#trying not to get too stressed up about it

[heavensoutofsight]

tension and release | b.e.

synopsis: you and billie share an intimate bath as a way of de-stressing after a long day.

tags/warnings: established relationship, sharing a bath, romance, fluff, implied sexual content

word count: 1,653

author's note: just an idea that's been festering around in my mind please enjoyyyy. notes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

The second you arrived home, you wasted no time in ridding yourself of your work clothes, opting to lounge comfortably in a cozy robe as you watched the bathtub fill with warm water.

You didn't often take baths; showers were quick and efficient and normally you preferred them. But with the holiday season came insurmountable levels of stress that began piling up, weighing on you like heavy sandbags. You weren't just affected by your hectic work life mentally but also physically, as your stress often manifested in stomach aches and a sore body from how tense you were all the time. Simply put, you were feeling extremely overworked, and a hot bath was just screaming your name.

At some point, while you were sitting at the edge of the tub, watching the water rise and adding generous amounts of soap, Billie's dog, Shark, decided to trot into the bathroom with you, his cold nose poking your hand.

You smiled at him, giving him gentle head pats. It was almost as if Shark could sense that you weren't feeling great and came to comfort you.

Eventually, the bath was ready, and it had plenty of bubbles and was the perfect temperature. You grabbed your phone from the pocket of your robe and immediately began browsing through Spotify, searching through your long list of different playlists and trying to decide which one would fit the mood best. While you were doing this, that's when your lovely girlfriend made an appearance. Shark quickly ran out of the bathroom to greet her, and with an airy laugh, you followed the pit bull with the same level of enthusiasm.

When you exited the bathroom you were met with the sight of Billie kneeling on the ground, hugging Shark tightly and showering him in kisses. You watched the scene before you unfold with fondness in your eyes, chuckling to yourself at the way Shark mercilessly locked Billie's face.

You briefly made eye contact with Billie while she was in the middle of her show of affection, and the grin on your face only widened.

“Okay, Shark– I missed you too, but somebody else deserves some love, too.” Billie said as if Shark could understand anything. She gently had to push him off, not before giving him one last kiss, and then she was quickly making her way to you.

She crossed the distance in just a few seconds, wrapping her arms around you and giving you the same treatment, her lips covering every inch of your face. You were laughing the whole time, holding her close. When she pulled away, she was gazing into your eyes lovingly, her hands still lightly squeezing your waist.

“Hey, mama.” She said with a wide smile.

“Hi,” you replied, sporting the same lovesick expression. “How was your day, baby?” You asked her, curiously.

“Productive. Finneas and I actually worked on a few songs.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise at that. “Working on new songs already?” You inquired excitedly. You loved hearing about any new music Billie was working on because it meant you'd eventually get to hear early versions of it, and it always made you feel extremely special to listen to her creations long before anyone else had the chance to.

“Yeah, well, surprisingly, I was just suddenly feeling really inspired and I just had to take advantage of that feeling while it lasted. We were kinda on a roll with ideas. It was nice.” She replied, grinning as she thought back to her time spent with her brother just moments prior.

“That's really nice, Bils. I can't wait to hear what you've got so far.”

“And I can't wait to show you. I've already got some snippets for you to hear.” She said, leaning in close, whispering those last few words against your lips before giving you a cute peck. It was an innocent, chaste kiss, until she leaned in again and gave you one that was a bit deeper, her lips slotting against yours perfectly like a puzzle piece. She has pulled you impossibly closer against her body at this point, her hands roaming a bit lower, shamelessly feeling you up (and of course, you shamelessly enjoyed it).

Billie again was the first to pull away after a couple minutes had passed. She quickly gave your body a look up and down.

“You look fucking adorable in this robe– wait, is that mine?” She asked, inspecting the fabric closely. You chuckled.

“Maybe,” you said mischievously, sporting a sly grin. “But I know you love it.”

“I absolutely do,” Billie replied with a smirk, leaning in to kiss you again. You reciprocated the kiss, but didn't let it go on for too long– although you wanted to, you quickly remembered that the water in your bathtub was cooling down and you wanted to get in there while it was still hot.

Reluctantly, you pulled away this time, your hands moving from the nape of Billie's neck to holding her hands. You absentmindedly played with the rings that adorned her fingers.

“As much as I love it when you kiss me senseless, there's a hot bubble bath calling my name.” You said. Billie simply bit her bottom lip in response, giving you a knowing look.

“You wouldn't mind if I joined you, hm?” She asked, but she didn't even have to pose the question, as you had already made up your mind.

You were already pulling her to the bathroom when you replied, “Please join me.”

The both of you entered the bathroom, Billie closing the door once she was inside. You didn't waste a second in taking off your robe, lazily letting it fall off your shoulders. You didn't immediately get in though, turning around to face Billie, whose eyes were very obviously glancing elsewhere.

“Your turn.” You said playfully, and Billie happily obliged, removing her baggy jeans and oversized shirt. She folded them neatly, placing them on the counter, her rings placed on top. You were shamelessly ogling as well, admiring her beautiful body and appreciating every dip and curve.

When she was fully undressed, you stepped aside to let her get in first. When she slowly lowered herself into the water, you could visibly see her expression relax, her eyes fluttering shut as the heat from the water encompassed her.

“Fuck.” She cursed, letting out a few other small sounds of pleasure that made your cheeks hot.

“The temperature is good?”

“It's perfect, baby,” Billie replied, glancing up at you. “Get your pretty ass in here.”

At that, you giggled, following her instruction and joining her in the water.

You had a similar reaction, the warm water immediately soothing your tense muscles. You fit perfectly between Billie's legs, your back laying against her chest. In this position, you could rest your head on her shoulder, giving Billie access to the most sensitive spots on your neck, which she was quick to begin peppering in kisses.

You sighed in contentment, focusing on the feeling of the hot water and Billie's lips on your neck. You hadn't felt this relaxed in a while, and you were savoring every second.

“Baby, I'm so sorry,” Billie mumbled, still lazily kissing your skin. Your eyebrows furrowed, perplexed at her sudden apology.

“For what?” You replied, your words just slightly slurring together as you already began feeling tiredness overcome you.

“I didn't ask you how your day was,” she said. “Tell me all about it, my love.”

You scoffed. “My day was boring and uneventful, like always. Definitely not as interesting as anything you've got going on.” You replied earnestly.

“If it's coming from you, it's always interesting.” She responded warmly, lazily tracing patterns into your skin underneath the water. You smiled at her words, your eyes closing as you reveled in the sensation of the softness of her body beneath you, feeling her chest rise and fall with her breaths.

For the remaining couple of hours, you and Billie had brief moments where you'd talk about whatever entered each other's minds, and other moments where you two would simply sit in comfortable silence. Sometimes, Billie would begin humming or quietly singing, her voice sweet as honey, her lips just barely brushing against your ear. You had also switched positions at some point, with Billie on one end and you on the other, legs tangling together in the middle.

Sadly, the water did start to get a little cold, and you were the first to notice.

“Billie.” You softly called her name, noticing that her eyes were closed and she had seemed to doze off. You held back your chuckles, nudging her a bit.

“Billie. Baby. My angel.” You tried again. Billie's eyes opened for a split second.

“Hm?” She said sleepily, and your heart warmed at the endearing sight before you.

“Water's cold. Let's dry off, yeah?” You said. Billie grinned, slowly nodding, still shaking off sleep.

“Okay, mama.”

The two of you got out and dried yourselves with towels, the both of you making your own towel dresses and heading to your shared bedroom, where you just laid in bed, feeling slight chills from the cool air. Of course, the both of you were cuddled up together, basking in the relaxing silence. The towels didn't really stay on, and at some point, you both ditched them altogether, the skin-to-skin contact feeling much better anyway.

You both were pretty much keeping your hands still until your lips found each other again, the two of you sleepily making out with a newfound passion. It wasn't long until Billie had you on your back, kissing down your body

“Billie,” you half spoke, half whined. “Don't you wanna nap?” You asked, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Billie just looked at you with a hungry stare, her head already situated in the place you wanted her most.

“You're gonna nap real good when I'm done with you, mama.”

[mononijikayu]

kinikilig — itadori yuji.

“Ugh, they’re driving me crazy!" Yuuji groaned, flopping dramatically onto the dorm couch. He had dragged Megumi and Nobara into his ordeal, much to their dismay. “You’re driving us crazy, Itadori.” Nobara shot back, arms crossed as she glared at him. “Do you realize how many times you’ve ranted about this today?” “But I’m serious!" Yuuji sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Every time I try to ask them what they want, I get all... I don’t know, flustered. And then I just start staring at them instead of saying anything. And then they make a joke, and I laugh, and—" He buried his face in his hands. “I just really love them, okay?!”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Safe For Work (SFW), Post-Canon, Christmas, Aged Up Characters (Yuuji and Reader are 18+), Fluff, Young Love, Dating, Relationships, Romance, Pet Names (Babe, Yuu-chan, etc), Established Relationship, Teasing, Minor Drama, Feelings, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Pining, Holding Hands, Doubt, Profanity, Nanami and His Wife Cameo, Itafushikugi Sibling Coded;

WORD COUNT: 4.6k words.

NOTE: i promised to write this because there was a huge need to yuuji content. posting this for you @rreveurdoll as much as this is for me. and since it is christmas eve (still day time) in asia, i might as well post this since i will be sleeping for a bit!!! i hope everyone is well and happy this holiday. i'll be posting a christmas art everyone is welcome to enjoy and print out as a card or sticker. happy holidays to everyone!!! i love you!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

kilig (adjective) — "exhilarated by an exciting or romantic experience"; such feeling can be something as idiomatic as saying, "hey, i'm feeling butterflies in my stomach for you!" or next best thing to that which is "i'm genuinely feeling excited!"

“SHIT!” — THOSE WERE THE WORDS HE ENDED UP SAYING, EVEN WHEN HE DIDN’T MEAN TO. But the word echoed louder than Itadori Yuuji intended, startling an elderly woman walking past him on the crowded street. He winced and muttered an apologetic “Sorry!"under his breath, clutching the shopping bags in his hands a little tighter.

Itadori Yuuji wasn’t one to curse out loud. He prided himself on his optimism and his ability to keep things light-hearted even in the most stressful situations. But this? This was different. This time, Yuuji felt the situation demanded it. Because at this rate, he was setting himself up for failure.

He groaned, running a hand through his messy pink hair as he stood frozen in the middle of the bustling holiday crowd. Glittering lights adorned the storefronts, garlands hung in perfect loops above doorways.

And the faint melody of carolers blended with the hum of city life. The festive energy was palpable, but none of it helped ease the knot tightening in Yuuji’s stomach. How could it? This situation is driving him to a cliff of endless worries he doesn't want to end up in.

It was lovely Christmas time once more. You loved it as much as he did. It was the season of cheer, joy, and giving; it had everything and more! And the Tokyo streets buzzed with life for it. People rushed by with shopping bags brimming with carefully chosen gifts, their faces alight with excitement and satisfaction. It felt like everyone had their holiday plans perfectly in order.

Everyone except Itadori Yuuji.

This year was supposed to be special. It was his first Christmas with you as his lover, and he wanted everything to be perfect. Scratch that—he needed it to be perfect. You were his whole world, his everything, and this gift needed to show you just how much you meant to him.

But the harder he tried, the more overwhelmed he became. He’d scoured countless stores, browsed endless online listings, and spent hours walking in circles around the mall. Yet no matter where he looked, nothing felt right. Everything he picked up seemed too small, too impersonal, or just not enough.

It wasn’t that Yuuji didn’t know you. He knew the little things that made you happy. The way your bright eyes lit up at the sight of something sweet, how your laugh always started with a soft giggle before it burst into pure, unrestrained joy. He knew your favorite colors, your favorite snacks, and the way you always hummed under your breath when you were lost in thought.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because knowing you so well only made him want to give you something truly extraordinary. Something that could somehow capture just how much he adored you. But every time he thought about it, his mind short-circuited, overwhelmed by a love that was too big for words—or holiday gifts.

“Ugh, what am I going to do?" Yuuji muttered, dragging himself into yet another store. The cheerful holiday music playing in the background did nothing to soothe his nerves as he wandered aimlessly past rows of glittering ornaments and festive knick-knacks.

If he didn’t figure this out soon, he’d end up empty-handed on Christmas morning. And that, to him, was simply unacceptable. The thing was, Yuuji wasn’t bad at shopping. He’d always been good at it. Grandpa Wasuke said so! In fact, the act of searching was easy. He had a good eye for thoughtful details and a knack for picking up on what people might enjoy. 

Over the past few weeks, he had ventured into dozens of stores, scrutinizing shelves of trinkets, clothes, and gadgets. He’d spent hours scrolling through endless online listings, carefully reading reviews and comparing options. He’d even braved the chaos of the mall during the holiday rush, weaving through crowds with a determination that rivaled a seasoned shopper.

He wasn’t just browsing aimlessly, either. Yuuji took his mission seriously. As serious as he would be a real sorcerer’s mission. If anything, he’d go on and on even longer than at his missions. Because you deserve nothing but the best. He knew that much. He was going to make sure you get the best and only the best from him. His love was premium. Shouldn’t his gift to you be like that too?

He’d lingered in the holiday gift section, picking up items and putting them back down, imagining how you might react to each one. Would this make you laugh? Would that make your eyes sparkle with excitement? He spent so much time in one store that an employee asked if he needed help—or if he was lost.

The problem wasn’t the act of searching; it was what happened after.

Every time he thought about what you might like, his brain short-circuited. It wasn’t that he didn’t know you well enough. Quite the opposite. Itadori Yuuji adored you. He knew the little things that brought you joy: how your hands curled around a warm mug on chilly mornings, the soft sigh of contentment that followed. 

The way your beautiful eyes just lit up, full of passion, whenever you talked about something you loved. The way you had a talent for making the most ordinary days feel extraordinary, whether it was through your humor, your kindness, or just the way you smiled at him like he was your whole world.

And that was the problem.

Because every time Yuuji tries to take the logical next step about it all, he always seems to fail. When he thinks about asking you what you might want for Christmas—he’d freeze. Completely and utterly freeze. 

His chest would tighten, his heart would hammer, and he’d lose his words altogether. He’d open his mouth to ask, only to get distracted by how cute you looked while you were busy doing something entirely unrelated.

It wasn’t just love. No, he was sure. It was more than that. Love is not enough to describe how much he loves you. It was the kind of love that left him lightheaded, giddy, and absurdly incapable of functioning like a normal person. Yuuji wasn’t just in love with you; he was ridiculously, overwhelmingly, head-over-heels in love.

And that made everything infinitely harder.

He couldn’t even concentrate when he was around you. Instead of asking what you wanted, he’d catch himself staring, marveling at the way you furrowed your brow while concentrating or how your laughter could turn his worst days into his best. When you cracked a joke (sometimes funny, sometimes not), Yuuji laughed anyway, not because of the joke but because it came from you.

Every time he thought about asking again, he found that the words got stuck in his throat, replaced by a flood of affection he didn’t know how to articulate. He would be a bumbling mess. And you would get worried and ask him if he was okay. But he would babble that he was okay. But he can’t help that either. How could he even begin to express how much you meant to him?

And so, instead of making progress, Yuuji found himself stuck in a loop of adoration and frustration. He’d groan and mutter to himself, pacing his room or staring at the ceiling late at night, wondering how something as simple as picking a Christmas gift could become so complicated. 

When did things get complicated? When did things get hard? Everything about this was ruining his ability to think straight. And that wasn’t your fault. It never will be, no. It was his inadequacies as your lover. He was sure of that. He once more groans, earning the looks of his classmates.

“Ugh, they’re driving me crazy!" Yuuji groaned, flopping dramatically onto the dorm couch. He had dragged Megumi and Nobara into his ordeal, much to their dismay.

“You’re driving us crazy, Itadori.” Nobara shot back, arms crossed as she glared at him. “Do you realize how many times you’ve ranted about this today?”

“But I’m serious!" Yuuji sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “Every time I try to ask them what they want, I get all... I don’t know, flustered. And then I just start staring at them instead of saying anything. And then they make a joke, and I laugh, and—" He buried his face in his hands. “I just really love them, okay?!”

Megumi, sitting with a book in hand, sighed heavily. “We know. You’ve said it a hundred times.”

“But do you understand how hard it is?!" Yuuji looked at them, his warm eyes wide and desperate. “Like, they’re so amazing. And cute. And funny. Like, even when their jokes aren’t funny! I can’t help it! I laugh anyway because I just... I love them so much! And I just, grrrr! Why can’t I do this right?”

Nobara threw a pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. “You’re ridiculous. Just ask them already!”

“I tried! But every time I think about asking, I get all red and tongue-tied. I can’t even look them in the eye without grinning like an idiot!"Yuuji groaned, sinking back into the couch to wallow in his self-perceived ineptness. “I just... I just want this to be perfect! They’re the ones, guys! I can’t ruin this. I want to... I want to do well.”

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you?” Nobara muttered, rolling her eyes as she grabbed a Christmas cookie from the table.

“Maybe write them a note.” Megumi suggested, not even looking up from his book. “Or I don’t know; stop overthinking everything. I don’t think it matters what you give them. They love you enough for everything else. They’re with you for a reason, Itadori. They like you. Not what you can provide them. It’s not that deep.”

“But it is that deep!" Yuuji exclaimed, flailing his arms. “I want it to be perfect! I want them to know how much they mean to me!”

“Just pick something from the heart, Itadori.” Nobara said, her tone softening slightly. “They’ll love it because it’s from you, dumbass. You don’t need to stress so much.”

Yuuji sighed, hugging the pillow Nobara had thrown at him. Deep down, he knew they were right. It wasn’t about finding the perfect gift. It’s never been like that with you, no. It was about showing you how much he cared. And he already knew how he felt: completely, utterly, hopelessly in love with you.

That night, he sat at his desk, the dorm room quiet, save for the faint rustle of snow falling outside his window. He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as his mind drifted to you. He thought about the way your laugh always seemed to bubble up like music, filling the air with warmth. He thought about how, even on the darkest days, your presence was enough to make everything feel a little bit brighter, a little bit easier.

With a deep breath, he picked up a pen and a blank sheet of paper, staring at it as if it held all the answers he was looking for. He twirled the pen between his fingers, his heart thudding in his chest. For once, he didn’t try to overthink it. He knew he had the words. He just has to let them go. 

He takes a deep breath and looks at the page again. He can do this. He knows he can. Nothing is impossible for love. Nothing is impossible when it comes to loving you. And showing you that, well, he wants to make sure you see it! And so he let the words flow, raw and honest, straight from his heart. He doesn’t stop until he gets every bit of it out. 

He started with the small things. How he loved the way you’d hum absentmindedly when you were focused, or how you’d always check to make sure he was okay, even when you were the one who’d had a rough day. He wrote about how much he admired you—your kindness, your resilience, your ability to find joy in the simplest things.

Then, as the words poured out, he wrote about the bigger things. How meeting you had changed him in ways he couldn’t fully explain. How, before you, he hadn’t realized how much brighter life could be. How he’d never known what it felt like to be this happy, this complete, until he met you.

The more he wrote, the lighter he felt. By the time he reached the end of the letter, his hand was cramped, but his heart felt full. He folded the paper carefully, tucking it into an envelope and sealing it with a quiet smile.

The next day, Itadori Yuuji ventured out into the bustling city again. The crisp winter morning coupled with the cold winter air was sharp and frosty, each breath forming little clouds that vanished as quickly as they came. Today was the day he'll get that bonus gift. He will find the perfect one. He knows it.

He wandered from shop to shop, weaving through crowds of last-minute shoppers. He studied every display carefully, letting his instincts guide him to the perfect one. He knew it just had to be here somewhere. Yet, after hours of searching, the doubt began to creep back in.

“What if I can’t find it?”He muttered to himself, the weight of his self-imposed expectations starting to press down again. “No, no. We had this talk, Itadori Yuuji! You will find it. You have the letter; that’s the present. Your love? That’s the gift. This is just a bonus, okay? No pressure!”

Lost in thought and incoherent mumbles to himself, Itadori Yuuji wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and nearly collided with a familiar figure. He blinked for a moment. It was a good thing he wasn’t carrying anything. 

“Ah—sorry!” He blurted out, stepping back to apologize. Then he froze. “Nanamin?!”

Standing before him was none other than Nanami Kento, looking as polished as ever in a dark wool coat and a long, warm-colored scarf neatly tucked into place. Beside him was a woman with a kind smile; her arm looped casually through his. She gasped and smiled.

"Itadori-kun.” Kento greeted, raising a brow at the flustered expression on Yuuji’s face. “What are you doing out here?”

“I, uh...” Yuuji scratched the back of his head. “I’m trying to find a Christmas gift for someone. It’s... really important.”

Kento’s wife tilted her head curiously. “You look a little lost, Itadori-kun. Need some help with it?”

Yuuji hesitated, then let out a sheepish laugh. “Honestly? Yeah. I’ve been wandering for hours... Well, for a long while now. And I still don’t know what to get. I mean, I got the letter and everything and my love for them. I think that’s the most important part, but the other part of it is just...”

Kento glanced at his wife, who smiled warmly and squeezed his arm. “Well, lucky for you, I’m a bit of a pro at picking out thoughtful gifts, aren’t I, Kento?” She said to him. “Why don’t we take a look together, Itadori-kun?”

Before Yuuji could protest, she guided him into the next store, her pace brisk yet purposeful. Nanami Kento merely followed a few steps behind, his expression as composed as ever, though Yuuji could swear there was a flicker of amusement in his mentor’s caramel eyes.

“So, Itadori-kun.” Kento’s wife began, glancing at Yuuji as they entered a cozy boutique lined with handmade crafts and ornaments. "Can you tell me a little about your partner? What do they like?”

Yuuji scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling shy. “Well, they love warm drinks, like tea and hot chocolate, especially on cold days like this. They always get this little smile when they’re holding a warm mug.”

Kento’s wife smiled. “That’s a lovely detail. What else?”

“They’re really passionate about their hobbies, a lot really!" Yuuji continued, his voice softening as he thought of you. “When they talk about something they love, their eyes just... light up. It’s amazing. I could listen to them for hours.”

She chuckled, picking up a small handcrafted snow globe from a nearby shelf. “Sounds like you’re pretty smitten, Yuuji.”

Yuuji’s face turned bright red at her comment. “I mean... Yeah.” he admitted, scratching his cheek. “They’re just... really special, you know? Like, every moment with them feels like a gift.”

Nanami Kento, who had been quietly observing, cleared his throat. “Itadori-kun, while that’s touching, perhaps you could focus on specifics. What’s something they’ve mentioned recently? Something they’ve wanted or admired?”

Yuuji paused, thinking hard. Then his warm eyes lit up. “Oh! They mentioned this charm they saw once—something small but meaningful. They said it reminded them of their family. I didn’t think of it until now.”

Kento’s wife clapped her hands together. “Perfect! Let’s see if we can find something like that.”

As they moved through the store, Itadori Yuuji rambled on, describing your quirks and favorite things with so much enthusiasm that even Nanami Kento seemed amused. The kid is passionate about a lot of things; he’d observed that in the time Yuuji and him had spent time together. 

But at this level? Never. He’s not seen that at all. But perhaps Kento could find himself relating to the younger man. He too is a man in love who can't help but be frantic when it comes to his own lover. And he too is the type of man who would never shut up about the person he loves. 

“They always hum when they’re concentrating. They do that really well too!"Yuuji said, smiling fondly. “But to be honest, Nanamin, it’s the cutest thing. And they’re amazing at turning little moments into something fun, like making a random walk feel like an adventure.”

“You really adore them, don’t you?"Kento's wife asked him, her tone full of teasing.

“I do. I really do,” Yuuji replied earnestly, his expression softening. “I just want to make them as happy as they make me.”

Kento’s wife exchanged a glance with her husband, who gave her a subtle nod. “Well, Itadori-kun, with that much love behind it, whatever you choose will be perfect.”

A moment later, Yuuji’s bright-eyed gaze landed on a beautifully decorated charm tucked away on one of the displays at the corner. It was simple, delicate, and intricately designed—a perfect match for the one you’d described.

“This is it! I think this is it!" Yuuji said, picking it up carefully. His grin grew wider as he imagined your reaction. “I think they’ll love it. I just know it.”

Kento’s wife smiled approvingly. “You did great, Itadori-kun. And now you can relax knowing it’s exactly what they’d want.”

Kento gave a faint smirk at the young man. “Next time, save yourself the trouble and ask them directly, Itadori-kun." It might save you hours of pacing through stores.”

Yuuji laughed, clutching the charm in his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind, Nanamin. Thanks for the help, both of you. I appreciate it. Really.”

Kento’s wife waved off his gratitude with a smile. “It’s nothing, Itadori-kun! You already knew what you wanted, you know? You just needed a little nudge.”

As they walked out of the shop together, they parted ways soon after that. Itadori Yuuji clutched the carefully wrapped gift in his hands, his heart lighter than it had been in days. This wasn’t just a present. It was a piece of his love for you, wrapped in meaning and chosen with care. And he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when you opened it.

When Christmas Day arrived, it was just too much. Itadori Yuuji was a bundle of nerves. He paced his room, the gift and letter sitting neatly on his desk. His stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He practiced what he would say, only to stumble over his words each time.

“What if they don’t like it?” He muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. “What if it’s not enough?”

But all of Yuuji’s doubts melted away the moment you walked in. The door jingled as you stepped inside his dorms, shaking off the chill of the winter air, and the world seemed to slow. He felt like he couldn't breathe. You knocked his air away from his lungs with just your existence. You always have.

You looked effortlessly beautiful to him, even in the simple warmth of your coat and scarf. But it wasn’t just the way you looked—no, it was your presence. That radiant smile of yours, so wondrously bright and delightful. The one that always made his heart skip a beat spread across your face as soon as your eyes landed on him.

“Yuu-chan!” You exclaimed, your voice soft but bright, sending a flutter straight to his chest. You closed the distance between you in a few quick steps, your eyes lighting up with happiness. “I missed you, wah! I’m glad you’re back!”

Yuuji froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sight of you. He had spent days thinking about this moment, stressing over the gift, over making everything just right—but now that you were standing in front of him, all of that seemed insignificant. The only thing that mattered was you.

“I, uh, got you something, baby.” Yuuji stammered, feeling the warmth flood his cheeks. His hands, which had been shaking since he first picked up the gift, now trembled even more as he extended the small package toward you. “It’s not much, but... It’s from the heart.”

You looked down at the little box in his hands, then back up at him with a soft, knowing smile. "Yuu-chan, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, I know,” he said quickly, trying to steady his breath. “But  you know that I just….I wanted to. You’re... really important to me, you know? And I just wanted to show you how much I care. That I... I want to express my love for you like this.”

Your heart warmed at his words. You reached forward, gently taking the package from his trembling hands. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going to combust with how much warmth radiated in you because of his tenderness. 

Everything about your lover made you feel like the world isn’t a cold place. He was everything that made life so good. You were convinced of that. The sincerity in his voice, the way he was so nervous yet so full of love. It made you feel more cherished than any grand gesture ever could.

You carefully unwrapped the gift, the anticipation in Yuuji’s bright eyes palpable as you slowly revealed what was inside. The beautiful and yet simple charm, delicately designed and elegant in its simplicity, lay nestled in the box.

You gasped softly, your fingers tracing the intricate design. It was everything Yuuji had described and more. It wasn’t flashy, but it held such deep meaning. You didn’t want it to be flashy. You just wanted it to be from him, from his heart. You felt the weight of his love in it and the thoughtfulness behind every detail.

And boy, did it deliver. He always does. Your lover boy always will. 

“There’s a letter inside for you, Read it later, okay? If you want—"

“Yuu–chan!” You whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s perfect.”

His face turned a shade of pink so deep it was almost red, and he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Really? You like it?”

You nodded, eyes glistening. “I love it. I love you.”

Yuuji’s heart skipped a beat, and he could hardly contain the goofy grin that spread across his face. It wasn’t about the gift. Though he was surely sure that he was happy you liked it anyway. But of course, this was more important.  

It was about the way you looked at him that made him feel whole and giddy all over again. The way your smile made his chest feel light, the way your love seemed to wrap around him, as real and as warm as the scarf you wore.

“I love you too.” He whispered in a relieved and yet so loving tone. “So much.”

“You’re the best, Yuu-chan!” You said, stepping forward to hug him, the gift still clutched in your hand. His arms instantly wrapped around you, and he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in. “I love it! I love you! Ah, I’m just so happy!”

“I’m just glad you like it, baby.” he mumbled, the words muffled in your hair, but you could hear the relief and joy in his voice. “I was really worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. "Yuu-chan, you don’t need to worry about that. It’s perfect because it’s from you. And that’s all that matters.”

He gazed down at you, the love in his eyes overwhelming. “I... I just want to make you happy. That’s all I ever want.”

And in that moment, as you stood there together, the soft glow of his dorm lights casting a gentle shimmer through the window, Itadori Yuuji realized something that took his breath away. He had already given you the best gift of all, his heart. 

All the shopping, all the wrapping, the hours of nervous pacing. All of that. they suddenly seemed so trivial compared to this: the simple, unspoken exchange of love that had passed between the two of you. This was more than enough for him. This was his paradise. This was his Christmas miracle. 

His chest swelled with warmth, and he looked down at you with a soft smile, his heart racing just as fast as it had the moment he first met you. No amount of material things, no matter how perfect, could ever compare to the way you made him feel. You were his everything.

Before he could say another word, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands gently cupping his face, and kissed his cheek. The touch was sweet, soft, and full of affection. Yuuji’s warm eyes widened in surprise, the blush creeping up his neck as he felt the warmth of your lips against his skin.

“You’ve done that and more, Yuu-chan! ”You whispered, your voice a little breathless with affection. “Don’t worry!”

His heart fluttered. He felt like he might melt right where he stood. His hands, which had been trembling when he gave you the gift, were now steady as they gently brushed a lock of hair from your face. The tenderness in your words, the way you made him feel so cherished and understood, filled him with a joy that no gift could capture.

“You really think so, baby?”He asked softly, a shy grin pulling at his lips.

“Of course I do,” you replied, smiling up at him with those sparkling eyes of yours. “You’re all I ever need, Yuu-chan.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart swell, and he leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. The world outside seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, quiet moment.

“I’m so lucky to have you, baby.” Yuuji whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m never letting you go.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug. “You don’t have to, Yuuji. I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, his arms instinctively wrapping around you in return, pulling you even closer. “Good. Because I think I’d be lost without you.”

“Merry Christmas, Yuu-chan.” You smiled at him.

He grinned at you, taking to embracing you. “Merry Christmas, baby!"

[coquettepascal]

cranberry christmas

part iii of my series "texas sweet!" texas sweet masterlist and my masterlist

summary: it's your first christmas with the miller family, which brings all sorts of new feelings out of you and joel. he relieves your anxiety in a few giving ways (tis the season!)

tags: 18+, smut, anxious!reader, dilf!joel, joel is kind of a flop (but in a cute way), gentle!joel, found family (a little), the miller family being cute, reader has an anxiety attack, mentions of troubled family life, dorky christmas cheesiness, reader celebrates christmas, heavy on the f!reader for this one, reader has boobs, reader has hair, reader wears lingerie, dryhumping, almost powerbottom!joel (?), begging, nippleplay, hickeys, coming untouched, praise kink a little, realistic people in unrealistic situations, establishing of relationship

part i -> part ii -> part iii

a/n: this honestly got way out of hand, but i LOVE IT!! i hope you all have a lovely holiday season <3

(5.1k, not beta read)

“How long have you been a dad again?” 

You’re staring at the pile of gifts that Joel has “wrapped” so far. The striped paper is wrinkled on a few of them like he balled up the paper before wrapping the gift, other ones have glaring bald spots that reveal what they are without having to unwrap them. 

Joel huffs, grumbling to himself as he’s hunched on the floor, cutting out another square of paper to wrap a book. 

“Long enough to know that if I stay down here too long my back’ll hurt tomorrow,” he responds. 

The Christmas tree in his living room has been thoroughly decorated, leaving the lights to reflect from glass ornaments onto his face. Joel looks stressed tonight, but he’s just been stressed all the time lately. The colder months have brought shittier weather, which has him worried about snowfall on sites that couldn’t take it at the moment. Anytime you’ve seen him recently, his skin has still been cold from the outside, his nose slightly red. 

He looks at your pile of gifts, which have been neatly wrapped and finished with stick-on bows, and then scrunches his face, quietly mocking your words. You laugh, feigning offense as you tilt your head.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just assumed you would have been better with your hands, Joel,” you retort in return. Instantly his head is back up so he can look at you, a shocked expression on his face. 

“You sayin’ I’m no good with my hands?” He asks, a bit incredulous.

Your eyes are rolling before you can help it, smiling as you shake your head.

“No–” you start.

“I can prove that I got perfectly fine hands. Fingers too for that matter,” he dares.

Joel shoves the wrapping paper out of his way as he scoots his way over to you, his knees scrubbing the hardwood floor. He’s smiling stupidly, clearly excited to get out of wrapping gifts.

“Joel!!” You huff, trying to squirm away from him as he gets closer to you. You’ve learned he has a serious personal space problem.

“What, angel? S’not like anybody else is home,” he grins, nosing at your cheek.

And God. Yeah, finally, nobody is fucking home.

You and Joel have been something for the past however many months. Time has flown quickly, with life and love brushing past your skin in a wind of smiles. Work takes over Joel’s life before he realizes it, and it happens a lot. Maybe that would be a problem for most people, but you live right next door. It’s not like there’s space between you, especially since you can knock on his door whenever you want to.

But you’re both adults, and spontaneity requires energy that you both lack. 

The current schedule you’ve fallen into is seeing him on Friday evenings, whenever he gets home from work, a small date on Saturday if you have the energy, and family dinner on Sunday. Yes, you’ve now worked up the courage to look his daughters and brother in the eye. After you started showing up more often they began to bond with you more, especially his girls. Ellie and Sarah are both young, both smart, and as different as they are, it just makes for a firecracker-y relationship that’s hard not to interact with.

You’ve fallen into place as Joel’s something, as someone to his family.

The only problem you and Joel have is actually getting alone time. Since you both work so much, and he’s so family oriented, it’s been hell actually trying to get alone time with him. Not even just time to… do stuff. Just having a private moment is tough. Someone is always in his house, and as much as you have your own house, his feels more like home. 

You didn’t even set up your tree this year. The living room is bare of holiday cheer, save for the growing pile of presents that you’ve built in the corner near the couch. Finding home in Joel has not helped you find your place in Austin still, the lack of familial familiarity has sucked the love from your walls. The whole house just feels like dead skin that’s ready to flake away anytime you’re there. You want to brush it from its plot of land and go back to the place next door, where warm light and voices hold the roof down and raise it all the same. 

So yeah, your house isn’t really where you want to be, ever. Sacrificing sex with Joel isn’t the best, but you want to be around him more than anything. As long as he’s there, you don’t care so much if he’s getting you there. At least not usually. 

“Yeah, no one’s home,” you repeat back to him.

The incandescent bulbs that are strung onto the tree are casting light through his hair. Tiny flecks of grey are all you can get a view of right now as he pushes his nose beneath your jaw, pressing kisses to the tender skin that tingles under his lips. 

“Mhm,” he grunts, biting at your skin then kissing over it when you wince slightly. “N’they won’t be home for at least an hour.” His hands are skimming over the waistband of your pajama pants, warm fingers dipping to touch the band of your undies. 

“Yeah,” you say again. You’re losing words. It always feels like you lose your words, breath, and brain around him, but maybe it’s because you don’t need it. Joel keeps kissing at your neck as he reaches around, tapping your bum so you lift up for him. 

The lights in the room flash into pink as your eyes slide shut and your pants are tugged down more. It’s been too long, you need this, he needs this. 

Joel doesn’t hesitate. As soon as your pants are down enough, his hand is in your undies, skimming the hair there and then pressing against you. A surprised huff puffs into your neck as he feels how wet you’ve gotten, how quick. 

And then keys. And then the front door is swinging open. And then your pants are shoved up and everyone’s home and you aren’t in your mind, but it’s fine. It’s fine. 

You’ll find time before Christmas. 

—

Today is Shitmas.

“Shitmas. Y’know, like the day in Christmas week where you do a bunch of Christmas-y shit,” Tommy had informed you about a week ago, after you had slowly turned to look at him in the living room.

The Miller family does Shitmas on the 23rd of December, and supposedly it includes, but is not limited to, family pictures in the living room, cookie baking and decorating (lead by Sarah), and sock snowman making. 

They do this every year, and you can tell because as soon as you show up on Shitmas, you’re greeted by little sock snowmen. They line the stairs, each one with a year labelled on the belly. The first few are singular snowmen, but somewhere along the way it turns into two, marking when Ellie joined their family. Over the years they’ve obviously improved, but there’s something special about the first few on the stairs. Mismatched eyes, splattered glitter glue, and Joel’s printing on their bellies, instead of Sarah’s, all grace the earliest dated snowmen.

Ellie was the one to let you into the house today, since apparently Joel is helping Sarah bake and his hands are “nasty,” in Ellie’s words. 

“Kinda ugly, huh?” Ellie teases as you crouch to look at them on the stairs. Sarah calls out somewhere in the house, over the noise of the electric mixer, and it makes you huff a laugh.

“I think they’re endearing. It’s nice that Joel keeps these,” you reply. She somewhat agrees, an “I guess,” begrudgingly leaving her lips before Joel finally walks up and she skips off back to the kitchen. 

Joel’s drying his hands with a dishtowel still as he embraces you, sighing deeply. 

“Hey angel, sorry. Fuckin… Raw egg all over my hands,” he mutters as he squeezes you tight. The two of you pull apart for a moment, but not before Joel’s going back in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. As your palms settle against his chest, you can’t help but notice how warm he is, the skin beneath his shirt, hot and giving plushly under your fingers. 

“I like the girls’ snowmen,” you tell him fondly, peeking over your shoulder at them. When you look back at him, he’s looking at them, a softness in his eyes.

“Ellie hates doing those, she only does it because Sarah likes to.” 

—

Shitmas has been stupidly fun so far. Watching Tommy and Joel try their best to decorate cookies while Sarah makes Great British Bake Off worthy ones, all while Ellie smears smiley faces onto each one in an effort to make her sister proud has raised your spirits infinitely. You decorated a few cookies, but mostly watched in awe as Sarah expertly pressed sprinkles into each of the cookies and piped patterns onto them. It kind of felt like wasting cookies to not let her decorate them, even though she bakes them each year so everyone can participate. 

Now, you’re sitting on the couch. The cookies are all sitting on the kitchen counter, abandoned as each family member bustles around the house getting ready for the picture they’ll take in front of the tree. 

Surprisingly, Tommy is done getting ready first. Honestly you figured it would have been Joel, but maybe he’s putting some extra effort in today, rather than just running a comb through his hair. Tommy’s appearance at first is only surprising because of how meticulous he can be with his hair. Joel has told you about the times they’ve been late because his hair was “fighting” him some mornings. 

“Hair cooperated with me,” he says as he takes a seat next to you on the couch. Sometimes it feels like Tommy can either read your mind, or just says shit to take up space. You respond with a nod and a mild expression of acknowledgement, a little off in your own world. 

“You forget your flannel or somethin?” Tommy asks next. You almost nod again, on auto-pilot, but then stop.

“What?” You ask, head turning in his direction. He laughs in disbelief, and for a moment you feel embarrassment start burning at the base of your neck in fear he’s laughing at you. Were you told to bring something and didn’t?

“Hold on,” Tommy says, grunting as he curls up and off the couch a second later.

He leaves you alone in the living room, left to listen to the crackling fireplace channel on TV and the sound of Ellie protesting over Sarah wanting to put hairspray on her. 

Tommy’s heavy footsteps clomp around upstairs, leading into Joel’s bedroom. Not dissimilar to the girls downstairs, the rumble of Joel’s voice hits the floor and you roll your eyes, holding a laugh. There aren’t words you can make out, but you’re sure that Joel is mightily unhappy at the random intrusion of his brother.

The more you learn about this family, the more you feel like you’re falling into place, and the more you experience being in it, the farther away your own family feels.

You sit on the couch, still as can be, as you listen to the sound of Tommy rummaging around his older brother’s room, the sound of the hairspray being spritzed while Ellie groans. The sounds are feeling increasingly farther away, even though the girls are downstairs and the boys are only upstairs. Your eyes move to the cookies sitting on the counter, the messy dishes in the sink, and suddenly the stickiness from the icing beneath your nails is too much. 

What are you doing here? What is this Hallmark movie family you’ve found yourself in? 

The thump of your heart ramps up, pumping blood to your ears and making it rssshhhh in the back of your mind just as you begin to chase your breath. It’s all too nice, and maybe you aren’t entirely undeserving, but this is all so unfamiliar. Your own family isn’t terrible, but in comparison to this, it feels so dull. Christmas was just lights and presents before, not tradition and excitement the way that fucking Shitmas has been so far. You’re one activity into the day and it’s already so much better than what you can remember from back home. 

Maybe this is what influenced your decision to stay in Texas for the holidays. Maybe somewhere in you, you knew that this would be better. You’re sitting here, in another family’s home, taking your own family for granted, and for what? Some cookies and some pictures? For the sake of a relationship that isn’t even labelled yet? You deserve this, you deserve to chase your breath and wipe your tears. Selfish girl, if you didn’t feel right in your own family, what right do you have to find a place in theirs?

Nobody in this house asked you to be here but Joel, and really, you just showed up on his doorstep. 

Your eyes are shut as you catch your breath, squinched together so tightly that you see sparks of colour behind your eyelids. Tears keep slipping out and you wipe under your eyes politely, trying not to choke on any noises. The bathrooms are occupied, don’t make a fool of yourself in the living room. 

Tommy and Joel’s voices increase in volume until they’re in front of you, and you open your eyes to see the pair staring at you. Tommy avoids your eyes as soon as you’re looking back at him, while Joel just seems a little shocked.

“Hey,” Joel says, a festive red flannel in his grip. “Why don’t we head upstairs for a second?”

—

You cry for a long while before you actually manage to tell Joel what’s upset you. 

Sat on the edge of his bed, you cry into your palms until your cheeks are red and blotchy, and snot covers the inside of your palms and the bridge of your nose. It’s ugly, nasty, and not what you want to be doing at all. Your family is fine, just boring and emotionally detached, and you’re crying about it to the hardest working single father you know, who has essentially built his life on his own with the help of his brother. 

“I just feel so stupid and– and totally out of place. What have I done to earn my place here?” You ask him, eyes puffy and sad as you stare up at him.

Joel looks hurt. He has looked hurt for a long while, but you couldn’t see it when you were buried in your palms. His brows are pinched, his eyes wrinkled at the outer corners as he looks at you, almost seeming to pity you. For a moment his eyes flash away, not to anything in particular, but just to gather himself.

“Earn your place? Baby, what?” He questions. You stay quiet, feeling just as confused as he sounds. 

His hands clench where they rest on his thighs, then relax as he sighs, head tilting to the side so he can look at you again. 

“You don’t… earn your place in our family, darlin, you’re invited.”

How could you be so fucking dense?

Anyone that’s in Joel’s life, apart from Sarah, is somebody he actively invited in. His allowance of Tommy to be a near second father figure to Sarah and Ellie, his adoption of Ellie on its own,  the majority of his family has been let in. It could have been just him and Sarah, but he wanted more so he allowed more, and he allows more because he loves what the more in his life is. 

Joel takes a deep breath, again, and seems to steel his nerves. 

“You are so much more than invited into our family, angel, you’re welcomed wholly. But, if that’s too much right now and it’s bringing you worry, it’s fine for you to just be my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend.

That is not the topic right now, that is so not the topic right now, but he said the word. 

Joel loves the more in his life, and now he’s added you to that “more” officially. A label, a name, a little add-on to your identity. You’re putting “Joel’s Girlfriend” on your imaginary nametag in a million different fonts in your head before you realize he’s still talking. 

“You fit right in with us, baby. The girls love you, Tommy loves you, I love you, but you know that one,” he laughs. “It’s up to you if you wanna think of yourself as a part of our family, but know that we already do.” 

A smarter response should come out of your mouth here. Joel has just said a lot of touching things that have sunk into the meat of your body, warming you, but a smart response isn’t something you can manage.

“I’m your girlfriend?”  You ask.

Joel’s brows furrow. “Yeah?”

He says it the way an eighth grader would say “Duh.”

Your look of “When did this happen?” meets Joel’s look of “Where have you been?” at the same time, and only then does he realize. 

—

His apology for completely forgetting to ask you to be his official girlfriend for the last however many months is by cleaning you up really nicely for the photo.

Joel starts by fixing your hair, letting you sit between his knees as he gently pulls it away from your face. His hands run through it so carefully, a tenderness that only an experienced girl-dad like him could provide. When he’s finished, he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head, adding a mumbled “sorry” in, just to really save his ass. 

With anyone else you’d be upset at them for forgetting something so pivotal in a relationship, but with Joel you lend as much patience as he gives you. He’s busy, stupidly so, and with how close and intense the two of you are with one another, it’s not absurd for it to have slipped his mind. In some ways it’s flattering, and you’d like to ask how long he’s been thinking of you as his girlfriend. 

You’re just about to when he holds up the flannel in front of you, the one that he and the rest of his family are apparently wearing for the photo.

“You don’t have to. Seriously. We just talked about family and stuff and if you aren’t ready for that, then that’s–” He’s talking fast, but not as fast as you move to grab the flannel from him.

“I’m your girlfriend, of course I have to be in the picture.”

—

The rest of Shitmas was less, well, shit. 

Ellie and Sarah did their yearly sock snowmen after the photo was taken and they turned out lovely, or at least Sarah’s did. Ellie purposefully overstuffed hers with rice just to see how big she could make the snowman before he exploded, which resulted in him exploding later that evening when his rotund body toppled down the stairs.

Now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re prepping for tomorrow morning. Your house still isn’t decorated in the slightest, the only festive thing about it being a laundry basket full of gifts that you’ll tote over to Joel’s tomorrow morning. 

Your lower back is absolutely killing you from wrapping the last of Joel’s gifts, something he had warned you of, but you had foolishly ignored. You figured it was an old man thing, not a consequence of too many presents. It feels like heaven when your back finally rests against the couch, your head leaning back as you sigh.

Since talking with Joel yesterday about the family stress and what the two of you are, you feel a hell of a lot better. Your lungs almost feel like they’re more open than before.

Just as you’re relaxing, eyes sliding shut in stressless bliss, someones at the door. 

You grunt as you peel yourself off the couch, trudging to the door and opening it. It’s strange that anyone is at your door, especially since Joel is out with Tommy and the girls going Christmas light spotting.

Or at least he’s supposed to be.

Joel stands at your door in a loose shirt and grey sweatpants, looking sheepish. 

“Do you want to come over for a bit?”

—

Alone. Finally, alone. 

You’re sat halfway on Joel’s lap, sucking a mark into his neck as he leans back, cursing softly. 

“Fuuuckin’ god, you know I missed you,” he groans. You nod into his skin, teething at the skin softly before pulling back to lick at the reddened spot. 

Your hands grip up his sides, feeling the solid width of his body, the plushness of his tummy when your hands sink into the right spot, and you want to whimper. He’s so stupidly big, and you’re so grateful he took his shirt off almost as soon as you both started making out.

Under the lights of the tree, he already looks fucked out. Joel is almost completely limp against the back of the couch, head leaned back to expose his thick throat, bitten down and bruised with marks he might regret in a few hours. His eyes are halfway shut, but dark as ever even in the warm glow of the room which also illuminates the contours that form along his tanned skin. 

He feels your eyes on him, his own opening in an attempt to meet yours, but it only brings attention to his face. Pink lips sit pretty on his face, slightly parted and puffy from kissing you dizzy earlier. Again, his eyes squeeze shut as you drag your nails up across his chest, only to fly open.

“Wait– Wait I have something,” Joel sputters. He slides you off his lap, scrambling to the Christmas tree with boyish urgency.

Joel returns with a red present, one that he actually wrapped fairly neatly.

It’d be sweet if you weren’t literally two seconds from tearing his grey sweats off his body and riding him into next year before he had shoved you off. 

“It’s not Christmas,” you point out, but he shakes his head and shoves the gift into your hands.

Begrudgingly, you unwrap the gift and lift the lid off the box beneath the paper. Laying flat in the bottom of the thin box, cushioned by white tissue paper, is a red, babydoll, nightie. A blush lashes across your cheeks as you lift it out of the box, discovering that the top of it has no bra cups, or really anything to support your tits at all. Red ribbon frames the bust of the nightie limply in a triangular shape, a fluttery mesh making up for the remainder of the piece. It looks and feels expensive, and on top of that it’s totally sexy, even more so since Joel is the one that bought it for you.

Joel had gone out and picked this just for you, he had probably thought about you wearing this every night for the past week. The idea of it is making you increasingly more aroused, your eyes flicking to his, then down to the bulge in his pants. 

“If it’s too much then I’ll return it but,” Joel’s chest is heaving with excitement, biting his lip as he looks at the nightie, “but I kind of want to fuck my beautiful girlfriend before Christmas.”

The two of you are upstairs quickly, with Joel settling in bed and you changing in the bathroom. 

You look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror once you’ve put the ensemble on, if you can call it that. The underwear that came with the nightie are barely a scrap of fabric. Normally you’d feel really uncomfortable in something like this, hyperfocusing on small things, like how the pouch of your belly looks, or how your tits don’t look nearly as full as you want them to, but not right now. 

Joel Miller just gave you, his official girlfriend, lingerie for Christmas. Because he wants to fuck you in it. 

Shamelessly, you open the door into Joel’s bedroom, basically bouncing onto the bed. 

“It’s so nice,” you tell him right away, wanting to show your gratitude. He’s down to his boxers as he lays beside you, eyes scanning up and down your body as you sit in his bed, almost as sexy as you are naked. 

Joel is still like that for almost a minute, making your brain run haywire. Tonight, he’s left the bedside light on. It’s probably so he can see you, but it’s always special when he lets you see him while you both get intimate. He doesn’t touch you at all, just scoots up the bed so he’s sitting upright and unblinking, until finally:

“I want you to use me,” Joel blurts out. 

It’s more surprising than the gift. Your voice is a tiny whine in the back of your throat, your mouth forming the word “what,” but before you can finish, his hands are on your hips, lifting you onto his thigh. 

“There, I want you to use me there,” he near-demands. 

You’re speechless. Joel is vocal in bed for sure, always talking a lot and never really quiet, but he hasn’t been so… commanding before. He’ll ask for things occasionally, a certain position or act, but not like this. Your hips are still as he pushes you down onto his thigh, the hair on it smushing into the softness of your skin. 

“C’mon, angel, I can feel you. Fuck my thigh, use me, I want it.” He encourages.

Joel’s hands grab onto you tighter now, starting to make you move your hips until you do it on your own. It feels like you’re making a dumb face, eyes wide and brows pinched together, but you can’t help but feel surprised.

This is Joel, your Joel, who was hesitant to have sex with the lights on, or even let you look at his dick in general, and now he’s making you hump his thigh? It’s completely new to you, but you aren’t mad.

Once you’ve picked up your own pace, and stabilized yourself with your hands on his shoulders, he reaches up. Joel keeps his eyes trained on your face as he takes advantage of how your tits are on full display in the nightie, plucking and rolling your nipples in his fingers all while talking you through what’s going on. 

“I know, I know you needed this,” he nods at you, “I needed it too, baby. Missed you like this.” 

It feels awfully good grinding against his thigh, and something about this newfound side of Joel with the added fact that you guys haven’t had a moment alone in probably a month, is making this so much more explosive. You roll your hips just right and gasp as one side of the undies slips into the slit of your cunt, the less soft edge of the elastic brushing your clit. A pathetic noise is ripped from you as your hips stutter, body shocked from the sudden direct stimulation.

“No,” Joel says right away. His hand reaches around and cups the bottom of your ass, letting his fingers sink into the crease between your butt and thigh as he drags you forward again. 

“Want your messy pussy all over me, please angel I need it so bad,” he says, guiding your movements as you start to go limp, head falling back. You barely register the feeling of his hand on your waist, trying to balance you as he fucks your wet cunt onto his leg. 

You let out a tiny noise as the elastic of the undies bites into your clit again and for whatever reason it makes Joel groan too. 

“S’exactly what I wanted, angel. Wanted my pretty girlfriend to come all over me an’ have her tits in my face.”

Whatever the hell has gotten into him you hope it gets into him again. He keeps rubbing you into his leg until you’re begging for more stimulation, your limp arms reaching to grab at his hand and push it up to your breasts again. 

“M-my nipples,” you beg softly, tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation on your clit. He doesn’t hesitate, half smiling as he starts playing with your nipples again.

“Like this? Is this gonna make my pretty baby come?” He teases as he rolls your nipples repeatedly between his fingers.

All of it is too much, but it’s exactly what you wanted at the same time. Your orgasm completely fucks you out as you keep your eyes on his, mouth hanging open dumbly as he keeps one hand playing with your nipple and the other reaching down to cup your ass and grind your cunt harder on his thigh. 

“Good girl, fuckin’ God,” Joel says, staring down as your ruined undies mash into his skin. You can’t tell if you’re coming down or if this orgasm is just super long for no reason, but if it was ending, it’s extended the moment Joel’s thigh clenches up.

You look down as you whimper, wondering why he’s chosen midway through your orgasm to fuck you up again, but then realize that he didn’t choose. 

A fat, pearly, translucent bead, sprouts from where the head of his cock lays beneath his black briefs. You can see it grow bigger in the light, listening as Joel groans and curses, his lower half thrashing beneath you. His chest is heaving and the hand on your ass is digging deep. 

“Jesus– God, baby, what you do to me,” he grits through his teeth as his back finally hits the headboard again. 

Frankly, you’re speechless. You didn’t realize that would happen, or really that it could happen. You weren’t even touching him and he came, he was only watching you. It isn’t like he shot a huge load of come, but still, something came out. 

Joel seems to be coming to the same conclusion as he breathily laughs, looking down at the mess before tugging you down onto him anyway, burying his nose in your hair. 

“Good gift,” he mumbles, maybe to you, maybe to himself. “Definitely buyin’ you another one next year.” [ <3 ]

----

please leave comments, rbs/tags, or drop into my askbox ! i love to chat and listen <3 tags (people who i think will like this?? maybe??) @bambisweethearts , @pascalssbabyy , @ajps-posts , @starcaviar , @hisvision , @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal , @joeloverture , @mochamadeleines , @taeslarityy , @theweedisasterxoxo , @pawnshopb1ues , @hellishjoel , @slutty-express , @kyloispunk , @rainbowcosmicchaos , @stefanibear003 , @pedrostories [i plan on making an updates blog or something soon, apologies!]

[naamahdarling]

I wish more people opted for rehoming sooner, honestly. Better to do it before quality of life declines too far, or a stressful situation goes on too long.

The virulent attacks on people who rehome from people trying to shame them for their choice only makes people more hesitant to reach out to try to fix a situation that is shitty for the animal.

It kept me from trying for longer than it should have with Etrigan. I was prepared for some pretty nasty backlash. Fortunately that didn't happen, but, then, Tumblr isn't Reddit or YouTube.

He is living an INCREDIBLE life now, by the way. His owner is the loveliest human being and keeps me updated on him every few days. He's thriving because we were willing to admit we could not be what he needed.

I miss him terribly but this is not the face of a man who laments his lot in life.

I feel the same about the way in which "if you get a long-haired animal, be prepared to groom it appropriately" has morphed into "if you do not keep up with it perfectly, or if you opt to shave the animal down, or if you have to so much as clip out a SINGLE MAT, you are a garbage human being". I could go ON about Dried Pickle Man, who was a nightmare situation grooming-wise, but I'll just say that you cannot know which animals are or will become traditionally ungroomable.

hi! can i ask what's ur opinion on giving pets away? not necessarily because u can't afford to care for em anymore but maybe incompatibility of personalities or maybe lifestyles. is it wrong to give ur pet for adoption if u know someone who's better suited for keeping a pet, like emotionally?

This is going to be controversial, but I support making that choice.

There’s a lot of rhetoric lately around how it’s evil and unethical to rehome your pet if you don’t “need to.” And what that does is prioritize human ideology over the actual animal’s well-being.

Pets that aren’t a good match for your home or pets that aren’t really wanted anymore frequently have lower welfare! When caring for an animal becomes a burden or is forced, people end up resenting them, and that means the animal often doesn’t get all of its needs fulfilled. Even if you’re still feeding it and providing appropriate vet care, how likely are you to provide affection or enrichment to an animal you’re tired of being stuck with?

Lifestyle and personality really matter to making sure a pet is a good fit for a home. A dog that alert-barks at every leaf that moves is probably a bad fit for someone who has a chronic migraine syndrome, and they might not know that until the dog has been in the home for weeks and started to open up. A really feisty kitten that requires a ton of play might not do best in the home of someone older who wanted a quiet lap cat. And while you can you do your best to plan to find a compatible animal, you won’t always know ahead of time what issues might arise.

“Forever home” rhetoric is really, really popular and I think it’s very unfair to the animals it is supposed to support. It started with the backlash of seeing animals abandoned inappropriately, and has been heavily reinforced in the public mind because it’s so frequently used to drive fundraising and support for legislation. The whole “forever home” concept communicates to people that getting an animal is an immutable commitment and that if you can’t keep an animal, it is a personal moral failing. It frames human priorities (we think people who get rid of animals are Evil and Bad and should be shunned) as more important than actual welfare needs for individual animals (are they getting the care they need where they are).

Obviously, I don’t support people dumping animals or just getting fad pets they’ll discard immediately, but there’s so many alternate situations that can arise. Even if it’s just “they got a pet and didn’t know what caring for it would take and didn’t want to care for it so they brought it back, how awful” like… okay, I’d like the person to have done more research before they got a pet, but isn’t it better that the animal now has a second chance to go to better home? Knowing what a commitment requires theoretically can be very different than having to actually follow through regularly, and I’d rather see someone maturely acknowledge that having an animal isn’t a good fit than keep it anyway!!

If animals being happy and with all their biological, veterinary, and social needs fulfilled is actually the goal, we need to prioritize their welfare over human opinion. I’d much rather see an animal rehomed responsibly to somewhere it will thrive and be welcomed than see people keep animals they can’t/don’t want to care for out of guilt or shame. 

[giselleloversclub]

NCT SMAU REC PT.3

mark lee

dm for prices @susicheng

small lifestyle influencer yn, who also happens to be a stressed college student, runs into a life threatening dilemma: plug moved to a different state post grad. having developed a crippling dependency on her weekly smoke sesh, she needs someone new, FAST. luckily, chenle seems to know just the guy. enter: mark lee, an astoundingly reliable plug with an interesting texting style. 

plug! mark x fem! reader

personal fav !

⋆ you. @fairyoflia

in which a biology major and a basketball player lock eyes on the train after getting caught in the rain. unfortunately for them, they hate each other.

basketball player! mark lee x fem! reader

from the rooftops @peterm4rker

in which biochemistry major mark lee didn’t have time to be swinging around the city fighting crime when he had a chemistry report due in two days and a whole plan to make the girl of his dreams to fall in love with him before the new years party.

or

in which journalism major y/n l/n needed her ground breaking story of the year before fuckass yuna took her place in the college newspaper and decided her favorite superhero was the answer, all while trying to get that cute biochem student to notice her.

spiderman!mark x journalist!reader

_______________________________________________

huang renjun

starlight @suhnandmoon

after an unexpected night at the movies, you’re left turned into a vampire. with the help of park jisung and his friends, your new lifestyle adjustments are thankfully made a lot easier. that is until your friends start to call out your flaky behavior. quick, how are you going to cover up your secret? a fake boyfriend taking up your time? perfect! huang renjun is just the right guy!

huang renjun x fem!reader

vampire au

crush culture @suhnshinehaos

ln yn has always flirted with huang renjun. but they do that with literally everyone else too, they couldn’t possibly be serious about pursuing him, right? on their final year of university, yn is determined to show that they are. with all the walls that renjun has built around himself, will they be strong enough to succeed in tearing them down?

huang renjun x gn!reader

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞 @sungbeam

you and renjun are pen-pals-turned-best-friends, except, no one knows that you know each other. at the same time, both you and renjun are also trying to survive being set up with people by your own separate friend groups. turns out, maybe you both just want each other and no one else.

huang renjun x fem!reader

_______________________________________________

lee jeno

LOVE ON THE (DANCE) FLOOR @v1si0n

jeno was not thrilled about you joining his dance team, especially because he starts messing up every time you’re around. is it really his fault that he gets distracted by how good you look when you dance?

enemies to lovers

dancer!jeno x bookworm!reader

ᝰ.ᐟ off the record @strrykais

someone had to write for the sports column in your schools paper, and unfortunately it falls onto you. only knowing very little about basketball - thanks to your friend chenle, this shouldn't be so bad!

well, that was until you meet the team’s captain and he rudely asks if you are deaf.... funny thing is, you are!

lee jeno x fem!reader

personal fav

good graces @106alibi

y/n knows she's petty. so when she found out her (secret) celebrity boyfriend of a year had been cheating on her, through a news article to make things worse, she decided to cook up an action plan to get back at him, and what better way to take revenge than to get together with his all-time favourite athlete?

or, in which y/n involves an unsuspecting lee jeno into her little revenge scheme on her now ex-boyfriend.

boxer!jeno x magazine-editor!reader

personal fav

secret admirer @diaphamin

in which ncit’s star basketball player lee jeno is your secret admirer

lee jeno x reader

my youth , your kitchen @cigsaftersuh

in which y/n, a pre-med student, who loves to cook & feed people, meets jeno, the quiet sports science major with a soft smile, and discovers that the way to someone’s heart really is through their gastrointestinal tract, their stomach.

non-idol! jeno x f! reader (.◜◡◝)

good boy @fullsunstrawberry

New year's resolution leads to you hitting the gym with your two muscle-head friends. But things get complicated when feelings and emotions are involved.

Jeno x Reader (some anton x reader)

underneath the tree @winwintea

you’ve heard enough of the word ‘christmas’ and it was only the beginning of december! sometimes you’d wish people would just throw their cheerfulness out the window and focus on reality. unfortunately for you lee jeno has just drawn your name for the company’s annual secret santa swinter swap and he’s going to make sure you get a gift you’ll never forget. (and maybe even get you to appreciate christmas along the way?)

co-worker!lee jeno x female!reader

oh , pretty please ? @nislost

After being scolded by a teacher y/n decides she’s sick of failing her classes. she knows if she doesn’t get her act together she might not even make it in life. she decides to seek help from the one student that that can potentially help her, jeno the valedictorian. jeno would only accept if y/n helped him in some way too.

valedictorian!jeno x bimbo!reader

_______________________________________________

lee haechan

on the same page @johnnysuhbmarine

Knowing a change of scenery was what your mental health needed, you transferred to where your brother, Mark, goes to college. The good news is, he’s not too cool for his younger sister, so he lets you join his friend group immediately. The bad news is, Haechan is in that friend group, and a brief encounter four years ago was enough for you to understand he does NOT like you. Even worse news, he’s a lot hotter than he was four years ago…

Haechan x reader

personal fav

lab rats ! @106alibi

graded internship season has finally rolled around for biology student y/n, and with a current gpa of 4.0 under her belt and an extremely high possibility of graduating valedictorian, she's fairly confident that acing her research internship will be just what she needs to secure that spot. of course, that was until a certain someone came into the equation.

or, y/n finds herself partnered with the last person she'd ever want to work with for her research internship, lee donghyuck.

biology-student!donghyuck x biology-student!reader

how not to be a virgin 101 @diaphamin

college is about gaining further education, to some, but to y/n it means she is finally free to explore the side of life she was never able to. parties, relationships, and sex. she was tired of being dull, tired of being the only one around her who hasn’t experienced anything romantic. she was ready to be the exact opposite of what she wasn’t. the only problem being… she doesn’t know how. that’s when she calls upon haechan, someone notoriously known for having a bit too much fun… and asks him for guidance.

where you are @luvmahae

what the absolute fuck is up baby! fall semester marks the peak of greek life at ncu. the campus quad is filled with tents representing various fraternities and sororities with their letters proudly presented in front of each booth, all eager to recruit new members. as students return to campus, they are met with a flood of fliers and invitations to parties, mixers, and rush events. while you were walking through the crowd of eager freshmen to join these organizations, you bumped into someone very unexpected...

what do you do when you bump into the guy you hooked up with after a music festival during summer break? instead of the royal blue basketball jersey you first met him in, it was replaced by a varsity jacket with the letters reading "ΝΧΘ".

"haechan?"

fratboy!haechan x fem!reader

personal fav

nerf this ! @injvns

in which overwatch streamer yn ln is on a winning streak one night, and sorta kinda ends up killing professional overwatch player lee haechan on stream…multiple times. she didn't even know who he was, let alone that he was super hot?! c'mon, she wouldn't have smoked him THAT hard if she knew!

or

yn starts overwatch beef with haechan accidentally. romance ensues.

progamer!haechan x streamer!femreader

cruise of love @mixxiew

yn, a scholarship student, finally gets the opportunity of her life to join her friends for the Semester at the Sea. every thing looks like a dream until the arrogant rich boy lee haechan crushes into her.

haechan x reader

just pretend ! @nislost

y/n gets hit up by her ex and in a desperate attempt to have him leave her alone she gets a random picture of a guy on pinterest and pretends he’s her bf. turns out the picture she used is of an up and coming youtuber lee haechan.

nonidol!haechan x f!reader

sunshine and starlight @lavndrystudios

haechan gets more than he bargained for when he meets chaeyoung’s new roommate. turns out he loves you, he really does. too bad you’re with ten.

haechan x f!reader

APT @sourrpatched

“Don’t you want me like I want you baby?”

After a uni party full of too many drinks and party games, y/n meets the love of her life. Only the next morning she can’t remember his name, his face, or anything besides his very attractive hands.

Lee Donghyuck lives a simple life, work, school, and sleep. He has no business in being dragged into parties every weekend. Which is why bumping into his complete opposite is enough to bring him out of that shell, albeit with force.

LEE DONGHYUCK X FEM!READER

you’re losing me. @najaemism

it’s been six weeks since you ended your six-year relationship with haechan, and it seems like he’s already moved on.

angst, ex!haechan, hurt/no comfort

it's the way you are @inurnctdreams

y/n suh is going into her second semester of her sophomore year at snu. as a self-proclaimed snu lions fangirl, she can’t believe there’s a new player on the team she hasn’t met yet, especially one as cute and funny as lee donghyuck, who nearly everyone she knows seems to already be friends with. how did she manage to avoid him (even if unintentionally) for almost an entire year and a half? he seems way too good to be true… and then she remembers; he’s in the frat.

haechan x fem!reader

_______________________________________________

na jaemin

builds @moonslie04 In which streamer! Jaemin joins a random player's world and starts to roast their build without knowing that the innocent player was another genshin content creator.

˙⋆✮ bed chem ✮⋆˙ @wonbin-truther

when jaemin saw the big red "16%" on his first organic chemistry test, he knew he needed a tutor, fast. enter l/n y/n, a chemical engineering student who is determined to raise his grade. but as study sessions turn into late-night library marathons, jaemin is starting to realize he’s got more than just organic chemistry to worry about.

college student yn x college student jaemin

movie nights @nana4nena

while you’re having weekly movie nights with the dreamies, you and jaemin are falling in love, but someone is falling for you

jaemin x fem! reader

✮⋆˙ .exposure. @susicheng

a member of the up-and coming pop-punk / emo band, reverie: yn finds herself falling in the deep end with the band's new (much needed) photographer, na jaemin.

na jaemin x fem!reader ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

_______________________________________________

zhong chenle

run your mouth @doughyk

chenle has a worm in his ear;not a good worm either, and it doesn’t seem to go away. But there you are, the worm in his ear. Yapping his ear off during work, absolutely smitten by him…chenle not so smitten by you.

nonidol!chenle x fem reader

personal fav

say it @sqh3e

you and Chenle are in the same music class at SMU, you write the songs, he sings them. for a few weeks you stopped showing up and no one realized you hadn’t been showing up until your friend mentions your name.

singer!chenle x fem!reader

_______________________________________________

park jisung

SCUM'S WISH 𓆩♡𓆪 @jungaji

struggling with unrequited feelings, you and park jisung agree to a fake relationship to ease your loneliness, filling the gaps left by others. with promises not to fall for each other and to part ways if your affections are reciprocated elsewhere, you jump into this arrangement. can you both stick to the rules, or will the lines between pretense and reality blur?

or, in which you and park jisung turn to each other for comfort in an attempt to soothe your unrequited loves.

park jisung x fem!reader feat. jeong jaehyun & cho miyeon

_______________________________________________

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 4)

Rio helps you relax after your revelation about being framed

Word count: 3150

Warnings: oral, more murder

The sound of your breathing is so loud in your own head that it takes Dr. Vidal calling your name four times for you to actually hear her. 

“They’re trying to frame me,” you turn around and say frantically, hands fastening in your hair as you start to pace back and forth. Your therapist watches bemusedly. “They took the knife when they were here and killed that guy in a different way so it would look like someone else did it, they planted the knife in the woods so that it would all trace back to me, and if I bring that in…” 

Dr. Vidal finally stands up and leans against the table. “You think The Witch and Lady Death want you arrested?” 

You don’t know what to think. They broke into your motel room, left a flower and a circle on your sticky note that, if anything, gave you a clue, and now they’re setting you up for murder? It doesn’t make any sense, there’s a piece missing, but you can’t find it. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know,” you chant and Dr. Vidal grabs you by the forearms. 

“Breathe,” she orders and holds you while she shows you how to inhale and exhale. “You’re spiraling.” The diagnosis makes you laugh hysterically. Of course you’re spiraling! “Sit down,” she says, gently pushing you onto the couch. You obey and keep taking deep breaths. 

Slowly but surely, your heart rate starts to slow down and the fog in your head starts to clear. 

“You’re under a lot of stress,” Dr. Vidal says. “This is a case unlike nothing you’ve ever dealt with before.”

You frown. “How do you know–” 

“These killers are smart, dangerous,” she keeps talking like you didn’t speak at all. “But so are you. How are you going to catch them?” 

Shrugging weakly, you slump back against the couch. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit. “There hasn’t been one of their signature murders since I’ve gotten here, I haven’t been able to examine a crime scene or talk to witnesses or anything. All I know is that we’re looking for two women who are lovers.”

“Have you tried thinking like them? What do you think they want?” 

“What do I think they want out of poisoning innocent people with a drug they invented and then carving out their hearts? What does someone gain from that?” 

You try to imagine doing that to someone. Putting the poison in their food or drink, watching the light slowly leave their eyes as they try to figure out what happened to them. Their skin slowly tightening over their bones, cheeks hollowing out. Neatly sliding a knife into their chest and then holding their heart in your bare hands. A shiver runs through you involuntarily. 

“Power,” you answer your own question, knowing that you’re right. The fantasy has you feeling the same way as you did with Agatha yesterday, full of adrenaline and something else. Dr. Vidal has a strange look on her face, almost orgasmic, as you come to that conclusion. 

“Why do they want power?” she asks in a hushed voice. 

You bite your lip and hold your gaze steady on her. “Who doesn't?” 

Dr. Vidal falls to her knees in front of you so her face is almost level with yours. A thrill runs through you. “Do you?” she rasps. 

Gulping, you nod and then she practically lunges at you, mouth finding yours in a scathing kiss, all lips, teeth, and tongue, and you moan. Is this the arrangement her and Agatha have? What one gets, the other gets, too? 

Is it getting, or is it taking? 

Either way, it’s crossing a line, so many lines, but you don’t care right now. You need this. 

“Doctor,” you gasp and she chuckles into your mouth, hands delving into your hair. Your fingers scramble to yank at the lapels on her blazer and she climbs into your lap, the warm weight a grounding force for your spinning mind. She kisses so much like her wife, but also so different at the same time, and you can’t help but want to know what it looks like when they kiss. The thought causes heat to flash through you.

Her lips trail down your neck and then she sinks her teeth into your clavicle, the low-cut of the bathrobe giving her lots of room to work with. The pain makes you keen and 

Snow. 

Trees. 

A clearing in the woods. 

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut to get rid of the same images from your therapy session the other day. Dr. Vidal doesn't notice if you falter, leaving more bites all over your chest. Entangling your fingers in her hair when she unties your robe, you try to submerge yourself into the pleasure you feel. 

Her tongue sucks on your hardened nipple and you whine, back arching off the couch. “Please,” you pant and she pauses to grin at you. The electricity from yesterday is back, crackling under your skin with a vengeance, and you need Dr. Vidal to put it out. 

“Lie down,” she says and quickly stands up so you can move until you’re on your back, lying horizontally on the couch. She gets back on, between your legs, and pushes your robe apart so that she can see all of you. 

Her mouth finds its back back to your breasts and she nibbles on the underside of it, and then she moves down, sucking on the skin of your stomach. 

She pauses and you know immediately what she’s found. 

Before you can offer a short explanation for the ugly scar on the left side of your belly, her tongue licks up the length and you sharply inhale. Her eyes find yours to make sure it’s okay and you nod.

Kisses are peppered all over the wrinkled tissue and you rest your head back against the couch. It had been really hard for you to be naked in front of someone after that, and now here is your therapist, worshipping it like it’s a work of art. 

Dr. Vidal bites at your hip bone, resuming her quest downward, and it feels so good 

Snow. 

Trees. 

A clearing in the woods. 

A frozen stream that you kneel in front of and look down to see your reflection in. 

She sucks a kiss into your upper thigh and it pulls you out of your head, the memories flashing away. You try and grab back onto them, desperate to see who it was, but they’re gone. 

Your groan is out of frustration at first, but quickly turns into one of pleasure when she drags her tongue through the folds of your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck, Doctor,” you whimper, fingernails digging into the couch on both sides around you. 

Her deep laugh sends vibrations all through you and it makes wetness leak out of you. “I think you can call me Rio now,” she says and you nod breathlessly before she dives back in. 

There is no warm up, no building to anything; it’s like she’s trying to get as much of you in her mouth as she can. She is determined to not let a drop go to waste and her slurping sounds almost drown out the noises that are slipping out of your mouth. 

Her tongue thrashes against your clit, making your hips roll up against her face, and then she curls it inside you, stroking up to make you gasp. She sucks and swirls and licks and you’re getting ever so close 

Snow.

Trees. 

The frozen stream. 

You look down into it, peer at the reflection staring back at you and 

Two fingers are shoved into you while Rio roughly scrapes her teeth against your clit and it pulls an explicit moan out of you. 

“Rio, Rio, please,” you beg, almost in tears with how good it feels. You feel simultaneously so present and so far away at the same time and it’s like every single vein in your body has become a livewire, about to explode. 

She curls and scissors and twists her fingers, making you gasp and groan and whine. “What do you want?” Rio asks, her dark hazel eyes gleefully taking in your messy state. Your wetness stains her cheeks and you can’t help but clench. 

“I want to cum, I need to cum,” you plead and her smirk is wicked as she stuffs a third finger into you and watches you react as she flicks her tongue against your clit, barely giving you anything. Your eyes close in frustration at the loss of the intense stimulation that you need.

She sets a slow pace with her fingers and her mouth climbs up your body until she’s near your scar again. You tense when her lips press to it again. “You know, Agatha and I cannot wait to have you over.” 

“Really?” You gasp. You were right about the threesome then, it seems. It’s impossible to ignore how your body heats up at the thought. You didn’t know it was possible to want something this much. 

Rio chuckles. “Don’t be so shocked, doll. You’re such a pretty young thing. So smart, too. You’re everything that we’ve been wanting. We’ve been so patient, but you’re finally here now,” she coos and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You raise your head to ask what exactly she means when she leans back down to suck on your clit and harshly thrusts her three fingers into you, pulling a loud moan out of you as you cum hard all over her hand and face. 

Your mind goes blank for a second and there’s no thoughts in your head at all when

Snow. 

Trees. 

The frozen stream. 

You look down into it, peer at the reflection staring back at you and it’s ten-year-old you, staring back at you. 

Lurching back, you fall into the slippery wet mud on the bank, getting your clothes all dirty. 

You peek back into the ice and it’s still you, from over fifteen years ago. 

Laughter fills the air. 

Standing up and brushing your hands on your jacket, you follow the sound into a clearing in the woods. 

Snow crunches underneath your boots and you squint through the falling precipitation to make out something in the tree line. 

Something draws you in closer. 

A stick under your foot cracks and red birds flutter from the branches, startled.

The figure — a person, you can now tell — whirls around and 

“You okay?” Rio asks and it jolts you out of whatever you were seeing. You try to reach for the fleeting tendrils of the memory, but they’re too fast. 

You’re laying on the couch, Rio sitting back on her heels still between your legs. Her face still gleams with your wetness. 

You palm your forehead and wipe the sweat off. “The flashes from your office yesterday? I kept getting more just now. I think it’s a memory from my childhood.” 

“You were seeing things while I was eating you out? Not a great performance review,” she says, meaning to lighten the tension but she can see how serious you are. “Why don’t you tell me about them?” 

“It was snowing in the woods again. I was walking through them, found a frozen river, and saw the reflection of myself from when I was a lot younger, like ten or so. And then there was laughing so I followed it, and I think I saw a person,” you tell her, sitting up and tying your robe back together. The cold air in the room has given you goosebumps. 

She taps a finger to her mouth. “Did you see the person?” 

You shake your head and you try to force through whatever block is in your brain, but the thrumming behind your eyes comes back. “It disappeared right before I could. I don’t understand, I don’t remember any of this.” 

“Did you live someplace where it snowed around that age?” Rio asks gently and you frown. 

“I was nine when we moved to Massachesetts. We weren’t there for very long, only for a little over a year. I don’t know why we left though,” you say, the pain in your head getting greater when you strain to find the reason. “Do you think it could have something to do with what I can’t remember?” 

She shrugs. “Sometimes it’s best not to ask questions about things you don’t understand just yet. It seems that your memories, or this one specifically, are slowly coming back in pieces. Don’t rush it or you may not get the whole, true story. Let it come to you naturally.” 

“I’ve never had this happen before,” you admit, the fear of feeling like something is happening to you creeping into your tone. Is it something about this town? “I didn’t know I had this block, or whatever. But now that I’m here, it’s like I can’t stop getting these flashes. I think I’m losing my mind.” Saying it out loud makes it sound irrational, but you know Rio is listening to you intently. 

She reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. “You’re not losing your mind. Everything will make sense soon enough, I promise. You’ll get all the answers you want.”

“Why did you have my clothes?” 

Rio’s head ducks down in amusement, tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek again. It must be a habit, maybe a nervous one? “You really don’t remember?” 

You shake your head. You think you would at least partially recall it if your therapist had undressed you and taken your clothes. 

“You called me,” she says, and your jaw drops open. 

“No,” you answer faintly. “I mean, I did that first night, if that’s what you mean, but I never told you to come take my clothes.” 

“Yesterday,” she tells you levelly. “A few hours after I saw you. You asked me if I could come to your motel, you sounded really frantic. So I did. You were naked and you handed me the bag of clothes. I took them home, washed them, and now you have them back.” 

The pounding in your head gets worse. “You washed them?” 

Rio tuts and gets up from the couch, walking over to the soup that is still on the counter. She picks up a different spoon from the caddy, stirs it into the liquid, and then brings it over to you. “It’s still warm so eat it while you can.” 

She’s being evasive, hiding something about yesterday, but you can’t force her to answer the questions. So you raise a spoonful of chicken noodle to your lips and eat it under her watchful eyes. 

It’s about room temperature now, but there’s a hint of something else, tasting almost like syrup. 

“What’s in this?” You ask as Rio takes the spoon from you and feeds you herself after you stop after the first bite. 

She hums absentmindedly and your scar starts to tingle. She positions the utensil at your closed lips and raises her eyebrow until you open and swallow. “It’s chicken noodle soup, doll, what do you mean?” 

After a few more, your eyelids start drooping and your body feels fuzzy. “Did you…drug me?” Your limbs are limp and you slowly fall sideways to lean against the back of the couch. 

“You were sick. Some rest will help you recover,” she says like it makes perfect sense. 

“Are…you…The Witch?” The words take an immense effort and you heave with each one. You’re struggling to stay conscious and you know you’re about to lose the battle. 

Rio chuckles and it echoes around the room. “No, doll, I am not. And that’s the truth.” She stands up and pats her hands on her thighs. “I’m just curious about something.” 

You don’t even have the energy to ask about what. 

She strokes your hair and it almost feels nice with her nails. “You’re so brilliant, you know that?” 

Your eyes flutter shut just as she bends down to kiss your forehead. The door closes sounding so far away and then there’s nothing. 

When you wake up an indiscernible amount of time later, your mouth is incredibly dry and your head is groggy. It feels like your body is in a vat of molasses. 

Your muscles are tight and sore and when you get off the couch, you look down and realize that you’re naked again. You tear the room apart looking around for your phone and find it eventually between the bed and nightstand on the floor. 

It’s eight at night. 

You open it up and you’re about to text Rio and ask if she has your clothes again, but then you remember that she did this to you. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if she had come back and taken the robe just to mess with you. 

There’s something weird about the people here. 

Your phone buzzes with a call from Agatha. You raise it to your ear and accept it. 

Before you can say anything, she starts talking. “Hey, superstar, hope you’re feeling better. Would you be able to get down here? I’ll text you the address.” 

“Another murder?” You ask but she’s already hung up. 

Still a little out of it, you pull on some more clothes and get in your car. It’s about ten minutes away, still in the woods, in the other direction of the murder from yesterday. 

Two back-to-back like this indicates frustration or feelings of superiority. Do they want to be caught?

When you get there, you only see Agatha’s car though, and she’s leaning against it. You get out of yours and slam the door, walking over. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask. 

“I wanted you to get a look at this first,” she says and leads you into the trees. You don’t have to go very long before you stop. 

It’s the most blood you’ve ever seen in your entire life. It’s another man this time, but he’s spread eagle in the snow and there’s a long gash running from his chin down to his pubic hair, his chest entirely split in two. 

You gag at the smell and raise your hands to your mouth in case you throw up, but then you notice the metallic scent on them. 

Agatha shines her flashlight on you as you look at your fingers to find dried blood under your fingernails. You meet her eyes in horror, fear coursing through you. 

It doesn’t make sense. 

But Agatha doesn’t look surprised, or scared. If anything, she looks delighted. 

“I think you better come to our place tonight,” she says, and stretches an arm around you, tucking you into her side. 

Your breaths are shaky as she leads you back to her car, back to her house, to her and Rio. 

[afterglowkatie]

more than christmas | a.k.

alanna kennedy x reader | 1.4k | ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’

❆♡────୨ holiday season blurb event ৎ────♡❆

You felt a little tingle in the back of your throat a few days before you were set to fly out. A slight ache in your head and the rest of your body the next day that followed. But you tried to ignore it, hoping that you weren’t really about to get sick right before Christmas.

You and Alanna had planned to spend Christmas with her family this year in Australia. You always looked forward to having a summer Christmas, even if it still felt weird to you to celebrate Christmas in anything other than winter and snow. 

A slight tingle and a dull ache was easy enough to hide from Alanna, knowing if she knew you weren’t feeling the best, you’d be seeing an overprotective girlfriend that wouldn’t stop asking if you were sure you were alright a million times before your trip. Not that you hated it, but you didn’t want to ruin your Christmas and holiday plans, you knew how much Alanna had been looking forward to going home and seeing her family. It was something you knew she really needed lately.

‘What do you mean you’re not packed yet?’ You stifled a small cough, noticing how dry and sore your throat was.

‘Babe, chill, there’s still plenty of time,’ Alanna wrapped her arms around you from behind, pulling you into her, mostly trying to stop you from pacing around the house stressing. You melted in her embrace, the comfort of her arms doing a lot to ease the ache that kept spreading over your tired body, ‘Plus we won’t need much anyway,’ Alanna whispered against your neck, pressing a kiss against it. 

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Alanna’s arms away from you despite your body protesting, ‘Yeah we all know the real reason you invite me to spend summer in Australia,’ 

Alanna held her hands up in defence, ‘What can I say? I’m a simple woman,’ She smirked, leaning back against the doorframe, arms crossed against her chest while she looked at you. Imagining how you’d look in a few days time, tanning on the beach.

The day of your flight to Australia, you’d barely slept, being kept away with the ache that had tripled in intensity in the last day. You couldn’t find a way to get comfy, tossing and turning until your alarm went off and you realised you hadn’t actually slept at all. 

You laid on your back, staring up at the ceiling, wishing there was a way to not feel so much pain, a way for your throat to not feel like it’s closing up. When Alanna woke up, she thought you’d turned the heating up too much with how much warmth was radiating. Though she properly woke up when she turned over, lazily laying an arm over your stomach, realising the heat she was feeling was radiating off of your skin.

‘Baby?’ Alanna leaned up on her elbow to look at you, her voice soft and still laced with sleep. You had your eyes closed, your head hurt too much to keep them open, ‘Are you feeling okay?’ She could tell you weren’t really asleep.

Internally you groaned, opening your eyes looking at Alanna. You did your best to smile, though it did nothing to alleviate your girlfriend’s concerns. Your eyes didn’t have the same sparkle they normally did, your smile was barely one if you could even count it as a smile and the biggest giveaway was that you weren’t already out the door talking her ear off about everything you were going to do when you landed on the other side of the world.

Everyone who knows you, knows how much you love your trips to Australia. So much you’d even considered moving over there one day. Retirement in Australia definitely, with Alanna, definitely sounded like a nice idea. So the minute you weren’t yapping about the trip and already halfway out the door before Alanna had the chance to wake up, she knew you weren’t feeling well. Getting you to admit to not feeling good is always a whole other story.

‘Yeah, I’m fine Lani,’ You inwardly cursed your voice for sounding so broken and small, the opposite to how you normally would sound, ‘Come on, there’s a plane waiting to take me to a place I can devour my weight in chilli eggs and soak up three times the sun we’d ever get to see here,’ You tried to laugh but stopped when you realised it’d send you into a coughing fit, not something you needed when you were trying to convince Alanna you were fine.

Trying to convince her was short lived when you willed your body to move, despite it protesting any movement, you sat up seemingly too fast. Your head span, ears rang and your legs and arms were shaking. Alanna was quick to sit up and get to you so you didn’t fall on the ground. Wrapping her arm around you, moving to sit more behind you.

Alanna had a permanent frown etched on her face, only growing in her concern for you. You held your head in your hands, keeping your eyes covered, avoiding any light. Alanna had slowly but successfully moved you back to laying down, making sure to avoid layering you in the blankets since you were still radiating enough heat to heat up your bedroom.

Pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, rubbing your back gently, watching you relax into her touch before tensing as a new wave of pain surged through your body. Her eyes flickering between you and your suitcases that were in the corner of your room, packed and waiting for your flight, ‘I’ll be back in a minute my love,’ You let out a little hum to acknowledge the defender.

Alanna did what any good girlfriend would’ve done, even if she knew you would hate it not liking when your plans don't happen because of you. But if she’d let you decide then despite feeling like you’d been hit by a truck, you’d both still be on your way to the airport right now. She cancelled your flights, called her family and promised to find another time to visit. Ultimately understanding the last thing anyone wanted you to do was sit through like 30+ hours of travelling.

‘I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas,’ You were slightly more alive than before, laying against Alanna’s chest, her arms wrapped around you were better than any kind of blanket you could’ve been wrapped up in.

‘You didn’t ruin anything,’ Alanna looked down at you, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. When you looked like you were going to protest and disagree with her words she continued, ‘Being with you, making sure you’re okay, matters more to me than any Christmas plans we had,’ You didn’t have the energy to fight Alanna, instead letting her words drape over you like a comforting blanket. You hated when things didn’t go right, but you hated the thought of disappointing Alanna more.

You were still looking in the way of the tv, the quiet sounds of the movie filling the silence of your apartment. Alanna was still looking at you, a small smile on her lips, a softness in her eyes that she only held whenever she looked at you. Her hand found her way to your head, gently playing with your hair, knowing these little things did more to comfort you than anything else. She couldn’t help herself but hold you a little bit tighter against her and press more kisses to the top of your head, letting her lips linger.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, not from your slight fever, but knowing your girlfriend’s eyes were still on you. Even years later you still felt the swarm of butterflies in your stomach whenever Alanna’s gaze was purely on you. You both still felt the same way you did when you’d first met each other when Alanna moved to City.

You looked up at your girlfriend, your smile was bashful when you locked eyes with her, ‘I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world,’ Even more years could pass by and you know Alanna would still look at you like that, the thought that made you even more flustered under her gaze.

Alanna’s hands still gently comforting your aching body, she brushed a few strands of hair that had stuck to the light sweat that covered your skin from your small fever, her eyes never leaving yours, ‘Well, you are my world and the most important person to me, my love,’

[just-sg]

And if "just ignore them and write it anyway" doesn't overcome the anxiety, here's alternate advice:

Remember that these are opinions, and it is perfectly reasonable to consider others' opinions, but if you ask enough people, there WILL be mutually exclusive opinions out there. You CANNOT please everyone, as in it is literally physically not possible, you have slightly higher odds of your molecules lining up exactly the right way to jump through a solid wall. There is not a single decision you can ever make that will avoid the chance of someone not liking it; if enough people see your work, someone WILL have an issue with something, which means you don't have to worry about "what if". Might someone misunderstand? Might someone find it annoying or boring or upsetting? Immutably, yes; if the answer is ever no it just means not enough people have seen it yet. So stop trying to do the impossible!

And once you've got that part, think about what you can control. Look at the opinions you're worried about and actually break them down. Why does dirtysocks574774757 hate that trope?

If it's "overdone", is that actually a problem? Is it popular because many people enjoy it? Is it a little cliche, but something you personally enjoy seeing in other words even knowing that it is? Or if the problem with "overdone" is that it's overshadowing other good options, does anything else appeal to you? Is there a way you can add a unique twist to the trope, keeping what you like while also making it stand out and having all the more fun with it?

If it's "unrealistic", are you trying to be realistic? Is this an escapist fantasy or personal venting where making things better/cooler/gritter/edgier/whatever than real life is part of the point? Is pushing this idea harmful, and if so, what about it is the problem? Is there a way to address that part without avoiding everything even slightly adjacent to the trope with a 40 foot pole?

Remember that no one's opinion is objective law. Even if something is overdone to a point of becoming a stereotype, as long as that stereotype isn't spreading harmful misinformation or actively shitting on people, it doesn't mean you have to avoid anything that even might look close as much as possible at all costs, it means be careful.

Ex: Your gay character can be flamboyant, I promise; the problem isn't camp gays existing, it's when the one (1) gay character or couple in a series is always Like That and little if anything else. So just don't do that part! Remember context, too. It's very different having a whole group who all act a certain way vs a group where only one/some do, ya know? I know this post was more about pet peeves and stuff but I'm saying, if even stuff that can be genuinely bad doesn't have to always be, then you also definitely shouldn't be stressing harmless fun tropes.

Above all else: remember it's better to do something right than to do nothing wrong. There is no amount of effort you could put in to make your work appeal to everyone, but the closer you get to making it tolerable to everyone (still impossible to achieve fully), the less likely you are to appeal to much of anyone. So don't worry yourself to death (or worse, to a point of never making anything) avoiding everything that might be offputting. Instead, when you find yourself worried about a potential issue, examine it, weigh your options, and make a conscious choice about if you want to keep, alter, or scrap it. As long as you're being mindful about your decisions rather than just throwing things in with no regard, you should be FINE.

People relate to messy complex characters, and what one person finds "unrealistic" could just be a thing they don't get, but that makes someone else feel incredibly seen and validated. People like stupid indulgent fantasies! And if you need proof people will actively seek out and enjoy reading the same shit over and over, look no farther than "Coffee Shop AU" or "Only One Bed".

In the end, there's little more powerful than passion from a creator. Write what you like, write what you'd want to read, make the points you want to make. There will always be people who just don't like the things you like, and no amount of trying to water yourself down for them will make them anything more than tolerant. So write for you and the people who do like what you like, and put your whole body into it. Someone will always hate it and someone will always enjoy it, and the more you write something you enjoy, the more likely it is that the people who do like it will really, really like it. Don't hold yourself back!

hey, writers. especially neurodivergent writers with anxiety or OCD.

if you see one of those writing advice posts that is literally just, ‘these tropes suck’, ‘this story idea sucks’, ‘this sucks’, ‘that sucks’, ‘all of this is horrible’.. don’t dwell on it.

these are just random people on the internet, okay? they’re just acting like they know everything and that their personal preferences are universal.

you don’t have to listen to them, write whatever you want, regardless of if dirtysocks574774757 on Tumblr/Pinterest doesn’t like it.

(ahem, if a user by the name of dirtysocks574774757 from Tumblr or Pinterest actually does see this.. sorry 😅 i’m sure you understand)

[josushishushi]

A Love to Lean On | Mingyu x Reader

flulf, comfort | 748 words

Mingyu stepped out of the elevator, his smile unwavering as he jingled his keys in his hand. He was finally home after a long day at work, energized by the thought of seeing his one and only. Usually, she’d be waiting in the living room, curled up on the couch with her favorite show or rushing into his arms the second he walked through the door.

But tonight felt… different.

The apartment was dark, the curtains drawn, and the usual warm, comforting aura was replaced with a somber stillness. His smile faltered slightly as he called out, "Y/n? I'm home!"

No answer.

Mingyu frowned. He slipped off his shoes, setting down his bag carefully, and checked the living room—empty. His heart started to beat faster, worry seeping into his mind.

“Y/n? Where are you?” he called again, softer this time, heading towards the bedroom.

He noticed the faint sliver of light spilling through the cracked door. Mingyu pushed it open gently, his eyes scanning the dim room.

There she was. Lying on her side, facing away from him, her small frame curled up under the blanket. Relief washed over him, thinking she was asleep, and a soft smile returned to his face.

He stepped closer, but as the stillness enveloped him, he caught the sound—soft, muffled sobs. His heart sank.

"Y/n?" he said cautiously, his voice tinged with concern.

No response.

He sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, his hand hovering over her shoulder, unsure if he should touch her. He leaned forward slightly, trying to get a look at her face. “Y/n… what’s wrong?” he whispered.

It took a moment, but she shifted slightly, turning to face him. Mingyu's heart clenched as he saw her red, tear-streaked face. Before he could say anything, she sat up and threw herself into his arms.

“Y/n…” he murmured, holding her tightly. He cradled the back of her head, one hand stroking her hair in soothing motions. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here. What happened?”

Her sobs quieted just a little as she felt his warmth surround her, grounding her. She took a shaky breath before she spoke, her voice barely audible.

“I… I couldn’t do it today, Gyu,” she started, her words trembling. “I was so drained and stressed. I just couldn’t go to work. And everything… it’s too much.”

Mingyu’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt, gently encouraging her to continue.

“My coworkers…” she sniffled. “They always have something to say about me. It’s like—no matter what I do—it’s never enough. And what if I mess up tomorrow? What if they fire me? Then what? How will I live? How will I even—”

Mingyu shushed her softly, pulling her even closer as if he could shield her from the world. “I’ve been telling you to quit, haven’t I?” His voice was gentle but firm.

She pulled back slightly to look at him, tears still welling in her eyes. “How will I live then, Mingyu? Huh? Just quit and what? I can’t afford to just—”

“Live off of me,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She shook her head quickly. “You know I can’t do that, Gyu… I don’t want to be a burden.”

He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away her tears as he looked straight into her eyes. “You’re not a burden. You never have been. I want this to be the last time I see you crying alone like this, okay? I mean it.”

Her lips quivered, but she remained quiet, listening as he continued.

“Besides,” he smiled softly, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’ve always wanted to open a coffee shop, right? Let’s start there. I’ll help you. We’ll do it together, Y/n. Okay?”

Her tears flowed again, but this time they were mixed with relief and a fragile hope. “���M’kay, Gyu,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he said immediately, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But promise me one thing—next time you feel like this, call me. I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing. I’ll drop everything and come to you, okay?”

“…Okay,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest once more, clinging to him as if he were her anchor in a turbulent storm.

Mingyu smiled faintly, holding her just as tightly. “Good. Now let’s get you to bed, hmm? Tomorrow, we’ll figure everything out. Together.”

“Thank you gyu… love you…”

“I love you too”

[ang3lc]

the voices were whispering about poly!141 romancing a burlesque dancer!reader, this was a lot fluffier than i intended it to be, but here are some thots...

﹥ simon first sees you at a performance he’s dragged to, fully expecting to be unimpressed.

﹥ the second you step on stage, he’s captivated—not just by how you move, but by the power and command you radiate.

﹥ he becomes a quiet regular at your shows, always sitting in the shadows, watching intently. no cheers or whistles, just the unwavering focus of a man completely in awe. no, that's not drool on his balaclava, what are you on about?

﹥ when he finally speaks to you backstage, it’s brief but genuine: “you were brilliant out there,” his presence lingers long after he’s gone.

﹥ simon shows his care in subtle ways, like walking you to your car or standing by when someone gets too pushy after a performance.

﹥ his intensity can be overwhelming, but his quiet reverence makes you feel seen like no one else ever has.

﹥ johnny is the loudest, most shameless fan in the crowd, whistling and cheering without a hint of restraint.

﹥ when you glance his way mid-performance, he gives you a cheeky wink that’s more charming than annoying.

﹥ after your first show, he’s waiting backstage with an absurdly large bouquet of flowers and a grin that could light up a room.

﹥ he shows up to every performance after that, leaving little notes and even bringing snacks to win over your crew just to have an excuse to be around.

﹥ when you’re stressed, johnny knows exactly how to pull you out of your funk, whether it’s cracking the worst jokes you have ever heard or reminding you why you’re amazing.

﹥ his energy is infectious, and while he’s a goof most of the time, his loyalty and admiration for you run deep.

﹥ kyle notices you for your confidence onstage, but it’s the person you are offstage that truly hooks him.

﹥ his first interaction with you is understated—a warm smile and a thoughtful question about your routine that catches you off guard with its sincerity.

﹥ he doesn’t overwhelm you with attention but instead takes the time to understand your world, asking about your inspirations and the work behind each performance.

﹥ kyle’s gestures are small but meaningful: bringing you tea (or coffee, if you prefer. either way, it's just right.) during long rehearsals, sharing playlists he made just for you, or songs he think you should dance to (in private, though it's too soon to admit he wants that)

﹥ he’s the steady presence in your life, always knowing when to step in and when to give you space.

﹥ watching your shows, his pride is quiet but palpable, his gaze full of admiration that makes your heart race. when he sees you nail a move you were struggling with at rehearsals, he knows to reward you later.

﹥ john isn’t the type to fall easily, but something about you draws him in—your grace, your confidence, your unapologetic authenticity.

﹥ he doesn’t approach you immediately, choosing instead to observe, waiting for the right moment to move on you.

﹥ when he finally does, his words are simple yet deliberate: “you’ve got a way of commanding a room.” there’s a weight to them that makes you realize he sees you.

﹥ john is the one who steps in when things get chaotic, offering calm solutions and unwavering support. a strong hand to guide you.

﹥ he’s protective without being overbearing, ensuring you’re taken care of without trying to control your life.

﹥ his affection reveals itself in quiet moments—holding your hand late at night, his voice low and rough against your ear as he confesses how much you mean to him.

﹥ together, the four of them create a healthy mix of support and chaos that makes your world feel complete.

﹥ simon ensures you always have a safe place to land, offering strength and stability.

﹥ johnny is the light that chases away any shadows, making you laugh even when you think you can’t.

﹥ kyle notices the little things, ensuring you’re always cared for in ways that matter most.

﹥ john is the anchor, grounding you with his steady presence and unwavering reliability.

﹥ they tease each other constantly—johnny and kyle competing to cheer the loudest at your shows while simon mutters about “bloody fools” in the corner, john's too lost in the way your hips move to care about any of their rambling.

when the spotlight fades and it’s just the five of you, you feel surrounded by a warmth that makes you realize you’ve found your permanent home—in their arms, in their hearts.

mlist | @honestlymassivetrash

[unreadablehandle]

Oh my God, this is gold!

7. When I've captured my adversary and he says, "Look, before you kill me, will you at least tell me what this is all about?" I'll say, "No." and shoot him. No, on second thought I'll shoot him then say "No."

14. The hero is not entitled to a last kiss, a last cigarette, or any other form of last request.

12. One of my advisors will be an average five-year-old child. Any flaws in my plan that he is able to spot will be corrected before implementation.

60. My five-year-old child advisor will also be asked to decipher any code I am thinking of using. If he breaks the code in under 30 seconds, it will not be used. Note: this also applies to passwords.

20. Despite its proven stress-relieving effect, I will not indulge in maniacal laughter. When so occupied, it's too easy to miss unexpected developments that a more attentive individual could adjust to accordingly.

58. If it becomes necessary to escape, I will never stop to pose dramatically and toss off a one-liner.

29. I will dress in bright and cheery colors, and so throw my enemies into confusion.

42. When I capture the hero, I will make sure I also get his dog, monkey, ferret, or whatever sickeningly cute little animal capable of untying ropes and filching keys happens to follow him around.

49. If I learn the whereabouts of the one artifact which can destroy me, I will not send all my troops out to seize it. Instead I will send them out to seize something else and quietly put a Want-Ad in the local paper.

81. If I am fighting with the hero atop a moving platform, have disarmed him, and am about to finish him off and he glances behind me and drops flat, I too will drop flat instead of quizzically turning around to find out what he saw.

83. If I'm eating dinner with the hero, put poison in his goblet, then have to leave the table for any reason, I will order new drinks for both of us instead of trying to decide whether or not to switch with him.

69. Orphans will be placed in foster-homes, not abandoned in the woods to be raised by creatures of the wild.

101. I will not order my trusted lieutenant to kill the infant who is destined to overthrow me -- I'll do it myself.

117. No matter how much I want revenge, I will never order an underling "Leave him. He's mine!"

129. Despite the delicious irony, I will not force two heroes to fight each other in the arena.

138. The passageways to and within my domain will be well-lit with fluorescent lighting. Regrettably, the spooky atmosphere will be lost, but my security patrols will be more effective.

2. My ventilation ducts will be too small to crawl through.

141. As an alternative to not having children, I will have lots of children. My sons will be too busy jockeying for position to ever be a real threat, and the daughters will all sabotage each other's attempts to win the hero.

155. If I know of any heroes in the land, I will not under any circumstance kill their mentors, teachers, and/or best friends.

158. I will exchange the labels on my folder of top-secret plans and my folder of family recipes. Imagine the hero's surprise when he decodes the stolen plans and finds instructions for Grandma's Potato Salad.

168. I will plan in advance what to do with each of my enemies if they are captured. That way, I will never have to order someone to be tied up while I decide his fate.

173. Although it would provide amusement, I will not confess to the hero's rival that I was the one who committed the heinous act for which he blames the hero.

184. I will hire a drama coach. The hero will think it must be a case of mistaken identity when confronted by my Minnesota accent (if everyone sounds American) or my Cornwall accent (if everyone sounds British).

213. I will not wear long, heavy cloaks. While they certainly make a bold fashion statement, they have an annoying tendency to get caught in doors or tripped over during an escape.

220. Whatever my one vulnerability is, I will fake a different one. For example, ordering all mirrors removed from the palace, screaming and flinching whenever someone accidentally holds up a mirror, etc. In the climax when the hero whips out a mirror and thrusts it at my face, my reaction will be "Hmm...I think I need a shave."

... This Dungeon List is Copyright 1996-1998 by Peter Anspach <Anspach@aol.com>. https://web.mit.edu/jemorris/humor/evil.overlord

I think the coolest rule off of that old "Rules for Evil Overlords" list is this one:

68. I will spare someone who saved my life sometime in the past. This is only reasonable as it encourages others to do so. However, the offer is good one time only. If they want me to spare them again, they'd better save my life again.

This is genuinely a driver for amazing plot moments - a villain who, despite the fact that their plans would be demonstrably much easier to enact if the hero was dead, feels compelled to spare them.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 22

(Sebek's fur is sticky and somewhat uncomfortable to touch for very long. This is because- though it looks like fur- it is actually very thin and fine crocodilian scales that shed like fur. His 'fur' feels like twine mixed with sherpa. He does shed a LOT but he is double-coated and quickly becomes compacted. He needs to be brushed at least twice a week to keep it looking good. Lilia or Silver usually brush him, but he cries in joy when Malleus brushes him.)

Warnings; Yandere, multiple yanderes, platonic intentioned yanderes, romantic intentioned yanderes, yandere vs yandere, yandere teams, social media team vs guard team vs outsiders team, Lions can't purr but magic lions can purr, loose yandere alliances, social grooming behavior, foreshadowing for those text analysis savvy folks, cooking, a new group of yanderes have entered the chat, Grim is a little brat to everyone except his Human, Hellcat, Gnoll, Werewolf, Nemean Lion, mention of Dragon, Raiju, Cervitaur, and Vampire Bat, Harpies galore, Water Nymph, Drider, Merman, Bakeneko,

~~~~~~~~

Grim purred sleepily as he lay across your shoulder, watching you cook away and marveling at the warm smells of food. Like the many times you had cooked prior, you knew there would be many following their noses to the kitchen area of the dorm and you figured Ruggie was busy keeping guard. If there was one thing that was certain no matter where you were, it was the fact that Ruggie would be nearby any time you were making food.

Though a few days had passed, you had finally felt like you were getting accustomed to the behavior of the dorm and their enigma of a Dormleader. The entire dorm acted like one big pride of lions despite being made up of many different species. It was likely due to the fact that Leona was the leader of their group, so they adhered to the social customs of their leader. Luckily for you, it was part of the Lion's social customs that females and Cubs- as he seemed to affectionately call Grim- were regarded to be a rank above most males of the group.

At first you had felt a certain animosity from the group, now it felt like you were some kind of precious pet put on a pedestal to be admired but never touched. No, the only three who were allowed near you or Grim were the three assigned to guard you. Leona was a particularly strong enforcer of this expectation and even ran off several of his own dorm members for getting too curious about you or the kit.

You felt a bit more at peace with Jack, but there was still a strong stress that ate away at your comfort any time the Wolf was nearby. Sometimes you could stand to be almost brushing against his fur with how close you let him get, other times you startled when you saw him enter a room. Jack was quite patient despite your mixture of warm and cold attitudes towards him and always seemed to take it in stride. At least his presence seemed to somewhat be helping you come to terms with what had happened.

Ruggie was thrilled to be at your side any time he had the chance, especially whenever you were cooking something. For your morning and evening meals, Ruggie had always been a constant and had even become part of your schedule. Honestly, it would have felt wrong to be at any other dorm because then Ruggie wouldn't be able to whine and cackle for food at meal times.

Beyond the two, the Lion King himself had been quite the persistent presence in spite of his usual refusal to attend classes. He didn't try to keep you from classes again following the rough reprimand from the lovely Selkie, but he did start showing up to any of his classes that overlapped with your own. Leona had been akin to a frightening beast that stood just behind you, making most run away before they even worked up the courage to approach you.

Apparently it had been a good call to stay in the dorm of the Lion, as Ramshackle had more than a few unwelcome visitors in the time you had been away. Idia ensured to tell you about every poacher or thief that tried to get in- always angrily chastising the 'failing protection ward' around the school- and how they were subsequently given a rather shocking reminder that you were not an easy prize to obtain. Hearing about it really didn't offer you much comfort, but it seemed to give Idia some pride to know these interlopers were repelled by his inventions.

You had not seen hide nor hair of Malleus yet you always felt like you could hear the faint sound of thunder in the distance. Even when you thought you were alone, it was as if somewhere in the back of your mind you felt like you were being watched. Silver had checked in many times in the past few days and never seemed convinced when you told him you were alright. Lilia also seemed to seek you out between classes and was far clingier than he had been before.

"Hey, Mama?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"I like it here and all... But I miss home."

You paused at the almost sad tone Grim had as he looked up at you with those large blue eyes of his. He had seemed to be getting along with everyone in the dorm- or they all at least tolerated the kit- but his words concerned you.

"Do you miss Ramshackle or are the students here not being nice to you?"

"Lion-a-guy makes sure they're all nice to me, but I still wanna go home. The beds here aren't all big and soft like the nest. Lion-a-guy is warm, but he isn't like cuddling Antlers or Bat-wings. I kinda even miss Loud-Dog."

You almost snorted at the names the kit had given the other Hoard members, knowing he wasn't the best at remembering names. That or he truly didn't care enough to learn their names. Either way, the kit's casual naming of the group was rather adorable and straightforward.

"Even Sebek? Seems like you're feeling homesick."

"Home-sick?"

"It's where the newness of somewhere wears off and you get tired of being somewhere other than home. You want to go back home enough that it feels like a chore to be anywhere else."

"Yeah! Like that! I miss Tsuno too. He always made sure you were safe. I guess Lion-a-guy does that now, but Tsuno does it better. Even Flames, Sad-Guy, and Fire-ball aren't too bad."

It took a moment to figure out who the last three were, but once you recalled Papa Hades and the Ignihyde dorm leaders, it wasn't too hard to figure out who was who. Naturally, you held Grim's opinions on the others in high regard and it was nice to get a gauge on his views of them.

"What do you think about Ruggie and Jack?"

"Chuckles is funny! He always looks so silly with his tummy up in the air after he eats, but I don't like that he wakes us all up for that dumb training. ... I don't know about Fluffy-tail. I don't think I like the wolves, Mama."

"Yeah. I'm trying to relax around Jack too. You have to remember, he isn't like those other Wolves. He hasn't chased us or tried to hurt us, but I get it. It's hard to just forget what happened, especially so soon after."

Grim frowned at this, his ears drooping down and he rest his chin on your shoulder. It had occurred to you shortly after your injury that Grim was not going to be okay and would need help to handle what happened. Here was this little kit who had been trying to survive alone for his entire early life. He only recently has learned the comforts of a home, a consistently full stomach, and protection. Naturally he would be deeply rattled by anything that threatened the comforts of his home. You were one of those comforts.

"Grim, Honey, I think we need to have a talk with everyone about that day."

"But... it hurts."

"I know. But it also hurts me to know you saw everything that happened. I wasn't even awake for what happened when Tsuno found us. These kinds of things... They hurt. They hurt a lot to talk about, but it helps the hurt feel less painful when we face it. But if we don't talk about them, they become like injuries that are infected and hurt even more."

"I don't like thinking about it..."

"I don't either, but if we never address what hurts or why it hurts, we can never really heal from that injury."

Grim looked from you, to the stubby and ripped up wings on his back. The torn limbs stretched somewhat before he pulled them tight against his side.

"Like my wings?"

"Sort of. Your wings were hurt beyond what your body can fix. Papa Hades said he could possibly fix your wings, so it will take outside help to heal them. It might take outside help to heal the hurt, but we need to talk about it first to see what it is we need to heal."

Grim nodded, gently pressing his forehead into your chin as he began to purr again. You were quick to reciprocate that affection to the little kit that snuggled closer to your neck. A thought briefly crossed your mind as to what you would do if Grim couldn't go with you to your true home and your heart hurt at the thought of leaving the small kit behind. If it truly came down to it, you didn't know if it was worth abandoning the kit to go back to your true home.

"How about we finish up breakfast and then we can see about chatting with the others, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!"

~•§•~

You looked out at the group of Savanaclaw students practicing for the Spell Drive. You still struggled to grasp the rules of this seemingly odd game, but Leona only seemed invigorated by your presence. Apparently the seven chosen to play- Ruggie, Leona, and Jack included- had been benefitting greatly from the meals you cooked them. Even the four students you didn't know well seemed to be energized and strengthened by the meals you created.

Every time Leona scored or managed to block the unfortunate students selected for the opposite team, he would turn to you with a cocky grin. It almost seemed like Leona was showing off just for your sake. Truthfully, it bothered him more than he would admit to see you weren't looking up the many times he had glanced at you.

You were busy texting several of the staff members to run your idea by them, hoping they could provide more insight into the situation. Divus was of the mind that you and Grim both needed to share what happened to help yourselves move past it, but he insisted it was a staff only matter. Trein was of the mind that the Housewardens and the Vice-Housewardens should be included in these talks as they would have to be the ones to help comfort you on particularly bad days.

"You gonna look at your phone all morning, Mousey?"

A low growl rumbled from beside you and you almost jumped, not noticing the Lion's approach before he was standing right next to you. Your obvious lack of awareness displeased the proud Lion, as he was of the belief that you should be watching the team soundly beat the competition. Still, he was willing to let you explain your actions before growling out his frustrations.

"I'm talking to the staff, Leona."

"About what?"

"About what happened that day."

This made Leona's ears angle back, displeased by his own memories. He had seen blood plenty of times before and had been on the hunting side prior. Still, seeing your life fading away so quickly and how vivid the blood looked after your attack, it was not a pleasant memory for the Lion.

"... What about it?"

"Grim and I... We aren't okay. Sure, my leg has healed quickly thanks to Professor Divus, but I don't think either of us are still actually okay with what happened. Hell, I don't even like thinking of it, most days. Jack has been a great help, but I just... It's hard to not see and hear those Wolves when he is around. I still don't think it's fair to him to have to do all of this, but I do think Grim and I need more than just exposure therapy."

Leona sighed, sitting next to you as you pet the torn up ears of the Hellcat. He knew you weren't completely comfortable and he had seen the negative reaction your Cub had to any mention of what happened that day. Even now, the little Cub was shaking and pressing close to your stomach, curled up tightly in your lap.

"Your physical wounds have healed, but the mental wounds still exist."

"Yes... It feels like I'm always being hunted... Watched... I feel so worried about things, even when I know I'm safe."

Leona stayed silent for a moment before you felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you and Grim onto his lap where he held the both of you gently in his arms. It was an oddly comforting feeling to have the Lion cuddle you in such a way. Sure, he had been much more snuggly in the past few days since you entered his dorm, but this somehow felt different.

A deep almost growling purr came from the Lion as he held you and Grim securely in his arms, comforting you and attempting to soothe you. As you relaxed in his arms, the large Lion nuzzled your cheek and hummed. Soon you felt a warm, rough, and semi-wet muscle slowly drag across your cheek as you realized the Lion was trying to groom you. Much like Lilia, Leona kept the grooming gentle and did not attempt to hold you closer, so you could escape if you wanted.

Something about the act was incredibly soothing despite how you had once reacted to Lilia's grooming attempts with incredulity. Maybe you were just getting used to the way the beastly men showed affection and camaraderie. Perhaps you just wanted comfort and recognized that this was how the monster men showed and gave that comfort.

Ignoring your phone, which has begun to buzz almost angrily, you lifted a hand to pet the Lion. Lilia said grooming was a way to show you were thankful, so why not pet the Lion that was trying rather hard to soothe you. As your hand rest on his fluffy ears, the purring only got louder and the Lion tilted his head into your touch.

Leona was much softer than you had expected him to be, his golden and dark ashen tresses flowing between your fingers. His ears were almost soft like kitten fur with just a touch of roughness to them that made the texture feel unique under your hand. Even Grim seemed content as the Lion rest a large hand atop the kit's head, petting him gently.

It was the loud and now incessant buzzing of your phone that drew you out of the petting feedback loop you had begun. On the screen was Crowley's number ringing angrily and buzzing with now several missed calls.

"Yes-?"

"Oh thank goodness! My little chick, you shouldn't worry me like that! I was calling to tell you about the increased security I managed to secure for the Spelldrive. How about you and your guards come up to my office so we can talk about it?"

"But, they're busy practicing-"

"Good! See you in a bit!"

You sighed at the brisk way your complaints were pushed aside. Leona was frowning deeply and his tail flicked with annoyance as you lowered the phone. No doubt the Lion had heard and understood the words of the Headmage, setting you back down on the bench and off of his lap as he stood.

"Alright, you lot! Enough for this morning. The Crow wants to talk with the Human, so that means Jack and Ruggie better have their asses showered and ready to go in five minutes."

Both Ruggie and Jack raced away to the showers, not wanting to displease the leader of their pride. The others actually seemed crestfallen at being told to hold off their practice. It was a far cry different from that first morning where it seemed like the other students were dragging their feet. Maybe the meals you made them really did help to energize them in some way.

"Aren't you going to shower too, Lion-a-guy?"

"Eventually, and you know my name is Leona."

"... Stinky Lion-a-guy."

"Hey-!"

~•§•~

You walked behind Grim who happily led your group forward to the Headmage's office, his tail waving as he pranced ahead. Leona walked with you, glancing outside at the storm that seemed to have been raging for several days. You wondered if it was possibly Malleus but there was no way he could keep a storm going for days on end like this, right?

"We're here!"

Grim called out, using his little paws to somewhat shove the doors. Despite how much he tried to push both doors open, they barely moved for the kit. Instead, you gave them a subtle push to help the kit and he smiled excitedly at you as they swung open, allowing you all entry.

"I did it!"

He cheered and leaped up into your waiting arms, purring and completely convinced he had managed to push the large doors open for the group.

"Yes, you did. Good job."

Grim purred as you entered the office, seeing there were already several others waiting along with Crowley. You easily recognized Vil, Rook, Divus, and- surprisingly- Cater. It was the others you didn't really recognize.

Standing with the Owl Harpy who you recognized as the head of Royal Sword Academy were three others students. Che'nya was among them with an ever relaxed and lazy grin on his face, his pronged tail waving behind him to match the relaxed appearance. There was a Harpy boy with black hair, ruffled up and mixed with gentle gray feathers, his wings reminding you of a mourning dove's patterning. The third was what seemed to be a merman with deep maroon hair and bright blue eyes. His scales held a gentle green tone to them and he somewhat reminded you of Cater despite the purple clam-shells that decorated his crisp white uniform.

"There you are, my precious baby bird," Crowley was first to sweet forward, ushering you away from Leona who just glared at the Harpy as he dragged you closer to the desk and further from the group, "I would like to introduce you to a few of the Royal Sword Academy students! Ambrose has kindly offered to have his students aid in your protection for the upcoming Spelldrive Tournament, since it will only be Night Raven students playing this time round. Though there will be many RSA students keeping watch, these three have been selected specifically as your guards for the day of the Spelldrive-"

"Wait," Leona suddenly spoke up angrily, "hell no! Savanaclaw are the ones selected to guard her this week! Not these pompous-"

"You will be participating in the Spelldrive as will Ruggie and Jack. None of you will be able to keep an eye on my precious little bird while you are playing, Leona."

This made Leona growl, crossing his arms but refusing to argue as the Crow was correct. He knew he wouldn't be able to do both at once, but he was still angry about it regardless.

"My dear (Y/n), this is Neige Le'Blanc, Erikír Helmsman, and Artemiyevich Pinker. They will be keeping an eye on you during the Spelldrive and ensuring no poachers try their luck."

Che'nya's ears went back at the last name listed and you figured that was his actual name instead of the one he commonly went by. Despite how unhappy the feline seemed about the naming mishap, he seemed genuinely happy to see you as he easily walked forward.

"Well, hey! Only been a few weeks since I last saw ya but even still, good to see your axe wound healed. How's Mr. Up-tight-Rule-Monger?"

"Riddle's good. Still mad at himself, but he probably will be for a while."

Crowley didn't seem overly pleased at the familiarity from Che'nya but he didn't stop the feline from wrapping an arm around you. Grim didn't even seem that angry and you wondered if it was because he recognized Che'nya from Riddle's Overblot.

Upon seeing Che'nya behave in such a familiar way, it encouraged the two other students to approach. You heard the faint sound of a bird-hiss from Vil as the other smaller Harpy approached you with his wing-tips slightly dragging on the floor behind him. The Harpy seemed rather sweet as he looked at you with large brown doe-eyes and a gentle smile.

"Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Neige Le'Blanc, but you can just call me Neige."

"Hi, Neige. Nice to meet you."

Before the third man could approach, Vil cut in with a deep tone and clear disdain for the Royal Sword Academy students standing before him. His multi-colored wing blocked you from shaking hands with Neige, the proud Harpy glaring with his crest raised and his eyes narrowed.

"That's enough of that. How nice they agreed to help, but (Y/n) is a Night Raven College student and these boys should remember that."

"Vil," you scolded gently, the Harpy frowning petulantly as he turned to plead with his eyes, "don't be so uncouth with them. It's only fair I get to know them too if they are going to be helping me out. No need to brush them off like they are nothing."

You could see as the feathers on the neck of the Harpy ruffled an extreme amount, huffing and crossing his arms in frustration. Begrudgingly, he moved his multi-colored wing so the final student, Erikír, could walk up to you. The man had a smooth jawline and his green scales complimented his dark red hair, only seeming to add to his purple clam-shell decorations. He was quick to drop to one knee, kissing the back of your hand and almost seemed to relish the feel of your skin against his scales.

"A pleasure to meet you, beautiful (Y/n), truly a pleasure. You are even more breathtaking in person than Che'nya could possibly describe. Prince Erikír Helmsman of the Coral Sea, at your esteemed service."

"The pleasure's all mine, Prince Erikír."

"Please, just Erikír will do. Or Erik, if you would like."

Grim growled softly at the Merman who seemed to heed the warning of the little Hellcat, backing off to give you both space. As you tried to familiarize yourself with the group standing before you, Rook was the next to interject.

"We are all here now, allons-nous?"

"What?"

"Right, I assumed our esteemed Headmage didn't tell you. We're going to be starting those social media pages today, so we need to get outfits and pictures properly taken. With such a popular and famed cast, we can surely get several photos taken that will shed a favorable light on you, my lovely Mademoiselle Trickster."

Vil then spoke again, picking you up far too easily and setting you on the large Drider's back despite your surprise. It seemed like even Cater was displeased with the RSA students even though Rook spoke highly of those present. You got the strong sense that there was going to be friction between the students of the two schools, but hoped they would be able to keep it mostly to a minimum.

"Now, let us away to somewhere with better lighting and start this photoshoot!"

You nodded, allowing Rook to carry you. Behind you, Leona and Vil locked eyes, nodding in silent agreement. Those RSA students would not get the chance to get their filthy overly kind hands on you if the two Housewardens had anything to say about it. A loose alliance forming between the now irritated Dormleaders against these insufferable Royal Sword Academy students.

[demigod-shenanigans]

May I offer the campfire scene as another underrated Valgrace moment?

The thing is. Jason doesn’t want to be the leader he’s always made to be. He’s currently standing there probably having an internal stress breakdown because he doesn’t even have his memories and something is clearly wrong and strange about him and everyone else is picking up on it, too.

He knows he’s supposed to pick a Hephaestus kid for this mission and Nyssa all but acts like going with him is a death sentence.

But then Leo stands up, and suddenly Jason isn’t alone. People actively try to stop Leo from volunteering for this mission but he wants to go so much that he’s getting up anyway.

And suddenly Jason doesn’t have to carry it all alone.

No one expects Leo to go on this quest. No one would criticize him if he wasn’t the one to go. Unlike Piper, who knows she has to go due to what’s going on with her dad, Leo volunteers purely because he wants to.

Piper expects Jason to reject Leo’s offer. Hell, very likely Leo was expecting him to reject it, too. All Leo’s so far managed to do in Jason’s presence was construct that little helicopter that ended up dropping into the Grand Canyon, getting tossed off the skywalk and getting knocked halfway unconscious.

But Jason just looks at him and smiles and goes “we started this together, of course I want you with me :)”

Something something Leo feeling wanted and valued in a way he never did with any of the foster families.

Then Leo learns this whole thing is terrifying and still doesn’t back down. He plasters on a smile and jokes and stands by his decision to go with Jason, even if it’s dangerous. That must have meant the world to Jason.

[rayshippouuchiha]

The Lone Wolf Dies

End-Class Princess: the Other Assassin

In which Takeshi looses the plot, Kurokawa Hana ends up dragging him along with it anyway, and a dog starts to revert to a wolf.

—

The first day of middle school, Takeshi hears some classmates sniggering about a prank they played on Sawada-Chan. They seem so pleased with themselves, at the reaction that Hibari-Senpai will have when she makes it to school tomorrow. Takeshi frowns slightly. Sawada-Chan is nice. She didn’t deserve that. He resolved to try and be extra nice to her when she came back.

—

Takeshi is restless. Sawada-Chan hasn’t been at school all week. They’d had a test already, and everyone had laughed about his low scores, saying that at least he had baseball. It stung worse than usual, turning his head slightly and not seeing a distressed pair of brown eyes and wringing hands. He hadn’t realized that he kept an eye out for her, or noticed that she worried about his grades. It’s been a week, surely she’s not sick? Hibari-Senpai has been rougher than usual too.

—

It’s a month into the new school year, and it feels like he’s the only one who’s noticed that Sawada-Chan hasn’t shown up. Everyone else seems to be forgetting about her altogether, except Kurokawa-San. She occasionally glances at a particular empty desk and frowns.

—

Takeshi squints his eyes shut to hide his irritation, flashing a toothy grin. To be honest, it feels more like he’s baring his teeth. The baseball team is getting on his nerves. Before, he’d been able to work it out on the diamond, the sheer physicality and camaraderie of the team pulling together soothing him. But as the weeks drag on, it works less and less. The team favors him as a star player, but they seem to be pulling less of their own weight.

He tells himself he’s just being overly sensitive. This year has just been unusually stressful. Once he adjusts to middle school, it’ll get better.

(He glances at an empty desk, than away. He accidentally locks eyes with Kurokawa-San doing the same. Maybe he should see if she wants to talk.)

—-

Kurokawa-San seems to be the only other person who’s noticed that Sawada-Chan hasn’t been to school once. Even Sasagawa-Chan just brushes it off with a vague, “who? Oh, Dame-Tsuna! Do you think she had to go to another school for extra tutoring?” She’s nice about it, at least.

Kurokawa-San is surprised when he points out no one has seen her in town either.

“I didn’t think you paid her that much attention,” she stated. “Huh. I suppose even a monkey like you can tell what would happen if you asked her out.”

It’s not that. It’s just. He didn’t realize how much the glimpses of her had settled him down before. Right now it just feels someone is rubbing sandpaper on the inside of his skin. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, it always happens over the summer. Usually it goes away when school starts up and he can play baseball. But baseball isn’t working like it usually does. Sawada-chan’s mysterious disappearance gives him something to focus on so he doesn’t use his bat like a shinai and makes the second string players run faster.

His dad would be upset if he did that.

—-

Takeshi realizes intellectually that he should be proud to be playing an away game in his first year of middle school, even with his less than stellar grades. He’s more distracted by imaging all the ways he could really hurt people. Kurokawa is helping, a little, ever since she noticed his struggle to keep his smile up.

“Stop pushing yourself around me, like some sort of stupid monkey,” she said bluntly. “I know you’re a wolf, try not to go rabid.”

He’s pretty sure people are starting to think they’re dating, the way he seeks her out. She mostly doesn’t care, and uses it as an excuse to get away with physically grounding him. The desperate rasping inside him is growing worse.

If this keeps up, they’re both worried he’s going to kill someone. And not even Hibari-senpai is paying enough attention to notice.

(She would have.)

—-

Takeshi whips his head around as they’re escorted to the sports field. Had that been, Sawada-Chan? What would she be doing here?

—

After the game, the coach lets them wander around the market a bit, as a reward for winning. Takeshi takes him up on it, managing to shed the usual hangers-on that he has after a game. The sandpaper and chisels that have been steadily working away inside his skin are joined by anxious jangling bells. He can’t figure out what’s wrong with him.

“Yamamoto-kun?” A familiar voice rings out, puzzled.

He turns and the bells go silent, the chisels drop away from his bones, and the sandpaper pauses. Sawada-Chan is staring at him, pale amber eyes meeting his properly for once, a cloth bag slung over her shoulder. Takeshi beams at her. Oh. So this is why Kurokawa called him a wolf.

“Sawada-Chan! How have you been? Kurokawa and I have missed you,” he comes up to talk to her without hesitation. He’s almost dizzy as whatever has been clawing at him finally quiets down.

—

Eventually, he manages to convince her invite him back her place. She leads him to an apartment, tossing him concerned looks from the corner of her eye. Takeshi feels something in him preen in pleasure. He’d never noticed her do that before, but the feeling is very familiar. She has worried about him, and not because of his baseball skills.

She looks good, her shoulders held back and her gaze steady. He had never noticed her eyes were so light before, almost the same shade as fossilized amber. She’d always had her head down before. Takeshi likes it.

“I texted Rika-Chan, she said it was alright to lend you her slippers,” Sawada-Chan pulled out a pair of guest shoes for him.

They were still a little stiff, but he was too distracted by how many pairs of shoes were tidily tucked into the shelves of cubbies by the door. While she’d been gone, she’d become close enough to a lot of people, close enough to have guest slippers. He ruthlessly suppressed the urge to mess them up. What if she got mad at him and threw him out? He wasn’t ready to face the noise yet.

—

Her apartment was small, but cozy. There was a beat up old kotatsu where she was putting some tea for him, and a faded couch. There were little touches everywhere that called to mind comfort. (He liked the amateur ink painting of a puppy of some kind, tripping over its paws chasing a ball.) Takeshi was seized by the desire to roll around the whole place and never leave. A plate of dumplings, lopsided and mismatched, found themselves next to the tea.

—

Eventually, he has to go, but he managed to spend several hours talking to Sawada-Chan. She’s bolder than she used to be, but still doesn’t say much. Takeshi is pleased with himself when he manages to get her to forget to be wary and snark back at him. She even let him take a nap on her couch while she did homework leaning against it.

No wonder she’s in Kunugigaoka now. He doesn’t even know where to start, and she’s flying through the worksheets.

—-

There’s a slim hand nudging his shoulder. It’s not Kurokawa, and it’s not his otusan. His hand snaps up, snake quick, to latch onto the wrist. He misses. It’s so unusual, that he actually pauses before remembering where he was.

“Oh, sorry, Sawada-Chan!” He grins desperately. “I didn’t recognize you!” Please don’t send him away. He doesn’t want to have her shrink away from him again. He doesn’t know what he’d do if she flinched from him. Kurokawa is getting better at genuinely not flinching, even when she gets cut by the edges he can’t hide anymore.

“It’s fine,” he almost collapses as she waves it off. “But the buses are going to stop running for the night, your otousan has already called you.”

—

He gets her number before he lets himself be ushered out the door, nearly running into her neighbor who eyes him suspiciously. Not even Takeshi’s best sheepish grin erases the unfriendly look in the man’s eyes. It, probably didn’t help that he was disheveled, and still smelled a bit sweaty from the baseball game earlier. It didn’t look good, a teenage boy walking out of girl’s apartment looking like that.

Takeshi avoided his gaze and hurried to the bus depot. His otousan had been pleased that the reason he’d gone missing was running into a friend and loosing track of time, and not something, else. But he’s heard the warning to make it back tonight, and so had Sawada-Chan. She’d all but thrown him out the door, tugging on a worn pair of running shoes to lead him to the bus depot in time to catch the last bus to Namimori.

As the bus tumbled into the night, he wonders when he can make time to come back again, and how many times it will take before his shoes have a space in her entrance.

[heich0e]

the suna where he asks if you'd have a baby with him

ask game: a christmas drabble from an established AU AU: wouldn't it be nice?

you've never been particularly good at giving people presents.

not for lack of trying, or lack of care—you want to be good at gift giving, but somehow you've just never quite mastered the skill. you're too indecisive to pick just one thing, so you always end up with a strange mismatched array of little gifts when the time comes, none of which have any particular connection to the other.

and that's to say nothing of your absolutely horrendous gift wrapping abilities.

before you started dating rintarou, christmas was always a real point of stress in your life. from picking out the gift, to tracking the item down, to trying (and ultimately failing) to wrap it in a way that didn't give the impression that a child had done it one-handedly. the stress that built up around the holiday often overshadowed any of the actual enjoyment you were meant to derive from it. and though none of your exes had ever explicitly called you out on being a god-awful gift giver, you knew that it was true.

thankfully, in that way that only rintarou seems to be able to do, that problem just... disappeared when the two of you started dating.

maybe disappeared is the wrong word, but that anxiety that you always used to feel cresting as the holidays drew near just never seemed to swell to the same point of misery as it used to. you never felt the same pressure to pick the perfect thing. to wrap it beautifully. to get it right.

because rintarou has this way of... reassuring you. of sensing when you're struggling and making things... easier. all without ever having to ask.

"i'm not big on gifts," he'd said to you, a full three weeks before your first christmas together. "wanna just go somewhere for the holiday, instead of buying presents? i've got some time off and have been thinking about going to kyoto."

and that settled it.

each christmas since then has passed similarly. either rintarou makes a plan, or very explicitly tells you what he'd like to get as a gift, and when the time comes, any of that stress that used to build up around the day just never even has the chance to take root.

but this year, there's a different sort of nervousness you feel about the holiday.

"my mom sent us a card," rintarou says, coming around the corner of your living room with a little red envelope in his hands. "she invited us to visit for the new year, too."

you shift in your seat under the kotatsu, looking up as he stands over you. "do you want to go?"

he sighs, slumping down onto the sofa behind you. "not really."

"we don't have to, then, if you really don't want to," you assure him, leaning back against the sofa so you're a little nearer to him. he inches forward on the couch cushions to close the gap even further. "but it might be nice to see your family."

rintarou isn't particularly close to his parents, who divorced when he was young. of his family members, the nearest to him is his little sister—and their relationship had largely been built once they both reached adulthood.

"last time we went to see my family my grandma tried to take you to a shaman to get you pregnant," rintarou replies dryly. "you sure you wanna go through that again?"

"i don't think the shaman was the one who was supposed to knock me up," you point out, and rintarou huffs out a laugh. you turn away from him a little. rintarou's grandmother was tired of waiting for great grand children and had tried to use shamanism to speed the process along—it had ended in an argument over a family dinner. "you two really are related, huh?"

"what was that?"

you peek at him over your shoulder.

"i think we should go to see them."

rintarou's brow quirks slightly at your words, and you lean forward so your elbows are resting on the edge of the couch cushion.

his eyes are always so green when you're this close to him, lined with those dark wispy lashes. so pretty. delicate and effortless in a way that would upset you if he wasn't already yours.

"you really wanna go?" he asks you quietly, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips when he speaks. you nod a little, and your lips brush because of the proximity—not quite a kiss, but enough to make him lean forward in search of one.

you pull away before he gets what he's looking for.

"and you can tell grandma that we won't need the shaman this year."

because she's already gotten what she wanted.

he blinks at you, and then his eyes widen, and before you know it he's sitting bolt upright on the sofa with a look of utter disbelief on his pretty face.

just like always, rintarou made gift giving easy this year.

only this time, the present is something you'll both cherish equally, because it's something you've been wanting, too.

[https-murdock]

3:12pm - matt murdock

summary - Matt is always listening, even when he’s meant to be working.

word count - 1.3k

warnings - MDNI 18+ - phone sex, dirty talk, use of good girl and having rules in the bedroom, female masturbation, please tell me if i forget anything!

note - first time writing phone sex eeee, sorry if it’s shitty :) love u all (credits to og pic poster)

— — —

Matt listens - that’s obvious in many ways, but mostly in the way he can tell exactly what you mean, what you feel, just by the tone of your voice.

The way your voice heightens, pulls at the strings of his heart every time you laugh - like the most beautiful song he has ever heard. Often, he hears the way you drawl, drag the words out when you tell him how much you love him - he even hears it in the way you say it too quickly before you leave for work in the morning.

But the thing Matt loves most in this world - was listening to the change in your vocal chords as you fell apart beneath him. The way you became breathy, almost drunk on his touch, and he could always hear it in the way you begged for more of him.

Not being able to see you sometimes bothered him - but he got his fill from hearing you, hearing every change, movement and lift in your voice wherever you were - because, as you know, Matt listens. It didn’t matter where you were, what you were doing, Matt knew about it - to make sure you were safe, of course.

That’s why he was looking for your contact in his phone as soon as he heard your breathing, the way you whimpered - he knew exactly what was going on: you were touching yourself, and there was no way in his God’s hell he was letting this happen without him at least having a part in it.

After all, what good was having superhuman hearing if he didn’t put it to good use?

It was 3:12pm, and unfortunately for him - and you - Matt, Foggy and Karen were all swamped with cases, files strewn everywhere there was no way he could get off early, not matter how much he was so desperately craving to fuck you into the matress as stress relief. So, instead he chose the next best option - calling you while he finally had a few minutes to himself in his office.

“Hey, baby.” You answer, and it just confirms his suspicions when your voice comes through the speaker light, breathy - exactly how it was when he had you falling apart. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asks, skipping past the beginning of a conversation in search of the truth.

“I-i’m-“ you stutter, a little giggle leaving your throat before you hear him start again.

“What did I say, sweetheart?” He starts, and he knows exactly what the answer will be before you even say it, so he doesnt let you respond before he carries on, “you think i can’t hear you getting yourself off without me?”

As your heart starts picking up speed, you realise he has been listening this whole time; he has been listening to the way your fingers glide through your slick, already sensitive to touch at the thought of him being home in a few hours - could you have waited for him to get home? Sure, but did you have the patience? No, you didn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Matt, i just couldn’t wait for you-” As you start to explain, you can hear the way he sighs in his disappointment.

“Lay back down, if you're not gonna wait till I get home sweetheart, I'll just get you off now, is that what you want?” Matt grunts down the phone, feeling the way his suit pants are tightening just at the mere thought of your moans being for him even when he isn’t there. “No, no please baby i’ll wait till your home, i need you.” You bed, and the lift in your voice tells Matt how desperate you really are, realising he won’t touch you tonight after the way you’ve acted. 

There wasn’t many rules you need to abide by to stay in Matt’s good books, but there were a few - do as you’re told, beggars can’t be choosers, and - obviously - no touching yourself unless he allows it. 

“You chose to try to make yourself cum without me, accept the consequences. Use your fingers sweetheart, let me hear you.” He instructs, and the seriousness in his voice sends a rush of warmth right to your core as you lay your head back into the pillows.

Listening and obeying his rules, you let your hand dance its way back down to where it was before. Whimpering when you feel yourself clench around your middle and ring fingers, you can hear the immediate effect you’re having on Matt - he’s enjoying this more than he cares to admit. You put the phone on speaker and carry it down to where he’ll be able to hear the obscene sounds of the way your wetness leaks from you with each thrust of your fingers, and there becomes so much more as soon as you hear him grunt, “Fuck.” 

Your fingers find a rhythm, curling gently but firmly inside your walls, your whole body screaming out just for Matt’s touch. Nothing could ever feel the way he does.

“Good girl, you like the way that feels? Feels better than when i touch you?” He asks, and you mumble something like, “N-no, wish it was you.”

“Mmm, would’ve been me if you’d have been a good girl for me. Would’ve been buried so deep inside you, fucking you like a good girl deserves.” He starts to palm himself gently under the desk, craving to feel some form of release.

“Being so good for me now, listening so well.” He approves, and the gravel in his voice sends a shiver right down to your toes, the way it does when you hear him whispering in your ear how much of a good girl you are for him.

“M’sorry, wanna come so bad.” you plead, and your voice trails like some form of whine - somehow even wetter than normal knowing he was listening to you moan his name, in his bed, all the way from his office. “Rub your clit for me sweetheart, but you can’t come yet, not till i say so.” Matt tells you, and he’s stern still, not letting up on the frustration you’ve caused him.

You do as you’re told, rubbing tight circles and listening to the slick sounds from between your thighs - Matt’s deep voice on speaker phone on your chest, one hand knuckle deep the other furiously trying not to bring you to release without him allowing it. You think about begging him for a second, knowing it’ll get him off even more than you are right now - but you want to save him for when he’s home, save all his tension for when he walks through the door and spends the night taking you in every place in his apartment.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” he’s whispering to himself, and you can feel the way your lower abdomen tenses at his words, orgasm building strongly across your body.

“I-fuck, baby i’m gonna-“ you gasp, and Matt can tell by the sound of your raspy breathing and the way your blood rushes around your body that you’re trying to hold back, but you’re right at the edge. “go ahead, honey, come for me.” he grants your exact wish, and the moment you let yourself tumble is when Matt decides he’s leaving early - no matter what Foggy and Karen have to say.

Your head hits the pillow behind you as everything takes over, fingers working yourself through your high as you can slightly hear Matt grunting through the speaker on your chest. Vision showing spots of white, your muscles tense as you wonder if you’ve finally entered heaven.

“Not sure if you can hear me still, but i’ll be home in 5.” Matt tells you, hanging up the phone immediately but still listening from his office to the way you try to control your breathing.

Matt knows the second he gets home, his night is about to be a long one - and not because of the mountain of work he has.

— tags <3 —

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @audreyclimbs @pupmurdock @millennial-birkin @poeticbookwormcat