirmed, looking at him from over your shoulder as you set to work to get him his free drink. “Most men prefer the beers.”

“Like I said,” his gravelly voice came while he tapped the brim of his top hat. “Got to drive.”

You watched as he sipped from his glass of water. Little droplets of sweat were running down the sides of his cheeks, smudging the white of his makeup.

“Responsible,” you murmured, placing the soda in front of him. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks.” He took the glass, fingers brushing yours. Electric. Intentional. You inhaled sharply, the air suddenly thick with something unspoken.

Your pulse raced. This man was danger masquerading as charm, and yet, you were drawn like a moth to a flame.

You cleared your throat and quickly turned away.

"Nice performance," you managed, feeling heat creep into your cheeks. The innocence of the party around you clashed with the intensity of the moment, the frivolity of balloon animals and birthday cake juxtaposed against the enigma before you. You were vaguely aware of eyes upon you, but when you looked up, all of your co-workers were busy minding themselves.

“You’ve seen me perform before,” the magician said. Touché. He was right there. “Was today’s better than all my other performances? Or just not as bad?”

You turned to face him again, forcing a small smile.

“It’s always a pleasure to watch your shows,” you hesitatingly confessed. Were your cheeks red again? Could he see that you were blushing? You hoped not. You clumsily started to wipe the bar with a wet rag, wiping away stains of spilled drinks and oily fries.

"Albert Shaw," he introduced himself formally, though you already knew. His name had been murmured in hushed, awed tones all day. He was on the list in the backrooms, hired via Abracadabra Entertainment & Supplies. You knew Afton and Henry bought most of their balloons and garlands from them as well. Although the agency wasn’t as big as Ha-Ha’s, from which they hired their clowns.  

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Shaw." Your reply was automatic, but your mind was alight with curiosity and a dangerous thrill. You lifted the wet rag, showing you couldn’t shake hands with him, to which he took no notice. He reached for your free hand, despite it being wet from the rag as well, took it without hesitation, and shook it.

You stood frozen, uncertain of what to do or how to react, when his hand was already long gone. But Albert was already talking, seemingly unaware of how the little gesture – that little skin-on-skin contact – had rattled you.

"Please, call me Albert." His tone was insistent, a command cloaked in courtesy.

"Then you should call me…" You cut yourself short, almost giving away more than you meant to, "a fan of your work." Not that he wouldn’t know your name by now. It was on a badge on your chest.

"Perhaps one day," he said softly, "you'll show me what you're a fan of up close." The suggestion hung heavy between you, tantalizing and terrifying.

"Maybe," you breathed, the word barely more than a whisper.

As he leaned forward, his finger darted out to the badge on your chest. “Pretty name,” the words tumbled from his lips far more erotically than they should have. “Fits you.”

He then leaned back on the stool in front of the bar and picked up his glass while you spun around with cheeks all flushed, the wet rag still in your hands. You made the error of pressing the rag against your forehead, making you wince and leave for the backroom to get rid of it and dry your head.

This man was making you do weird things.

Upon your return, he was still at the bar, finishing a talk to one of the parents, and seemed to have taken his glasses off. Finally. Wearing sunglasses indoors was weird. As the dad left, Albert turned back to you and nursed his drink. Your eyes deliberately focused on the kids playing, rather than on the way the magician’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank.

Yup. Definitely not going to look at that.

“You’re enjoying this job, aren’t you?” Albert’s words caught you by surprise and you turned to him.

“Well, yes,” you said, because it was obvious. At least you hoped it was.

“You’re smiling radiantly. Like a bright star in the night,” Albert said, a toothy smile cracked the white of his makeup.

“Well," you replied, trying to steady your breathing. "Their laughter, it's... it's infectious." Your words fluttered out, betraying the turmoil within.

"Laughter, yes," he echoed, but something about his tone felt off. It gave you that weird shivery feeling down your spine. "The sound of pure... innocence."

He drank the soda, watching you over the rim of the glass, and you knew that this was no ordinary thirst. This was the thirst of a man accustomed to getting what he desires, by means unknown and best left unexplored.

You shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his stare heavy on your skin and you vaguely excused yourself. “I got swipe behind here too or the boss will think I’m not working.” Anything to get away from his eyes.

“Of course,” Albert replied, the grin never leaving his face.

“Didn’t he used to perform as well?” Albert’s question surprised you and you blinked up, already holding a broom in your hands.

“Huh?”

Albert hummed. “The yellow bunny suit, if I remember correctly. He told me about it once.”

You had to stifle a laugh. “What’s up with you performers and hiding your faces?” You asked. “You, the clowns, all use makeup. And the acrobat lady too. Or they wear big suits with masks.”

"Ah, but we all wear masks, don't we?" Albert tilted his head, a lock of greying hair falling across his brow.

"Sometimes without knowing it," you agreed, feeling the truth of those words more than you cared to admit. Then you sighed, the broom nearly slipping out of your hands.

“I don’t like wearing masks though,” you admitted almost dreamily. “I like to show the world who I really am. Putting on a front seems incredibly tiresome to me, don’t you agree?”

When your eyes met those of Albert, they were unreadable.

“It’s an astonishing thing, to be bashfully and unashamedly oneself.” The words came out brittle, then he reached into the pocket of his black coat.

"Here," he said, slipping a card from his sleeve with a flourish that made you jump. The black and red design swirled before your eyes, hypnotic. "In case you ever need a touch of magic."

His smile was a predator's grin, yet oddly charming.

“Got to do all my advertising myself. And since you were impressed…”

"Thank you," you stammered, feeling the card's smooth edges as you took it. The numbers danced under your fingertips, promising things unsaid.

"Call anytime," he added with a wink. It felt like a secret pact, one you weren't sure you wanted to be part of.

"Maybe I will," you murmured, pocketing the card, the heat of the exchange lingering like a spell.

As he turned to leave, Mr. Afton's shadow fell over you, icy and suffocating. You looked up to find his gaze locked onto yours, unreadable. Was it anger? Curiosity? Longing?

"Good work today," he said, each word measured and precise, but there was something else in his tone. A darkness that coiled beneath the surface.

"Thank you, Mr. Afton," you responded automatically, trying to sound unaffected. But your heart raced, betraying your composure.

"Keep our guests happy," he continued, his voice low, commanding. "That's what keeps them coming back."

"Of course," you nodded, but his eyes never left yours, pinning you like a butterfly in a case.

After a silence that felt like an eternity, Mr. Afton’s stern gaze finally left your face and he turned away from you. “Good girl,” it was but a low whisper, and you had to blink, wondering if the words had been real or if you had imagined them.

The moment you came out of your daze, Mr. Afton had returned to his office, seating himself behind his desk and leaving the door ajar so that he was in your field of vision. Your eyes searched the bar, but it seemed that ‘The Great Al’ had left.

As you watched Mr. Shaw vanish behind the swinging double doors, a shiver crawled up your spine. Laughter and chattering filled your ears, pulling you back to the here and now. And when you looked up, it was to see Mr. Afton as he lifted his eyes from the papers he was working on. Pale eyes that rested upon you for just a tick too long.

You loved your job, but whatever was going on here, you had no clue. The possibilities that filled your mind were too weird to consider. Patting the card hidden away on your body as a silent reminder to put it in your bag before you went home, you decided to ignore the weird tension that had been in the room earlier. And with a smile on your face, you went back into the sea of kids.

You loved this job and all the odd people you met through it.

AN: Guys, I did a thing (: Have you noticed the Arthur Fleck/Joker hints in it.

[chaifootsteps]

I was trying to think how to recommend watching the show to someone who might have only seen s1 and figured recommending skipping some episodes of s2 might be the best way, but then I noticed something

when I was trying to pin down which episodes of s2 I think are genuinely good to still watch I kinda realized there isn't any?

like even the episodes I think are the 'best' written (as in they're the least frustrating, no Stolas in them obvs) are still rife with plot holes or jokes that don't land

like exes and ohs felt like the last gasp of the old show and even that episodes has Crimson's nonsense marriage plan that doesn't make a lick of sense. it underutilizes Millie to the point it feels like the writers are just being blatant about how little she matters now. it has the unfunny dildos in the wall joke.

and that's the best episode of s2 as far as I'm concerned. the only other one that's relatively not completely sucky is the midseason musical whatever and that's still pretty bland and has a Fizz who feels nothing like his s1 self in it.

even the shorts have plot holes and issues, despite being the closest to the show's original premise (and not featuring Stolas)

like taken as a whole the entire season is just garbage. Ghostfuckers I think is going to be more mid with a potentially very awful suicidality plot point. I think there's a chance the Millie bit is going to be secondary in awfulness to what they do with Blitzo if my hunch is right that they're going to make Tilla appear just as a means to give him catharsis so he can do the thing the show thinks will 'fix' him - get together with Stolas

I'm not sure how the last two are going to play out but there's near 100% going to be Via leaving Stolas for the stupidest reasons the show can conjure up so he can look like he's in the right, again.

the only thing that might be worthwhile from the remaining three episodes is if Stolas realizes he's done wrong and actually apologizes, and faces consequences for being the suckiest Goetia royal ever. but even then I expect the show to tie itself into a pretzel to find a way to minimize what he did or blame Blitzo for some of his misfortune, as if it was his fault Stolas never once said 'I can't talk about this right now, I'm spending time with my daughter/working/actually being a capable adult for once'

the only other thing I'd want from the season 2 finale is for IMP to feel like a family again and that vision of the show is so far in the rearview mirror I wouldn't even bother making it a prediction for the Sinsmas episode. that one should be about family and coming together, but apparently there are leaks suggesting it's the episode where Blitzo finally gives in and goes to play his role as Stolas' white knight, just like Stolas and Viv have been demanding from him all season long

Agreed, unfortunately. The best part of S2 so far has probably been the shorts...otherwise, it feels like a level of aimlessness, retcons, and plot holes that most series don't achieve until after they've run for years and exhausted all their good ideas.

[jolieblack]

Jolie's notes on

The Three Students (Sherlock & Co podcast)

📖 🎓👨‍🏫 This case doesn’t seem to get talked about much… and I think I agree and I know why. I find ACD’s original Three Students story rather unspectacular myself. The setting is very picture-postcard English™️, but it is otherwise completely unexciting. A solid string of observations and deductions eliminates both red herring suspects (painfully red) to arrive at the *gasp!* solution that people may not be who they appear to be on the surface. Decent work, but hardly the stuff that made Sherlock Holmes a legend. Considering that this is what Joel was up against, I’d say he did rather well for the podcast! Because this isn’t a story about a crime now, it’s a story about identity and about belonging. (Once again. I love how this is a recurring theme of our show.)

John abandoning Sherlock, Mariana and their whole project for a wild night of student partying has been called out of character by some commenters, but while I was still at a loss to understand it myself at the end of the first part, by the end of the second part it made sense to me that this whole case is a story about fitting in, about being popular, about FOMO and what FOMO does to people. John didn’t recklessly let Sherlock down in pursuit of instant gratification in the alcohol or flirting department. What actually happened there was John being bowled over by either the memories of his student days and of how much he loved being one of the boys and having a gang to party with that accepted him just the way he was, which he subsequently lost after his army days and injury; or by the memories of how he never really had a gang to belong to, having struggled at university both academically and in the popularity contest, and is catching up to that lovely feeling now. We see the same thing mirrored in Mariana‘s backstory of wanting to fit in with the cool gang at school. Then it gets mirrored in the three students, too, and in what drives them. Even Sherlock isn’t immune from being called the best in his field and it being "cool" that he’s being invited to speak at Oxford. But he - unexpectedly, given his constant sense of being a misfit - ends up being the happiest and most successful of the whole bunch in this adventure, because he fully realises, quicker than anyone else, that has found his family (a doctor from Swindon and an accountant from Sociedad!) and knows exactly where he belongs.

I don’t suppose any of us were surprised that Sherlock’s awkward lecture would end up being the live solving of a case. (We all remember the BBC Sherlock’s wedding speech in season 3 of that show, after all.) Love how he took everyone to task though. Brutal. Fantastic. I knew there was a reason why I love this man.

Details that I loved:

Sherlock stealing everyone’s sausage rolls and framing Archie! 😂 The way Sherlock got demoted from best friend to "roommate" with very sharply enunciated consonants as a punishment cracked me up.

"when I am positively carbonated with the fizzing bubbles of resolution…" - I kept looking for the ACD story that quote comes from, but it’s apparently an Emory original! 👌

I adored John once again being Sherlock’s interpreter for social cues, and how much they’ve perfected their routine by now: Their super-quick "hyperbole or sarcasm?" - "affectionate hyperbole" exchange made me tear up with affection myself.

"I will merely emit a faint glow of intrigue for now." - Another quote that I could have sworn was ACD.

Things I did NOT like: The professor’s accent. This guy was literally painful to listen to. Oxbridge alumni in this fandom, please join me in confirming that Oxbridge professors do not typically talk like that.

So… like in ACD’s stories, we can’t and won’t always have high stakes, dead bodies and mortal danger, but that’s fine with me. These are stories about friendship as much as they are stories about crime, and in this one, insights abound in the former sense.

[levi-supreme]

Take it Slow

Characters: Levi x fem!reader

Genre: Modern!au

Warnings: Smut, minors and ageless blogs dni. Fingering (female receiving), making out, soft shower sex, slight praising, some aftercare. Levi being a total sweetheart and calling you his 'baby girl'.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Happy Thirsty Thursday!! It's D-16 to Levi's birthday! Writing this made me feel really soft and fuwa fuwa (and also very needy) so I hope everyone likes it since it's my first time writing something soft!! Also, thank you @hashaneeee for being my muse and my never-ending source of thirsting and screaming <3 read the original request here!

[27/01/2022] Cross posted to AO3!! Read on AO3 here.

Summary: While showering together, Levi shows you what it feels like to take it slow.

Soaking in the bathtub, you let the warm water surround you, melting under the heat. You heard the rustling of clothes outside and with a tug of the shower curtain, your naked and dashing boyfriend stood by the bathtub, waiting for your silent approval to join in.

Smiling, you shifted around until you were sure Levi had enough space. Easily slipping himself between you and the bathtub, Levi leaned against the side, letting out a satisfied hum of delight. His strong arms found their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Dropping a bath bomb into the bathtub, you watched it fizz and sizzle while you leaned back on Levi's chest.

The both of you sat in the bathtub in silence, basking in the warmth of the water and listening to each other's slow, heavy breathing. You felt yourself dozing off at the comfort of Levi's firm chest. Levi left a kiss against your neck, feeling you squirm just a little. He continued leaving featherlight kisses against your skin, feeling goosebumps appearing whenever his lips left. You let out a soft whine, chuckling when you felt ticklish. You fidgeted in the water, unaware that your bare ass was constantly rubbing against Levi's dick.

Once 20 minutes were up, you tapped Levi's thigh and told him to get up while you unplugged the bathtub. Standing under the shower, you turned it on and felt the water cascade down your body. Levi hugged you from behind, standing under the shower together with you. One of his hands snaked up your chest while the other descended lower, seeking entrance elsewhere.

"Levi..." You whined, a breathy moan following through. One hand massaged your breast, the other drawing circles against your clit. Levi's hold on you was tight, yet his touches were so soft and slow, almost as if he wasn't doing anything at all.

"Mmm, Le—" as goosebumps began dancing, Levi nibbled on the skin just beneath your earlobe, his finger toying with your sensitive nipple. "L-Levi, what's with the change of pace today?" Shower sex was something you and Levi frequently engaged in. You loved it when Levi took you hard and fast against the wall, feeling water from the showerhead flow down your body. You loved seeing your reflection in the mirror as Levi entered you from behind, your fucked out face in full glory as Levi pounded deep into you.

Instead of the usual hard and rough sex, Levi was being so gentle and slow today. When Levi's fingers left tender strokes on your increasingly wet cunt, it only fuelled your need and left you craving for more. As one finger entered you knuckle-deep, Levi's thumb maintained its pressure on your sensitive nub, circling it as he continued littering your skin with bite marks.

Levi pushed a second finger inside, still keeping his pace slow and steady. You found yourself grinding against his fingers, craving for faster and harder friction, craving for more. Levi knew you were needy for some action, but he refused to go faster. You groaned and started grinding harder, but Levi held your hip down.

"Shh, I wanna take my time with you today," Levi whispered by your earlobe, "let's take it slow." Levi turned your chin towards him and landed his lips on yours, sucking gently on your lower lip. You gasped and Levi's tongue sought yours while his fingers continued messing with your sensitive clit. As your tongues intertwined, one of Levi's hands massaged your breast while the other remained at their position. Your hand went to his dick, stroking the hard muscle up and down.

You broke the kiss as Levi's fingers started scissoring your insides. Although the slower foreplay was new to you, you realised how much you actually liked it. You loved the slower buildup which made you crave for more. You enjoyed hearing how different your moans and pants sounded when Levi went slow, instead of the fast pumping you liked him to do. You let out another whine, feeling excitement pool in your belly. Sensing you were wet enough, Levi landed his lips on yours once more, this time with a little more urgency. Levi pinned you against the wall, cupping his hands under your ass to lift you up. While the both of you continued to tongue fuck, Levi prodded your entrance with his dick before slowly entering you in one swift motion. He hugged you close, feeling your walls contract with every inch of his dick entering. Your ankles were intertwined around his waist, keeping Levi close. Once he was fully in, Levi kissed you slowly from your jaw up to the shell of your ear.

"So wet for me," Levi whispered as his grip on your ass tightened. You could feel him inching out bit by bit before slowly entering you again. Your hands interlocked behind Levi's neck, desperate to hold and touch him. With your back pressed firmly against the wall, Levi continued thrusting deep into you at a slow and steady pace while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

"I love you." Levi kissed your lips again and again, thrusting deep inside and not letting go. With a final thrust, you let out a cry as the coil in your belly snapped, your hips grinding against Levi. Levi joined you within a few moments, coating your walls white. Warm sticky essence flowed out of your cavern and dripped down your thigh as Levi pulled out and set you down. Levi brought down the shower head and washed you clean.

"What a good girl you are, taking me in so well"—he kissed your clavicle and goosebumps started dancing across your skin—"you're doing so good"—as his lips travelled to your neck. You felt the knot in your belly tighten as Levi kissed you there and then, not forgetting to leave a hickey as proof of action.

"You're so perfect for me"—his lips went to your breast, licking and sucking on the sensitive bud. You moaned in delight, smiling at how good you felt. You were over the roof, the knot getting tighter, the euphoria approaching. Levi sensed your walls contracting, and sped up just a little. Every time his dick brushed past your sensitive spot, you let out a whine. And every time you let out a whine, Levi kissed your lips.

"Feeling good?" Levi questioned as he lathered your body with your favourite body wash. You nodded in delight, the afterglow of your love making evident on your smiling face. Levi washed off the suds and began lathering shampoo into your hair. You held on to Levi's hand and looked at him with wide eyes.

"Can we do it again, but on the bed this time?" You giggled. The bathtub isn't exactly the most romantic and conducive place to have sex anyway. Levi merely chuckled and told you to close your eyes as he washed the soap off you.

"Whatever my baby girl wants, whatever she gets."

Tagging: @thehouseofmaple @ack3rlady @levi-lover @hauntedhousecat @leviswhorewifex @venusackerman @notgoodforlife @starstruckkittensweets @axoxtxhxh @killerskillercaptain @roralore @imkumichan @kristinecharmm @jean-prettyboy-kirschtein @michiboo @sweet-assh0le @hannie2kay @deludedimagines @ack3rlevi @ackermandick @lavenderdaisyhoney

Event masterlist | Event taglist | Rei's taglist

[sukirichi]

reckless [01.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. explicit smut, accidental pregnancy, playboy! gojo, slight angst

✘ note. dedicated to wifey @7tsumurai​ who also made the banner and always supports me and showers me with love aaaa i love you baby <3 also this fic is mostly romance and fluff so i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! thank you to @chosonore​ for pr-ing UWU. and we get like...10-15 chapters of this?!

one  ✘  two  ✘  three

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The night was young; streaks of gold flashing with the shimmering jewellery collared on your neck, the romantic humming of the violins pairing perfectly with the champagne that fizzed in your hand. It was supposed to be another day at work where you accompanied your boss to one of his events, considering the Casanova refused to bring his girlfriends in fear they might get the wrong idea he liked them outside the bed. It should be just another day at work; you’ve accompanied him hundreds of times before. Today wasn’t any different.

And yet it was.

You blamed it on the alcohol. On the slow dancing. On the fact he hadn’t stopped complimenting you all night and you’d been so stressed, the amount of planning and sleepless nights sacrificed in exchange of preparing for this event made you grab for three more flutes, the touch of your undeniable attractive boss permanent on your waist.

Satoru was equally aggravated. You’d worked him long enough to recognize even the smallest of cues, and the fact you’d spend nearly every hour of the day working with him for weeks straight in the office let you know he needed to let off some steam.

And what better way to relieve both of your tensions if not to give in to the cloud of lust?

The sultry gazes, the clashing perfumes between rose and musk, and the alcohol – the fucking alcohol – that gave way to you succumbing to your desire just this once.

There were no more thoughts – or if there were, they were muddled – as you kissed him back just as passionately, forgetting the fact his stylist spent an hour gelling his hair back to perfection as your eager fingers traced over his scalp. How you ended up in the back of limousine was beyond you, and neither was it your biggest concern when Satoru insisted you kept your heels on; his large hands caressing all the way from the ankle pressed beside his waist up to your waist.

You felt his daft fingers move the lacy thong you wore especially for tonight (not because you expected something, but the boost in confidence felt necessary) before he slides inside almost too easily.

Both your gasps and moans are swallowed in the stuffy compartment, windows fogged saved for the handprint you’d left when he hit a sensitive spot. He was moaning in your neck, skin slippery and sweaty as you slid from one another, seemingly never staying from one place as your hands treaded through his hair down to rake your nails on his back; his touch angry on your hips before his thumb found home in your clit.

As much as you hated him, hated his reputation, you couldn’t deny he really earned his title for being an absolute god in sex. You were no virgin, but you’d never felt this good, never felt this alive as bruises began to form in your skin and his lips hungrily sought out yours.

“S-Sir...”

“Satoru,” he corrected through your lips, the kiss barely even one when you were too busy moaning left and right. Satoru hitched your leg up to fold it right beside your waist, allowing him to explore deeper territories that not even you could mark.

His stare on you is perverted; openly wanton as he lets his empyrean gaze snake down to where your bodies connected. It was embarrassing to be this spread wide open for him, though it didn’t matter much, not when you clutched onto his bicep for dear life and panted breathlessly. He was kissing you everywhere – smearing your lipstick all over your lips and his, a stain of red on his hard, white collar and love bites marked deep into your collarbones and under your breasts. You tightened around him once he changed his rhythm into a more sensual one; the quick pace replaced with him pulling out slowly – inch by delicious inch until you felt empty with each growing second – before slamming back inside with fervidity that he never quite possessed behind his desk.

He groaned at your walls clenching down on him, his hips stuttering in the process. “Call me Satoru.”

“Satoru,” you moaned out, and his next sounds were pained. Pained because you sounded too gorgeous, felt too good, and with you following his hips thrust by thrust, neither of you would last any longer. Not even as you shake your head, lips swollen as you remind him, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed with a curled lip, sweat beading from the streaks of his white hair. “But I want you – god, you’re so beautiful tonight. Need to fuck you good—”

Gojo Satoru, one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South East Asia and ranked as the second richest man in his early twenties, was a man of his word despite his reputation. Just as he was praised and fawned over for his beauty, charisma, and power, he was equally hated for breaking the hearts of women and treating his past ‘lovers’ like they were objects. The news were so confident of it; that he fooled them, played around with them, but behind the scenes, you knew Satoru wouldn’t do such a thing – from the first time he laid his eyes on someone, he made it extremely clear they were not to be attached. Everything with him was physical and sensual – anything beyond that would simply be out of character.

You weren’t surprised that he really did keep his word and fuck you good, because you couldn’t feel your legs the next morning and even though it had been hours, you still very much felt the shape of him carve through you.

The bastard wouldn’t stop laughing, of course, snickering under his breath every now and then each time he saw you grimace from doing simple things such as standing up and giving him the files he asked for. Perhaps it was because your dislike for him was apparent that Satoru quickly went back to fooling around, pretending you didn’t exist and only approaching you when need be. There were still moments you had to clean his mess up for him; taking his drunken phone calls at 3am because he got wasted in a bar, or doing the same for his current sex buddy who he didn’t want to stay in his home.

He was terrible, terribly awful that you despised this part of him.

You were only grateful enough that neither of you brought that night up ever again, for no matter how immensely hellish of an experience it had been, it was also something you’d really rather not be reminded of.

But now, there was no more running away from it. The truth stared at you blatantly in the form of two white lines that had appeared four times already from previous tests.

You were pregnant.

The world had never been that heavy on you. You had a rough upbringing, but it was a household filled with love and patience that it was innate in your nature to keep strong, be levelled, continue moving forward even during the times it felt like everyone and everything was going against you. You’d been through so much worse and you can do this, but you still couldn’t stop the tears that pushed from your eyes, your heart shattering the same time you dropped the stick.

“No, we won’t cry, it’s okay. I can handle this – I’m strong,” you repeated to yourself like a mantra, taking deep breaths to stabilize yourself. Clearly, this was unexpected, but you wanted to do your best, had to do your best. You didn’t have time to lose your composure, so you quickly fished your phone out your purse to dial the person you trusted the most.

“Rei...?”

Your best friend picked up on the second dial. “Sweetheart, where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for like hours now and you’re not picking up, I heard you called in sick for work and you never do that even when you’re about to pass out!” Some shuffling could be heard from the background before she spoke again, her tone a lot more gentle in response to your muted sniffles. “Is there something going on? Do you need me to drop by there right now? Tell me what you need; I’ll be there right away.”

“No, no, Rei, it’s fine, I just...”

“Sweetie,” she sighed, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

You nodded even though she couldn’t see it. Rei had been there for you in everything, starting from when you newly arrived in the city; fresh-eyed and hopeful for new opportunities. She’d been there when you first complained your boss was a creepy flirt, all the way until you’d made peace with said boss and remained firm in your boundaries. But those boundaries had clearly been crossed – no, rather, you erased those boundaries. You were drunk enough to give in to the need to be touched, but sober enough to consent to everything that happened. You couldn’t place this all on him.

“I’m pregnant,” you said eventually, voice barely above a whisper as you added, “And Satoru’s the father.”

Rei stopped munching on her – you assume – bagel.

“Satoru? Gojo Satoru, your boss, bonafide casanova, the face on billboards and one of the most “eligible” bachelors in the country, billionaire Gojo Satoru?” she let out in one breath, the image of her flipping her hand out in the air in disbelief as clear as day. “Am I really hearing this right? I’m not going crazy, am I?”

You sighed.

“We were drunk. I slept with him.”

“Did that bastard force himself on you?”

“No, gosh, never,” you defended with widened eyes, sitting back down on the toilet with the lid now closed. You couldn’t look at the tests even if you dared yourself to, the plastic bag concealed in the garbage or else you’d feel sick all over again. “I-I wanted it too...we just got carried away and the night was just...I don’t know. I don’t know what came over me and why I did that, but there’s no point in fretting about it because I’m carrying his baby now.”

“Well,” she started unsurely, “What are you going to do?”

“I’m keeping it. There’s no way I would even consider abortion.”

“But what about him?”

The back of your head throbbed in pain. Just thinking about his stupidly handsome face made you want to throw up once more. “I don’t really want to tell him, but he has a right to know that he’s going to be a father.”

“Will he even take responsibility for it?”

You swallowed nervously, nibbling on your thumbnails before snatching your hand away. Composure was something you didn’t struggle with; you were the more reliable one in the duo of you and Satoru, but you had a bad habit of picking on your nails whenever you were anxious. Had it not been for Satoru flicking your nails away from your mouth each time you dazed out a little bit, you would’ve never gotten rid of the habit, but it all came crashing back down on you in an instant.

A heavy knot formed in your belly.

“Most likely not, I know how he’s like. He loves his single life so much that he’d never allow to be tied down like this. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he tells me he doesn’t want it.”

“What an asshole!”

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t need him in my life,” you reinstated, finally feeling more confident the longer you talked to Rei. She was your instant hype machine in more ways than one; her presence itself gave you the reassurance you could handle everything your way. With hope blooming in your chest, you picked yourself of the toilet and wiped away your tears. You could do this – you can handle this. Not just for you, but this baby growing in you as well.

“In our life. I’m more than capable of taking care of the baby myself,” you told her, gaze hard and determined as your sunken reflection stared back at you in the mirror. Sighing, you shook your head and pictured Satoru’s face, already picturing a thousand ways this could go wrong. Only one way to find out.

“I have to go now. He needs to hear about this and then I’ll resign. Probably move back home – anywhere that’s away from him.”

“Doesn’t the baby deserve to meet their dad?”

“Their dad doesn’t even want to be one,” you muttered bitterly and threw your sweater back on, refusing to kick yourself around any harder. Now wasn’t the time to be illogical; you were now a mother and had to be responsible now more than ever. But first, you needed some well-deserved rest after endless agonizing of missing your period, along with the baby drop that until now, had shook you to your core. “I’ll call you back, Rei. I’m very tired.”

“You let me know if you need anything, okay?” Humming in response, you ended the call and crawled back to bed.

It wasn’t that you felt lonely, but you didn’t feel particularly belonging anywhere. You were far from home in a city that felt like the future, and each day you come home, it was mostly just a place to rest before you went back to work the next day. It was a dull, empty routine that you’d gotten used to, but never had it sunk deep into you that you did felt completely hollow.

But not anymore.

You were with your baby now, and as much as it scared you shitless to be a mother with zero preparation and knowledge, you were confident things were going to be okay.

Wrapping an arm around your belly, you had the best sleep you’d had in years.

You’d just have to worry about tomorrow. Hopefully, and you quite prayed harder than you ever did before, Satoru would let you go and keep things less complicated than it already was.

“No,” Satoru shook his head, his words dropping like a heavy boulder in the middle of nowhere. You stood in front of him shock still, hands wrung solid beneath your belly. Satoru merely shook his head, brushing back his gelled hair with a dry laugh. “No, what are you even thinking? You’re not resigning.”

You pursed your lips. “I wasn’t really asking for permission, Sir.”

Truth be told, you expected this sort of reaction from him. It may be true that you and Satoru never got along in personal levels since he was too crass and you much stiff, but it couldn’t be denied you worked well together. You balanced each other’s flaws and brought out the best in one another. If someone had asked you years ago prior to you being employed by the heir if you could even tame the renowned free spirited man, you would’ve said probably not, but after sharing struggles and quite literally forcing one another to do better, you both reached highs neither expected to achieve.

It was an experience and a whole lot lessons learned working with him.

Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and you had to leave even if Satoru negated to it.

“We’ve been working together for years. Do you know how many people I fired and have resigned all because they’re not equipped for the job?” he plopped down atop his desk, loosening his tie out of frustration. The simple gesture made you swallow and look away – it felt impossible to look at him any other way than a boss now that you had his baby inside you. Thankfully, Satoru was mouthy as usual that he pulled you back from your train of thoughts as he gestured between the both of you. “You and I are perfectly compatible – I can’t let you go like that. I’m sorry, but I need you. There’s no one else I can work with this functionally. No one else is as willing to tolerate my bullshit except you and...I need you to stay.”

You clenched your teeth at the desperation in his voice.

Satoru admitting he needed people was one thing. But him asking others to stay? It may have just been for your value as the only person who had put up with him in both his best and worst times that made him feel that way, but you had to keep your foot down on the ground.

You wouldn’t let him sway you like this.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and willed all your energy to spring forth. “Sir...I’m more than thankful for all the opportunities, it truly was a pleasure working with you but—”

“Is this because we slept together?” he cut you off, your shoulders tensing. Upon your silence, Satoru heaved himself away from the desk and took cautious step towards you, stopping a foot away when you stepped back defensively.

You almost wished you didn’t know him so well. His eyes shone with a flicker of hurt before he masked it just as quick as it had came – for Gojo Satoru was a master of many things, and a great actor was one of them. Cautious, you had to be cautious, and you clenched your fists behind your pencil skirt as you tore your gaze away from his pleading ones. “It is, isn’t it?” he affirmed with a clear of his throat, looking just as lost as you did. Satoru stuttered for a minute before he eventually composed himself, but even then, he didn’t sound half as sure as he wanted to be.

“Listen, whatever happened that night, we can forget about it if you want. We’re both adults and professionals – we can put this aside us and just go back to normal. You don’t have feelings for me, right? So then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Satoru...it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded, aggravated. Satoru began to round his desk and pulling out little white envelopes, stacking them before you in a haste. “Do you want a pay raise? A new car so you could get to work easily? O-or perhaps a bigger house where you can work more comfortably, somewhere nearer to the office? All you have to do is tell me and I’ll give you what you want. There’s no need for you to resign, this company has given you everything and we’ve got so much offer just as you could still be great—”

“I’m pregnant.”

Satoru’s slender fingers halted around the pen hovering over a cheque slip. “What?”

“I said I’m pregnant,” you exhaled, biting down on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from quivering. A quick sweep from your face to gather sincerity trailed down to your belly, staring at you hard enough as if he had the ability to look through your soul. “And you’re the father.”

“Is that true? Is...is it really mine?”

“Yes sir,” you nodded, “I’m not telling you this because I expect that you’ll be responsible for it. No offense, sir, but I’d really rather raise the baby alone. Plus, I understand that you’ll never settle down or suddenly abandon your old ways just to—”

“Stop right there,” he raised a palm, “You mean to tell me you’re resigning because you thought I wouldn’t take responsibility for it? For you?”

The hurt in his voice and expressions were evident, lip curled in disgust; not for you, but rather of himself. Satoru was the type of man that couldn’t be withered down even with the harshest of rumours; you’d never seen him be affected before by tabloids and nasty ex-girlfriends who only slept with him for money or fame, only to talk smack about him afterwards. But now, he was crumbling before you, and you didn’t know quite what to say or feel over the vulnerability present in his cerulean eyes. It almost pained you know that you caused this – for the comforting, blue sky to be tainted with a thunderstorm that hinted of anger, of disappointment, of betrayal.

But could he blame you for not thinking the best of him?

“I’ve worked with you for years, sir, I know you.”

“Clearly not well enough,” he chuckled sarcastically, “Admittedly, I’m surprised, but not upset. The only thing that I’m upset about is that you actually believed it would be better to raise the baby – our baby – alone like I don’t even have a right to be in their life. Sure, it was an accident, but we made that. That’s our child and I’m going to take care of you and be a great father, even if you don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Sir, I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the first time you said something stupid. That’s our baby. We’re a family now,” Satoru’s hesitance had vanished into thin air as he was on you the next instant, hands shaky before they landed on your shoulders. It was meant to be a comforting gesture; a reassuring one, yet you couldn’t help but flinch and falter under his gaze. As if getting the message, he quickly retracted his hands and shoved them deep inside his pockets with a sigh. “You don’t need to resign or worry about anything else. I promise I’ll give you both the life you deserve, just...just please don’t go. Now that I know we have a baby, there’s just no way I can let go of this and pretend I never heard of this at all.”

You swallowed, rubbing your sweaty palms on your skirt.

Out of all the different scenarios you stayed up late at night to turning your head in one by one, none of them included this. Undeniably, he was an asshole to most, but maybe he was right.

He hadn’t done anything wrong to you and he was still the father of your baby; he deserved a chance. Satoru had the right to be the father he was willing to be. You could already tell this might completely turn into one big mess, but his eyes were so hopeful, his smile so nervous yet expectant that you couldn’t help but say –

“Okay,” you relented.

His reaction was instantaneous. Satoru beamed and lounged at you, arms wide open for an embrace before realizing at the last second you could stab him with a pen and not regret it. One warning glare sent his way and he was retracing his arm behind his head, pretending to stretch with an off-tune whistle.

The sudden switch between pained and enthusiastic gave you whiplash, but you really shouldn’t be surprised. This was Gojo Satoru in the first place – he was as unpredictable as nothing was permanent and lasting to him.

It could be both a blessing and a curse.

For the sake of your baby, you genuinely hoped it was the former.

Not wanting him to get too ahead of himself since you still didn’t trust him enough, you raised a finger to poke him in the chest. Right now, you were no longer his secretary that openly despised him but added six sugar cubes in his coffee just as he liked anyway, but rather a woman who shared this mess with him, and as the mother of his child. You had to be strong. Being with Satoru felt like playing with fire, and you had far too much at stake – both of you did – but you weren’t privileged and fortunate like Satoru. One bad thing thrown his way could be brushed off, but for you? Everything you worked hard for could disappear just like that.

If you really chose now to play with fire, you had to be careful not to be the gasoline that ignited things to burn down into ashes.

“Satoru,” you stressed with your lips pressed into a thin line, “The only thing I expect from you is to be is a good father to our child. I know that it would be difficult for you to be a new person in a day and that your old habits won’t die right away, so please do what you can to be a good parent, and I’ll be with you every step of the way. I promise you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your life as well.”

His smile slowly vanished.

“Is that how low you really think of me?” he echoed rather sadly, “That I would still sleep around knowing I’ve got a family now?”

“We’re not a family, Sir. I have no intentions of marrying you nor would I ever want it. I’m just staying for the baby.”

“Fine. For the baby, let’s both do our best,” he crossed his arms on his chest, pumping out the hard muscles from how tight his shirt was. You were stuck between wanting to slap him or be closer to him; the hormones too much of a mess that you had to grip your thigh for restraint. “But tomorrow, you’re moving in with me. I’m going to take care of you from now on – I’ll get you whatever you need so whatever it is, just tell me. My credit card is yours to use as well.”

Move in with him? You wanted to laugh. That was the last thing you would want to happen.

“Sir, it’s fine, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t, but I want to take care of you both,” he reiterated, growing slightly annoyed from your rigidness. You professed that you were being difficult right now, but it was much better than being easy around someone like him.

“We don’t have to be friends or lovers, alright? I know you don’t see me that way and I’m probably repulsive in your eyes – which is understandable since you always clean my mess up for me – but as a father, at least, let me do my job. There doesn’t have to be anything between us other than a mutual want to be good parents. Is that alright with you?”

You mulled the thought over in your head. So he was capable of being sensible sometimes, and after a few moments of silence, you narrowed your eyes at him.

Still suspicious and your guard was most definitely still up, but he was right. You both had a mutual want to be good parents and that was the most important thing right now. Everything else that complicated matters would be handled afterwards.

“I’m okay with that, but I would have to set down lots of boundaries if I’m living with you.”

“So you’ll really stay with me then?” You regretted nodding in response because Satoru was now fishing his phone out, a goofy smile on his face.

He took the news...surprisingly well, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Perfect! I’ll have your room prepared!” You tried to grab his arm to stop him from going overboard; knowing full well Satoru always had rushes in which he impulsively overdoes things. He might turn your room into some sort of grand suite that you wouldn’t really like, but he was far too excited and lost in his own thoughts that your words went from one ear and out the other. “Fuck,” he laughed to himself, “I’m going to be a dad.”

Whether it was relief or anxiety that bubbled through you, you had no idea.

It was definitely anxiety.

Satoru felt like a hyper child to be around, and as much as you were grateful that he was happy about this, you also wished he would calm down. You didn’t even have enough chance to settle in before he’s shoving you inside room by room, announcing that what was his was also yours and he would have a baby room set up next week.

You followed him around like a puppy as he marched into the kitchen, mumbling incoherently to himself about baby proofing furniture.

“Sir,” you called out, “Sir, listen to me. We need to talk about boundaries.”

Satoru blinked owlishly at your tired eyes, sheepishly smiling at you. It must’ve dawned on him that his speed tour of his penthouse felt a lot more overwhelming than welcoming, and he sat you down on the island stools before drumming his fingers impatiently on the cool marble. “Sorry, you were saying? I kind of got carried away.”

Carried away was far an understatement.

“I said, we need to talk about boundaries.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” he paused with a furrow in his brow. “Also can you just call me Satoru? We’re going to be parents anyway and it’s awkward if you keep uh, calling me Sir.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes, not really in the mood to argue with him right now. You had to keep intact with him while you still had his full attention. Taking out a little notepad you prepared the night before, you slid it over Satoru who tilted his head to the side rather cutely to read it. “So here are my boundaries. One, I don’t want this pregnancy to be announced in the media unless I’m ready. I understand that we can’t keep this a secret forever but I need time to process this. Two, just because we’re living in the same roof together doesn’t mean that I get to go anywhere and everywhere with you. I’m going to work by myself—”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“I said no,” he repeated more firmly this time. “You’re pregnant and I want to make sure you’re safe at all times. I’m driving you to work.”

“Didn’t you just hear what I said? I don’t want to be seen with you.”

“You’re my secretary. People see us together all the time.”

“But you never drove me to work! I live far from the office and I most definitely don’t drive an Audi.”

“Things change, that’s your life now,” Satoru shrugged nonchalantly, stealing the pen you twirled in your hands. The sudden contact sent jolts of electricity from your knuckles, one that had you recanting your hands back to yourself. Satoru didn’t seem to notice as he crosses out the second rule, “Sorry not sorry but I don’t want to let you go places like that. Fine by me if you don’t want me to drive you, but at least have one of the chauffeurs take you somewhere if you really don’t wanna be seen with me.”

“Fine,” you gritted your teeth. Compromise, compromise, meet in the middle – you repeated to yourself to keep your sanity. “Rule number three: I don’t want you changing your attitude around me. We may have a baby on the way, but you’re still my boss and I want to keep our relationship professional.”

“You’re saying I’m not allowed to fall in love with you?”

You flicked his forehead, effectively erasing the teasing grin he wore. “That’s not going to happen,” you interjected irritably, although your heart skip a beat. That was a massive red flag already; you could never be too comfortable with him. For Satoru, his little comments here and there may come naturally and probably meant nothing to him, but there was a chance you could receive it with different interpretations. Shaking your head at him, you ignored his grumblings on how ‘mean’ you were. “We’re never going to be a couple. We’re just raising a child together. I don’t want you acting weird or too comfortable with me.”

Satoru scratched the side of his head as he mulled about it, “Are we allowed to be friends, at least? I understand the professional part, but I can’t imagine the both of us getting along for nine months and more when we act like boss and employee even alone at home,” before you could say anything, Satoru raised his hands in surrender. “I promise I won’t do anything weird to you. No offense, but you’re not really my type, so same as you, I view you platonically.”

Right. The heart surely was stupid and confusing.

You didn’t want him getting any ideas that this could lead to something more, but at the same time, it hurt a little to know you weren’t his type.

Hiding that pang of hurt behind a tight lipped smile, you forced yourself to agree with him. “I view you professionally, Sir.”

“Satoru.”

“Whatever,” you grumbled. “Rule number four: don’t bring home any of your fuck buddies or flavour of the night. I really don’t care if you sleep around, but respect my privacy and my standing as the mother of your childIf you’re really desperate to get your dick wet, go fuck them somewhere else.”

“You’ve never been this vulgar with me.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. Despite countless of times that he tried being friendly with you to ease your stiffness in the office, you always shot him down.

You came to the city to work and provide for your family, not to be friends with your annoyingly hot boss who enjoyed his life way too much. Unlike him, you were more work than play, and eventually Satoru respected the fact you would never speak or treat him casually.

Until now.

“Try being in my shoes and see if you’d still have the patience of a saint,” you mumbled under your breath, sighing when Satoru’s smile got more awkward. “Listen, Satoru, I don’t mean to be difficult, okay? It’s just...this is a lot. This isn’t just us about anymore – we’re going to be parents and that’s a huge responsibility. It’s not only our lives changing here, a child will be relying on us in the future and I simply want to be a good mother, but I also don’t trust you very well to be comfortable enough to act like we’re suddenly friends.”

“I understand that.”

“Good.”

“Do you have rule number five?”

“No, not really, but I can add more as we go.”

“I have a rule number five,” he piped in, flipping the notepad his way as he scribbled something down. “And it’s that if you need help – and I mean with anything – you would let me help you. I’ve worked with you for a long time and I’m not dumb enough to not notice you like to do things by yourself. Like you said, things are different now, and especially with this pregnancy, you’re not alone in this. You need to let me take over the wheel sometimes. I can’t be just a passenger in the car – you and I are both in this together.”

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

“That’s easy,” he chirped, and there was that uncomfortable knot in your chest again. However, it didn’t sink in too deep because Satoru was blatantly staring at your belly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So do we have a name for them already?”

“Satoru, I’ve only been a few weeks pregnant, I don’t—”

Conflicting his previous statement that he’d keep his hands to himself, Satoru suddenly dropped to his knees. You watched with wide eyes, too flabbergasted to move as he places his ear on your belly.

“Hi there, little one,” he spoke in a soft tone, large hands caressing the tiny bump beginning to form. You couldn’t move; hell, you could barely breathe from how comforting his touch seemed in contrast to your mind ringing warning bells above. His voice quickly pulled you back to reality as he flattened his palm, white lashes fluttering against the cotton of your shirt. “I’m your daddy; I can’t wait to meet you. Daddy promises to take good care of you and make you the happiest kid ever, alright? You don’t have to worry about anything as long as I’m here.”

“D-don’t spoil them too much, Satoru.”

“I’ll try not to,” he chuckled. Satisfied with that small moment he had, he straightened up and trudged over the dining table that was far too big for a man who lived alone. In that moment, an image flashed in your mind – that someday that table would no longer look empty as you and your child shared meals with him. You could already imagine how heavenly the sun would shine on the glass windows behind it, the flowers gathered in the middle of the table blooming to life.

Out of nowhere, it struck you.

Could it be that this was why he loved this baby so much after only knowing about it for a few days? Could it be that Satoru really was alone?

“Okay, we should probably have a welcoming dinner! The chefs left me something tonight. I forgot what it’s called but I think you’ll like it. Grab some wine on the cellar for me?”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, right! My bad,” he clapped his hands together before pulling out ceramics and a cold pitcher, “Just water for mommy then,” Satoru said absentmindedly, completely oblivious to how your mind short-circuited a few feet away from him. He went about his way ignorant to it all and gently tugged you to sit with him, eagerly digging into the heated meals as you realized both of you hadn’t eaten.

For a guy who talked a lot, dinner with him was surprisingly quiet. Other than the occasional clinking of utensils against the plate, you enjoyed the silence with him.

You wouldn’t have believed it to be possible since Satoru made it his daily business to always fill in the gaps. Peace and comfort stretched before you the whole time, however, that for a moment, just a short moment, you found yourself letting your guard down. Even when you both caught each other’s in the middle of a bite, you found no tension or awkwardness in it. Perhaps it was the familiarity of being beside each other for years now that this should feel natural, or maybe it was because you both mutually agreed on wanting the best for your baby. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to overcomplicate it right now.

“You know, I’m really excited about this. I can’t believe I’m actually going to be a father,” he mused through a bite, swirling his red wine through his glass. Satoru gazed at his reflection almost dreamily, seemingly too deep in thought that he felt far from reach.

Or maybe you were the one who was detached, the one who kept pushing him away, because you could offer him nothing but a lame nod. “I’m glad to hear that...”

“What about you? You don’t look too happy.”

Your eyes widened at his worry. “No, I-I’m happy, of course. It’s just...it’s unplanned, and I’ve had my whole life planned out that I’m not really sure how this will all fall into place together.”

“Hey,” he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing warmth back into your skin that you hadn’t noticed turned cold from the nerves. Unlike his usual self with eyes brimming with glee, you could only see tenderness in him now, some sort of silent vow through a private smile shared only between the two of you in that moment in the solace of his home. Your home. “I promise I’ll be there for you and the baby every step of the way. I know that I haven’t had the best reputation and I have zero idea on parenting, but you’re not alone in this. You can trust me on this one, just like how we always trusted each other during work. Being a parent and running a business are both responsibilities right?”

“Yeah...”

“Well then you already know we work well together. We’re great partners!” he cheered, patting your shoulder way too bro-like. You resisted the urge to cringe. “We’ll be great parents, Y/N. I’m sure of that.”

Unsure of what else to do, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, you would be great parents as long as both of you never gave up. The thought of eating meals with him again with another addition to the table made you smile, and you hadn’t noticed you were spacing out, thumb running over his knuckles that were smooth for a man who never knew a day of hard labour. It wasn’t until you felt something prodding at you metaphorically, and you chuckled nervously as you saw Satoru smiling mysteriously at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “I’ve just never seen you this close before; not so much that I paid attention anyway. But this is nice – having you here, I mean. It gets lonely here sometimes.”

“Don’t you bring your girlfriends around?”

“I never make them stay,” was all he said, and just like that, whatever thread that was beginning to form snapped. Satoru released his hold on you and gestured to your plate, carrying the dishes in his hand before leaving you alone on the table. Like always – a whiplash. “I’ll clean up, you can rest in your room now. I’ll take care of the dishes.”

“Do you even know how to do them?”

“Yeah, my mother forced me to wash dishes because she didn’t want me to rely on the house help too much,” he informed, the new information shocking you right to the core as he put on dishwashing gloves and started scrubbing. From this angle, he sure looked damn nice and domestic in just a white shirt, hair ruffled down to bangs.  “I’ll be right there with you,” Satoru announces casually, spinning on his heel with red cheeks once he realized what he said. “For just a goodnight, I mean! We’re not sharing rooms!”

“Yeah, no,” you coughed out, “We’re definitely not.”

It felt…surreal, to wake up in a room much grandiose than yours yet felt like home even for the first night. Satoru handled your moving in rather happily; you found him singing to himself this morning as he brewed his own coffee before realizing you were right behind him, sleepy as you lazily made waffles for the both of you. Everything flowed nicely and normally, like this had always been a normal thing that for a moment, you questioned once more what would happen next.

You were now getting ready for work, hands tugging at his tie because he was such a man-child who couldn’t even properly knot his own tie. His suit was custom tailored and he looked effortlessly gorgeous – beauty ripped straight from magazines he was constantly a front page of, but his tie was skewered and loose that it irritated you.

“You’re such a mess without me.”

Satoru bent down to wiggle his brows at you, thought you didn’t notice because he wouldn’t stay still for you to fix his tie fast enough. “Isn’t this sweet; you fixing my tie for me as we both get ready for work?” he teased, “We’re like a married couple already.”

“If you don’t shut up, I’m kicking you in the nuts.”

“Then how can I give you more babies?” picking up the newspaper on the coffee table beside you, you rolled it and started whacking him, a string of profanities colorfully painting his otherwise monochrome and sleek walls. Satoru’s laughter boomed all over the room even as he wiggled away from you, clutching his bicep that had been the victim of your abuse. “Ow, ow, I was joking! Jeez, woman, you are strong. Fight men a lot like this?”

“I work with you. My fighting instincts are always activated.”

His laugh really was annoying. But it did help ease your nerves – though you’d never tell him that – as you sat beside him in his car, the expensive leather seats no longer strange to you. It would’ve felt like any other day where you accompanied him somewhere, except the reason was different now, and it came crashing down on you of your current situation that things were undeniably different from now on.

You immediately stepped away from him the moment you got out of the car, clutching your clipboard to your tummy when Satoru bumped his shoulder with yours. “Come closer, it’s fine. No one will suspect a thing,” he points to the crowded building with people bumping and walking past each other, everyone too occupied in their own heads to even notice you.

It wasn’t much, but hearing his voice and reassurances relaxed you, even for just a little bit. Maybe your first day at work after the baby news wouldn’t be so bad, after all, but it seemed you had spoken too early.

Satoru heavily insisted that you worked inside his office from now on.

Your desk was located right outside his office, the phone line always within reach in case you needed to pass calls to him or if he needed you to come. Satoru preferred the privacy of his own space – or so he said; he actually just didn’t want you to witness him slacking around and experience your wrath – but now he was dragging you inside his office, pushing your shoulders down until you were ‘settled in.’

You didn’t even want to ask where he got a new desk from, or why it had to be right across from him. His desk remained elevated on a few levels, the welcoming lobby of the room filled with couches and stacks of coffee with a rich amount of sugar cubes.

Safe to say, most of the morning was spent (or rather, wasted) on you telling Satoru off. The man was too persistent, coming in on the office at random times of the hour with either snacks or heaps of biscuits on his arms. He always greeted you with a wide grin on his face, only to be kicked out of his own office because you had his hellish schedule and events to deal with. That was around three hours ago when you’d asked him to shut up and go bother someone else. You were halfway around finishing your workload for today when the door swung open, a tuft of white hair and mischievous eyes peeking through.

“Hey! Just checking in on mommy—”

“Satoru!”

“What? It’s just you and I,” he defended with a shrug, welcoming himself inside. Surprisingly, he was empty handed, though the pout on his lips told you it was against his will. “Seriously though, do you need anything? Do you want snacks? Tea? Do you need help going to the bathroom? You haven’t moved in your desk for an hour now.”

“Satoru, I’m pregnant, not disabled,” you ignored him for a while, resuming to working back on his schedule for the month. There were a bunch of e-mails you still had to respond to, which normally wouldn’t be such a daunting task if Satoru wasn’t shifting his weight from one foot to another, the sounds of his shoes hitting the tiles in an annoying click-clack rhythm getting to you. “Will you stop fidgeting! Your anxiety gives me anxiety, stop that!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I just feel like there’s something I should be doing.”

“Shutting up and letting me work in peace would be great, thank you.”

“You really don’t need anything?” Sending him a warning glare, Satoru sucked in his cheeks and ran back to his desk where he hid behind the safety of his large monitor. “Nope, yeah, I got the message: leave you alone. Good luck with that then, I’ll need those archives to pull up for our meeting with the directors later at five.”

Muttering a sarcastic finally under your breath, you resumed working.

The routine was per usual – answer the calls professionally with a welcoming and sweet voice, a pen always in one hand to jot down notes in reminders, adjust his schedules, work out his plans, go to him whenever he needed to sign something before responding back to e-mails. You were focused as you always were, but someone wasn’t, and it was getting harder and harder to keep being placated.

It didn’t help that he made no effort to hide the fact he was slacking off, the tip-taps of him randomly pressing keys on the keyboard similar to a fork dragging down a plate.

“I can feel you burning holes at the back of my head,” you twittered, “What do you need?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just realizing how beautiful you are right now.”

You paused. Unable to deny your curiosity over how serious he sounded, you spun around in your swivel chair. Satoru had his chin on his hands as he stared right back at you, his face devoid of expression that you couldn’t pick up on a single clue. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You rolled your eyes at him. Of course the bastard would be teasing you, his loud chuckles a painful reminder of that. It was best to ignore him, so you went back to reading e-mails and forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. “We’re at work. Please stop distracting me; I can’t focus when you’re staring at me like a creep.”

“Sorry, babe, I’ll try to be less distracting next time, though I can’t control my charisma, you know!”

You jotted your thumb to your desk outside, “I can walk back to my desk where you can’t see me. That’d be a great for both of us.”

“Stay right there, I was joking!”

“Do you promise to be quiet and actually do your job if I stay?”

“With you disciplining and ordering me around like that, why not?” Mouth open for another heated retort, Satoru stopped you before you could say anything, his aura more serious this time. He was always like this; fooling around and maturing the next second, only for the cycle to repeat and test your patience. “I’m just teasing you, Y/N, I’ll shut up now. You’re free to end work as soon as you’re tired though; the driver is waiting in the parking lot whenever you want to go home.”

“I’ll go home with you.” Home. It felt weird to say that, but also…natural.

“You’ll stay with me at work today?” He sounded genuinely surprised, and you responded with a one-shoulder shrug. That seemed to be enough for him, however, and it wasn’t long before Satoru found the oh so rare and fleeting motivation to work hard.

Once he was settled, sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms and brows furrowed as he centered all his attention on the pile of paperwork before him, there was no stopping him.

Roles reversed and positions switched, you were now the one unable to take your eyes off him.

In this light, in this moment, Gojo Satoru had never looked more beautiful. He was much the same as you in the manner you never really noticed each other this way before; not romantically, but even just person to person. In your eyes, he was nothing but your irritating boss whose boisterous self always crowded over your peace, and in his eyes, you were nothing but his secretary who he knew always silently hoped would leave you alone.

But things were different now. You were different now.

Boundaries there may be, you couldn’t help that fluttering forming in your stomach. Contentment, happiness, relief, nervousness – all of them jumbled into one big mess. Out of them all, however, there was most definitely adoration, either out of respect for his unexpected kindness, or simply because it felt nice to feel for once.

Turning away from him until your back was the only thing he could see, you hid your smile as you secretly held your belly.

You’d never been reckless before, but what was to be a good story when there wasn’t a mistake or two made?

[forcebewitht]

The Loving Curse Of A Wicked, Beautiful Queen Of Mean (Overblot!Vil Schoenheit X Reader)

(Fanart Link: https://twitter.com/mtzk00/status/1349799061218488322?s=19)

A sigh was all too quick to escape your lips as you observed the spectacle that was going on. You had been receiving bad vibes from Vil here and there for quite a bit now- and it was finally time. You just knew. Grim and yourself decided to hide behind a corner to spy on Vil. His body was honestly rather rigid...yet loose as he walked. Like a doll that had learned to walk and was preparing to swing out a long, thin arm at any moment. Vil delivered some swift knocks to Neige's door within the hallway of the backstage area of the arena currently being used for the VDC. You were quick to shush Grim and peer around the corner. Vil's expression was…void. Utterly barren of any and all emotion, as though the great star was finally beginning to dim out. Neige soon opened the door, and an exchange between the two was given. Vil had tried giving Neige some apple juice as a "gift"....that is, until Rook strided in on the scene. The sound of Rook calling Neige's name down the hall sent a shock through Grim, Vil, and even Neige himself. You noted that Vil's eyes grew a bit too large, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. "NEIGE!" Rook was quick to stride over. The gentle, sweet boy named Neige soon turned his head to Rook as he walked over. Rook smiled a bit at Neige as he approached, a faint dazzle being seen in his eyes simply by looking at the boy. "I am sorry to disturb you. One of the staff members is looking for you- they wished to ask you something about the performance. Roi Du Neige….-ah. I mean Neige." Neige peered curiously at Rook. He allowed his head to angle to the side, his skin as pale and precious as snow and his hair as black as the night sky itself. "Roi Du….the way you speak…..are you, perhaps…?" Rook suddenly was very quick to exclaim after Neige's odd observation. "A-AH! I apologize, I just simply am so thirsty after searching for you for such a long time! Ah…but that apple juice you are holding looks delicious. Care to help me out a bit and give it to me, Ro- ahem. Neige? Please?" Neige blinked numerous times, already handing the juice over as humbly asked. "Y-yes, of course! Not a problem at all! Here you go." You notice Vil's posture go even more rigid at the sight of this event. His eyes grew just a bit larger, and you could have sworn that you heard a suppressed grunt. Your eyebrows furrow. He…..he looked like a schemer who had just been caught...nay….a murderer who had just been caught in the act.

Rook beamed out a dazzling smile to Neige, now continuing on with the juice bottle in his gloved hands. "Ah….thank you, Neige. Now, run along to the stage. And….don't come back again." The sudden shift in Rook's tone took you a bit off guard, now watching him a bit more closely. Neige seemed just as confused, for he bats his eyelashes faintly, his already precious, large doe-like eyes widening just a bit. "...Eh? What do you m-mean by that…" After Neige's delayed question, Rook's body seemed to seize up. He suddenly shouted a bit right at the boy, and you could see his eyebrows furrowing under his bangs. "GO, NOW- HURRY UP!" Neige was quick to listen to the instructions and take off in a sudden sprint. Vil's eyes were locked on Neige as he ran away, now slowly fluttering over to Rook. His lavender eyes squint at his Vice Dorm Leader, the star seeming to back up a bit. "Rook….why…" The Vice, however, did not listen. He seemed to be sniffing the bottle's contents with a content smile, his emerald eyes shutting promptly. "Mmmmm~....what a fresh scent. I simply smelled this alluring beverage for a mere moment, and a delicious, prime, red apple just appeared within my very mind. This product from Epel's hometown is really wonderful!" Rook's eyes soon snapped open, the Vice locking eyes with Vil. He seemed to smile, but a dim in his eyes was evident as well. His tone suddenly became more dry yet heightened, as though a mere zombie under the whims and gaze of the Schoenheit male. "I'll drink all of this without sparing a single drop….Roi Du Poison…" Rook began to tilt the bottle up to his lips. Vil seemed to panic, his eyes widening even more as he rose a hand and backed up some more. You and Grim almost ran out, yet the voice of another stopped you both in your tracks- it was Kalim! "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOK! STOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPP- NO!" The leader of the Scarabia Dorm suddenly dashed over to Rook with an intense speed. His hand flew out and was quick to smack the bottle out of Rook's hand entirely. The contents splashed onto the nearby wall. Rook backed up in shock, now locking his confused gaze onto Kalim. "Roi D'or?! What are you doing here?! Wait...Grim and [Y/n] are here, too!" You and Grim ran over and stopped before the small group. Grim was the first one to speak, his bright blue eyes widened. "Kalim, did you just smack that bottle that Rook was holding?! Why?!" You were quick to fold your arms over your chest and straighten, staring at Kalim's freakishly serious expression. "He would not have done so without a good reason." Kalim was currently out of breath, gasping for air. "Ah...haaaa…..I made it in time!" Vil's eyes widened evermore, now taking yet another step back. "What….are you….doing…?" Suddenly, an odd squelching sound was heard from the wall where the juice had shattered and splashed. The contents of the juice began to both darken and thicken considerably, the juice itself now a deep, sickly green shade. Your eyes widened as you almost immediately were able to lock onto what was going on thanks to your dreams- it was poison! Grim soon expressed his concerns with the juice's appearance while Kalim turned his head to Vil. Even still, the normally bright boy looked utterly serious. "...Vil. This is the juice that you put a curse on with your Unique Magic, right? I had a bad sensation that something was going to happen concerning you….when I saw your expression whilst watching Neige's rehearsal performance." Kalim's voice deepened a bit, now allowing his eyes to faintly squint at Vil from his current position. "....It is the same expression Jamil had on his face before he Overblotted during the holidays." You turn your head to look at Vil- and freeze. He had locked his gaze right back onto Kalim...there it was again. A bone-chilling, void, utterly vicious stare. His body seemed stiff as his arms rested at his sides. He didn't even look to be breathing, a shadow now being cast over his eyes. This soon changed slightly as he turned his head to Rook. "....Rook. Why did you want to drink the juice? You should know better than anyone….that you would not have remained alive if you drank it." You and Grim shared a worried look- so he was going to murder Neige! Rook blinked a few times at the question, soon giving his answer with the utmost confidence and grace. "I wanted to believe you. The star that has been shining and streaking so far across the sky to reach the top. I believed that you would never commit such a crime and hinder your precious beauty...but. At the same time, if your precious magic and hands had crafted such a wicked tool of vengeance to smite your opponent...I wished to taste it only once. The taste of your poisonous fruits of your obsession for beauty!" Vil backed up a bit more, the sweat running down his forehead once more. Kalim was quick to retort, now worried himself. "What are you talking about, Rook?! I will not let that happen! Hey, Vil! Do you understand how stupid your actions were?! Let's show the other team a performance that will make them feel like worthless potatoes in a sack...Didn't you say we have to win the contest with our show-stopping performance?! Why?! Why would you try to kill Neige just to succeed?!" Vil's expression had shifted back to the blank one as Kalim spoke. Suddenly, upon the last few lines, he began to chuckle. "Heh...heheh…I wish to know the answers myself. But...I have come to realize….THAT I WON'T BE ABLE TO WIN AGAINST HIM! That's w-why I...i wanted to end his life...by my own hands!" Vil's voice trembled and shook with raw power and rage as he boomed out his reply throughout the halls. You gasped as you felt a sudden, odd shift in the air. The poisonous juice upon the ground was beginning to shift into a deeply purple appearance, now. A smoke began to build up from it, already beginning to restrict the proper patterns of breathing from the members of your little team. Kalim began to cough, closing his eyes as Rook warned everyone not to inhale it. "[Y/n], Kalim, Grim! Do not inhale it! This is Vil's Unique Magic- Fairest One Of All! He can put a curse onto any object. That poisonous juice has now been transformed into this restricting mist! If we breathe in a certain amount, our bodies will become paralyzed within an instant! But….one bottle of this could not have turned into this mess….unless….no!" Vil began to back up even more. His eyes widened, tears pricking at his eyes. "D-don't look at me like t-that...STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! Why….I wanted to become the most beautiful being in the world...but...why am I so...ugly...ugly….UGLY!"

Rook and Kalim began to jump to Vil's defense and say that he didn't kill anyone...but you could already feel the truth of what he was feeling. Vil had acted….like a villain. He was going to murder someone just like one. Your expression was quick to morph into one of raw pity, now watching Vil with a worried expression. He looked so panicked. Like a little boy who had lost his mother within a candy store, or a deer caught in headlights. The male's voice suddenly trembled at Kalim's declaration and boomed out again. "SHUT UP! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME?!" Your group began to panic, now watching the juice bubble and fizz into more mist. Vil let out a bone-chilling, deeply crazed laugh of triumph at the sheer fear. "AHAHAHAHAHHA! T-that's right! That's what I want! If everyone else around me becomes ugly….finally...finally….I CAN BECOME THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL!" The air around Vil began to shift. He beamed out a devilish smile. You stumbled backwards- and that was your mistake. Vil's head was quick to whip over to you and lock on. His eyes dazzled as he stared at you. Oh, [Y/n]. Sweet, sweet little [Y/n]. He had to admit, he actually had so deeply wished to allow you to be on his team and not be shunned to the sidelines with that pest of a monster. And yet, you counted as one student. Thus, if he let you in, Grim would have to come along with you. Oh, how he despised that little rule. Vil got a good look at you, his head tilting to the side. My, my...even with that fear, the darling had a certain grace about them that was almost too rich for Vil to ignore. His lips perked up into an even bigger grin. He began to stalk forward, you feeling your legs begin to shake from the sheer intensity of his stare. And just like that...the boy began to sing out a declaration of his own. "I'm so tired of pretending….where's my happy ending? I followed all the rules, I drew inside the lines...I never asked for anything that wasn't mine. I waited patiently for my time...but when it finally came….they called his name. And now, I feel this overwhelming pain! I mean, it's in my veins! I mean, it's in my brain! My thoughts are running in a circle like a toy train...I'm kind of like a perfect picture with a broken frame...and I know exactly who to blame." Vil began to stalk towards you, stepping over his own juice as Kalim and Rook began to cough even further. They began to attempt to fire spells at him to keep him back, but it was useless. He was utterly transfixed on you, now. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought I'd be like the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? Then I shall be the leader of the dark and the bad….now there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be….and they're calling me the Queen.." You began to backtrack a bit further. Vil was quick to  suddenly grab you by the arm, now slowly dragging you towards him. You fought and struggled against his vice grip, your eyes wide in confusion and sheer panic. Grim got riled up and began firing more fire spells- but Vil's mist seemed to dissipate most of them. Vil smiled down at you with a bright grin that could make even the toughest of people's blood run cold. "Being nice was my pastime...but I've been hurt for the last time...and I won't ever let another person take advantage of me- the anger burns my skin, third degree. Now my blood's boiling hotter than a fiery sea! There's nobody getting close to me! They're gonna bow to their Evil Queen! Their nightmares are my dreams! Just wait until they fall to my wicked schemes~" Right as Vil had gone to caress your cheek, you were able to jerk yourself from his grip. You stumbled back into the wall, now slowly backing up with the still sputtering Kalim, Grim, and Rook. Vil just smiled even brighter. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought that I'd be the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? I would be the leader of the dark and the bad. Now, there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me...the Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean!" Vil's head suddenly snapped over to the shattered apple juice bottle, as though he heard a voice. He slowly bent down and picked up a shard that had an apple on the front of it with part of Epel's family name. "The Queen of Mean…." His head slowly craned up, that blank stare back once more. Then, his lavender gaze trailed back to you. He slowly began to stalk forward once more, his head tilting. "Something is pulling me….it's so magnetic. My body is moving...unsure of where I am headed...all of my senses have left me defenseless...this darkness around me is promising vengeance. The price that I'm willing to pay is expensive- there's nothing to lose when you're ugly and friendless. So...my only interest...is showing that 'princess'...THAT I AM THE QUEEN AND MY REIGN WILL BE ENDLESS!"

The mist whipped around your group and knocked Kalim, Rook, and Grim back into the nearby wall. The poisonous substance along with some ink whipped around Vil's form. You gasped, watching the transformation take place. Vil had now Overblotted. He beamed out an even larger smile than before, raising his hands which displayed long, flowing, dark pieces of fabric that attached to the rest of his form. His right eye erupted in a deep purple, fiery glow, a veil upon his head. He looked...wickedly beautiful. Vil's hands raised as his eyes widened, the sheer power that was now coming off of him in waves utterly taking your breath away. "I WANT WHAT I DESERVE! I WANT TO RULE THE WORLD! SIT BACK AND WATCH THEM LEARN! IT'S FINALLY MY TURN!" Suddenly, the whipping of a carpet's tassels in the wind combated with a shouting voice cut through the air- it was Jamil! "EVERYONE, QUICKLY, HOP ON!" Kalim's gaze lit up at his Vice Dorm Head, and he did not hesitate to get on. Rook followed, then Grim. Right when you were about to join- a hand with sharp, claw-like nails curled around your top and yanked you back a bit. Vil made extra careful care with you to ensure that you did not puncture yourself upon the oddly sharp, jagged knive-like belt around his waist. The others began to cry out to you, but you soon locked eyes with Jamil. The boy stiffened, taking heed in your current gaze...and he understood. He was quick to get the flying carpet out of there. You were far more cunning than you looked. You could handle this. Vil seemed to laugh in his triumph, now allowing his hands to trail down your waist and watch the group go... they could wait. "If they want a villain for a queen...I'm gonna be one like they've never seen. I'll SHOW THEM WHAT IT MEANS! HAHA! Now that I am that! I shall be the ruler of the dark and the bad…'cause the devil's on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me~" Vil pulled you even closer to him, gently arching your back a bit so that you would not injure yourself upon the belt on his form. He began to trail kisses along your neck in a sickly sweet manner, taking his prize for his wickedness. He chuckled at the feeling of your soft skin against his lips, keeping the motions up. Soon, Vil gently pulled away and spun you around to face him. You felt as though you could shrink under that gaze. "The Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean…..I WANT WHAT I DESERVE!" Vil's lips suddenly smashed upon your own as he yanked you closer to him. Right as he did so, a crackle of lightning seemed to rumble and shake the grounds of the very stadium, a sudden burst of that mist shooting out past the two of you. Your eyes widened as he kissed your lips, his lips irresistibly smooth, soft, and plump. And funny enough...his lips tasted like apples. Perhaps this was his own, personal poison...the loving curse of a wicked, beautiful queen of mean.

((Hello hello, my lovely Readers! The day has finally arrived, as this fanfiction has! Rook, Kalim, Neige, and Vil were honestly a welcome surprise to write for! I hope everyone enjoyed this, and I shall see you in the next one~ <3

[fortunaaamajor]

Something in the Way (Fred Weasley)

Fred Weasley x Reader

The trope of everyone else knowing two people are in love before the two have figured it out is just so adorable to me, I love reading it so thought I’d try my hand at writing it...

Fem!Reader, no house mentioned, no specific physical features

Warnings: None I don’t think

Word Count: 1.6k

Although I am using the Harry Potter universe as a basis for this story I do not support JK Rowling or her views.

Fred and Y/N’s relationship was special, everyone knew that. What they shared was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Fred and Y/N’s relationship was loving and tender, both always willing to put the other first whatever the cost. Fred and Y/N’s relationship was lasting, for the last three years they had been looking at each other like they were the sole reason for the stars in the sky, the mists on the mountains and the full, glowing moon. 

Except Fred and Y/N’s relationship didn’t exist. The two had been dancing around each other all this time, never quite getting close enough to call it love.

This was why their family and friends were on high alert, overanalyzing every look, comment, or touch exchanged by the pair. Sometimes it was the glance thrown by Ginny to George as Fred adjusted Y/N’s scarf to keep her warmer. Sometimes it was Mr and Mrs Weasley whispering conspiracies about how they couldn’t pinpoint the look in Fred’s eyes when he stared at Y/N intently at dinner earlier. Sometimes it was the abrupt and secretive silence that engulfed Harry, Hermione and Ron when Y/N appeared in front of them, bringing an end to their discussion about how oblivious the two were.

Just the other day at the Burrow the twins had been helping to decorate the tree when Molly had piped up 

“Will Y/N be visiting this Christmas?” Fred’s head whipped round to frown at his mother as he finished adjusting some of the shiny muggle ‘tinsel’ Arthur Weasley had gleefully presented to his family, 

“Why would Y/N be visiting?” he had questioned, shaking his head slightly and looking towards George, who averted his eyes towards a particulary intriguing bewitched bauble. 

“Oh no reason,” Molly’s face fell “I just wanted to make sure she had some plans is all, dear...”

“Yeah, she does. She’s away until the new year actually” Fred had huffed, confused as to why his mother seemed more keen to spend time with his best friend than with him.

It was a frosty Saturday in January that Y/N had sent an owl saying she was popping in that afternoon to check out the stock for the new year. The air was clean and crisp yet cold enough that not many shoppers were braving the chill to visit Diagon Alley. The boys leant against the counter, George fumbling with some packaging distractedly. Ron was also working that day, taking his sweet time stacking some Blaze Boxes in the corner. Fred’s eyes kept darting to the clock, 

“When did she say she’d stop by again?” he asked nonchalantly, causing George to look up

“Eh, just said afternoon I think mate, don’t worry though I’m sure we won’t be too busy to have her in” he gestured to the empty shop. 

Fred stayed silent. In the corner a loud bang erupted as Ron dropped one of the boxes. Bright sparks whizzed round the room, popping and fizzing as Ron stood swearing at the front of the shop. George began to laugh but was interrupted by his twin, fist was clenched and brow furrowed - 

“Bloody hell Ron, save some stock for us to actually sell, would you?”

Fred’s tone was snarky and a comment that biting sounded so strange leaving his mouth that it took all three boys aback for a moment. 

“I’m not sure who spiked your cereal this morning but you can lose that tone with me... maybe when Y/N gets here you’ll be a bit nicer!” Ron pouted.

“Y/N’s clearly forgotten about her plans for this afternoon, or she’d be here by now.” Fred muttered, pushing past George on his way to the stock room. 

George and Ron exchanged familiar confused looks, over the three years Y/N had been in Fred’s life an entirely new language of bewildered or disbelieving stares had formed amongst the Weasleys. Fred didn’t emerge until the bell above the door rang and Y/N’s soft voice greeted them all joyfully. As if a weight had been lifted off his chest he bounded past the till and embraced her tightly. 

“I missed you, loser.”

Only a week later, the twins were sitting opposite each other, both focusing on checking the shop’s accounts (or so Fred thought) George had been turning the last interaction between his brother and Y/N over and over in his mind, wondering how on earth Fred hadn’t connected his bad mood to the absence of his dearest ‘friend’. He coughed and sat up, straightening his back, but failed to make eye contact with his brother who was still hunched over the large leather-bound book.

“Why do you think Y/N is single?” he pondered aloud, noting the way Fred’s head flicked up at the mention of her name alone. 

“That’s obvious - nobody we know is good enough for her.” Fred stated, as if George was silly for not considering such a simple explanation. 

“Ah yeah... obviously,” George coughed, attempting to hide his laugh. He made eye contact with his twin “are you sure we don’t know anyone?” he asked slowly, hoping Fred might finally catch on.

“Listen, I don’t know what this is all about but if you’re thinking of trying anything I would advise you to check the mirror to confirm that you closely resemble a mountain troll.. and I know it’s been 2 days since you last showered, therefore Y/N would never even consider it, okay?” Fred snapped 

George spluttered with laughter before managing to stammer out 

“First off, we’re identical you absolute savage.” 

Fred just shook his head, “Anyone with taste knows I’m the better looking twin.”

Fred wasn’t just fiercely protective of Y/N but he would also go to the ends of the earth for her, this much was clear to everyone...except her. It started with one, two, three butterbeers on him and developed into Y/N being able to attend plans with the twins without her purse. It was established that Fred would not allow her to part with as much as a knut whilst in his company. Nor would he allow her to spend it on his company, any product she showed interest in (or looked at for more than five seconds) was hastily put aside for her, sometimes with a shimmering ribbon clumsily knotted round it. 

“As a gift, on the house, absolutely no need for your money darling” he would assure her every single time. 

In fact, the only payment he would accept was if she came to work for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes - “you’d be amazing, Y/N you’re so good with kids, and I know you can really push sales - who could say no to you?” he had pleaded, whilst she flushed red and chuckled... “funnily enough Freddie, pretty much everyone apart from you can say no to me, you poor sod!”

This hypothesis was correct, and had been proven time and time again. When everyone gathered for dinner at Harry and Ginny’s house instead of apparating in Fred, Y/N and George had stood shivering on the doorstep, waiting for the door to be answered. When Ginny pulled it open all three of them bundled in to the warm hallway, slipping off coats and hats. 

“Why didn’t you guys apparate? It’s bloody freezing out there tonight!” she had remarked, noting that all three had cheeks flushed with cold and pink shading the tips of their noses. George tutted and glared at Fred, speaking lowly so only Ginny could hear 

“Because, my dear sister, Y/N doesn’t really like apparating so obviously Fred wouldn’t allow it!”  At the same time Y/N piped up, not having heard his comment,

“We all fancied a walk I think didn’t we Freddie?... George?”

George rolled his eyes but nodded enthusiastically and Y/N beamed as Ginny led them through to the dining room as the feeling in their fingertips began to return. 

The spread that had been prepared looked divine, the smell travelled through the whole house and made Fred’s mouth water. 

Food was shared around and wine poured, everyone caught up on the excitement of Christmas and the New Year, and congratulated the twins on the  soaring sales of the new launch. George took the chance to mention his new girlfriend, Guenevere, to the group - causing Ginny and Hermione to squeal with delight and Ron to lean over and smack him on the back in congratulations. Harry nodded along with the conversation, focused on the plate infront of him. That is, until he looked at Fred quizically

“When do you think you’ll meet someone, Fred?” he asked gently, with not a hint of malice in his voice, if anything he was trying to nudge Fred’s thoughts of the future towards Y/N, who sat on his left. 

The atmosphere in the room felt a little like a joke that everyone except Fred and Y/N were in on, everyone waited with baited breath for Fred to talk. They gasped slightly when he turned to face Y/N... then George...

“Um, I don’t know, really, at the moment I’m alright just hanging out with George and Y/N, they’re all I really need just now... and you guys, of course, and the shop. But that all goes without saying”

The entire table let out a frustrated sigh, they had been so close but were once again disappointed with his answer, Fred was none the wiser. 

‘Goes without saying my arse’ George (and the others) thought grumpily. All they wanted was Fred to say it, to say anything, to call it what it was.

The two had been dancing around each other almost four years, still never getting close enough to call it love.

A/N: Thought I’d give another bit of Fred writing a go, as my George one has been so much more popular than my last Fred one, give the boy a chance! Also this kind of invites a part two, so if anyone has any suggestions of scenarios in which these two finally get together, send em my way. Much love.

[worstloki]

The Sylvie Show

this got a bit long so i'm putting it under a cut but basically it's episode summaries of what i would do if the loki show had sylvie as the main character instead, since I do think the plot of the show would be better suited to be focused around her rather than 2012 loki. I've tried to keep it so that a lot of existing canon shots/sets/scenes can be reused.

episode 1: the show opens up with young Sylvie on Asgard. The TVA appear and drag her towards a temportal. She wakes up from the apparent nightmare, gasping heavily. cue title card and cool music. a portal opens within a church, sylvie interrupts the man giving a talk on religion, questioning what he's saying with roundabout logic and being generally witty, even managing to incorporate giving a bar of gum she had in a pocket to a child sitting on an aisle seat who is really happy about it. the man is still coming up with an answer to what she said when the doors of the church are broken open and TVA agents start to file in. Sylvie says "about time," and proceeds to have fun slaying the unit and stealing a tempad. She picks up the charge on her way out, sending a blow kiss to the devil mural on the wall on her way out. cut to stepping out of a temportal, throwing the charge behind her over a shoulder (it lands on a mattress) and taking a heavy seat in front of a set of screens which show the inside of a mall. the cameras are mostly empty and where there are people it does not fascinate her (one of them shows someone reloading shelves). she scrutinizes the screens, drumming fingers on the table, but quickly sighs and pulls out her tempad: it flashes with low battery and she rolls her eyes, throwing it into a bin filled with likewise empty devices. she's about to get up when the cameras show a group of agents walking into the store. among them is one with a jacket reading VARIANT in bright orange. "Sh*t," she says, getting up and going to the mattress, rifling through a pile of clothes on the floor next to it "sh*t sh*t sh*t where is it". She pulls out a dark brown jacket, and the camera pans over to the screens again, where the VARIANT turns: it's Loki. A golden portal opens on the beige walls of the TVA, Hunter C-20 stepping through holding a man in 1940s army uniform by the arm and dragging him towards a desk. the man protests but she places a grenade on the counter and tells the deskworker to log it. "it wasn't a dummy," is the explanation she gives. In the background a single guard steps through a portal, looking around and proceeding to the doors out of this room. It's Sylvie, and she walks alone past other guards and rooms labelled Court and Memory Chamber. A group of people run past her saying a variant is loose and she walks faster. She walks past one court room, catching the words "trust me, you can smell the cologne of two Tony Starks," but continues looking around. An analyst (Mobius) rounds the corner in the direction of the court rooms and seems to be in a hurry, and Sylvie takes a sharp turn opening the closest door to her to avoid being seen. She is in a room with a Sacred Timeline screen, and zeroes in on the man closest to her, "what are you--" she places a hand over his mouth and pushes him down into his desk area behind his trolley, shushing him. "Do you know where the Reset Charge Storage Chambers are?" "Why?" *deep breath* *serious face on* "Tell me where the storaGE CHAMBer iS or I'll GUT YOU like a goAT!" "is that... like a fish?" *confusion* "how do you not know what a goat is?!" she spots a poster on the wall with a location guide and pushes Casey away with a hand to the face. "Nevermind." - We see Loki monologuing "the idea that your little club decides the fate of trillions of people across all of existence at the behest of three space lizards, yes, it's funny. It's absurd." an agent walks past in the background pushing a trolley but no attention is brought to it "I thought you didn't like to talk," mobius says. Sylvie pushes a door reading "Storage: Units" open, but looks and finds bodies in little cyro pod chambers lined up. "wrong door," she says, and pulls the trolley across the hall to the door reading "Storage: Charges." She's in a room with shelves filled up with reset charges, and opens the trolley drawer to find it already filled up with useless junk like infinity stones and such. to which she has no reaction. She shoves all that stuff to the side and out of the drawer, making space to

carefully place reset charges there. She individually picks up the two Tesseracts in it though and admires them, saying they're shiny and placing them on lower shelves in the room instead of on the floor. While she loads up the trolley ("a few more should do it") Loki walks past the door in full TVA outfit, happy and carrying a stack of papers that read RAGNAROK in bright red letters. She closes the drawer, takes her Hunter helmet off to shake out her hair and wipe sweat from her forehead, then puts it back on, pushing the trolley towards the door. Mobius has a hand at Loki's back, guiding him out of the Memory Chamber, Loki has clearly been crying and Mobius comforts him "it won't be so bad, you love being useful. and wearing suits." Sylvie walks past, pushing the trolley in the background. Sylvie continues down the hall, and when she sees no one behind or in front she pulls out her tempad and opens a portal, pushing her trolley and herself through. She's already gone and misses Classic Loki with a collar around his neck being escorted through the hall. - Sylvie and her trolley push through the portal and are in a mall, the lights dim and flickering above. Thunder is heard and lightning strikes as she places a reset charge on a shelf, flicking open a panel on it's side, and then walking a bit further and placing another. "May I help you?" a store employee asks, startling her. She considers. "Actually..." and places a hand to the person's temple - it takes a few seconds of effort but her fingertips glow green, and so does the person's eyes and temple, "don't mind if you do." She walks away from the trolley in a rush, and the store worker behind places a reset charge on a shelf. "I'm a bit short on time," she says to herself, pulling out her Tempad. Suspenseful music as the screen fades to black. - Everything cuts to a desert, with a small town in the background. A portal appears high up, and Loki falls from it to the ground. the words "twelve miles east of Puento Antiguo" appear on screen, and we see Loki formed a small crater in the ground, reminiscent of Mjolnir and the one in Stark Tower. "Ow," Loki says, taking the muzzle off with one hand, and then pulling the cuff chains off. The dust settles around him and he's still extricating himself from the hole in the ground and groaning about sand being irritating and getting everywhere when a golden portal opens up (we get a high shot, showing that Loki did indeed land within a larger crater too). Loki puts his hands in the air. "Appears to be a standard sequence violation. Branch is growing at a stable rate and slope. Variant identified." "Beg your pardon but I--" "On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the Sacred Timeline." "I didn't meddle with time, that would be the Avengers." "You're coming with us." *agents point pruners at him* "It's been a long day, I'm afraid you'll have to make me." *loki's hands start to glow green but B-15 presses a button, freezing him in place. Any sand blowing in the wind or any dust rising has also now stopped. There is a bird stuck mid-flight. B-15 pulls out a collar and places it around his neck. An agent places a reset charge on the ground and activates it, it starts to fizz purple. Time unfreezes and B-15 drags Loki going "hey!" through a temportal, and it closes, leaving the audience to watch a few seconds of the charge going off and the radius of the charge increasing, washing the ground in a bright neon-ish light.

Episode 2: this one is a combination of the Loki episodes 1 and 2. Basically, Loki goes on trial, the TVA has no reason he's committed a crime, but Mobius who had been at the church crime scene saves him and takes him to the memory chamber to break. What gets him to stop acting as if he actually wanted to rule all of space and whatnot is Mobius bringing up the topic of choice in Avengers 1, and asking if Loki knew the mind stone was effecting him too, along with him explicitly asking about the torture which happened before, even during - he pulls up footage - the invasion. Mobius pulls up footage of Frigga and Loki pickpockets the collar remote etc. everything else remains the same, including most of episode 2, with Sylvie fighting to "I need a hero" etc, but C-20 is left behind after being enchanted. When the TVA show up C-20 is tied up hastily in leather belts and rope. She's mostly out of it saying stuff like "it's real, it's all real" but she also says "we're variants, we're all variants" which Mobius obviously brushes over casually. Loki narrows his eyes though, and says stepping out of the renaissance fair tent would have them winding up dead like the agents scattered around here, B-15 calls bluff and Mobius says to wait but the people walking in front of the ones holding C-20 up to take her to the TVA for medical help fall dead upon stepping out. Loki was stalling for time with the wold anecdote, and doesn't tell how he knew the death thing would happen ("I see a scheme, and in that scheme I see myself" "bullsh*t" "it's true. my reflection looks quite good, too." "you *sshole." *he smiles softly, as if t'were a compliment*), and everyone gets back by opening portals from within the tent. The dots between the gum and the apocalypses is drawn, they see Pompeii, end up going to Roxxcart, where we see Sylvie watching the screens, now in her leather gear. B-15 and Loki split up together, the guy at the 'hurricane sale' placed a charge on the shelf but no attention is drawn to that bc Loki and 'Loki' are talking. Sylvie emphasizes that she holds a grudge because he's a traitor, specifically for working for the TVA because they're "condescending time fascists." Loki assures her he knows, and that he's seen the charges around the place. She comes to the realization that he's been undercover/faking. We're shown Mobius and co. finding the room with screens but it's just got Sylvie's random junk, nothing really useful. They talk some more, no physical fighting but the vessel sizes get bigger and Loki calls it 'real mature'. While they still disagree on what to do with the Time Lizards (destroy or overthrow) Sylvie settles on leaving the portal open for him at the end and giving him a chance. She waits for him to go through first, with Loki looking back at Mobius meaningfully determined and then walking through.

Episode 3: Young sylvie is going through the stripping/signing/temporal aura process. She's sent into the court room. she bites and runs out of the room, putting distance before fiddling with the tempad she took, figuring it out, while Renslayer gets stuck answering the Judge. Sylvie appears back on Asgard, but there's already a Sylvie there playing with her toys. a TVA portal opens and she presses another "Asgard" on the device to escape quickly. "I just want to go home," she says to herself, appearing in the same room, but the child is a bit older (a teen?) and a boy and black and reading instead of playing but he's clearly also in green/gold and a loki. the kid turns after hearing her and she panicks and goes through another portal. another one with adult loki in the same room, she looks hopeful as if she could ask for help but then sif walks in with insults and slaps him but spots her. "who's the kid," sif asks and a portal opens up next to her. Agents step through and Sif punches one that does, asking Loki what trick this is now. Sif/Loki fight them while they're still coming through, sylvie presses another asgard but sees a knocked out agent has a tempad on his belt and takes it before running again. no loki in the room, it's empty, but a group of people rush across, talking hurriedly about 'the goddess of death' and 'odin's real heir' and 'thor and loki dead' and 'seeking refuge in the moutains.' Sylvie looks lost. Cue titlecard and cool music. They step into the TVA. Sylvie is determined, telling Loki to hurry because they won't have much time the TVA remains in disarray from the reset charges everywhere, but stops when he says he needs to get a weapon. "Why didn't you use magic to get some earlier," she asks. "Spares," he smiles, "magic doesn't work here after all." Sylvie notes that it explains her last attempts to infiltrate failing so badly. They fight some guards together on the way to the elevator rather than fighting each other. The elevator to the time keepers opens but Renslayer and a bunch of guards are in it waiting. Sylvie grabs Loki and tries to use him as a bargaining tool. Doesn't work, obviously, and Sylvie is shaken upon coming face to face with the same Hunter who had caught her as a kid, she doesn't react in time to stop Loki taking her tempad and dropping them somewhere. Same plot from here, the two of them fighting over the tempad, with Sylvie wanting to go back and Loki telling her they clearly already failed and she should explain what's going on first. She says she doesn't need to and if he wants to help defeat the TVA he needs to trust her and give the tempad back. He makes it vanish and she gets frustrated, asking if he gives up on everything that easily, and maybe that's why he's the first Loki she's seen working with the TVA. Etc. They need a power source anyway and get to the train hoping it'll lead to the ship that won't get off-planet anyway. Loki acts a fool Sylvie naps, wakes up to singing. Sylvie calls him out for not actually being drunk and also he downs a glass and offers her one, and when Sylvie asks how he's paying for it he says it's on the house and points to the barkeeper (male. we're implying/showing flirting. maybe a wink at him or a cute wave.). It's blatantly clear he's trying to get info on her backstory along the way and she's not falling for it but allowing him to know a bit of stuff. (eg. "I know everything is watered down ale for an Asgardian," "watered-down watered-down, more like. But you know of Asgard? Do go on...") She softens at hearing his backstory, and shares hers too. The people appear and ask to see their tickets, everything is the same from here forward. The episode ends with them watching the ship getting destroyed.

Episode 4: different music when sylvie and loki look into each others eyes since i didn't like that. cue titlecard and song after the TVA portals open on Lamentis. this episode remains the same mostly with Sylvie and Mobius driving the plot. No narcissist comment but Mobius gets to act jelly of what Sylvie and Loki have going on. Instead of it just being a bad memory loop with Sif we get her three times and then it alternates to Thor who is also angry. If he's not already down Thor will punch him (even though Loki is just happy to see him bc he didn't think he'd see him again--) and then tell him to hold still so it'll hurt less. It's framed as bad and Thor will imply it's only a fitting punishment. Thor is only shown twice, the first time the scene cuts at Loki being hit and held down, the second is Thor leaving the room, chuckling about how Loki didn't need to talk to anyone anyway bc he's alone, says he'll heal soon anyway. Loki isn't shown, but Thor's fingers have blood on them where they hold mjolnir. the loop resets and Loki is back to standing in the middle of the room and ghosts a hand over his mouth and then Mobius arrives. Loki calls the repeated memory boring and cruel, says he hates when Thor is drunk and feeling rash, with Mobius saying at least he didn't send him to Thanos or something and gave his crotch a break. Sylvie asks what her nexus event was and Renslayer doesn't remember. The end of the episode is the same, with Sylvie 1v1-ing Renslayer and beheading a Time Keeper, Loki getting pruned. The credit scene remains the same.

[mnemosyne-musing]

Double date (River/11)

(So this prompt link is very tenuous and has basically turned into pwp for which I at least partially blame sonic for encouraging me. This version is rated T but the link for the slightly smuttier version is here)

“So!” the Doctor leaps up the stairs to the console and grabs the monitor, spinning around on his heel before typing rapidly into the keyboard, “I was thinking, once River arrives, maybe, a trip to the Amazzi waterfalls. They have these wonderful pools filled with algae. Only, it’s not really algae, it’s this kind of-“

“Doctor,” Rory interrupts, somewhat tentatively, “We were thinking tonight. If you don’t mind that is. That we could just stay in? Maybe have dinner and, you know, just talk to River, and you of course?”

“Yes,” Amy pipes up quickly, “Only if you don’t mind of course,”

He looks up from the console at the two of them standing by the railing. Amy folding her hands slightly nervously in front of her and Rory biting his lip anxiously.

He beams at them. “Of course!”

Amy gives a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you! It’s not that we don’t want to go anywhere, it’s just, it’s been a lot the last few weeks and we haven’t really had much of a chance to process or talk to River or-“

“Ooh, it can be like a double date!” he cuts in and claps his hands together, “We can cook dinner here. I’ve got this wonderful recipe from Escoffier. Fabulous chap. I worked in his restaurant once actually and-“

“Doctor, are you sure?”

He waves a hand at them as he types. “Pond, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. It doesn’t always have to be running and excitement. I can do an evening in. Now, off you pop and get your cooking clothes on! I’ll pick up River and we’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Amy and Rory grin at each other before bounding towards the stairs and out of the console room.

“Thank you, Doctor!” Amy calls as they scarper down the corridor.

It had been just over a month since leaving River in the hospital after Berlin. They’d seen her once since then. He’d taken the Ponds to a planet with a fantastic seventeen hour meteor shower and they’d bumped into her on the viewing deck. They’d also run into a gang of high-end jewel smugglers whose presence there River swore was a complete coincidence to hers. He had his serious doubts about that but, honestly, he’d been quite distracted by all the running and excitement and then afterwards River had had to dash off very quickly. Well, not so quickly that she hadn’t grabbed him and snogged him against the door of the TARDIS but. Anyway.

He sighs and shakes his head to clear of it of those thoughts before returning to the monitor. He’s just about to pull the lever to let the TARDIS dematerialise when there’s a familiar noise of someone appearing by vortex manipulator behind him.

“Hello sweetie,”

He turns around, a grin already on his face and leans back against the console. River is standing a few feet away, wearing a dark trench coat that’s cinched in and tied at the waist, a pair of dazzlingly high blue heels on her feet that do funny things to his insides.

She begins to stalk towards him, a little bit like a predator approaching its prey.

“I thought I’d bring you a birthday present,” she practically purrs, stopping just out of arm’s reach.

He quirks an eyebrow. “But, it’s not my birthday?”

She simply smiles. A slow smirk that spreads across her face and now she really does look like she’s sizing him up for the kill. That thought really shouldn’t thrill him as much as it does he briefly ponders.

She brings a hand to the belt on her coat and slowly pulls it loose. “Care to reconsider?” she asks, her voice low and throaty as the coat falls open.

The Doctor opens his mouth but all words and possible replies immediately evaporate as he catches sight of what she’s wearing beneath the coat. Or rather, what she’s mostly not wearing beneath the coat. He hardly thinks that the plunging bra and skimpy pair of knickers, both made of flimsy lace in a deep blue colour to match her heels, really count as clothes. In fact, he can think of several planets on which that is most definitely not considered an outfit and would probably be illegal and really- hang on, why is he thinking about other planets when River is here and-

He licks his lips and swallows. “I think,” he manages to croak out, “I think it might be my birthday after all.”

River grins wickedly at him and lets the coat fall to the floor with a soft thud. She steps in towards him and grasps his shirt front, pulling him off the console and steering him backwards towards the jump seat. She pushes him down willingly into the seat and his hands automatically drift to grasp her hips, his fingers splaying across her back and stroking the soft skin there.

As she leans down to kiss him, there’s a small flicker of a thought at the back of his mind that there was something he was supposed to be doing. Something he was doing just before River arrived and-

A little while later, she levers herself off his lap as gracefully as she can before turning to look for her knickers. He watches unashamedly as she bends down to retrieve them, arse in the air and wearing nothing but those heels. She frowns down at them before shrugging, kicking her heels off and slipping her underwear back on. Turning back towards him she leans down and nabs his shirt, slipping it on before he can protest and carelessly doing up less than half the buttons.

She looks so utterly delectable, all beautifully dishevelled and ravished that he reaches for her again but she dances out of his reach.

“River!” he complains, as she sashays away from him and towards the corridor, “Where are you going?”

“We need to toast your birthday!” she calls over her shoulder as she disappears around the corner.

“But, it’s not really-,” he sighs and stops as he realises he’s talking to an empty room. He shakes his head and pulls up his boxers and trousers before sitting back in the jumpseat and waiting for River to reappear. He still hasn’t really caught his breath back since River first appeared in the console room.

He must’ve closed his eyes very briefly because he nearly jumps out of his skin a few minutes later when River’s voice suddenly crackles in the air.

“Sweetie, do we have any of the 1976 Krug? I’m sure we do but I can only find the ’77 and it just isn’t as good.”

He looks around wildly but he’s still alone in the console room.

“River?” he exclaims, “What? How are you doing- Where-“

“I’m in the kitchen, sweetie,” she says in that infinitely patient tone that she seems to reserve for when she’s telling him something extremely obvious, “I’m speaking over the intercom.”

“But. The TARDIS doesn’t have an intercom?” he objects, still looking frantically around the room as if River might suddenly pop up from behind the furniture somewhere. Her silence in response to his comment tells him she is probably rolling her eyes at him.

He’s about to come up with something very cutting and witty when over the intercom he suddenly hears a gasp and a very Scottish ‘Oh my god!’

The Ponds! Oh gods indeed! He had totally forgotten them and their date! He leaps up, spinning around to look for his shirt and then remembers River had purloined it just minutes ago. He swears in Gallifreyan under his breath, running a hand desperately through his hair before dashing out the door.

He sprints down the corridor which is rather longer than he remembers it being, cursing the TARDIS under his breath as he does do. He careens to a halt just before the kitchen and vainly tries to slow his breathing as he attempts to nonchalantly stroll inside.

He stops in the doorway and swallows nervously. River is leaning back against the kitchen counter, still clad in only his shirt and her knickers. She’s clutching a bottle of champagne in one hand and a couple of glasses in the other and looking exceptionally amused.

There’s another doorway into the kitchen on the opposite side to him and standing there are both Ponds. Amy is looking mildly embarrassed but still faintly amused whereas Rory has a shocked and slightly horrified expression on his face.

“Ah, there you are, sweetie!” River calls out cheerfully, “Did you want a glass of fizz?”

“Doctor?” Amy simply puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head at him expectantly.

“Ponds!” he exclaims as he looks wild-eyed between them, “River just arrived and- she- Well, we were going to celebrate because-“

“I think we know how you two were ‘celebrating’,” Amy snorts, folding her arms in front of her, “You’re only wearing one outfit between the two of you!”

“Ah, no, no,” the Doctor shakes his head frantically, “I know what this looks like but actually I had to give River my shirt as she only had a coat and some underwear that, well, really wasn’t much of an outfit to begin with and after-“

“Not. Helping, Doctor,” Rory mutters from between gritted teeth as he scrubs a hand over his eyes as if trying to erase that particular mental picture.

The Doctor gulps and attempts to salute the other man. “Sorry, centurion.”

“I suppose I should have asked earlier but when are we, Doctor?” River asks, still looking far too entertained with the whole situation.

“We’ve only just done Berlin a few weeks ago,” he mumbles as her eyes widen.

“Oh! Early days then,” River nods in understanding, a grin still playing around her lips, “So, this is the first time you’ve caught us like this?” she asks Amy and Rory as they nod.

“Hang on!” the Doctor says in a panicked voice, her words suddenly sinking in, “What do you mean ‘first time’?”

River simply gives him that knowing smirk again. “Believe me, none of you want to know about those times in advance.”

He puts that rather worrying thought to the back of his mind, ignoring the way Rory blanches and Amy gives a small shudder. Pasting a smile on his face, he claps his hands. “Well, we’re all here now! We can have that double date!”

“Double date?” River raises an eyebrow as she looks at him.

Amy shakes her head. “Sorry Raggedy-Man. Seeing you two half-dressed has kind of ruined my appetite.”

The Doctor glares at her and pulls his braces up self-consciously over his bare-chest, ignoring River’s soft snort of laughter. “Oi. Rude, Amelia.

“Don’t you Amelia me!” she retorts and wags a finger at him, “I know exactly what you’ve been doing with my daughter!” she adds as the Doctor blushes bright red and avoids her gaze. She turns on her heel and heads towards the door, dragging Rory along with her. “We’ll see you in the morning,” she calls over her shoulder, “If you could try and keep it out of the communal areas that would be lovely!”

The Doctor splutters in protest and turns an even deeper shade of red. He turns to River who is still leaning against the countertop. “You,” he points his finger accusingly at her, “This is all your fault.”

“My fault?”

“Yes,” he nods emphatically, crossing his arms across his bare chest and trying to look foreboding as it was possible to look when only half dressed, “We had a nice evening planned. The four of us. A double date. And then, you arrived with-,” he gestures vaguely at her, “Well. With all-. Looking like that and now here we are.”

River ignores his attempts at glaring and simply laughs. She puts the champagne and glasses down on the side and slinks towards him, her hips swaying. She runs her hands up his chest and winds them around his neck.

“I’m sorry, my love,” she coos in a tone that suggests she isn’t really very sorry at all. She leans in closer and whispers in his ear. “Shall I make it up you?”

He swallows heavily, his arms having already uncrossed themselves and somehow found themselves settling on her hips. “Well,” he mumbles, “It is my birthday after all.”

Her answering laugh is muffled as he kisses her once more.

--

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: I Got You** {One-Shot}

Lewis Tan x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Fluff, Mild to Moderate NSFW, Mild to Moderate Smut

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Lewis takes notice that you’re having a hard day, so he pushes everything to the side to make it easier.

Note: This is for @munteanhorewrites I hope this make you feel all fluffy, doll.  💜💜

 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

 ***Mildly Interactive***

~~~~~~~~

The way you kissed him goodbye this morning was weighing heavily on his mind. He was so in tune with you that it was easy for him to decipher how you felt. Depending on the kiss he got, he could determine if you were happy, feeling flirtatious, sad, angry, or even annoyed. This morning’s kiss was a detached one that left the taste of melancholy on his lips. He’d wanted to pull you back to him and badger you until you told him what was wrong, but time was once again against him.

 Four hours into this shoot, and he was still at it. He’d never had more than fifteen minutes to himself, and even then, he was still working. Either it was doing small interviews and web appearances, or it was answering emails. He always tried to find a balance in his life. A balance to give you the attention you deserved, but the last few months had been difficult because his name was coming up more and more for potential roles, which meant many more meetings.

 Finally, with some time for himself, he dialed you. After three rings, you picked up.

 “Hi babe,” you said, your voice low and dejected.

 “Hi, princess. How are you?”

“Eh--,” you began on a sigh. “I’m okay. I’m just sitting on the balcony with Bear.”

 “Is she keep you good company until daddy comes home?”

 “Yeah, she’s always so sweet to me.”

 Even your voice now didn’t sound like your usual self. He could feel something was off.

 “What’s wrong, princess?”

 Again, you sighed, but you didn’t speak right away. Instead of speaking, he patiently waited for you to be ready to talk about it. He knew better than to force you to open up. You’d do it in your own time. After almost a minute, you spoke.

 “It’s just one of those days, I guess.”

 “Yeah? Tell me about it,” he coaxed on.

 “I just feel at a crossroads, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel all over the place, but like I’m standing still. I don’t even know if that made any sense.”

 He could hear the struggle in your voice and even felt the chaos going on in your head. His heart sunk, and just like that, his decision was made.

 “It made sense. How about we talk about it when I get in?”

 “Sure, baby, I’m sorry I don’t mean to bring you down while you’re working,” you began before he quickly shut you down.

 “I don’t wanna hear you say that again. You never bring me down. You’re the reason I’m always on cloud ten.”

 You snorted. “Babe, you mean, cloud nine.”

 “Nah, I said what I meant, princess. Cloud ten. You got me walking in the sky on a whole different level than anyone else. They wish they were me.”

 “You’re so silly. Get back to work,” you teased.

 “Y/N.”

 “Yes, baby.”

 “I love you. You know that, right.”

 “I know, babe,” you began to brush off.

 “No, I don’t think you do, but you will by the end of the day,” he finished.

 Once he ended the call, he got on the phone with his people to cancel the rest of his day. He didn’t care what it took. He had no intention of working for the rest of the day. It was strictly for you.

 Once the photo shoot was finished, he made a few quick stops to pick up things he would need. Plenty of your favorite candles. An overflow of your bath and body products from Lush. Your favorite order from the Japanese restaurant you always craved. Several servings of your favorite dessert and a few gifts. When he made it home, it almost six. Before bringing in the bags, he tracked you down, finding you still on the balcony in the bedroom.

 “Hey, baby.”

 Your smile was bright, but it never reached your eyes. “Hi.”

 He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “You smell like cotton candy, vanilla, and sugar. Where’ve you been?”

 Trying not to seem suspicious, he shrugged. “I just picked up a few things from the store. Have you eaten today?”

 You leaned back and hugged Bear closer, who was trying to reach him. Bending down closer, he allowed her to lick along his jaw.

 “Hi Bear, how are you? Have you been taking care of our lil’ mama? Yes, you have. Such a good girl.”

 For a few moments, both of you snuggled and scratched behind Bear’s ears, showering her with the same affection she always showed both of you.

 “So, did you?”

 “I had some tea and a muffin earlier.”

 “Princess,” he began scolding before you sighed then pouted those perfect lips.

 “Don’t be mad at me,” I couldn’t take that too.”

 “No baby, I’m not mad. I just don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself. You mean everything to me, and I need you around.”

 You felt your heart swell from his words. You knew you meant a lot to him, but hearing him voice it always made your heart skip a beat. Turning around with the chair back between you, you flung your arms around his neck, holding him closer.

 “I love you.”

 “I love you too, princess,” Lewis whispered back.

 That was when you let everything out. You told him about the sleepless night you’d had, which he wasn’t even aware of. You told him about your worries, your fears, the anxieties that had reared their ugly heads, and held you captive all day. You held nothing back. The deepness of your anxieties and pain had him pulling you out of the chair, so you straddled him on the floor. He held you as you cried and let you use him as your teddy bear for as long as you needed.

 Once your sobs subsided, he proceeded to tell you all the things he loved about you, beginning with your kind and giving heart, the one he fell in love with first. He told you how much he loved your sense of humor and intelligence and loyalty to those you love. He even revealed a few secrets he’d held on to since the beginning of your relationship that would have told you how completely wrapped around your finger you had him. Nothing was off limits. He let it all out.

 By the time the sun had set over the horizon, you were staring at each other, neither in a rush to move or do anything else. He almost forgot about the night he’d planned—almost.

 “Give me ten minutes. I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing your nose and placing you on the floor.

 He rushed around your home to gather the bath products he’d bought and brought them into the bathroom to fill the tub. As he filled it, he didn’t think much of what ingredients were meant for what; all he cared about was the scent. He knew which scents would help with stress and mood, and those were the ones he focused on. As the water filled and the bath bombs fizzed out, he placed the candles around the bathroom and lit each one.

 Once he was sure everything was perfect, he went back to your bedroom and found you right where he left you, again with Bear in your arms. She loved the attention. Slowly he covered your eyes and led you to the bathroom, all the while you softly giggled.

 “What are you up to?”

 “Nothing. I just want tonight to be all about you. I want you to truly feel loved, taken care of, and safe.”

 “Aw, babe.”

 When he lowered his hands from your eyes, you gasped and brought yours to your mouth.

 “Oh my god, Lewis.”

 Before you was such a lovely sight, it brought tears to your eyes. The soft glow of the plethora of candles that were decorated around bathed the room in a romantic aura that had butterflies filling your belly. When your eyes dropped to the tiled floors, you found red and white rose petals leading to the back of the bathroom, where the dark bamboo colored flooring held the white porcelain tub.

 “Babe.”

 The tears in your eyes welled to capacity. Lewis dragged the pads of his thumbs just underneath your eyes to sweep them away.

 “Come on.”

 He led you along the flower path to the tub. The scent of plumeria, gardenia, vanilla, brown sugar, and a few other scents wrapped around you, making you moan.

 “Babe, this is so sweet,” you whined. When he smiled and showed off those adorable dimples, you playfully dug your pointer into them, deepening them.

 “Come on. Let’s get you in.”

Lewis stepped behind you, undid your robe, and helped you into the tub. As you sank down, you sighed out, relishing the feel of the hot water on your skin. Once you sat, you stretched and dipped your back to rest your neck against the cushion there.

 “Is it good?”

 “Yes, baby, thank you.”

 Instead of leaving, Lewis went behind you, sat on the raised portion of the floor, and picked up your bath gloves.  When you felt him begin to bathe you, you melted.

 “You’re going to give me a bath?”

 “Yep,” he replied.

 “Sure, you can handle that?”

 His smile was wide before he bit his bottom lip. “You know how focused I can be when I have a goal.”

 “And what’s the goal, baby?”

 Your eyes met. “The goal is to have the love of my life feel like the queen she is. So turn around, lay back, and let daddy do all the work.”

 You did as you were told, and Lewis did as he promised—he did all the work. Lewis rubbed your muscles and massaged out all the kinks and lumps your body held with expertise. You always knew he was good with his hands. He could handle every weapon with ease and skill. That skill didn’t stop there; it stretched far beyond martial arts and weaponry. By the time he’d drained the tub and rinsed your body off, you could have floated away from how lite you felt.

 He left you for a few minutes leaving you to wrap in a towel and make it back to your bedroom where you found your stock of body products replenished with a sweet note and gift box. Inside the gift box were a new robe and a sexy cami and short set. After lathering your skin with the lotion that smelled like coconuts, roses, and cocoa butter, you put the items on. When you turned around there, Lewis stood leaning on the door jamb, just quietly watching you.

 “How long have you been there?”

 “Since you popped that delectable thigh up there,” he said, nodding to the bed.

Smiling, you tried not to feel embarrassed. He’d been watching since the very beginning and hadn’t made one sound.

 “How many times have I told you not to used your creepy martial arts stealth against me,” you teased as you walked across to him.

 “Once or twice, but I get the best shows when you don’t know I’m there,” he cooed into your ear before he placed and kiss on your neck.

 “Mmm, you smell so good,” Lewis added, biting your shoulder, making you moan and melt against him. His hand slid down the curve of your back to grip your backside, again making you moan.

 “I like this,” he huskily mentioned.

 “Not sure who you bought it for, me or you.”

 Lewis’s grip tightened on your flesh, pulling you closer so you could feel the beginning stirs of his arousal.

 “Mmm, is that also for me?”

 You lifted a leg and wrapped it around him, making his grip change, so his fingertips gently brushed your sex. The action made both of you groan. When you felt his member thicken even more, you slipped your hand between you to rub your hand against his crotch. Lewis sucked in a breath, then grunted.

 “Behave, princess,” he said before you felt him pinch your clit, sending a hot red blaze of desire through your body.

 Lewis lowered your leg, turned, and led you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he brought you into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to find the biggest pillow and blanket fort you’d ever seen. Excitement bubbled in you, which had you jumping and screeching as Bear scurried by your feet.

 “Oh my god, baby. A pillow fort? Aaah!”

With that, you ran around the living room, looking at everything he’d managed to do. It was a small thing, but he knew how much you loved cheesy things like this. When you rounded to him, you leaped into his arms, wrapping your legs around him.

 “Oh, baby, thank you. I love it,” you said, kissing all over his face.

 “I’m glad you like it. It’s gonna stay up the whole week. It took forever.” Your smile was wide before you kissed him once, then twice. On the third kiss, you delved your tongue into his mouth and took control of a kiss you hoped showed him how much this and he meant to you. Lewis moaned on your mouth before his hands dropped to cup your ass. As if unconsciously, he angled you against his need, and in seconds you were making out and moaning. Lewis was the one to abruptly pull away and groan.

 “Let’s eat.”

 Dinner was amazing and perfect. While you ate, Lewis gave you complete control over what you watched. Not wanting to make him sit through some super sappy romance movie, you chose something with a good mix of action and romance. By the time you moved on to the second movie, dinner was finished, and you’d moved on to dessert. Again you melted when you saw just how much trouble he’d gone through for you today. The second gift he gave you was a gold bracelet with a heart with your first initial and his together, and the mandarin word forever etched on the back. That was when stray tears rolled down your face, to which Lewis whispered nothing but words of love, infatuation, and desire.

 Halfway through their third movie, your hands began their search for the warmth of his flesh. It didn’t take long for your search to go from innocent to complete debauchery.  You could tell your touch was having an effect when Lewis’s breathing sounded more and more labored, and the speed of his heartbeat increased underneath your cheek. The way his slim limbs looked in his boxer briefs had your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Slipping your hand down his abdomen and over every ab, you slinked your hand unto his underwear. Lewis groaned.

 “What’re you doing, princess?”

 “What does it feel like, daddy?”

 He groaned, bit his bottom lip, then slightly arched when you gently gripped his shaft.

 “This is supposed to be a calm night for you. it’s not supposed to be about--.”

 His words paused, and breath hitched as your hand traveled lower to caress the balls of his manhood.

 “God, you’re killing me, baby.”

 “What am I doing?”

 When he looked at you, the innocence in your eyes hid his member visibly pulsate. The helplessness you saw in his eyes had you instantly wet. You swung your leg over him and straddled him, letting the heat from your core sear his hardness, branding him as yours all over again. Lewis sucked in a breath and leaned back on one of the mountains of pillows.

 “We don’t—you don’t have to—I just wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to show you how much I love you,” Lewis rushed out with great effort.

 “I love you so much for everything you did today. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it and you more than you’ll ever know,” you began.

 You then leaned closer to him so your face was right in front of his. He was close enough to kiss. All he had to do was take it.

 “It’s my turn to do something for you to show you how much I love you.”

 Once the words came out, Lewis’s lips were on yours. He kissed you intensely and passionately. It was a kiss that stole your breath. In no time, everything had flipped, including your body. You were now underneath him with your legs spread. As Lewis kissed you, he rocked his body against you, fanning the flames of your desire.

 “I love you,” Lewis whispered as you peeled his underwear off his hips. Lewis assisted you in sliding them lower until he’d kicked them off.

 Once you felt the heaviness of his need rest on your pubis, you moaned and wrapped a leg around his back. Lewis didn’t wait. In seconds he’d managed to pull off the shorts you wore and fling them somewhere in the room. From then, there was no need to go slowly.

 “Make love to me,” you whispered.

 Lewis locked eyes with yours and thrust forward, connecting your bodies. Both of you sighed out as if you’d found your sanctuary after a long day.

 “I love you,” you whispered on a strangled breath.

 His response was a kiss that spoke of nothing but languid need, while his thrusts said he needed you and needed you now. His thrusts were swift but deep, and they worked to drive you insane. Within minutes you were clinging to him, sinking your nails into his back. Every connection you clenched around him while panting his name. On every retreat, he whimpered yours.

 “You’re my world, Y/N.”

 You could see the truth of what he spoke in his eyes, and it brought you closer to the edge. Lewis sensed it and doubled down on his efforts to make you come undone.

 “Do you love me, princess?”

 “So much, baby,” you whispered before you gasped loudly.

 Your back arched, and seconds later, you were clenching around him as your orgasm tore through you. It was so powerful it dragged Lewis down with you. The two of you laid on the soft blankets of your fort, catching your breath. Lewis traced lazy patterns into your skin before he shifted onto his side, taking you with him. As you gazed into each other eyes, you fell in love with him all over again.

 “Thank you, baby.”

 “I’d do anything for you. Remember, I’m always here for you. You win, I win. You’re happy; I’m over the moon. You’re unhappy; my world is dark. Confide in me. I got you.”

 He kissed your nose and pulled you closer. It didn’t take long for you both to doze off completely exhausted.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @dangerouslovefanfic @munteanhorewrites @shar74nett @xsweetdellzx @night-of-the-living-shred​ @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @areubeingserved @cxmfort  @littlepreciousangel @youremysuperstar @i-just-like-fanfics @k347 @storiestoldbyjazz @jovanaprime  @ramp-it-up @october505 @ukmkhan @liquorlaughslove @msblkfire84​ @live-laugh-love-ki​ @literaturefeen @winchwm​ @queenoftheworldisdead

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! pt.6

Sorry for being gone for so long, guys! Let's just say it has been one hell of a summer, Soap Opera even O_o; I hope this makes up for it ^_^;, don't forget to reblog and comment, my asks are open

“Ok, no one panic-”

“How can we not panic! You idiots banished Marley to oblivion!” Asmo shrieked at the top of his lungs.

Levi fumbled his phone as his brother’s voice pierced his ears, leaving him stumbling with shaky hands. Belphie looked on and sighed heavily at his bickering older brothers.

“Asmo, calm down, it’s not like she’s dead.” Belphie claimed.

“But she could be! I can’t believe you both can be so irresponsible!”

“Hey, shut it! If you aren’t going to help then stand still and keep your eyes open!” Levi snapped back as he got back on his knees, searching with his phone flashlight.

Satan stroked his chin as he watched Beel cautiously placed the table on the ground before going to another chair and lifting it carefully. Mammon, on the other hand, started chuckling underneath his breath, drawing the attention of his concerned brothers.

“And why are you laughing, scumbag!?” Levi hissed.

“Because while I made a killin’ at the races, you bastards completely messed up and the best part is there is no way I’m gonna get blamed for it.”

Mammon continued to snicker shamelessly as his brothers gave him stares full of disdain. However, a cold chill filled the room as Mammon felt a firm grip upon his shoulder. His laughter shrunk to a slow nervous chuckle as Lucifer appeared behind him.

“Exactly how are you blameless, Mammon?” Lucifer smiled as his grip tightened.

Mammon swallowed hard as he looked for his younger brothers for help, his silent pleas going unanswered.

“Oi, I didn’t even do anythin’ this time!!!” He pleaded.

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

“As expected, four inches tall.” Simeon claimed as he gently moved the ruler away from the diminished woman.

Marley just snorted as she crossed her arms and avoided eye contact with the towering angel who handed the wooden ruler to his young ward. Solomon crossed his arms and tilted his head in thought, even though deep down he wanted to break out in laughter. Sensing the mischief in the air, Marley’s temper snapped like a twig at the quiet Solomon.

“Well, don’t just sit there, magic man! Hurry up and fix me!” She growled.

Solomon snorted as her tiny voice rang like a gentle bell in his ears. Simeon just shook his head in disapproval while Luke looked on in awe at the little woman on the table.

“I can’t fix this with a spell, Marley. This was done by consumption, not incantation. Seriously, what did you think would happen when you ate Mini Candy with Hydra Blood Fizz?”

“I thought it was like soda and Pop Rocks! Why is food so weird here!?” Marley screamed as she jumped up and down.

“You really need to read warning labels down here, Marley. Remember how you almost ate Lunatic Pudding?” Simeon scolded lightly.

“It. Was. Pudding! Who does that to pudding!?”

Marley screamed before squatting down and gripping her hair with grumbling frustration. Her mind raced, wondering how she got into this mess in the first place. She just wanted a simple day of studying without anything going wrong but here she was, standing inches tall, surrounded by the Purgatory crew. Seeing her in distress, Luke offered his sympathy.

“Don’t worry, Marley, you’ll be ok. She’ll turn back to normal soon, right Solomon?”

Solomon grasped his chin gently.

“I don’t see why not but it depends how many candies she ate and how many sodas she drank. If it was only a few, she should turn back to normal soon. So, Marley, how much did you ingest?”

Marley looked away with her face darkened with embarrassment.

“Marley, how much?” Simeon parroted.

“...Half a bag and three bottles.”

Simeon blinked in disbelief while Solomon sighed heavily.

“Well looks like you’re going to be stuck like this for a while. I should probably message Lucifer to let him know what happened to you.” Simeon said as he pulled out his D.D.D.

Marley jumped to her feet and violently waved her arms in the air.

“DON’T! Anything but that!” She screamed.

“Why not? The brothers must be worried since you disappeared.”

Marley crossed her arms as her face turned grim.

“Yeah, and what do you think is going to happen when they get their hands on me? Especially behind closed doors?”

The room grew quiet as Marley’s statement rang deep within their minds. Solomon and Simeon’s faces turned red with embarrassment as the supposed scenario bloomed in their mindscapes. Luke, on the other hand, tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, what does that mean?” He asked bluntly.

“They’re going to bully her like a cat to a mouse.” Simeon answered quickly and sharply, hoping the young angel took the bait.

Luke gasped in shock while everyone else sighed in relief.

“I won’t let them bully you just because you’re small now! It’s not fair!”

Marley snorted out a laugh before smiling softly with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks, Luke. And thanks to you all for letting me stay here.”

“Don’t mention it. Besides, we can use this time to practice your casting and you being so small, we can practices spells and chants that need a lot of space, since your range has shrunken now.”

Solomon chuckled as Simeon motioned to Luke to follow him to so they could set the table for dinner. Marley snorted at him in retort before looking away in contempt. However, her attention was drawn with the table vibrated gently as the sorcerer rested his head upon his folded arms. He stared at her with his brown-blue eyes which caused Marley to radiate a defensive cold.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You’re covered in dust and lint. How did you end up so dirty?”

Marley looked away with a bit of shame on her face.

“I escaped through a hole in the couch I fell asleep on.”

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

Lucifer sighed heavily as he pressed his fingers against his temples. It’s been over three days since Marley disappeared from the common room and they have yet to find any sign of her. He never imagined that he would be on his knees for anyone but here he was, on them looking for the now diminutive Marley. He thought about using Cerberus but he was more of a guard dog than a bloodhound. He groaned quietly as he thought about his brothers’ asinine suggestions from using mousetraps to having a bunch of cats roam the house to scare her out. Surely, she would come out from hunger alone but he dashed that aside when he remembered she was a natural-born survivor. He got to his feet and sighed as he dusted himself off before going to his liquor wall. He picked up a bottle of Demonus and wondered if he could use the enticing liquid as bait to draw her out. However, he buried the thought as Satan and Belphie entered his office.

“Ok, she’s not in the planetarium.” Belphie reported.

“Or the music room.” Satan added.

“Alright, now go and search the kitchen again as well as the dining room.”

Belphie sighed in annoyance while Satan groaned in disgust.

“I don’t want to, I’ve already missed a lot of my napping windows because of this.”

“And I need to catch up on my reading. Don’t you think this would go faster if you punished Beel and Levi after we found her?”

“Not to mention you tied up Mammon too. They’re only four of us looking and we’re running on fumes.”

Lucifer crossed his arms as he heard his younger brothers complain to him with solid logic.

“Fine, go untie them and give them your searching assignments. But let Mammon hang for another hour or two.” He coldly smiled.

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

“I am so sorry, Marley.” Luke sniffled as he stared at the little selkie with watery eyes.

Marley just sighed heavily as she wrapped herself in her pelt. Simeon entered the room to see his protege whimpering for forgiveness from the tiny Marley.

“Wait, what’s wrong, Luke?” He asked out of concern.

Luke looked up at the kind angel as he gently opened his shaky hands revealing shreds of familiar-looking cloth.

“Um, is that Marley’s clothes? What happened?” He questioned softly.

Luke swallowed sharply, holding back his childish tears.

“I was trying to make Cloud Chess Pie and I got so into it, and...and- ”

Luke’s shoulders trembled as he tried to hold back his flood of emotion. Seeing this, Marley got up and drew Simeon’s attention to her so she could finish the tale.

“Yeah, I wanted a closer look but ended up slipping into the mixing bowl and almost ended up in the oven. Lucky for me, Luke noticed me in time before I became a baked good.”

“So that’s what happened. Luke, it’s ok, Marley isn’t mad at you.” Simeon claimed as he gave a gentle embrace to the upset angel.

“But that’s not it! She was covered in custard and I wanted to clean her clothes. I didn’t want them to get lost in the laundry so I tried to hand wash them, and-”

“-He used too much strength and my clothes ended up in shreds.” Marley sighed defeated.

“I see.” Simeon smiled as he hugged Luke, trying to calm him down.

“I’m not mad at Luke, he was only trying to help but now I have no clothes.”

“You don’t have any other clothes in your pelt?”

“I did, but those got ruined while practicing elemental spells with Solomon. So if anything, I’m mad at that jerk!”

“That’s harsh. I warned you if your mind is distracted, spells will backfire.” Solomon defended as he walked into the room.

Marley scowled at the tall sorcerer that smiled at her with his own brand of cheekiness.

“Don’t be such a smartass, I’ll blame you as much as I want.”

“Come on, Marley, that’s a bit much. Why don’t you wear your pelt?”

“I would rather have my pelt hidden so it doesn’t go up in flames again. You know, like when you told me to practice a fire incantation!?”

Solomon raised his hands in defeat as he took a seat at the table.

“Fine, you win. How do you want me to fix this?”

“Turn me back to normal size.”

“Quit that, you know I can’t do that. What if you ended up bigger than you’re supposed to be or you get even smaller?”

Marley just growled in annoyance at the smiling wizard who stared down at her. Solomon, on the other hand, sighed as he got up from the table and walked over to the decorated wall table.

“Don’t worry, I have a solution for this.” He claimed as he walked back to the table with a lightly colored rose in hand.

Marley scrunched up her nose at the flower that Solomon pointed at her with.

“You think giving me a flower is going to keep me from freezing your ears off in your sleep?” She barked.

Solomon just ignored her minor threat as his hair moved gently in a supernatural wind.

“Hear me, O threads of connections, weave your protective embrace around my pupil.”

As the words left his mouth, the petals gently plucked themselves off the stem and quietly surrounded the now on edge Marley. She swiped and tossed the petals away from her but her efforts were in vain as she was buried in a pile of flower petals. After much fighting, she finally was able to see as she dug herself out. There she stood, dressed in a makeshift strapless ball gown made entirely of rose petals as a final petal found itself on her head. While Marley gave an audible groan, Luke and Simeon looked on with surprise and wonder.

“Wow, Solomon, I didn’t know you could make clothes from flowers with your magic.”

“Actually, this spell was made with Asmo’s help. He went through a phase when he wanted to dress in flower petals but the minute he got hives, he wanted nothing to do with the idea. Either way, what do you think Marley? Does it suit your taste?”

Marley folded her arms.

“Yeah, if I was getting married! You think this is funny, don’t you!?”

“It’s not my fault. The spell lets the flower I use chose the shape and the fact I used a Rose of the Lady Moon, I’m assuming it has a bit of a royalty streak in it.”

“Ok, so which flower is the hoodie and shorts type?” She claimed plainly.

[artificialqueens]

Carousel (Taywhora) - Plegdoctor

A/N: Right, so fun fact about me, the first drag race fic I ever wrote was actually an Aquaria/Cracker one. It was going to be a high school au but I never ended up finishing it. I recently found it and reread it and found this one scene where they all go to the fair together. So this is a rewrite of a fic that never was! I've obviously had to change some bits to fit the UK2 girls but a lot of it is word for word what I wrote in that little notebook years ago. So yeah, enjoy!

--

Aurora shivered and wrapped her leather jacket tighter around herself. The cool air of the early winter night fluttered through her hair, threading the blonde strands into a tangle. Lights flashed around her, so bright that she could still see them when she closed her eyes.

Although it was cold, she was comfortable. Content. She could hear the music blaring from various rides and stands, the screams of children and the laughter of teens, the chattering of adults. The air was full of food, candyfloss sugar and savoury smells of greasy burgers and hotdogs that would leave her with a stomach ache for two days.

Best of all, the air was electric. There was an energy like no other fizzing across the atmosphere as she looked at her friends with a smile.

Lawrence had dragged Ellie onto the dodgems, despite desperate protestations from the taller girl. And then of course Lawrence had to challenge Tia to a duel of sorts on the damned things, so Tia had persuaded Veronica to go with her and prove the Scot wrong. She could see them now, Ellie’s blonde hair all over Lawrence’s shoulder as she squealed and cuddled into her.

She was going to miss this.

“Look at those two. Bloody disgusting.”

She didn’t even jump as the voice appeared beside her, the smooth Welsh accent already giving it’s owner away. She held her hand out expectantly, pleased when a bag of candyfloss was placed in it.

“They’re so lovesick. It’s cute. Talking of lovesick, where are Bim and Asttina?”

Tayce sighed. “I think they’re still googling whether candyfloss is vegan or not. I told Bims it was because it’s just sugar but they weren’t convinced.”

Aurora held back a giggle and shivered again. Tayce frowned slightly.

“You cold?”

“A little. I’ll be alright when we get moving again.”

“Right. Who’s winning this duel anyway?”

Aurora snorted. “Fuck knows babe, I’m pretty sure Tia and Lawrence have both committed various war crimes while Ellie and Veronica are just trying to stay alive.”

“Well I’ll warm you up while we wait.” Tayce said, slinging an arm around Aurora’s shoulders and pulling her in close. Aurora sighed and snuggled into her friend, her heartrate increasing with the close proximity. She could feel the soft material of Tayce’s coat, count her steady heartbeat, smell the mixture of her expensive floral perfume and the cheap sugar on her breath.

Aurora could’ve stayed there forever, getting drunk on Tayce’s touch.

“We might wanna go back on guys, we shouldn’t interrupt this sexual tension.” Her peace was cut short by a thick Scottish accent.

She sighed. Tayce simply laughed. “Wind your neck in Lozza, let’s not pretend you didn’t take Ellie on that ride just so she’d be pressed up against you.” She called out playfully, her grip not leaving Aurora’s shoulders.

“Get to fuck Tayce, as if I would lower my standards.” She replied, Ellie giving a little cry of indignation from where she was hanging off her arm.

“That’s not what you told me last night, hen.” She teased, the girls erupting into screams of laughter.

They stumbled through the fair together, arms linked as they all shouted along to the tacky music being played. Bimini and Asttina joined them eventually, Asttina carrying Bimini on her back to “give them the experience of being tall.” Eventually they came to a stop in front of the carousel where Ellie gave a gasp of delight and immediately begged them all to go on it.

They dug through their pockets for the £1 needed, handing it to the bored looking man. Ellie immediately found a pure white horse with a pink saddle and clambered onto it, pulling Lawrence up behind her. Bimini and Asttina chose a blue and grey one, while Veronica and Tia predictably end up on a horse with a green saddle.

Aurora circled the horses a few times, scrutinising them.

“It’s not a house you’re looking for Rory, just get on a horse.” Ellie yelled from where she was, Lawrence’s arms around her middle as her head rested on her fluffy pink jacket.

“Here, this one is good.” Tayce said from atop a black and gold one. She reached out a hand to Aurora who took it. She wrapped her arms around her, her head fitting perfectly in the crevice of her shoulder.

“You’re comfy.” She murmured into Tayce’s neck.

“Girls! Picture!” Tia called behind her, holding up her phone as they all smiled at the camera. Aurora’s eyes flicked to the side to see Tayce sticking her tongue out and threw her head back in laughter.

“Did you get my whole outfit in there, Tia?”

“Els, babe, I don’t know how I couldn’t, I’m surprised Lawrence managed to hold onto you.”

“Think you’ll find I’m very good at holding onto her.” Lawrence’s voice was muffled by the fur of Ellie’s jacket. Aurora giggled at Asttina’s fake retch.

“Hold on tight you hound.” Aurora obeyed Tayce’s whispered command immediately, lacing her fingers together over Tayce’s stomach as the music started and the ride started moving.

She wished the ride would never end, savouring the cries of joy from Tayce like they were her favourite sweet. A pang of jealously struck through her heart when she saw Tia in front of them, leaning down to drop a kiss on Veronica’s head that was resting on her chest. Briefly she caught eye contact with Tayce and ripped her eyes away, loosening her grip as a blush spread under her foundation.

“Why’ve you let go Rory? We can’t have you falling off and dying.” Tayce adjusted her hands to once again be tightly looped on her waist. Aurora momentarily stopped breathing.

They remained that way until the ride stopped and they all clambered down from their respective horses. Bimini was back on Asttina’s back while Tia tried to convince Veronica that she was strong enough to carry her like that. Veronica vehemently rejected the idea as Aurora laughed at her friends, her hand entwined with Tayce’s.

People have always told Aurora how brave she is. Brave to wear clashing patterns (yet still make them work), brave to be the first in her friendship group in year five to get the bus alone, brave to be able to talk to anyone. But she doesn’t believe them. If Aurora were as brave as people have told her she is, she would be able to tell Tayce about how she feels.

She has spent many nights curled up in bed, hugging a pillow to her chest as she imagines letting the words spill from her mouth and into Tayce’s heart. The scenarios all have different outcomes. Sometimes Tayce laughed. Harshly, cruelly, softly, disbelievingly. Sometimes she swept Aurora into her arms and dipped her down low, her long fingers curled into Aurora’s blonde hair as she desperately pressed their lips together. Sometimes she gently let Aurora down, promising that they could still be friends.

That one always hurt the worst.

Who would want to be just friends with the girl that they’ve been in love with for two years?

The question spins her head for the rest of the night, until they’ve moved on from the rides and the food and are hanging around the games.

“Maybe someone will win a goldfish.” She suggested idly, wrapped up with Bimini in Tia’s massive puffer jacket. Bimini shook their head from beside her.

“No one gets fish at fairs babe, that’s like an American thing innit.”

“Well how would I know, do I look American?”

“We’ve been coming here since year seven, you would’ve thought you’d learn by now.”

Aurora huffed, her breath coming out as a harsh mist. “I can live in hope that one day I’ll go home with a new pet that my mum can’t say no to.”

“Bold of you to assume you’d win a goldfish; you can barely hook a duck.” Tia called goadingly to her. Aurora rose immediately to the bait.

“I can so hook a duck! Come on slags, we’re going to the hook-a-duck!” Her battle cry rose into the air as she strode in the general direction of the stall, Bimini hopping to keep up.

It emerges that Tia is, unfortunately, right. Aurora is shit at hook-a-duck.

“How can you be bad at hooking a duck? They’re literally right in front of you.” Ellie wondered out loud, leaning on Lawrence as they watched three of their friends hanging over the wooden slats as they poked sticks at floating rubber ducks. Lawrence let out a bark of laughter, and Veronica on her other side spluttered.

“It’s not as easy as it fucking looks!” Aurora threw back, stretching her arm until her shoulder almost popped from its socket.

She pulled back, dejected, and turned around to admit defeat. “Alright Tia, you win this time.”

“You’re great at many things Aurora, but hand eye coordination is not one of them.” Tia replied calmly as Aurora rolled her eyes.

“It’s alright Rory. Look I won this for you.” Tayce pressed a doll into her hands as Aurora spun it in her hands, looking at it with interest. It had blonde hair like hers, done up in a bun the way she wore it all through year eight. It’s dress was green, leaf shaped, with matching wings in the back.

“Tinkerbell?”

“Yep. She reminds me of you.”

“Aww.’ Aurora flushed pink with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment at Tayce’s words. ‘Why, because I’m just as gorgeous as her?” She suggested, batting her eyelashes jokingly and curling herself around Tayce’s arm. Tayce looked down at her, a glint in her eye.

“Not exactly.”

“Well why then?”

Tayce’s laugh sent the butterflies in Aurora’s stomach insane. “Because she needs attention or she dies.”

“Oh piss off.” She giggled, nudging the taller girl with her hip as the rest of their friends laughed into the open night sky.

She stayed at Tayce’s side, the doll tucked into her bag.

The meandered further around the fair, stopping every now and then for any ride or games that struck their fancy. Their pockets grew lighter as pound coins disappeared, exchanged for screams of laughter and memories that will forever remind them of being young and free.

“You’ll have to tell her eventually.” Ellie said while they’re waiting for the others on the Helter Skelter, arms laden with coats. Aurora shook her head obstinately, her hair swishing down her back.

“Never.”

“You said you’d tell her when I told Loz! And look how happy we are together. Come on hen, you’ve got to take a chance.” Ellie whacked her with Bimini’s leopard print jacket as though to make a point and Aurora batted it away with a long-suffering sigh.

“We’re not like you and Lawrence, Els.”

“You could be though.”

She fixed her friend with a pointed glare, the effect rather ruined with the amount that she has to look up due to Ellie’s (frankly insane) height.

Ellie relented, looking away with a slight furrow in her brow. “Just do it tonight. Get her alone or something.”

Aurora snorted at the assumption that the pair would ever be alone at the fairground.

But, surely enough, the girls began to peel off one by one. More like two by two, it’s Noah’s bloody Ark over here Aurora thought, ignoring Asttina’s weird look when she snorted quietly to herself.

Tia and Veronica said goodbye first, walking off in the direction of Tia’s house with their arms slung around each other. Asttina and Bim were next, both shooting sly glances at Aurora that made her retreat into her jacket as she waved them off. Lawrence seemed ready to stay the entire night, until Ellie began loudly yawning, poking her girlfriend sharply in the ribs with her elbow. Eventually Lawrence got the point Ellie was trying to make (a point that Aurora will murder her for later) and the two sloped off, whispering and giggling. Aurora turned to Tayce with a bright smile plastered on her face.

“Do you want to stay for a bit?” She ventured. Tayce nodded. She linked her arm with Aurora’s, the simple gesture flooding her brain with serotonin.

They circled the fair, tired yet bright eyes looking out for anything they had missed. It seemed ridiculous to Aurora to expect that there was anything new. The fair hadn’t changed since they first went in Year Seven, eight nervous eleven- and twelve-year-olds with pounds in their pockets begged from their mums. Aurora could still remember everything from that night, fresh in her mind as if it had been yesterday.

She remembered the skirt she wore, black and way too short for her age. She remembered the music playing and the way it filled the air with a joy that she had never felt in her life before. She remembered Ellie getting scared at the top of the Helter Skelter and refusing to go down it without Lawrence holding her hand. She remembered the way Bimini had their hair, long crimped locks that frizzed up for at least the next week.

But, perhaps most importantly, she remembered Tayce. What she was wearing, how her hair looked, the brand of eyeliner that was haphazardly pencilled in her waterline. Her generosity in buying the whole group chips and burgers (aside from Bimini, of course, who only had chips). The way her breath curled into the cold air as she yelled encouragements to a trembling Ellie. That moment where she grabbed Aurora’s hand and Aurora felt something small yet inexplicable tug in her chest.

Sometimes she wished they could go back to those days of innocence. Of clumsy flirting and messy mascara. Before everyone coupled up like it was an episode of Love Island.

Before she realised she had a crush on her best friend.

“There’s nothing new here.”

Tayce’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to look at her friend who had a glint of disappointment in her eyes. She snorted and squeezed her arm.

“What did you expect? This place never changes.”

Tayce grinned, the trace of sadness gone from her eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I like about this place sometimes. It’s reliable.”

Aurora shook her head in mock despair. Tayce began walking purposefully, dragging Aurora behind her.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to go on the carousel again!”

“Oh my God my friend is a literal child. Did you have a good day at primary school?” She teased. Tayce screamed and whacked her.

“You bitch! I know that this is your favourite too, Rory, you can’t hide from me!”

It doesn’t take nearly as long to find a horse this time, and soon they’re in a familiar position, Aurora’s chin on Tayce’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss this place, Tayce.” She whispered. Her wavering voice betrayed her emotions. Tayce gently ran her thumb over her knuckles.

“Me too.’ She paused, turning her head around as if to take in everything she could. ‘Do you remember when we first came here?”

“Course I do. And we all went on the carousel and you laughed at me because I got my foot stuck and tripped as I was getting off.”

She clung on tighter as Tayce screeched. “Oh, I had almost forgotten about that! See, those are the kind of memories we’re going to take away.”

“What if we didn’t take them away?”

“Are you suggesting we stay here forever?”

“…maybe?”

“Aurora, you’ve been trying to get out of here for the past four years!”

“I know, it’s just,’ She sighed, her nostalgia coming out in a swirl of haze. ‘This is where we all consolidated our friendship.”

“We’ll come back for the fair.”

“Maybe for the first year. But then we’ll all get busy with life and degrees until it gets to the point where we look at old pictures and can’t even remember what year it was.”

“Nah, Bim’s shit hair dying skills have improved over the years, use their hair to judge the year.”

“Tayce-“

“I know, I know.”

They slipped into a brief silence, the background music still loud in their ears as they strained to memorise the notes.

Aurora wasn’t feeling brave.

But, even with her heart heavy from the feeling that this was the end of something, she found that she was happy.

Aurora spent hours looking in her Nan’s battered thesaurus, trying to find better words for ‘happy’ after her English teacher told her she needed a more varied vocabulary. But sometimes there was no other word to describe it. She was just simply happy when she was with Tayce.

“I’m going to miss you the most.” The words slipped out of her lips.

Tayce stiffened for a moment. Then she spoke.

“I’ll miss you the most too. Not just… as a friend. Even though you are my friend, it’s just,’ She twisted to look at her friend and laughed. ‘Don’t make me say this.”

“No, go on! I want to hear what you’re going to say!” Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

“I like you Rory. Not just as a friend. As more than a friend. And I wish I told you earlier so we could have more time together.”

Her heart stopped beating altogether as she let the new information seep into her brain.

Tayce liked her.

Tayce liked her as much as she liked her.

She pushed herself forwards slightly. Her arms still entwined around the other girl’s waist, her chest pressed against her back. Slowly, shyly, and in the least Aurora way known to man, she gently kissed Tayce’s smooth cheek.

“I like you too.’ She murmured into her ear. ‘More than friends. So much more than friends.”

“Oh my God.” Tayce said under her breath.

She twisted round until she was facing Aurora. Her long thin fingers found their way to Aurora’s face and then her hair as their lips met for the first time.

Aurora felt like all the electricity and magic of the fair was sucked from the air and contained entirely within her. She felt as if she might explode, every particle that made her up buzzing with joy as she clung to her best friend and kissed her like her life depended on it.

They pulled away when they felt the ride come to a stop. Aurora couldn’t breathe.

“Can we take a selfie?” Her cheeks are flushed as she speaks, embarrassed that this is the first thing to exit her mouth after finally admitting her love for Tayce after years of pining.

Tayce scrunched her nose. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I want to remember this forever. And never run the risk of forgetting.”

Tayce just laughed and kissed her again. And again. And again.

The next September, Aurora stands alone in a room. It’s technically hers, but it doesn’t feel like that yet. She slips on her headphones as she begins her task of decorating, hoping that when she’s done she won’t feel like she wants to cry anymore.

Just an hour later she slips her headphones off to do the last part in tranquil silence.

She’s methodical as she pins pictures to the board. Her family on one side, her friends on the other, with both of them mingling in the centre. She giggles as she tacks up the first group selfie they ever took, all squished on the ghost train that made Ellie scream bloody murder. She swears she can smell candyfloss and greasy burgers as she puts the rest of them up, revelling in the memories that flood her mind.

The group one from last year might be her favourite group one to date. Tia and Veronica at the front, smiling like they’ve won the life lottery as they curled together. Lawrence and Ellie cosily close, Lawrence playfully throwing a peace sign while Ellie stretched to make sure Tia got her whole outfit in. Bim and Asttina smirking, their eyes betraying the pure excitement that Aurora knows was within them.

Her and Tayce. Tayce’s pointed tongue stuck out cheekily that caused Aurora to throw her head back in the most genuine display of happiness ever captured on camera.

There was one final picture to put up. Although, it may have been a bit unnecessary. It was already her phone background, in a frame by her bed, and plastered all over her social media.

Slightly swollen lips, windswept hair, matching euphoric smiles.

Their first kiss, and the time that Aurora knew she would be in love with Tayce until the end of time.

It gets stuck right in the middle, pride of place.

Aurora takes a quick picture of the finished board. She sends it to the groupchat and flings herself onto her bed to read the rapid replies, her Tinkerbell doll cradled in the crook of her arm.

Basic <3: Omg!! That’s so cute, I love those pictures so much!

Loch Ness Bitch: are ya getting soppy already Rory, you’ve only been gone five minutes

Dirty D: Loz shut up it’s cute! All those memories <333

Sailor Vee: Ahh I can’t wait to go to the fair again this year. We’re defo all coming back, right?

Rude: Course we are Ronnie I wouldn’t miss it for the world

Vegan: Greasy chips on me, ladies x

Hound: I bloody hope so Bim, think you all still owe me from year 7

She’s happy. Aurora is happy as the groupchat descends into chaos, happy that they can still be like this while spread around the country. Her phone pings again.

Tayce: The carousel will always be there Rory. I’ll be waiting for you there x

She smiles as she taps out her reply.

Aurora: I love you so much <3

When she closes her eyes, Aurora can feel the cool winter air threading through her hair. She can smell the candyfloss sugar and savoury smells of greasy burgers and hotdogs that would leave her with a stomach ache for two days. She can hear the tacky tunes she loved to shout along too.

But best of all, she knows that in her heart, her love for Tayce is electric. It’s steady, reliable, and comforting.

Just like riding the carousel.

[kopikokun]

Spilled Drinks & Study Sessions༄ mark l.

↳ When you’re forced into a study session with your next door neighbour Mark, who also happens to be your academic rival in school, things go south very quickly.

pairing; mark lee x reader

genre; fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (more like friends, but anyway)

wordcount; 2503 words

author’s note; how the hell do you guys write e2l and make the transition so smooth? bro i could never. also, the header pic is different than what i normally do :/ it’s kinda eh, but i liked the picture so i had to do something with all that empty space

Request 26: Mark + “Oh, are you ticklish?” (73) + “Why are you naked?” (109)

— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧. | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬.

The animosity between you and Mark is intense and painstakingly obvious to everyone around you. Well, everyone besides your parents, you suppose. 

   “Can you stop being so loud? You’re distracting me,” you grumble, angrily flipping through your homework. 

   “Well, I’m sorry for breathing.” Mark rolls his eyes at you. “Would you rather I stop entirely instead and drop dead right here, right now?”

   “At least it would be quieter if you did.” You press your pen down harder, taking your rage out on your poor, innocent worksheet. If you’re going to blame anyone for the excruciating torture your homework is enduring, you’d blame Mark. Even if it technically isn’t his fault, you’d still pin the blame on him. 

   “What’re you gonna do with my body? You wouldn’t be able to lift me, I mean, you couldn’t even open that can of Coke.”

   Your cheeks grow warm, mentally replaying the image of a grinning Mark as he effortlessly opened your can of Coke, the soft hiss of its fizz taunting you. Mark had puffed up his chest triumphantly like he was some kind of hero. For crying out loud, he had only opened a can of Coke, not saved his country. It still bruised your pride though, having to ask for help from Mark, your sworn rival since middle school. Childish, you know, but you’re certain that Mark thinks of you as such too. 

   “Whatever,” you fumble for a name to call him, “nerd.” Mark snickers at you. “My fingers were just slippery.” He arches a brow, challenging you, and you scowl. “I wouldn’t be able to lift you because you’re heavy, fatass. Not because I’m weak.” You twirl a lock of your hair around your finger. “And look who’s talking, Mr. I-Can’t-Open-Doors.”

      Mark flushes crimson as he silently fumes. “That was because I was pushing the pull door!”

   “That’s even worse, Mark,” you tease, unable to suppress a smile. “Dumbass,” you mumble below your breath, enjoying the way Mark seethes.

   “You’re calling me a dumbass? If I remember correctly, I was the one who placed above you last term.” Mark haughtily flips a page in his workbook. “Which I think is why your parents want me to tutor you.”

   You throw a measly eraser shaving at Mark in rebuttal. “You know that’s not why I’m here!” Another shaving is thrown at Mark’s head, yet he doesn’t even look up at you. “In fact, your parents probably wanted me here so I could babysit you!”

   Neither you or Mark are right. Your parents just chucked you together because they thought that after all those years of living beside one another and having weekly dinners together, you two would be absolutely wonderful buddies, and you can’t fault them for assuming such a thing.

   Logically speaking, you and Mark are supposed to be the bestest of friends. As much as you dislike the word, it seems as if fate has decided that you two are meant for each other. Gross. 

   In almost every situation possible, you and dear Markie boy over here have been unwillingly strung together—from group projects, to assigned seats, you two just can’t get a break from one another.

   Your parents had innocently thought that having a little study session while they went out for a double date with Mark’s parents would be beneficial for you two. Perhaps even fun. Fun, your ass. 

   All those years spent with Mark hasn’t made you friends, no, it’s made you rivals.

   Yeah, so not sworn enemies, but what’s life without a little exaggeration?

   You’ve always been a bright kid, some would even go as far to say that you’re ‘gifted’, but you think ‘persevering’ is a better word to describe it. You weren’t just born naturally intelligent or outstandingly athletic, no, you’ve had to work hard, insanely hard, for that. It hadn’t been handed to you all nicely wrapped with a little bow to match, just for you to tear it open and take. You’ve had to tolerate and undergo several sleepless nights, and many agonising hours of training. 

   Up until middle school you were top of your class in all aspects. You were idolised (well, as idolised as you could be for a middle schooler anyway), loved and acknowledged. It had been blissful. 

   That was until, little Mark with that stupidly cute gleam in his eyes came along, skipping over to you in those worn-out track pants and smiling toothily as he introduced himself as your brand new next door neighbour.

   You have to admit, initially, you and him were close friends. You’d walk home together, sneak out to go to the convenience store together, share snacks together, the list goes on. You’d even given Mark your very first kiss, right on the cusp on your twelfth birthday. He didn’t know that it was your first kiss though, and he’ll never know. You’d rather be shot at point blank range than give up such private intel. 

   But when one day, in seventh grade, when Mark had begun closing in on you in rankings, outrunning you at the park and gradually being everyone’s new favourite, you found yourself isolated. Even one of your friends, a girl with straight long hair that fell past her waist, started hanging out with Mark more than with you.

   And when you invited her to your thirteenth birthday, the first thing she’d asked was, “Is Mark going to be there?”

   And at that same party, you saw her, kissing the boy you had been crushing on for the past year. And it looked like Mark really enjoyed kissing her too. More than he did with you.

   From that point on, you began to distance yourself from Mark. It was gradual, slow, but you knew Mark could tell. When he finally surpassed you academically too, you started harbouring a resentment towards him, and the rivalry between you two started.

   You were somewhat hoping he’d confront you, at least wonder why your attitude towards him had seemed to change in the blink of an eye, but he hadn’t. And that stung.

   Obviously rumours had circulated in middle school about what was going on between you two. Kids, no, people love to talk. And talk they did. 

   It had been widely known that you and Mark used to be inseparable at one point in time, and it was jarring seeing how differently you two were acting around each other.

   Mark and that friend of yours had broken up some time after that, and evidently she was pissed. It seemed as if she had begun spreading gossip about you, claiming that you had been some sort of psycho ex-girlfriend and that you had threatened Mark to break up with her, essentially, she was villainising you.

   When high school finally rolled around, Mark’s ex had moved by then—you weren’t sure where and you didn’t care to know. The rumours eventually died down with her absence, and you thought that maybe, just maybe, you and Mark could finally make amends, bury the hatchet, as one would say. But that never happened.

   Looking back, you’re a bit amused at what an eventful and dramatic childhood you had. All those scandals at just thirteen? What a boss bitch. Present you would not be able to stomach that.

   You take a peek at Mark. He’s attractive. Of course he is. He had been a cute kid, no doubt, but as he’s aged, he’s matured into his good looking features. He’s not the rugged and manly kind of good looking, he’s got more of a sweet boyish look to him, and in your opinion, it adds to his charm. 

   “What are you staring at?” 

   Shit, you’ve been caught. No, caught? It’s not like you were doing something you shouldn’t have. “Nothing.” You reach forward to take a sip from the infamous Coke can. It’s lukewarm, but you gulp it down regardless, trying to appear unfazed.

   “Were you checking me out?”

   Disaster strikes just as those words leave Mark’s lips. The putrid sensation of warm coke leaves your mouth entirely, not because you’ve begrudgingly swallowed it all, but because you’ve spit it out from the sheer shock of Mark’s question. 

   “Hey! What the fuck?” Mark stands from his chair across from you and its legs scrape against the floor with a sound that makes your skin crawl. 

   You cough and sputter, gasping for air. Once you’ve gotten past that tight feeling in your throat, you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A few droplets of the sugary drink dribble onto your shirt. But fortunately, well for you at least, you’re not as drenched in spit-laced Coke as Mark is. 

   “Shit!” You lift your gaze to look at Mark, who’s surprised, to say the least. 

   Mark takes a breath to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he clamps his mouth shut, opting to groan in annoyance instead. “Jesus, why’d you even do that?”

   Your face burns in embarrassment. No way you’re going to admit to him that you were checking him out. Sort of. “I don’t know, it just went down the wrong channel, I guess.”

   Mark’s lips form a thin line of dissatisfaction. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He cringes as his shirt sticks to him. “ I’m gonna go change.”

   He runs a hand through his hair, face upturned in frustration as he stomps up the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the living room. Your eyes follow his figure until he turns a left into his room. 

   You sigh. If you were home alone, you would have screamed in humiliation. The can of Coke on the table mocks you. You resist the urge to pick it up and hurl it into Mark’s neighbour’s backyard—well, your backyard. 

   A sliver of positivity presents itself in the form of you and Mark’s mostly unscathed worksheets. There are a few stray droplets here and there, but it’s barely noticeable. It would’ve been much worse for both Mark and you if you had drenched those as well. In fact, your homework wouldn’t be drenched in just saliva and Coke, but also in tears at that point. 

   You curse the can in your grasp, its aluminium smooth against your skin, before you dump it in the bin. Good riddance, bitch. 

   I should apologise. You can suck up your pride for that. No, this isn’t even about petty things like pride anymore. That shouldn’t matter. I should apologise, you think to yourself firmly.

   Alright. Apologising. Sorry. You inhale deeply, gathering your senses and calming your jittery nerves. Why are you even nervous? It’s not like you’re professing your undying love to him. Chill the fuck out.

   As you’re standing before Mark’s single, wooden door (which looks extremely daunting for some reason), it doesn’t dawn on you that perhaps you should knock first.

   If it had, then perhaps you wouldn’t be staring at a shirtless Mark, your hand still wrapped around his doorknob and your mouth hung agape.

   “Oh my God, Mark!” You cover your eyes, the door shutting behind you with a creak. You’re a bit ashamed at how fast your cheeks are overtaken by a hot, prickling feeling. “Why are you naked?”

   Mark, though just as startled as you are, has the common sense to reach blindly for the stained shirt he just took off, holding it in front of him. “What do you mean why am I naked? Why are you here?”

   You take a few steps back, your back pressed up against the door. “I- I came up here to say I’m sorry. You know, for uh, just now?”

   Your hands slowly fall to your sides as you burn holes into Mark’s carpeted floor with your eyes instead. 

   “Oh, uh, o-okay. Apology accepted, I guess.” Mark’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. “Let me just uhm—”

   You can hear his drawer sliding open and the faint rustle of fabric. All the while you keep your gaze glued to the floor, feeling your cheeks grow warmer by the second. Oh my God, you’re acting like a little girl who’s just held a boy’s hand for the first time.

   This isn’t the first time you’ve seen a guy naked—for fuck’s sake, Mark’s not even naked. He’s all covered up where he should be. Why is the sight of just his bare body from the waist up making your mind go blank and your palms grow sweaty? It’s not like you have feelings for him anymore. No, you don't.

   “You can uh, you can look up now.”

   You steel yourself, looking up to face Mark. Why did you have to steel yourself? It’s not like he’d have taken even more clothes off once you looked up again. You feel like slamming your head into the wall.

   You fiddle with your fingers, searching for something to say to try and ease the tension. “Uh, sorry. For spilling that Coke all over you, I mean.” You scratch the nape of your neck. “And for you know, walking in on you changing.”

   “Why didn’t you leave?”

   Your shoulders slump. “Huh?”

   Mark chuckles confidently, like he’s unabashed. His cheeks are ablaze with colour, though. “I mean, why didn’t you just back out of the room when you walked in on me changing? Why’d you just stand there?”

   You blink at him. Why didn’t you just leave? “I- I froze up, okay? Don’t bully me!” Your ears are burning.

   “Yeah, okay, okay.” Mark raises his hands by his sides, that entertained smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s go back down, okay? I still need to finish my work.”

   You chew on your inner cheek. “Yeah, whatever,” you try to find a creative name to call him.

   “Yeah, I know. Nerd.” Mark raises his brows at you, still with that amused grin. You wish you could smack it right off his stupidly handsome face.

   You huff, turning on your heel and practically booking it to the stairs. Mark catches up to you in no time with long, languid strides. Stupid long ass legs.

   “Hey, wait up, loser,” he says, a hint of delight in his voice. He pokes your side and you jump, shoving his hand away and mustering a weak glare at him. “Oh, are you ticklish?”

   You gnaw on your bottom lip. “No, I’m not, fatass!” Despite your harsh tone, your cheeks deceive you, blossoming with warmth yet again.

   Mark smiles genuinely this time, although there’s no sarcastic edge to it whatsoever. “You getting shy?”

   “No, I’m not.”

   “Hey, don’t be upset!” The next thing Mark says is nearly incomprehensible, but you hear it. Oh, you definitely do.

   “You look cute.”

   Your head swivels to look back at Mark, and you realise that he hadn’t meant for you to hear that.

   The faintest of smiles teases your lips, before you turn away, denying him the satisfaction of seeing you break out into a grin. “Yeah, whatever, Mark.”

   Now, it’s Mark’s turn to be enveloped in heat as a red tint spreads across his cheeks.

[ambrial-blog]

Love is complexed. Blitzo is fighting his inner demons.

His inner demons are unwilling to let Blitzo wake up to fight against the agents who kidnapped him.

They appear to gather around the long, winding staircase, not allowing Blitzo to ascend as they stood their ground against an idolized version of Stolas. Whose manacled golden chain comes to clasp around his neck.

Long after Dealing with the agents of D.O.R.H.K.S, Moxie and the gang bring Blitzo to the human world hospital hoping to wake him. It was their only option. Stolas carries the crimson Imp into the hospital. His eyes are glowing red. He is inconsolable and fueled with murderous rage.   he made sure the Blitz was comfortable in the hospital bed, he disappears out the window,  for once not caring about his status as he went on a murderous rampage, cutting anyone down who looks at him twice.  Searching for the remaining two cooky agents he had thought nothing of -but now, was the only thing he could think of.  Unsure of how he could help, his little Imp.

With the help of Stella, Striker appears at the hospital. Nightfall. He sneaks past Millie and Moxie, who were curled up on a couch waiting for news about their boss.  And is halted by a night nurse, who asks if he would like to see him, unwilling to turn him away.  Believing Striker to be his husband from the pictures of the harvest moon festival she saw when she seized the patient’s wallet to get to know him better.

Loony stiffens upon seeing the snake imp approach. He aims the gun at her head.  as Loony growls, her body covering Blitz. Striker’s arm moves back to his side. gritting his teeth. knowing something like this would happen.

The Cowboy talks to Blitz, surprising the hellhound. As the nightmare version digs his claws into Blitz. Striker is by his side, stroking his hand with his thumb.

Loony growls as Striker disconnects the machines. Lifting Blitzo into his arms, he walks out of the room; Only to be thrown into the wall by a well-placed roundhouse kick by Loony.

They don’t have what he needs here growls the Cowboy. Aiming his gun and firing. Loony dodges and the wrangler keeps firing his arms, tightening around the boss.

A bullet buries itself into Loony’s leg, embedding into her. She howls in pain. As Striker gets up, kicking her in the face. He points the blessed revolver at her face, a snarl pulling at his lips.

Blitzo's body jerks, but he cannot wake up.

There are tears in his eyes. But no matter how hard he tries. They keep dragging him further and further away into a muddy nightmare.

Fizzuroli has him wrapped up in his expandable arms.

No one will ever love you like I love you, BlitzO!

Verosika has a vice-like grasp over his hips, her head over his chest.

“Why do you push away the ones you love, BlitzO! I LOVED YOU, BLITZ-O!

. A dark chuckle emits from somewhere behind him as Striker appears; his hand caresses the back of his horn. Shudder races down his back Striker stood behind him as a golden manacled chain tugs at his neck. The owl Prince winds it around his clenched fists.

But is stopped by three entities unwilling to let go.

Willing to fight for what was theirs.

“You filthy blue blood, he ain’t going anywhere with you, he is staying here, this is where he belongs growls Striker. Draping an arm around Blitzo’s shoulders.

“You need to wake up Blitzy. This is all a hallucination. Speaks Stolas.

Your daughter is in trouble, my little Imp.

Striker wiped the blood from his pistol.

Loony was lying in a puddle of her own blood.

A bullet buried deep in her side.

Her body shakes and quivers as her lifeblood spills onto the floor.

She sees her father.  

Fear swells in her gut as she claws at the floor, dragging her limp body towards her comatose Imp.  Striker stood over him with a dripping syringe.

“What did you do! She accused, blood dripping from her mouth. As she crawls across the boss imp to protect him.

He has a fighting chance to wake up. What the fuck did you just give him? she gargled.

There was something different about this Striker, something terrifyingly nightmarish.

You’re going to go through me to get to him, she growls, rising to her feet. Standing over Blitzo, she let her chain blade fall and clank to the ground, a vicious snarl on her lips.

You’ll get him over my dead body!

Striker’s eyes widened in surprise as she brought her weapon down. He moves to the side, whips his tail. She snaps her jaws at the long appendage throws him into the door.

Striker buries the nuzzle of his gun into Blitzo’s side, stopping Loona in her tracks.

This ends now, little girl, he growls, his eyes swirling with insanity- so long as he is fighting- in here he taps Blitzo’s head-. he  still has a fighting chance out here.  

but this place is unsettling.

I’m taking him back to wrath, finding that Grimoire and shredding its pages through the nine rings of hell! But you had to fight me on this. Blitz isn’t yours- he is ours. The floor moved out from underneath her.  As The walls warped and ooze mud; the hospital crumbling away before her eyes.

And that’s when Loony saw him- dressed in his boss’ attire.

Blitzo- twisted in Fizzourli’s arms.  Verosika Mayday, clinging to his hips a hand resting in his open shirt. While Striker’s face buried into the crook of his neck, his teeth scraping across candy apple flesh.  A golden manacled chain around his neck.

Blitzo can’t turn away, feeling Striker slide a knee between his legs. A bloody throne.

Twisted and bent owl feathers lay scattered across the floor.

Blitzo cannot look at his daughter. His eyes are glued onto the horrific scene of molted feathers and the mutilated body of Prince Stolas.  

Who was unsuccessful in waking his little Imp.

A bullet whizzes in the air Verosika screams as it buries itself into her spine. The succubus’s hands slip away as Fizzourli’s grip tightens.

From the lurking shadows, a tail fizzes as a pair of glowing green eyes pierce right through him.

Loony stumbles back, clutching her side, as a burning pain rips through her body and drops to her knees.

This was too much, too fast.

Her head twisted back and forth.

There were two of them, but one was from the hospital. Which one did  Loony need to take down?

Striker’s tail coils sliding up Blitzo’s shirt, rubbing at his chest. Blitz gasps, falling to his knees as Fizzourli’s slid down his pants, twisting around his upper thigh. Blitzo bows his head, trying to catching his breath. His body burns as the Outlaw’s clawed hand reaches up to cover his eyes.

Fizzouroli’s hand caresses his chest as he takes Verosika’s place.

Another bullet rips from the looming shadows. Ricocheting off the stairs, followed by a fizzing sound of a rattler as it pierces the heart on Fizzouroli’s head, the jester crumples to the ground. His arms, spiraling outwards, lay limp at his side. A smoldering hole in his head.

Blitzo fights, his mouth running dry as Fizzourli’s tail slides out of his pants, the dead jester’s eyes staring back at him, laughing maniacally.

His mouth opens as Striker’s tail coils around his neck.

Brown mud swirls splattering across Blitzo’s face. His clawed hand digs into his chest. As Striker uses Blitz like a shield.

His voice is a high-pitched parody of the Cowboy.

The rogue could feel Blitzo’s heartbeat pound against the palm of his hand.

His face a wild expression as he sees the steely green gaze of the Original Striker poised, his deadly weapon aimed at the distorted version of himself.

“it’s time to wake up, Blitz.”

“There is nothing here, that isn’t me who holds you.” Striker shouts, missing his hellish twin by a hair.

The golden chains and the manacle that kept him in place disappear.   Only to be replaced by a dirty rope as the hallucination sinks back, twisting the rope with a sardonic smile on his face.

He’s right, you know, came the roughed up voice of Blitzo: his throat burning after being unable to speak.

A muddy portal drips.

Everyone knows where it leads.

A skewed version of Millie’s farm.

Distorted figures of Millie’s family members.

He grips Striker’s tail. But the snake Imp just flicks him up into the air, firing his gun at both Loony and himself before catching Blitzo and holding him up by the neck. He squeezes him, drawing him tight against his body.

“Your nothing but tangible fear, a single fear! He chokes at the Hallucination screams at him, claws digging deep he drags Blitz: the boss, Imp’s body, is covered by mud as he is pushed closer to the portal.

“Your Nothing! Blitz shouts, wiping the mud from his mouth.

This world isn’t real. It’s all in my head!

The Outlaw draws closer to his double.

“Keep it up, Darlin, and I’ll have you home by morning light.”

Blitz screams as the hallucination covers his mouth, twisting the rope around his jaws.

The only being to hold any sway over this world. His tail tightens as he presses Blitzo into the portal. His claws are scraping like mad.

Loony leaps off the ground, tackling the two to the ground, Blitzo groans in pain as Striker hisses. Loony grips Striker by the vest; snarling, she grips his throat and lifts him into the air.

The Nightmare’s tail tightens around Blitzo’s throat.

Release me, hellhound, or your master dies.

Blitzo claws at the tail around his neck. The rope tight across his mouth.

Blitzo drops to the ground as the hallucination whips Loony across the face.

Sending her across the muddy plains.

The Outlaw is beside him, wiping the mud from his face. Blitz looks into his face, humiliation dripping off his body.

The jingle of spurs draws closer as Striker shields Blitz.

He had to keep him away from the portal.

Help me stand! Calls Blitz, trying to move. The only way I see us getting out of this is if I stand and face him.

The surrrealness  of the moment is not lost to him.

Striker clenched his jaw as his own tail, wraps around his neck.

His body is hoisted off the ground, his eye is snapped shut as he got sprayed in the face by mud.

His arm quivers and shakes as he aims the gun at himself.

But the other, with a twist of his tail, causes Striker’s weapon to fall to muddy ground.

Striker sinks his claws into the pale tail. Before being whipped across the air and into the mud, to land next to Loony, who was wiping the mud from her muzzle.

——-

The Cowboy’s tail lashes out, slapping Blitzo to the ground before winding around his throat. He drags the Imp through the murky mud, and with mud dripping off his body, his tail fizzing like mad.

His eyes are swirling, hypnotic spirals, his fangs snap with venom.

Unwilling to release his victim.

Your nothing! Blitz snaps, nothing real Blitzo chokes.

His eyes are tearing as Striker’s hand replaces his tail.

His tail cracks Blitz across the back.

Striker pulls Blitz taut against him, his hand resting on his hip as he grinds into his ass.

Silence! I am better than anything here, and that includes you, Blitzy!.

I am addicted to your body; Stolas’s little plaything has just gotten a new master. And I want to break you, like breaking the spirit of a wild horse. I’ll ride you like a bronco into submission.

You're not even the real Striker! Blitz hisses. As the hallucination gave a sharp thrust, causing Blitzo knees to buckle.

You're telling me you’d prefer a treacherous snake over a wet dream, like me! The hallucination growls, grabbing his tail. Blitzo coils his tail around his wrist. as Striker unbuckles his pants.

Needing to subdue Blitz,.

Blitzo's eyes widened as he tries to make his escape, but the wrangler twists his fingers in Blitzo’s tail, pulling the Boss imp to him. Blitz snaps his tail, throwing mud in his eyes. He could feel himself being impaled from behind as Striker’s tail wraps around his waist. The thrusts were deep and penetrating as Blitzo chokes on his own tongue..

His face was pressed into the mud as he was made to take in a lungful. His body writhes, his legs curl. as pain twist and tears through his body. A tail cracks against the mud, Blitzo claws at the mud, snarling at the grinning snake imp above.

He could feel the pressure build as the sounds of a pair of spurs approach.

The Cowboy, the original Striker, appears behind the distracted rogue, covered in blood and dirt.

One eye was bleeding, snapped shut. A snarl on his face. As he listens to Blitz cough up mud. Blitz cries out, feeling his hot seed enter his body. His stomach coils in repulsion As Striker bite down on his neck rutting.

The Cowboy cocks his handgun back, with a look of disgust and murderous intent

Repeat it with more conviction, Sugar

This NIGHTMARE IS OVER!

Bang!