#when it was still snowy outside actually

[hypewinter]

Dick stared out at the snowy landscape past the window before turning back to his new baby brother. Danny was sitting in his high chair, happily munching away at some Cheerios. Looking at him now Dick thought back to how he had come to Wayne Manor just a few months prior.

Bruce had stormed into the Manor after coming back from a Justice League mission with a bundle in his hands. Dick who had stopped by the manor to steal food catch up with Alfred had been thoroughly thrown off by his father's open animosity. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen Bruce this outwardly furious. The man's glare alone could rival Darkseid's omega beams. As Bruce sat down at the table, the two men finally got a good look at just what he was carrying. It was an infant. An infant who was fast asleep, his soft black hair falling over his eyes. Bruce quietly asked Alfred to prepare a room as well as all necessities needed for a baby. The old butler had immediately set off to just that.

Meanwhile Dick was quick to ask what had happened but Bruce didn't say. Even when the others gradually found what was happening and asked their own questions, he still refused to answer. Not even Alfred had been told where the baby had come from. The only information Bruce had offered up was that the baby's name was Danny and he would be staying at the Manor from now on. As for the rest of the details, he claimed he would tell them in due time. But Batman's "due time" was often too late to actually do anything about it so desperate for answers, the family had turned to their own investigations only to come up with nothing.

All files related to Danny were locked behind a mountain of firewalls and Oracle had apparently already been sworn to secrecy by the big man himself. Whatever it was, Bruce wanted absolutely zero interference, so for now, the family was forced to sit in their hands.

That led till now, 5 months later. It was mid-January and Dick was on babysitting duty. Everyone else was either out running errands or on a mission. Not that Dick minded though. Danny was incredibly cute and he loved taking care of him. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to get Danny to see him as the favorite brother. Still, Dick couldn't help but feel couped up today. Maybe it was because it had been snowing the last few days leaving both boys alone in the giant manor all day long.

Dick stared wistfully out the window once again before an idea dawned on him. He turned back to Danny who had stuffed the last of the Cheerios into his mouth along with his entire hand.

"Hey Danny. Wanna have a snow day?" he asked cheerily. The boy cocked his head at Dick, hand still in mouth. Dick smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes!"

Dick hoisted Danny out of his high chair and carried him upstairs to his room. After he set Danny down in his crib, he grabbed all the gear he needed. He picked out a long sleeve shirt with a cartoon star and big bold letters reading "You're a Star!" He also grabbed long socks, some elastic pants as well as jeans, a scarf, a blue beanie, and a pair of cute little mittens.

It didn't take long for Danny to be fully dressed for the outside elements. Though after Dick finished putting his shoes on, he squirmed a little and made a face.

"I know I know," Dick cooed. "But I'm pretty sure B. would make an exception to his 'no killing rule' if you got sick on my watch."

Dick admired his handy work for a minute (taking dozens of pictures as he did so) before picking his brother up and heading downstairs. After a quick pitstop at the door to grab his own jacket and gloves from the coat rack, he opened the door and greeted the chilly air outside.

Danny giggled as he reached up at the snow while Dick circled around to the side of the manor.

"Bitey! Bitey!" he squealed.

"Yep, Bitey," Dick replied with mild confusion.

Danny would say random things like that sometimes, forcing the world's greatest detectives to put their minds together in order to figure out what he was talking about. One time he just wouldn't stop saying "Em". It took everyone a whole day to realize he was referring to music. And an extra two days to figure out he was specifically referring to pop music.

Oftentimes he would call Barbara "Jazzy" and Duke "Tuck". On occasion he would even call Cass "Sammy". Every time he called something a new name, it was a race to figure out what he meant. Each time they figured out a new word, Bruce's face would darken and he'd disappear off to the Watchtower for the day. Something that was really starting to drag on Dick's nerves. It was like it was physically impossible for that man to share information.

Dick was startled out of his thoughts by a tug at his jacket and looked down to see Danny staring at him.

"Sorry sorry," he said with a smile. "Lost in my thoughts. Forgive me?"

Danny put on a pout but Dick knew by now that it was fake. One could tell by the mischievous look in the boy's eyes that he just couldn't hide. "So be it then!" Dick declared before pulling Danny close and snuggling into him. The boy shrieked as cold nose touched warm neck. "Fo-give! Fo-give!" he cried.

"Aw thanks," Dick said as he pulled away. Danny giggled again, his bright blue eyes crinkling with laughter.

The pair walked around in the snow for a bit longer before Danny started making grabby hands towards the ground. "You want down?" Dick asked. Danny nodded energetically.

"Alright."

Dick carefully set Danny down in the snow. The boy excitedly wriggled before putting his hands down to the snow. As Dick watched, there was a burst of light and suddenly there was a semi circle of ice, radiating out from their position. Dick stared at the ice in shock. Danny turned and blinked up at Dick, almost as if he were in shock too. But he very quickly went back to playing in the snow. Dick swallowed. Sure they all knew Danny had powers. It was pretty obvious when the third day there, he floated up to the ceiling. Still though, he highly doubted ice powers was up there on anyone's list of "abilities our new baby brother might manifest next."

Dick was so shocked all he could manage to utter was, "Huh. That's new."

[signedkoko]

Orders Up!

Looks like someone requested a.. squints eyes at notepad Vox xReader who’s VERY out of touch with technology! They BARELY know what a ‘phone’ is, and have absolutely no idea what his head could be other than an oddly shaped box. Maybe they lived in the Forrest in their past life?

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you don't get what this whole fuss about technology is, but you'll try it for Vox. Reader is genderneutral.

When you first arrived in hell, a lot came as a surprise

Going from the snowy mountains of solitudal living to the middle of the first city you'd ever been to was a lot to handle

Overwhelming, really

You know about the world and what's outside; you've seen photos in books, but you were never interested in it

So here you were, surrounded by the humming of electricity and the loudness of cars—music blasting at every corner

It was a lot

You and Vox met many years later, though you'd found yourself a quieter place to settle, you were still close enough to the bustle to run into people, and run into people you did

Well, he kind of forced it- Vox thought you were just the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, so he ran straight into you and played it off as 'clumsiness' when he caught you

You'd seen a lot of things in hell, but whatever he was wearing on his head was just strange

He'd meet with you frequently outside of his work hours, and he's probably blown away at how you don't know him or anything about the Vees!

" I mean, not to brag or anything, but I kind of run all of television. "

" Tele...vision? "

" No fucking way. "

Hes then asking what you thought his head was, and hes almost crying from how hard hes laughing when you can only answer with shapes

Though I think he enjoys the refreshing feeling of meeting someone with no expectations about what or who he is

Even when he tries to give you his personal number, he's surprised when you say you don't have a phone

Jesus, you really weren't kidding.

He will set you up with everything you need—I mean, who better to give you tech assistance than the very CEO himself?

You get only the newest, the best, although you don't really get how to make use of it, which kills him at least a bit inside

Probably makes custom shortcuts for you so you don't have to navigate too much because, Jesus, are you ever bad at it?

God forbid you ever move in, Vox is actually stressing so hard on how you'd cope with all the smart home features his building has.

Author's Note - You may be dumb but he love syou so very much...to be fair he couldn't survive a day without tech so thank god you're adapting to him!

[pupkashi]

“can i hug you? you look like you could do with it”

a/n: hi friends ! i hope u all enjoy this :] thank u for the request and sorry for taking so long :( i feel like this is slightly ooc for satoru but oh well :P

wordcount: 1,661

masterlist

you always watched gojo from a far, always a bit intimidated by the much taller sorcerer. he was carefree, always standing up to the higher ups in ways you’d only daydreamed of. he always spoke his mind, never once holding his tongue when it came to insulting those he disliked.

you’d always give him small smiles, telling him good morning and to have a good evening the times you had passed by him, not wanting to seem rude.

he would always say it back, continuing the conversation with you until you parted ways. he’d stand up for you during meetings, never allowing the higher ups to disrespect you. anytime he’d see your eyes widen a bit at the mention of a mission that seemed too difficult, he was quick to offer himself up in your place.

“don’t you geezers think i should take the mission on? y/n had something planned for the students anyway” he says, anger evident in his voice, but he’s shooting you a smile and a thumbs up as he speaks.

“fine, you can take this one gojo” one of the higher ups say, “y/n you’re free to leave.”

gojo watched you with a love struck look on his face. one you didn’t notice as you were too busy scurrying out of the room, trying your best to not get on the higher ups bad side.

after the third meeting of gojo taking on your missions you decided you should at least thank the man. you approached him shyly, giving him a small smile and saying hello, gojo smiled brightly at you, asking how you were.

the two of you clicked fairly quickly, eating lunch together when you could and making easy conversation. you’d listen to him gush about the first years and shit on the higher ups and he’s listen to you rant about your day and talk about the shows you were watching.

it’d only been a couple weeks since the two of you actually started to get to know each other, but you considered him a friend of yours, even if sometimes you did wish it was more than friendship.

you find yourself walking the empty halls on a thursday afternoon, the clocks ticking in the classrooms as you passed by them, heading towards your office to finish up some paperwork before the higher ups would get onto you for it. the setting sun causes golden rays to leak through the countless windows, shining on you as you continue down the halls.

there’s a cool breeze as you step outside, a sigh as you hold onto the papers in your hands a bit tighter, walking towards the garden area to cut through and get to your office a bit quicker.

a mess of snowy white hair catches your eye, making you slow your steps.

gojo satoru sat on one of the many benches, his elbows resting on top of his knees, chin in his hands. his uniform was a bit scuffed, you could only assume he’d gone out on a mission and only recently returned.

his eyes were covered by the familiar black blindfold, but there was a small frown on his lips. you debated not cutting through the garden today, leaving your new friend unbothered, but your body make the choice for you, already walking towards the strongest sorcerer with a small smile on your face.

“good afternoon gojo” you greeted, still a couple steps away when he turned to look at you, his entire demeanor changing to his usual cheery self.

“hey y/n! whatcha up to now?” his head titled a bit to the side, the mannerism reminding you of a puppy.

“just paperwork, how bout you?” you reply, sitting next to him on the bench, setting your papers down next to you, phone placed on top so they didn’t fly away.

“oh the usual,” he sighs, tilting his head back with a sigh, “thinking about my students, the future for the Jujutsu world and our place in the universe” he laughs dryly and you chuckle softly.

“but hey! there’s nothing gojo satoru can’t do” there’s a strained cheeriness to his tone, it’s makes your chest tighten. a tight smile paints his features, one that doesn’t even reach his eyes like it usually does. his shoulders are slumped and there’s no confident aura like there usually is.

now it’s your turn to frown, looking at him with gentle eyes before you’re speaking up, “can i hug you? you look like you could do with it” your face is burning and your heart is racing.

gojo is looking at you dumbfounded, did you really just ask him that? did someone tell you about his little crush on you?

“sorry! i didn’t mean to cross a line since we just-” you begin, your hands waving apologetically before you’re cut off with his arms around you.

the sudden contact renders you still for a second, then you’re snaking your arms around his neck, letting one of your hands find purchase on the back of his neck.

he’s burying his face in the crook of your neck, you can hear a soft hiccup leave his mouth. you don’t mention it, you only squeeze him tighter to you, trying to hold him together, trying to show him you’re there for him.

“it’s okay” you whisper, “I’m right here for you.” your words seem to strike something in him, as his grip around you tightens, his arms are firm around your waist, his fingers gripping the fabric of your uniform, as if he was scared if he let go you’d disappear.

it’s only minutes later of your hushed reassurance that he’s loosening his grip on you, pulling away with a bashful smile on his face.

“if we weren’t friends before we certainly are now” you smile at him softly. the words elicit a chuckle from the sorcerer.

“who told you?” he asks suddenly, following your movements as you pick up the stack of papers next to you.

“told me what?” your brows are furrowed softly and he can’t help but think of how adorable you look.

“‘bout how i like you” he smiles, his confidence already back in full swing as he’s grinning down at you, loving the way you grew flustered at his words.

“what?! no! nobody told me anything!” you shriek, suddenly holding the papers tightly to your chest, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.

“huh, figured you would’ve noticed by now” he mumbled, “you didn’t think i was taking on all your difficult missions as a coincidence did ya?”

you’re speechless as you stare at the man infront of you, never once did the thought of the gojo satoru having feelings for you cross your mind.

“well- i mean i thought it was” you sputter out, “why would i think anything else” you laugh nervously, “i thought you were just being nice!”

satoru is just smiling at you, shaking his head and watching the way the gears turn in your head as you ramble on.

“- and so i didn’t want the entire world to just implode you know?” you look up at him, slightly out of breath and your eyes still a bit wide. “what?” you grin, taking in the way he’s looking at you, not exactly sure what he’s smiling about.

“so you do like me? or was that whole metaphor not really a metaphor and the future of the world is in the palm of your hands” his head is cocked to the side again, a cocky smile on his lips and you’re rolling your eyes.

“yeah” you breathe out, looking anywhere but him, trying to slow down your heart rate as you realize what you’ve just admitted and who you’d admitted it to.

satoru doesn’t care that your poor heart’s going a million miles an hour, he’s putting his hand under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he has a soft smile on his face, one that grows wider when he notices the way you squirm under his touch, flustered beyond belief.

“how about dinner tomorrow at 7? I’ll pick you up” there’s a reassuring calmness in his voice that makes you smile back at him, nodding and replying with an ‘okay.’

it’s quiet for a second between the two of you, but he’s quick to break the silence.

“thank you,” he clears his throat before elaborating, “for being here for me,” shifting in his seat as you look at him.

now it’s your turn to stare at him while his eyes are darting from plant to plant. you’re biting back a small smile as you reply, “course, I’ll always be here.”

satoru studies your features, only finding genuine kindness written across your face. the same kindness that made his mornings a bit brighter and his late nights less exhausting. the same smile that makes lunch breaks feel too short and missions away much too long.

the two of you sit on the bench long enough for the moon to say hello. both of yoh staring up at the sky and it’s stars, your hands rest in the space between the two of you, pinkies brushing every once in a while.

satoru is the first to make a move, linking his pinky around yours before diving in and intertwining your fingers with his.

the two of you continue talking, neither one of you daring to acknowledge your linked hands. the blush on satoru’s cheeks was a secret kept between the moon and him, and the way your stomach flipped was kept quiet between the stars and yourself.

when you finally do reach your office, it’s only to set your paperwork down on your desk, closing the door and taking satoru’s hand back in yours.

“ready?” he asks and you nod, letting him wrap an arm around you and hold you close to him, giggles leaving both of your lips as he walks you home.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Hello! I’d love to read your vision of the LoD boys x MC in high school. (High school to adults, just high school, childhood. Anything!) Alllll the cliches appreciated, haha.

Coming-of-Age HC's with the LADS Guys

pairing: fem!reader x Zayne, fem!reader x Xavier, fem!reader x Rafayel

content: fluff, alternate universe (kinda)

Childhood with Zayne is filled with increasingly hot summers and snowy winters. It’s memories of an extroverted young girl dragging along her much more introverted best friend (well, Caleb’s friend first) to make popsicles under the blaze of the June sun and snowmen in the cold of January. In the same way snow melts with the coming of spring, you chip his shell away, making a friendship that’s stronger than any of your lifetimes.

Those years with Zayne are like a pleasant dream, soft and gentle, like his hand when he wipes away the tears from your cheeks whenever you fall or when he places a band-aid on one of the many injuries prone to an adventurous spirit.

Middle School with Zayne is when you first feel fragility in your friendship. You’re realizing you might be growing in different directions.

Zayne is intelligent, often getting attention for his grades and participating in scholars tournaments while you’re busy with your own hobbies and friends that come with them.

There’s hope your friendship will persevere each time you walk home together, each time he lets you share his umbrella on heavy rainy days, and each day he saves to spend with you.

High school with Zayne is confusing. Growing into adulthood is an exciting and nervous situation for anyone but even more-so when everyone but you seem to realize that you have feelings for your childhood friend.

Your grandma is constantly reminding you how smart and handsome Zayne has become. He’s going to study to be a doctor, you know! Maybe you should ask him to prom?

Caleb complains about how Zayne usually takes your side in arguments and does what you want all the time. He frequently teases you every time you sigh over the older boy. Isn’t getting a crush on your older brother’s friend too obvious?

They’re right though, and it’s awkward. What’s more awkward is the stolen kiss with Zayne in the new car his parents got him when he first got his license. You don’t talk about it even after he goes to college.

Meeting Zayne as an adult is nostalgic yet new as you learn about each other again. The trust you had in each other never truly left.

With each trinket, you realize he’s still the same Zayne, quiet and stern on the outside but with a patient and gentle center. However, his smart mouth still rears its head as frequently as it did back in high school.

You watch out for him more as an adult, because you see that he isn’t actually good at caring for himself despite all his intelligence. You make it so he can rely on you to get through the past days and future ones.

You try new things together. You adapt to how your views of the world differ so you can mold those differences together, creating one shared experience in the life you build with one another.

Childhood with Xavier is innocent. Being born on Philos is like being born in a fantasy book. Your world is sword training and ceremony rehearsals, your feet always chasing after the decorated knights and lightseekers before they board their spaceships. In your mind, the world is as limitless as the starry sky promised just beyond its surface.

Xavier is the same way. He says he likes sword training because it’s the only thing he’s good at. Truthfully, he loves that sword, carries it around with him everywhere like a third arm, and you love training with your new fellow student.

As you get older, things start to change for reasons you don’t really understand. The loss of innocence is slow, dragging out like the death of a star. It starts when silly days sword practicing becomes military drills. Then, Xavier’s ceremony rehearsals become real with each trial he has to overcome. It culminates when you find out that he will probably be betrothed one day against his will, which manifests into doubt that you would ever be on the list for a prince to marry.

Military Academy with Xavier offers a surprising amount of freedom as you discover yourself away from the watchful eyes of the royal family. It’s reintroducing him to your favorite snacks and music and sneaking out of the barracks to watch the stars and anything else he couldn’t do under the iron grip of his family.

There’s also many nights helping him study and focus so he can become the best version of himself because he still has rebellious tendencies after all these years.

These tendencies lead you to covering for him and also him talking you into one too many bad ideas. Ideas that leave you carrying one another home on stumbling legs after too many rounds with random wanderers or rounds with liquor way stronger than you know how to deal with.

It’s okay. You have each other to keep the other safe, so attached at the hip that Jeremiah always wonders where the other one is whenever he catches the two of you apart.

His light shines only for you. If you asked, he would give anything to make sure you’re happy: his time, his freedom, his life.

The jealousy and longing to be with you grates against the cage his title keeps around him whenever he sees someone else who has seen your light and fallen in love with you too. It’s written love letters, never signed, but left in your locker, the ones that smell like forget-me-nots and written in a prose that Xavier hopes you won’t recognize as his when he sees you fawning over the little notes.

Your looming graduation reignites the worries about your relationship. You have to come to terms with your respective role as a knight and Xavier as King. Xavier feels the same way.

Yet this part of your life quickly becomes filled with sweet nothings – promises to run away together, carried on his wishes to be with you for the rest of immortality, all wrapped in the little star charm carried on his sword. It makes you realize your feelings were requited all along.

Adulthood with Xavier fills like achieved dreams and nights you never want to end. It’s basking in the company of one another, adorned with kisses and released longing that couldn’t be given years prior.

It’s becoming more than just his guiding starlight but his entire galaxy, and he shows it with each kiss he gives you.

Childhood with Rafayel feels like you’re dreaming. Mermaids aren’t supposed to exist but there’s one right in front of you.

You learn so many things from him. He loves talking about almost anything from his culture to your culture. He loves art, the sunset, and music.

You bring him lots of things from land that you think he would like, spending long days at the beach trading items with him and showing him human toys. It becomes normal to strike out early every weekend to meet the Lemurian boy again and again.

He braids Lemurian ribbons and clips seashell accessories into your hair. He teaches you Lemurian lullabies and sayings. He often gets in trouble for accidentally gifting you family heirlooms without realizing the weight of said items. He just thought it was pretty. Even if he got in trouble, it was worth it to see you smile.

Your time together eventually develops into trying to think of ideas to explore further from the beach. You train to hold your breath a little longer with hopes of making it further into the sea than last time.

Your first kiss is because of the legend that Lemurian kisses can let one breathe underwater. It wasn’t really a big deal back then. However, the memory of it makes your face hot many years later when you think back on it.

The end of summer marks the slowdown of your free time together. It always ends with a pinky promise to spend your next free day with him.

Your 8th grade year with Rafayel is a collage of photos and videos filled with cawing seagulls, the serenade of his harmonica, and the first time your feet were able to touch the surface of the water. Rafayel always seems to want to show off his new powers as the next God of the Sea.

He’s still a child though, which means he is still insistent to sneak to school with you to see what human classes are like. He still talks too smartly to the other students, and you still have to talk him out of a fight with one of the other boys.

It’s an exhausting day but he seemed to have fun running around town with you, saving the day in the strip of pictures printed out from the photo booth and the memory of his first surface world sunset.

Your later teenage years offer even less time together but each time you visit him feels more meaningful than the last even though you can’t go further than the crackle of a bonfire at the edge of the beach. You’re happy with these late nights though because you love the boy from another world.

No matter how many years pass, he’ll always be the boy who gets shy and makes excuse after excuse to avoid singing for you despite being born a siren. He’s the boy who constantly complains about his classmates being idiots for saying you’re going to steal his blood and make him into oil and how they tease him for being friends with a human. He refuses to tell you that it’s more because of his crush on a human. Despite all that, he has no issue dropping hint after hint about how Lemurians can bond with others by giving one of their scales.

Years later, it still makes a lovely necklace to wear when he finally makes his choice to be on land, with you, his beloved bride.

[buggybambi]

nurse cupid | carmen berzatto

claire and carmen used to date. you work under claire, and are now dating carmen. what a fucked up triangle ─ 1.33k cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used

Ever since you were young, you knew you wanted to be a nurse. Every career day at school, your answer was the same: "I want to be a nurse and help people!" usually written in yellow crayon.

So, managing to score a job in an ER in Chicago was a dream come true. You loved Chicago and your charge nurse, Claire, was one of your closest friends. Emphasis on was. That was before you and Carmy met.

Carmen Berzatto. The boy you met through Syd, one of your oldest friends. After weeks of back and forth flirting, you and him finally asked for each other's numbers and set up a date, much to Syd's apprecation since all he talked about outside of work was you and if you were stopping in.

Claire only found out about your relationship with Carmy after he insisted taking you to work one particularly snowy morning, leaving you with a goodbye kiss.

That day, she gave you more work then usual. More charts, more patients to watch over and check on, and that was on top of your usual work load. Plus, everytime you asked her a question she gave an exhausted sounding sigh and explained it to you like you were a child, with a condescending tone in her voice.

"Claire." You walk over to her, setting the charts (filled out) down on the desk. "What the hell is your issue with me today? You've been giving me your patients and frankly, your attitude towards me is passive aggressive. If there's something I did, tell me what it is and I can fix it." You request.

Her pager beeps as she hums. "The chief wants to see you." She says, beginning to walk off, and you follow her.

──

As soon as you stepped foot into the chief’s office, you knew what was happening. One of the ladies from HR you’d met once before, the chief, and Claire. Sat around a coffee table.

“Hi Y/n. Glad you could join us.” You know that’s HR talk for “glad we summoned you, let’s tell you what you did wrong.”

You sit down, noticing the look Claire gives you. It’s almost a glare.

“Mm. Can I ask what this is about?” You question.

“Well, Claire here has a feeling that you’re trying to shove a personal relationship in her face. I understand you are dating her ex and she just feels that-”

“That you’re basically trying to remind me of what Carmen and I went through. What we once had.” Claire cuts Aileen (the woman from HR) off, tilting her head at you as she waits on a response.

You stare at her, actually letting out a mix of a scoff and a laugh. “I’m sorry? Claire, Carm and you broke up nearly a year ago. Why are you still hooked on him?”

“This isn’t about me. You knew damn well I’d be at work this morning when he dropped you off.” “It was freezing cold! He didn’t want me walking or taking a cold train, so he offered to drive me since it’s on his way to work. He gave me a kiss and I never even brought it up to you.”

“Ladies!” The chief cuts you both off. “Aileen has agreed to investigate this further. Y/n, refraining from engaging with your boyfriend for respect of Claire’s feelings would be best.” He encourages.

You actually have tears in your eyes from the frusturation, your hands shaking from where you sit. "I'm sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?" You ask softly, standing up before they answer and practically running out of the room.

You barely make it out before you hear the office door shut, not by you but by Claire. "Y/n-"

"What the hell did I do to you, huh? Is this because Carmen and you broke up, or maybe because I didn't come running to you asking for your permission before I began dating him? What is it?" You question, throwing your hands in the air before slapping your hands against your side.

"Don't blame me for this. You're the one who had to go and act like a.. like a school girl bitch and put your relationship with him near me." She scolds. The tears you had been fighting back actually start falling at that, as you wipe them quickly. You shake your head, as you push past her and the flood of doctors.

──

Cold air be damned, you cross your arms over your chest as you lean against the brick wall outside. Ambulances soar past toward the ER exit, but you don't pay them any attention. It isn't until a familiar car pulls up in front of you that you actually look up.

"Hey, pretty girl. You okay?" Carmen's comforting voice asks, getting out of his car with his coat in hands, putting it over your shoulders. His heart breaks at the sight of your tears, nose red from probably the cold and crying, a frown matching yours.

You bury your face in his neck, only moving it to speak. "Claire saw you drop me off this morning and reported me to human resources. Then called me a school-girl bitch for 'putting our relationship near her'." You answer, your voice soft.

He nods slowly, trying to keep himself calm near you. "Why don't you go get in the car, huh? I'll go grab your stuff from inside." He asks, taking your hands in his. You smile. "Thanks, Carmy. Just behave yourself, please." You request, before climbing into the passenger seat of the car.

He watches to make sure you're safe in the car before he goes inside, fists clenched at his side. Behaving himself was something Carmen had never enjoyed doing, so why would he?

He spots Claire almost immediately, walking over. "Carmen-" She begins.

"Claire. What the fuck is your problem?" He cuts her off, staring at her. "Y/n has done nothing to you. If you're pissed about how we left things, that's fine. But you have zero right to harass my girlfriend over how I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead making his way up to the chief’s office. Knocking on the door and waiting for the faint "come in", Carmen steps into the office and clears his throat as his jacket hangs off one arm.

“Hi, sir. My name is Carmen Berzatto, I’m-”

“I know who you are, son.” Ed, the chief, says with a nod. “And I know why you’re here. And I’d like to only say this once, so I’d appreciate your listening. Y/n is a fantastic employee as I'm sure she's a fantastic partner. I hate to see that girl crying. So, allow this to be a warning.." Ed stands, circling the desk and sitting on the edge, arms crossed right in front of Carmen.

".. If you hurt her, and I find she comes into work again crying because of you, I will end you. Are we clear?" Ed asks, and Carmen immediately asks. "Yes, sir, thank you." He says.

Carmen made his way back to the car, finding you in the frontseat, staring at the radio. He sets your bag in the backseat, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Your radio is all weird." You mumble.

He laughs, placing a kiss on your head. "I'm sorry about Claire. I should have told you.. I promise I am gonna spend the rest of the day making it up to you." He says.

You smile at him. "As long as I've got you, I don't care, Carmy. It isn't your fault."

He grins. "Well, you've got me for as long as you'll have me."

──

It doesn't shock anyone when you're moved to a different unit a week later, this time one where your boyfriend didn't date the charge nurse that would harass you. At least if they did, Carmy would be there to comfort you.

Like he always is.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!

- mae

[peachdues]

And a fluff thought stemming from bundle of joy just some years after

All I'm cracking up at is this big scary wind hashira, terrifies the lower ranked slayers. Middle of training when they break for lunch, Y/N coming by with their now toddler daughter. Watch the slayers head spin when this lil girl is absolutely delighted to see her dad, running to hug his leg squealing

No, because this has sent me into a spiral.

Imagine Sanemi has the lower-ranked slayers nearly passing out from how brutal his training is, but they're also too scared to actually stop because they know it will just make their day a thousand times worse.

Sanemi is in the middle of laying into one of them because his form was wrongwrongwrong and how can he possibly expect to cut a demon's head off if he can't even hold a fucking sword, when they're interrupted by a shriek of laughter and joy from across the training grounds.

At first, the group of trainees see the Lunar Hashira crossing the dirt towards them, and they think, oh thank god, she's here to save us from Shinazugawa's wrath, she's going to help, thank god, thank god.

But instead she stops, and she's not looking at them, she's looking at the Wind Pillar and the Wind Pillar alone (like hello?? they're here too?? damn), and he stops the entire training session.

Suddenly, a small, white-haired, pink-cheeked miniature human peeks out from behind the Lunar Pillar's leg. She takes one look at the scarred menace who is low-key torturing this poor group of slayers, and she lets out the loudest little shriek of delight and begins toddling towards Shinazugawa as fast as her little chubby legs can carry her because she just learned to walk and now nothing can stop her.

And Shinazugawa smiles, and not in his signature sadistic manner that makes his trainees nearly wet themselves, but he has an actual genuine smile on that scarred face of his. Then, he does something even creepier -- he laughs.

He squats down and opens his arms as this little ball of pudge and snowy hair waddles to him, and he scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders while she claps her little hands together, laughing.

Sanemi then turns back to the group and for half a second, they think maybe Shinazugawa is in a good enough mood to dismiss them for the day because he can't possibly want his little angel to see him all scary and mean and angry, right?

Sanemi does decide he's done with training for the day -- but they're not. Instead, the Lunar Hashira -- his wife -- is stepping in to run them on defensive drills. Most of them haven't trained under the Lunar Hashira, so they breathe a sigh of relief, because surely, surely her training cannot be anywhere near as life-threatening as Shinazugawa's.

The Lunar Hashira looks so kind, so gentle, as she unsheathes her actual fucking weapon and begins using her breathing forms on them (because it's a mostly defensive-style of fighting, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have some very fast, very brutal offensive techniques saved for when she needs them). The slayers are forced to run, to contort their bodies into unimaginable shapes in a desperate attempt to dodge her crescent-shaped attacks. By the time the sun sets, several of them have thrown up, and a couple of them have passed out.

Meanwhile, Sanemi stands off to the sidelines, daughter still balanced on his shoulders, as she oohs and ahhs the display of lights and shapes unfolding before her. She squeals in delight every time her mama makes another pretty crescent moon and is so entranced by the dazzling show before her that she can't hear the screams of the slayers trying desperately avoid getting slashed to pieces.

And Sanemi has never been happier in his entire life.

Sanemi's proudest moment is when his daughter, who just hit speaking age, loudly says "fuck!" in her little, cute voice when she drops her piece of ohagi in the dirt outside their estate one afternoon. Too bad she also said it in front of her mother, and suddenly Sanemi's proudest moment also becomes the moment he learns what true fear is.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Tango in the Sky [W. W]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

[Timothée masterlist]

note: LISTEN, first of all I want to say a huge apology because I was literally stuck on this. I had like two weeks with the document started and I just didn't know how to do it, so I'm sorry if this is horrible. I think the problem was that I wanted to make everything the same as the movie and aaagh, I don't know. I know you wanted a kiss but I also had a hard time writing that because they barely know each other haha 😫

I will catch up more these days with everything on my inbox (which is quite a few, thank you for that beautiful people) and I appreciate the nice reception, I love you!

Special thanks to @fivesumbrella5 for leaving their name, it makes me happy to know who requests it :)

“Have you done this before?” you asked, gently petting the snout of the giraffe in front of you. Willy was downstairs, milking her so he could get the milk needed for her chocolates.

Noodle was supposed to have helped him that day, but the poor thing had caught a cold and you had been the lucky one (not really) to be driving the delivery cart. Although it had been a drastic change of plans, you had to adjust to it.

"Once. In Africa. Magnificent beast”

“Was she wild?”

“Wild? She was absolutely furious! But once my hands warmed up, I think she kind of liked it” Willy responded and then you giggled.

It was nice to have his company, that most eccentric guy who had come to rock everyone's world at the laundry.

“The way you left your coat makes it look like a person,” you pointed out, looking down at the coat rack on which he had left the red piece.

“Huh? It's true,” said the boy, smiling. Willy got up from his seat, humming a song, and then approached the structure taking a few steps and turns that ended in a mocking bow. “May I have this piece?”

You were watching his occurrence from above and when he started dancing you couldn't contain your laughter. He even started singing, showing you that he had a really beautiful voice.

"You like dancing?"

“I love it, actually,” he confessed. He had already put his coat and hat back on. “Especially when my partner is human.”

How curious, you were a human. And now that you had seen him dance, you were sure that you could become that dance partner he needed.

You started to go down the stairs, trying to ignore the vertigo that doing so gave you, and when you were two steps from the floor one of your feet slipped. You screamed as you fell, but you were lucky that he reacted quickly, managing to stop the impact by holding you by the back.

"My God…"

“It was close, right?” he laughed, still sounding agitated. “You have to be careful.”

You only managed to nod your head, slightly embarrassed, and then he helped you to step completely onto the floor. He was smiling, he always did, as if his cheeks were made to handle that.

“Do we have what we need?”

“We have it, my dear lady,” he replied, showing you the metal can that was filled with milk. At least something positive had come out of it all. “So it's time to go.”

“Thank you, Abigail!” You exclaimed towards the giraffe. She shook her head as if she really understood and the two of you got out of there.

It was cold outside and you felt strange seeing the zoo so desolate, although at the same time you were happy. Before the arrival of the chocolatier you could barely leave the laundry and now in a single day you had done wonderful things.

"No way…"

"What?"

“Have you ever flown?” He said with enthusiasm reflected in his bright eyes. You, as was logical, immediately denied, “Do you want to do it?”

"What?" you repeated, this time more acute and convinced it was a joke.

"It will be fun! Come on, trust me” he murmured and without giving you time to respond he took your hand to start running on the snowy road.

You were learning that you had to be careful with these occurrences and you had a feeling that this would not be the exception. You understood what his idea was the moment the bunch of balloons entered your field of vision and when you tried to react, he had already taken them with his free hand.

“It's not what… no, no, Willy…” you tried to stop him, but he wouldn't let you.

You ran out of pure inertia, knowing that if you slowed down you would probably trip and everything would turn out horribly. You were heading towards the lake and you closed your eyes as you imagined your destination, but it was nothing like you expected because the tips of your light feet barely touched the edge of the water. A second later you were already lifted into the air and then you clung to him with all the strength that existed in your body. You didn't even want to breathe for fear of falling and he noticed it.

"Open your eyes! You miss the show” the boy laughed, as if flying at night was the most normal thing in the world.

You ignored him and continued hugging him while the wind hit your face and ruffled your hair. You thanked God when your feet finally touched a firm surface, thinking it was the floor, but when you opened your eyes you noticed a glass floor illuminated from below: the panic returned when you realized that it was not a floor, but a ceiling.

“Willy, we're going to fall and die…” you half-screamed, launching yourself into his arms again. He was still holding his bunch of balloons and looked as cheerful as at the beginning.

“Nothing is going to happen to us. It's like walking on a tightrope."

“I have never walked a tightrope!” you replied fearfully. He let go of you and started to walk you away from him, slowly, and then he saw the terror in your eyes.

“If you've never walked a tightrope then it'll just be like dancing, okay?” he smiled, while he took your hand without getting rid of your means of transportation yet. “Do you know how to dance?”

Of course you knew how to do it, but this wasn't exactly what you were expecting when you wanted him to ask you.

“Look, just take one step forward,” he continued, pulling you towards him and moving in the opposite direction. “One back, one forward, two back…”

The boy hummed the instructions kindly and you tried to look him in the eyes just to avoid noticing how many meters high you were. After a couple of sequences you had begun to relax, but when he suddenly placed the balloons in your hand and let you go, you let out a little scream again.

Thanks to his help you did a couple of turns in the air and then he held you again, by his waist, until you were right in front of him.

“Don't let go of me” you asked in a whisper and Willy promised that he wouldn't.

Under that commitment you continued dancing to the rhythm that your friend set and little by little you were feeling more excited about what was happening. You had literally flown through the air and now you were on the damn roof of the gourmet galleries dancing with the most handsome chocolatier you knew; How likely was it at the beginning of the day? None, in short, so it was a pleasant surprise.

Willy guided you to the top of the dome that adorned the galleries, using the balloons to fly again, and suddenly you two stopped to hold onto the metal rod at the top of it. You were smiling from ear to ear and his hand had ended up on yours, while he also had a happy face.

“Didn't I tell you you'd be fun?”

“You are completely crazy, Mr. Wonka. I mean it in the best way” you sighed sincerely, managing to get a giggle out of him.

The man seemed to love heights, unlike you, and he wasn't about to let the moment between you last so short. So, careful not to let go, he began to bend over himself, taking you with him, until you were left sitting on the glass ceiling.

“Just breathe and take a second to appreciate the view,” he asked you, still holding your hand in an attempt to keep you calm.

If you looked down you could see the interior full of shoppers and if you looked forward you could see the entire city. However, the best view was to the side, right where Willy could be seen closely. Until that moment you noticed that the flamingos seemed to have followed you through the air and were now flying freely.

It was actually nice to be in that position once you had put your absolute terror of heights aside and as if you were suddenly aware of everything, the hand holding yours made you blush. Like this you were silent for a minute, with only the sound of the wind filling your ears.

“You know, Willy?” you started to say, not really looking at him. You were focused on the bright lights of one of the mansions “I haven't felt like this in a long time. It's nice to go out into the world."

Were you happy perhaps? If so, then he had achieved his goal. The truth was that one of the reasons he had done everything he had done was in the hope of making you smile and even with the difficulties that had arisen along the way, he had achieved it.

He was about to respond when the feeling of your lips placing a kiss on his cheek stopped his breathing and stirred his thoughts.

“I only worry about one thing though,” you exclaimed again. He looked at you carefully to listen to what you were going to say to him. “How are we going to get down from here?”

The boy laughed and the hand with which he was still holding the balloons waved in the air. You let out a whimper.

“Did you expect anything else?”

“An emergency staircase or something,” you joked. “But I guess it will be flying.”

If you had thought that going up into the air had been a nightmare, going down to the ground again turned out to be much worse.

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos @silverchainbee @amethyistheart @shadowygladiatorlight @lavendarhearts @lou-multifandoms

[watchmegetobsessed]

ONE YEAR

A/N: heeey look at that! im posting something new again!

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: On the day before Christmas you realize just how much has changed in one year.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Time has always been such a weird concept in your life. When you were a kid one year felt like a decade, week-long summer vacations felt endless and you could have sworn that you’d never grow up.

But then, of course, you did, like everyone else and time sneakily started to speed up. One day after the other, weeks turned into months and years and before you could realize, another birthday has passed, you got older even though the last one felt like it was yesterday.

One year can feel like a second, but it can also make such a difference and today, the day before Christmas you’re reminded of it. 

Waking up you’re not surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. The mornings when you could peacefully cuddle with Harry are now long gone, but knowing that he is somewhere out with your daughter makes up for all the missed moments together in bed. 

Stretching long you give yourself a couple more minutes to just rest and get your head ready for the day. The night wasn’t too rough, only had to wake up twice to feed Alma and she went back to sleep without a fuss this time. Maybe she can finally feel the Christmas spirit as well and her gift is to let you rest finally.

Sitting up in bed you turn towards the window and see that it’s still snowing, the street outside is clothed in the prettiest white blankets that’s almost entirely untouched since it’s so early in the morning. Your wish for Alma to have a first Christmas with snow is actually coming true.

Snatching one of Harry’s hoodies from the closet, you make your way out of the bedroom as you’re putting it on, noticing his voice coming from the living room the moment you reach the stairs.  Trying to be as quiet as possible you head down, hearing his cooing voice that’s for sure for Alma.

“See them? You like them? They are pretty, right?”

He has the most soothing voice as it is, but whenever he is talking to Alma it feels like it softens even more, as if that little girl melts the man in every possible way.

Well, that’s kind of the truth, Harry is smitten with his girl.

Harry is standing by the window that watches over the snowy street, the lights of the christmas tree reflecting in the glass because it’s still a bit dark outside. He is holding Alma in one arm, holding the curtains to the side with his free hand, gently swaying from side to side, a motion that always calms your baby, but only when her daddy does it. 

As you watch them in awe you think back to this exact day a year ago. It’s one to remember, because this was the day you found out you were pregnant and you shared the news with Harry. As much as you love your daughter, it’s no secret you weren’t planning her arrival so soon. Harry proposed just weeks before the pregnancy came into the picture and you both agreed to take some time just for the two of you, enjoy married life alone before expanding your family. Travel, explore, find yourself before becoming parents.

All those plans changed when the second line appeared on your test. 

Harry was surprised, maybe even shocked a bit. Not because he didn’t want kids, but because he was planning with another timeline that only included babies in 2-3 years. You talked for long hours that day and he told you he doesn’t feel ready, that he’s afraid he might not be the best father our baby deserves and he’s scared he might mess it up. You both cried and shared all your feelings and thoughts. 

It took time for him to settle with the idea of becoming a father earlier than he planned, but by the time the nursery was done, he was a changed man. Throughout your pregnancy he did everything he could to better himself and be ready for Alma’s arrival. He read every possible parenting book out there, always took care of you and looked for ways to be more present in this new chapter of your life together. 

Now it’s been four months since Alma was born and Harry is easily the best father you could ever wish for your baby and you’re so proud of him for everything he does for you and Alma as well. There’s no trace of that scared, doubtful man you sat on the couch with a year ago, the positive pregnancy test lying on the coffee table in front of you. 

Alma’s head turns, as if she had a sixth sense to notice when you’re around and she gives you a toothless grin as you make your way across the room. Harry turns and you see the same sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you that you saw the first time you met. He says he knew he would marry you one day the moment he laid his eyes on you. You believe him, because you felt the same way. 

“Good morning you two,” you smile, pressing a kiss to Alma’s forehead and one to Harry’s lips. 

“Morning Mommy, we didn’t wake you up, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. Alma visibly starts to wiggle towards you, Harry hands her over and she lays her head to your chest right away, her tiny hands grabbing onto the sweatshirt that smells like Harry. 

“Princess is kinda hungry, but I thought I could prolong breakfast a bit and distract her with the snow.” Harry smiles gently, running his knuckles down the side of Alma’s round face. 

“You like the snow, huh? We’ll see how much you like it when we’re outside in the cold,” you chuckle. 

You move over to the couch and Harry follows you, you sit beside each other, Harry’s arm instantly comes around you, pulling you against his chest as you settle Alma in your arms to feed her. This has been your usual for the morning feeding, but almost all feeding, because Harry loves being present in these moments. All those sleepless nights when she woke up every two hours and you had to sit in the nursery for most of the night to feed her, Harry was there every time. If you weren’t sleeping, he wasn’t either, even if all he could do was just be there, run his fingers through your hair and tell you how great of a mother you are, he never missed a chance to be present. 

As usual, Alma passes out in your arms once her tummy is full and you can’t help but just stare at her and think of how you can’t imagine your life without her now. 

Turning your head you find Harry gazing down at her as well with sparkling eyes and you wish to see him like this, so happy and content every day for the rest of your life.

“What?” he asks with a tiny, shy smirk, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Just… I was thinking about how much has happened in one year.”

Harry hums and you know he is thinking about the same thing from last year. 

“Yeah. It’s crazy. Can’t wait to see what the next one holds.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[mojogojocasahouse]

Just in Time Part II

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 6.5k series content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), angst, smut, unprotected p in v, oral m & f-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

Part I

You follow the sound out into the cool summer morning, Satoru leaning back against the railing with his head hung. He’s in shorts and an unzipped hoodie, his snowy locks still mussed from his pillow. He raises his eyes when he hears the door opening, blinking the agony from his eyes away before he smiles. Had you not been paying attention you’d have missed the switch. 

“Go sit in the bedroom and stay there,” Satoru instructs, turning you by the shoulder and gently shoving you toward his room, “Actually, lock yourself in the bathroom or something…Okay, or just stand there…”

Fear has frozen you in place, but when he pushes down on your head you drop to the floor in a heap, leaning back against the counter in the middle of the kitchen as a call of your name on the other side of the door signifies the worst has come to pass. You hear Satoru mutter ‘Good enough, I guess,’ before he snaps his jovial, mischievous persona back into place, his sing-song greeting to your father outside barely audible just as the hinges close behind him. It takes you too long to drag yourself across the sleek wooden floor and hover your ear against the same place you’d been pressed to in very different circumstances earlier that night. 

“I know she’s in there you insolent brat!” That’s your father’s voice, sounding as furious as you’ve ever heard him.

“Are you going senile in your old age?” Satoru’s wit never fails him, “We’re gonna have to strip you of that fancy position if you can’t keep your thoughts straight. I think I could be a principal, don’t you? Not that I really want to go to Kyoto but…”

The sound of blood spattering against a wall proves there’s a third out there with them, Satoru’s taunting laugh confirming he’d been the target of a blood manipulation technique. 

“Woah, woah, woah, hang on, Gramps. Call off your little attack dog, you know it’s pointless. Unless you forgot that too…”

“She’s getting married tomorrow and this nonsense that’s gone on for too long already is finished! Stop harboring her like there’s anything you can do, what’s done is done.”

“But it isn’t done, is it?” The change in his tone is almost jarring. It’s menacing now, low and rumbling even through the barrier you're still pressed against.

“You have nothing to offer–”

“Ha! Don’t I? Does that shriveled raisin rattling around inside your skull not remember? I AM the Gojo clan. It’s all me! And no offense to Kamo’s cute little squirt gun technique, but we all know who’s winning this fight, right?”

It’s all murmurs that follow, the wood too thick to allow any legible words no matter how hard you press your ear against it. You fight the urge to wrench open the door…

“You know, Gakuganji,” you can hear Satoru respond after 30 seconds of eternity, his tone once again light and carefree, “A smart man would have tried to bleed me dry as a 15-year-old kid when you caught me sneaking out of her room at that first Exchange Event.”

“It didn’t matter. What could you give me, Gojo?”

“Now? Not a damn thing! And let’s be honest, probably not back then either. You’ve always been a slimeball. Go home, old man. You lost. No seat for you at the round table.”

“There’s nothing you can do-“

“You have ten seconds to leave, I don’t think I need to warn you about what happens if you don’t.”

The door knocks you flat onto the floor when he reenters the house, his hands quickly coming to right you as he drops to his knees. You’re just trying to keep yourself from crying, the pale stretch of his bare chest at your eye level and it takes every ounce of your waning self-control not to break down into him. His hands are warm and the arm’s length distance feels like miles, and he’s the only thing you want. But he’s something you can’t have.

When he’s certain you’re steady he jumps back to his feet, grabs his phone, and walks to peek out the window to ensure your unexpected visitors are gone. A flash of headlights flickers against the wall and you sigh in relief, your body still frozen in place.

“Nanami!” Gojo greets, phone pressed to his ear, “Yeah…yeah…No, I don’t need a ride … That happened one time six years ago! … Shut uuuup…No…Wai-wai-wait! I need something! … It’s important! … Is that apartment in your building still available? … It’s not for me…It’s not for me! … I got baby Gakuganji out, she needs a place… Okay, what about that other place… Uh-huuuh… Yes… No, I’ll just cover the year… Yeah, upfront… Here tonight… No, my place in the city… I’m staying up… Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“You’re not paying for-” you begin to argue when you’re certain he’s hung up.

“I didn’t ask,” he quickly cuts you off, “Take the bedroom, I’ll stay out here. One of good ol’ Kento Nanami’s suit buddies is a building manager, says he might have a place. No promises the Kamo clan will let me into their little fortress to get your stuff, but I’m gonna call Yaga to see if he can swindle a deal.”

The typically childish, flippant Satoru was gone, and in his place was the intelligent, efficient man that so very few saw, including yourself. He was a strategizer, calculating and quick-witted not only with his sarcastic words, but solutions, too. In ten minutes he’d already freed you of your shackles and found you an alternative path; could you have just asked him for help years ago and gotten this same response?

“Get some sleep,” he urges again, lifting his phone back to his ear for his next call, “Nothing will happen tonight… Yaga, need a favor!”

His bed feels like quicksand as you settle beneath the silky sheets and plush blankets. Everything smells like him from the pillows and the shirt you wear to your skin that he scrubbed clean with a touch so gentle it had sent ripples down your spine. You can hear him still murmuring in the living room, the conversation growing heated and you want to run to tell him you’re not worth this trouble. Nine years as an intermittent visitor to his bed doesn’t qualify you for this, he should have just surrendered you to the men at the door. 

“They tracked her phone!” He’d said that loud enough you were able to hear it clearly. 

Has there been any one moment of your life where you had control? All this time you’d thought your moments with Satoru had been yours and yours alone, a secret kept between the two of you, but it wasn’t. Your father had known all along and let it continue, and you knew that it wasn’t for your benefit. The trip down memory lane leaves you sobbing into your hands, all the emotions of the night cresting over your weakening composure. You do all you can to keep quiet, choking and sputtering on the wails that want to break free, you can’t show weakness. Not now, not ever. 

Even in your best attempts at discretion, you’re still too loud to hear the door slowly open, so when a long, slender body curls behind you it comes as a complete surprise. Satoru’s arm wraps tightly around your middle, his face notching into the curve of your shoulder.

Tears of despair turn into those of relief, your fingers threading with his on your stomach before you clutch his hand to your aching chest like a child’s teddy bear. It’s big enough to be one. Your muscles ache from tension, your resolve beginning to crack, and when he nuzzles his thin, pointed nose against your skin you finally lose the battle. 

He holds you as you sob, the embarrassment, shame, and fear you felt running down your face. You can’t make out whatever he’s whispering in your ear but you swear it sounds like a pleading ‘stop’, and you can feel the way his arm pulls you even closer, your knuckles going white as you tighten your own grip. The burning in your throat is made worse with every gasping breath, and you can’t tell if it’s your body quivering or his until his palm swallows your jaw whole and pulls your chin up to face him.

The salt of your tears is bitter in a desperate kiss, his tongue coated with what had soaked your lips. There’s nothing gentle about his movements, they’re frantic and hard, the shock of his desperation enough to snap you back to reality. It’s him who’s trembling, his brow knit tightly for reasons you don’t and will likely never know. 

“Stay…” you choke, throat thick with sorrow and strife, the thought of him leaving you in his bed alone dropping heavily into your stomach like a stone, “Please.”

“Sure,” he agrees, pecking at your lips again at a drastically softer pace.

Despite your turmoil, you doze off quickly. His embrace is an oasis, the feathering kisses he leaves along your neck, shoulder, and in the hollow behind your ear blooming like flowers and spreading their vivid warmth until you slip beneath the weight of sleep. He greets you here as he often does, the life you’d built in your dreams welcoming you. 

It’s still dark when your eyes snap open, an arm pulling you tighter into a searing cocoon when your body jolts. Your long-held fantasy has burned to ash and crumbled into a nightmare, the image of white hair billowing in the breeze as tears ran from crystal blue eyes still painted behind your eyes. 

“Toru?” you whisper as your fingers graze along the soft, smooth skin locking you in place.

“Hmm?” he hums, his tired voice like a balm. 

“Are you here?” It’s delirium fogging your train of thoughts, words your mind has fabricated still echoing. 

“Where else would I be?”

“Please stay…” You’re not even responding to him at this point, exhaustion has taken hold once again and thrown you right back into the fire. “Toru…”

The sun is blinding when you wake again, the bed cold and empty. A toothbrush is sitting on the bathroom counter when you wander in, a fresh set of shorts and a shirt that will be far too large for you perched on a shelf. Who knew Satoru could be such a gracious host?

There’s no sign of the man in the question even when you make your way to the living area save a mug of half-drank coffee sitting on an end table near the sliding glass doors leading out to a balcony. When you turn towards the kitchen, you spot another mug set out by the coffee maker, one for you, and that sinking feeling in your chest that had woken you up in the early hours of the morning returns.

“Then do something!” a distant voice shouts, “Do something!”

You follow the sound out into the cool summer morning, Satoru leaning back against the railing with his head hung. He’s in shorts and an unzipped hoodie, his snowy locks still mussed from his pillow. He raises his eyes when he hears the door opening, blinking the agony from his eyes away before he smiles. Had you not been paying attention you’d have missed the switch. 

“Morning,” he greets in a jovial tone you know is a lie, “I left you a mug—“

“I know,” you cut him off, and here in the light of a new day, you realize something you’d known all along. 

You’re in love with him.

The pain of that admittance is freeing. He’s cast in a warm orange glow looking every bit as ethereal as he was, and you press your cheek to the patch of sun shining on his chest, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and stealing this moment with him knowing it very well may be the last. His arms lock around you faster than your hands can knot at the small of his back, there is no hesitation, not even enough time to consider a different course of action, and when he notches your head beneath his chin and sighs, your mind goes quiet. 

You’ll stay here as long as he allows it. Five minutes, an hour, it doesn’t matter. This feels good, it feels safe…

I love you, I love you, I love you… It’s like a mantra, and while you don’t dare speak it you hope the message gets to him somehow. Maybe in the tightness of your hold, the tension from your efforts, or the shallowness of your breath. The world is still quiet, giving you enough peace to soak this in. There’s no blaring of car horns or busy conversations floating into the sky to disrupt you, it’s just the steady thrum of his heart beating. You’re positive this is the first time anyone has just…held you like this.

When he pulls away you try to hide your disdain for the distance he creates, your eyes are still closed when he tips your face up towards him with the side of his pointer finger. 

He catches you mid-breath in a kiss harder than you expect after just waking up. You can feel his failed restraint, it’s been years since you’ve welcomed a new day together, lonely nights after long taxi rides home have been the norm. Two hands grip behind your knees and hoist you upwards, your arms slipping around his neck as his tongue drags along your lower lip, urging your mouth open and a whine to slip free. 

There are a thousand reasons to stop him, but none of them matter right now. He’s so warm and solid, his jaw slightly rough with stubble too pale to see. A smile spreads across his face when he finally catches himself in his frenzy, slowing his frantic pace to something much more gentle and languid. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” he purrs into your mouth, sliding his tongue over your own before you can respond, “I want crepes.”

The sun disappears from behind your eyelids, and you feel the cool surface of his kitchen counter as he sets you on top of it. With free hands, he explores the soft stretch of your legs, slipping between them as you continue to tug at his lips greedily. The clock hasn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but the ache settling into your core is beginning to burn. There was something so pathetically irresistible about seeing him so comfortable, so unguarded, it felt like you weren’t just a visitor to his bed. And that was a dangerous precipice to be standing on. 

“Are you always so needy in the morning?” he laughs against your throat, a whine slipping free from his tease, “This what I’ve been missing out on?”

When his tongue swipes over your searing skin, your fingers lock into his hair as he explores the throat you bare to him. It’s those open-mouthed, lingering tastes that he tortures you with that have your hips flicking in search of friction, so he gives you his thigh, pulling you down to perch on it and dragging you over the slim, firm muscle. You know you look desperate and unkempt, but he keeps you moving enough to have you spasming as you find release and go lax in his hold. 

“So…” he practically sings, a lilt of conceit in his tone, “Crepes?”

“It’s too early for crepes,” you pant, confused by his choice of a morning meal.

“Pfft, for you maybe! You want any or no?”

After dressing in a hoodie and sweatpants, Satoru leaves with a quick peck to your forehead, promising to be quick before the door clicks and locks behind him. Seconds later, a fluffy head of white hair pokes back in, his keys still rattling in the lock.

“Don’t use your phone,” he instructs, “Or open the door.”

You passed the time tidying the space up. There isn’t much that needs to be done, but you get into a steady rhythm that you’re all too familiar with, wiping down counters, picking up laundry, and you almost make the mistake of leaving the apartment to take out the trash before remembering his warning to not open the door. 

As you begin to wipe down the bathroom, the sharp scent of the cleaner burning at your nose, you realize the ease he’d infused into you this morning has all but dried up. You watch as your hand trembles around the rag, a terrified reflection coming into view as you circle the white foam off the glass, revealing the truth of what lies beneath the crumbling facade. 

“What are you doing?” a smooth voice asks from behind you, causing you to yelp and your heart to skip a beat, “Are you cleaning my bathroom?”

“Uh…” you stammer, still reeling from the shock, “Yeah.”

“Don’t… You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh. I’m sorry–”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry.”

With that he walks off, yelling over his shoulder that food was here and to hurry up before it got cold. You’d become so accustomed to being scolded for not being busy tidying something up that having him go and do the opposite had thrown you for a loop. When your own house had been too clean to keep you working, you’d been sent somewhere else to help, your existence nothing more than a housemaid for the Kamo clan. You’re own fault, you’d been told, with such a useless cursed technique what else would there be for you to do? 

“C’mon!” he calls, “I’m being nice and waiting!”

Where a pile of cream-filled crepes sat in front of Satoru, a much more normal option was beside his on the table, a paper bag sitting on the couch in front of it. He paid you no mind as you cautiously pulled the bag towards you, peering inside to find a dress and jacket that cost far too much money.

“Satoru–” you scolded, squashing the leap your heart did into your throat, “I can’t pay–”

“Didn’t ask you to,” he cut off again, “You can’t go out in that.”

Right. You’re going to see an apartment today. Suddenly, what little appetite you’d mustered was gone, but you slink down onto the couch anyway, trying to eat as much as you can with a boulder in your stomach. 

“What’s a’matter?” he asks with a full mouth, “I thought you liked that place.”

Adding a heaping pile of guilt to what you were already carrying threatened to shatter you, but you set a smile on your face and force the food down. His knee rests against yours, his long legs spread wide, his focus honed on his phone as he types away with one thumb. The furrow of his brow has you wondering if it’s just more trouble you’re causing him, technically now with clothes proper enough to be seen in public wearing, you could leave him free of whatever burden you’d inadvertently placed on his shoulders.

When his phone begins to vibrate with a call, he throws his overly sweetened crepe back onto its wrapping and wipes his hands on his shorts, greeting whoever it is with a cheekful of whipped cream and dough.

“If you’re calling me with more shit news…oh really!? So kind of him…I’d love to hear how that conversation went…Tell me…It is important…It is…Because I said it is…God damnit, Yaga!...”

The next bit of the conversation even you could hear thanks to tempers flaring and voices rising: “He said she’s your problem now.”

You can’t leave the apartment fast enough, even in nothing but Satoru’s baggy clothes. He yells at you to wait as you run to the door, circling down the stairs as fast as you can with tears dripping down your face. When you make it out onto the sidewalk, a solid chest and two long arms pull you in immediately, and you don’t need to see the person’s face to know exactly who it is. It’s easy to forget what he’s truly capable of. He probably leapt right off the balcony.

“I’m too tired for this,” he sighs, the agitation he was masking slipping through, “Go inside. Please.”

“No,” you argue, trying to shove him away, his hands easily catching yours and trapping them in cuffs of long, dexterous fingers.

“I just want to sleep for two fucking hours! Please, go inside!”

“You’re free to go–”

“Oh my God! Shut up already!”

It’s embarrassing how easily he hoists you over his shoulder like a tantruming child and carries you inside, sitting you on the couch and flopping down beside you, his head falling into your lap like it was a pillow. 

“You piss me off,” he mumbles, curling an arm around you as his eyes drift closed, “I never do anything I don’t wanna do. Thought you knew that by now.”

A lingering drop falls from your cheek into his still tangled hair, your fingers instinctively moving to swipe it away but instead digging deeper, scraping against his scalp soothingly. He rumbles in appreciation, already drifting off, and so you continue. The steady, slow breaths exhaled through parted lips assure you he’s getting the sleep he desperately needs. You know he’d stayed awake all night anticipating another uninvited guest to his door, and who knows if he’d even managed the night before. He claimed he never slept on missions, unable to relax enough to find even a semblance of peace away from home.

Three hours later, he hasn’t moved. A small braid sits across his temple, keeping some of the strands that had been falling into his eyes neatly twisted away. You’ve barely been able to keep your eyes off of him, your wandering touch having moved from his hair to trace the sharp features of his face ever-so-gently to not wake him. 

“I love you,” you whisper to ears that can’t hear you, hoping it alleviates the weight bearing down on your chest. It doesn’t. 

You can’t see him again. At this point, being with him only has the potential to throw you deeper into this void you’re hurtling down. After seeing this apartment, you’ll find a hotel and take the weight of your problems off his shoulders. You know he has more than enough of his own to handle, sometimes you can’t help but think it’s a miracle he’s still standing. 

The thought makes your chest tighten, and it’s simply more evidence this cord needs to be cut. He’s got his little black book and you’re simply just another number. You’re not even fun anymore, the baggage you carry is too much to bear to still be considered a good time. Whatever responsibility he feels for you is displaced, just because it all blew up right outside his front door doesn’t make this—you—his problem. 

“Hmmm,” he hums twenty minutes later, his face nuzzling down into your legs as his arms around you tighten, “What time is it?”

“Two-ish…” you reply, trying to keep your voice level, but when his fingers pull up the hem of his shirt you’re wearing and his lips press softly against your stomach there’s no helping the sharp gasp that betrays you. 

Within seconds he’s twisted you onto your back against the armrest, greedy hands tugging your borrowed shorts still loosely hanging off your hips down and off. White hair fills your fists as your spine arches off the couch, Satoru’s lips locking around your clit and suckling hard. All thoughts of never seeing him again are quickly thrown out the window. His palms hold your thighs spread wide as his silver tongue finally tastes what you’d denied him last night. He’s the only man who ever has, and he’s the only one you ever want to.

His thin, sharp nose drags over your clit as he laps at your entrance, your legs begging to clamp down around his ears as searing heat boils in your belly. It’s pathetic how you’re already trembling, but it only spurs him on, your eager response to his affections is always his greatest motivation. Despite his tongue being buried deep, it isn’t enough. You still feel so empty and your body instinctively asks–begs–for more by rolling your hips over his face, searching for anything to satiate the hunger. There is no surrender in his appetite, however. In a battle of wills, he always comes out on top, and today is no exception.

“You taste so good,” he hums against your soaked core, half-drunk on nothing but you.

“Please,” you whine, keening when he teases your back entrance with a taunting flick. 

“M’gonna take care of you.”

Something foreign and tranquil washes over you in a steady wave, and Satoru immediately pauses when you go slack beneath him and sink into the plush material of the couch. As he presses his lips in a reverent trail from your hip to your throat, pushing the baggy shirt you’re wearing up to clear his path, you relax even further.

You trust him. You love him. 

Your fingers are still locked in his hair when you hear his quiet request beneath your ear: “Can I?”

It’s such a stupid, juvenile thing, but it’s something you’ve been denied in all the years of this… situation, so you nod, taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. Your pulse is thrumming with anticipation beneath his mouth, and the moment he clamps down hard enough to sting, he thrusts into your wet heat as blood pools beneath the fragile skin his tongue soothes over. 

He does it again, decorating the dip of your collarbone as the spongy head of his dick kisses your cervix, and you’re limp, taking anything and everything he’s willing to give. Let him decorate you, claim you, fuck you until you’re incoherent, it doesn’t matter. Just as long as it’s him and he doesn’t stop.  

“So wet…” he praises, groaning when his words cause you to tighten around him.

Always for you, you think as his tongue dives between your parted lips, the taste of yourself still lingering. The gentle way he cradles your jaw is the complete opposite of the speed of his hips battering into you. He’s chasing something he can’t quite reach, whether that be a sensation or an emotion you can’t tell, but he’s looking, willing himself to find this answer even if it kills him. Every stolen kiss seems to connect his wayward thoughts, but when he starts to whimper into your mouth and his pace begins to falter, you know the friction of his cock dragging along your walls has consumed him.

“I can’t–” he stammers when you lock your ankles on his lower back, tightening around him further, “Fuck, baby, that’s n-not helping.”

“Give it to me, Toru.” One last time. “Pl-please, I want it.”

There’s barely time to take a breath before you’re on your stomach, ass being pulled straight up into the air, his shaft filling your gaping hole so deep you can feel the pressure in your chest. Long, slender fingers find your swollen clit and being moving in steady, quick circles, and at this point all you can do is scream and cry out until he’s shooting hot, thick ropes of cum into your spasming cunt, your own orgasm ripping through you, leaving you boneless and drooling.

“Shit…” he pants, his phone vibrating on the table in what has to be a third attempt at a call in the last two minutes, “Gimme a second.”

The bedroom door closes as you slump down into a heap, the mess between your thighs getting sticky and uncomfortable as you adjust to the emptiness returning. It’s tempting to sneak out now, if it wasn’t for your current debauched state. You’re still so surrounded by him, the couch smells like his stupid cologne, your thighs are quivering, and you can still feel the tips of his fingers digging into your hips. Maybe you’ll never be free.

“Okay, princess,” he coos, lifting you off the couch bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom, “Quick shower then we gotta go.”

By four o'clock, you’re heading out the door, donned in a new dress accompanied by Satoru in sleek black pants and a silky black button-down, bag in hand. It’s an overnight bag, you can tell from the size and also because you caught him packing it in a rush. He hadn’t seen you, well, at least as far as you could tell, and as much as you wanted to believe he was heading out on a mission, you couldn’t convince yourself of it. The phone call he had to talk out of earshot, the fancy clothes he wore just to go tour some shitty apartment, the bag…you’re well aware of what it all means. You don’t even let the fact he’s opening your car door for you distract you from the knowledge he’ll be doing the exact same gesture to another tonight.

“Okay,” he sings out as he slides into the driver’s seat, “Ready to go?”

All you do is nod, keeping your eyes focused out your window. 

“Why’re you so quiet?” he complains–whines–five minutes into the drive, “It’s boring.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest, “Where is this apartment?”

“What apartment?”

“The one we’re going to see?”

“Oh…riiiight. That apartment. You don’t really want to go look at that, do you?”

He can sense your anger bubbling in the cramped space, but he laughs when he looks over to find you staring daggers at him, nostrils flared.

Relax!” he chuckles, “So worked up over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Satoru!” you yell back, groaning when your body betrays you for a moment and relaxes when his hand falls to your inner thigh, his thumb rubbing softly up and down over your exposed skin, “My life is a wreck!”

“When hasn’t it been?”

“You arranged that apartment. And now we’re not going?” You have to change the subject before you combust.

“Well, you said I couldn’t pay for it, and you can’t pay for it. Not yet anyway–”

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder. So, what now then!?”

“Dinner!”

The car comes to a screeching halt outside of a ramen place, and you burst into tears.

“Hey…” He’s frantic, leaning over the center console to take your face in his hand, “Hey…no-no-no. Don’t do that.”

“What am I supposed to do?!” you scream at him, your cheeks already soaked and eyes swollen, “Just go in there and eat ramen like nothing is wrong!?”

“I mean…yeah. Why not?”

“Fuck you!” 

It’s a battle when you try to get out of the car, his left hand continuously locking the doors as his right attempts to stop you from pulling at the handle at all. He’s grunting ‘stop’ and ‘listen’ and ‘calm down’ but his words fall on deaf ears. 

“Why won’t you just let me go?!” you finally sob, both of you panting and flustered.

“Because…” he replies quietly, threading his fingers with yours, however unresponsive they are, “Will you stay in the damn car?”

You don’t answer, but you don’t move to leave either, and he takes that as confirmation. With a heavy sigh (and an empty stomach) he takes off down the road until you’re outside the city, finally pulling into a large gated property. Flowers surround you on all sides, and the sound of a fountain in a pond pairs serendipitously with the birds singing the sun away as it begins to dip closer to the horizon. The house nestled amongst the gardens is massive, winding paths of stone leading through the rainbows of blooms, and you can’t help but be entirely awestruck for a moment before confusion settles. Satoru opens the door with his keys, pulling you inside the manor that’s every bit as impressive on the inside as it is outside.

“Where are we?” you ask harshly, pulling your hand free of his.

“The Gojo Estate,” he answers so casually you want to throw a shoe at the back of his head.

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m showing you around. It beats Kento’s buddy’s apartment, dontcha think?”

Not even the coldest winds could have frozen you in place so quickly. He’s brought the overnight bag from the back of the car in with him, tossing it onto the kitchen counter before opening the fridge and grinning when he finds a bottle of strawberry soda waiting for him on the shelf. 

“There’s more to the place than the foyer!” He’s moved out of sight now, but not far judging by how close he still sounds, “C’mere! Don’t be shy now.”

He’s waiting on a porch overlooking the pond you’d heard earlier, koi fish gently swimming in the clear water without a care in the world. If you’d thought the city suited him before, it was nothing compared to the sight of him framed by lush greenery and the unhindered glow of sunset. He looks every bit the part of clan head here, oozing authority and confidence as he leans with his back against the railing, smirking as you cautiously approach.

“What are we doing here?” you ask again, meek and quiet, all signs of anger gone.

“Giving you options,” he answers, gloating almost, but trepidation is still laced with what you recognize as false conviction.

“I can’t live here.”

“Why not?”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. I mean, you wouldn’t be living alone. No one should live alone here, that’s why I don’t. What if I slip in the shower and no one finds me for days? Ha! Could you imagine…”

“Satoru!”

Does he know what he’s asking? Does he know what it means? If it means nothing to him, fine, but you? The idea of it has you tensing and pushing back tears, your bottom lip trembling as you allow the fantasy of a home and a life to slip through the cracks forming in your barriers you keep it behind. His fingers are chilled from the glass bottle he’s been holding, the sharp contrast against your burning cheeks causing you to gasp and you’re met by infinite blue eyes staring down at you. 

“Look,” he begins, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect pink pout, “I…” He sighs, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts, “Why didn’t you ask me to get you out of there sooner?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks. You’d been asking yourself the same thing since it all blew up last night. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” you answer truthfully, “If it’s not me, you have someone else–” “There is no one else. There never has been.”

“What?”

“There is no one else.”

No one else? His lips press softly against yours as you stand in stunned silence. All these years thinking you were second to twenty, and there had never been another? 

“Say it again,” he breathes into your slackened jaw, and your brow furrows in confusion.

“What…” you blubber, meeting the galaxies living in his gaze once again.

“Tell me again.”

A tight grip on your wrist tugs your hand up to what remains of the braid still twisted in his hair from his nap earlier, you hadn’t realized it had survived both the shower and what transpired before it, but it had clearly held on tight. Too many thoughts buzz around in your head for you to comprehend what the hell he's asking for until he requests it one more time, his voice cracking like his life hinges on knowing if what he’d heard was real or a figment of his overactive imagination.

And then it clicks. Your heart comes to a skidding halt as fear runs cold through your veins, and you try to run but his arm curls around your waist, holding you in place.

“I…” your tongue is paralyzed, a phrase you’ve never uttered to another person knotting and twisting, “You were asleep.” It’s such a cop-out, and the way his face falls shatters your heart.

“Right, thought so,” he concedes, “Okay. Well, do you want to see–”

“I love you.”

The words spill out so suddenly you’re clasping your hands over your traitorous lips, the urge to flee burning in your legs, and he smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he leans in, pulling your wrist to free your shock-slackened lips from their cage, and kisses you. 

This kiss is different. It’s softer, lingering, it’s the kind of kiss that welcomes you home after a long day and melts the toils and tribulations you faced away. While your hands shoot to the kitchen counter behind you and your knuckles go white in an iron-like grip, the tips of his fingers brush down your cheek so gingerly a shudder shoots down your spine. You’ve never been touched so softly, with so much…you can’t think it. 

“Again,” he whispers, and you reply with those little three words in just as hushed a tone, “Again.”

With every repetition, the words fall with more grace and his smile grows. Your cheeks are burning, nerves fluttering to life in your belly, but when he asks for the fifth time to hear you say that phrase, you close the distance between your bodies, grab his jaw in both hands and finally with conviction you tell him the truth: “Satoru. I love you. I don’t kn—mmph!”

As quick as it is, the force of his lips crashing into yours is bruising. There’s nothing tactful about it, he just needs contact and he needs it now. 

“Love you,” he murmurs, and you understand immediately the incessant nagging to hear those words over and over. 

You know someone, at some point, had said that to you, but time has robbed you of the memory. This is the first time you can ever recall hearing it, and something breaks down inside of you faster than you can keep up with. His chest is there to collapse into as the tides roll in, tears pouring from your eyes as relief washes over your storm-stricken shores. The space carved out in his embrace fits you like a glove, your head tucked neatly below his cheek as he leans down to swaddle you in tight. You’re shaking and sobbing but this time he doesn’t ask you to stop, because he understands. It’s the same for him.

“Can we go to dinner now?” you sniffle, wiping your nose on the back of your hand, gazing up at him with glassy eyes.

“Nah,” he brushes off, “I’ll order something. There’s a shirt for you in the bag, take your pick.”

Donned in a t-shirt that hangs down to the middle of your thighs, you’re perched on the couch beside Satoru with a spread of food on the table before you once again. He puts on some movie but you aren’t paying attention, all you can concentrate on is trying to convince yourself it’s over. It’s done. You’re home. But too many years have passed, and it’ll take time.

“What, Yaga?” Satoru barks into his phone, “I’m not going…I’m not going…Find someone else.”

“What was that?” you ask as he tosses it away, looking over at you with eyes glowing in the dim light.

“Oh, a mission abroad. It usually goes to me but…”

There are more important things now. 

“They can figure it out,” he chuckles with that signature aloof, pompous lilt, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. 

Maybe it won’t take as long to get used to this as you think.

Sorry this took so long!!!

{{Masterlist}}

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 13: PUBLIC SEX Donquixote Rosinante 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: anon ➡ Hello, Sashi! hear me out: day 13. public/semi public and Rosinante 🤭🤭🤭 (his Devil fruit is literally perfect for it!;) can you please do it for female reader? ty, xo :3 tw: mdni. public sex. usage of df. rough sex and still very sweet. overstimulation. oral. size kink. squirting. impregnation implied. Au where Rosi survived after doffy's bullets. wc: 1,9k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

With a very curious and intelligent boy in the house, Rosinante and you had little time to none for adult loving matters. You were happy, you weren’t worried. But, sometimes you two needed those alone times…

You weren’t leaving little Law alone, of course. Much less having that type of fun with the kid at home even if asleep. However, that night Law had a birthday party at Mr. Wolff’s home. It was Bepo, his best friend’s birthday, who have been living there with his two other friend, Shachi, and Penguin.

Little Law still felt a little scared of human beings that weren’t his friends, so, of course, Rosinante and you walked him all through Swallow Island to get to the party.

Mr Wolff explained to you that he could stay the night if he felt like it, but if not, he promised to give the kids dinner early so that you could pick up Law from his home before midnight.

You were happy and took a leave through the snowy roads that connected your home and Mr. Wolff’s. It was a blessing to find this man who took care of Law while Rosinante recuperated after his encounter with his evil brother Doflamingo.

It was you, who helped your now lover to stay alive for some time until he was able to speak and search Law in the surroundings. After that, and falling in love with Rosinante, the three of you formed a very lovely and humble family. Of course, his real name couldn’t be revealed, as well as Law’s. Both, for the Marine and the Donquixote family had stopped existing that same fatidic night. Thankfully for the three of you, destiny had other plans…

The crunch beneath your feet of icy cold snow reverberates in a lonely path. There weren’t many roads connecting Pleasure Town to the forest where Mr. Wolff lives, nor the outsides where you live. You need to walk at least a couple of miles more to reach your cabin, a very cozy home you two have built.

“It isn’t that cold tonight, right?” you mumble, small talk you didn’t really need as Rosi and you have no problems to stay silent for some time as long as you are next to the other.

“Actually, you are right. Perfect for a dip in the sea” Rosinante jokes, he is always very funny being -sometimes to the point of annoy Law-.

You scoff and hug his huge arm. He smiles, with a smile that’s as beautiful as a sunrise, and places his equally huge hand on your head.

“I love you; you know that?” he whispers, stopping for some seconds, fixing his beautiful tangerine eyes in yours.

You smile sweetly, standing on tippy toes to reach for his lips. You try to give him a peck, but he is messing with you by not bending forward enough for you to do so. Rosinante is way taller than you. - And probably than most of the men around –

“Come on!” you protest, giving little jumps. “What?! You wanna kiss me? What you want from me, woman?!” he laughs. Rosinante is usually very soft and sweet, a caring father and sometimes a little bit of a clown, but he is also a man… a very manly man in private.

You turn around, crossing your arms like a little girl throwing a tantrum. You fix your eyes in the horizon, where the sun is starting to set, and the sky turns orange with litmus and purple hints here and there over the clouds. Even if annoyed at him, not even the scenery can match to the beauty of his soul.

“Baby…” he whispers, bending enough to hug you from behind. “I was just joking… give me a kiss, come on”

“No. You didn’t want it when I gave it to you; now you lost it!” you joke, enjoying the way you are pressing your back against his body.

He stays silent for some seconds until he turns you around rather violently -probably not his intention, but he is still a clumsy man-. Rosinante’s arms lift you up, as he tries not to slip with the snow.

“Give me a kiss. As a Celestial Dragon I demand my tribute!” it is still a little painful for him, but he has learned to accept his past and because of you even joke about it.

“Ah- tribute?! You are crazy, sir. I won’t giv-“ you grunt, but your lips get sealed with his. And your stiffen muscles start to relax as you melt into a very deep kiss of lust and love.

You two probably keep kissing until your lips get swollen and your breathing becomes erratic. There is too much sexual desire accumulated in your bodies that haven’t been released, you are not exactly sure if you are making it to the cabin.

“I was going to wait until we get home… I’ve been thinking about it all week, having the house free for us…” Rosinante murmurs with his lips grazing yours.

“I can’t wait until we get home…” you whisper, hugging him with your legs, allowing your crotch to hit his. He is hard, as much as you are wet. He is needy, as much as you are desperate…

Both look at each other. It’s gonna be a first… having sex in the middle of the road? With snow? Sure, it isn’t a very transited zone, but… what if someone sees you?

“I don’t care. Fuck me here, behind that tree” you point to a bunch of pines behind you.

Corazon, whose pupils contract, and his smile turns to a sexy smirk, doesn’t really say a word but immediately let’s you down for you to walk right behind the tree you chose to be a “covered spot”.

Truth is, it isn’t really a cover for such a big man like Rosinante, but it doesn’t really matter anymore to you.  

Your back hits the log, and his right hand do the same right next to your face. Some old snow falls around you from the branches of the tree, but there is no strong enough cold to overcome the heat of your bodies.

Rosi bends over to kiss you, playing with your breasts as he does. You moan, as his usual clumsy hands -but not during sex- reach for your nipples right in between your winter clothes. He pinches and twists, because he knows how much you love it.

Your hand reaches for his bulging crotch, playing over the white fabric of his jeans. You can feel it in your hands the way it throbs and painfully wishes to scape his pants. Thing, you understand very well, so you proceed to lower the zipper.

Soon you stop the kiss to kneel and free his sex. He is still wearing his clothes, but it’s enough for you to orally pleasure him. Both of your hands aren’t quite enough to cover his whole length, and that’s something you have learnt to take very well.

The tip of your tongue lands on the tip of his dick, making him squirm as you create strings of precum in between you two. Your oral skills are good but definitely better if accompanied by the pumping motions of your hands.

“Fuck…” he grunts.

“Honey, watch your mouth… someone might hear you” you joke, remembering indeed you are right because you are pretty much in public. But not giving a single fuck, as you eat his sex, gagging the more you bob your head.

When Rosinante is able to catch a little bit of air and clear his mind, he softly pulls back from your hair. Shiny lips and a little bit of teary eyes of yours look at him expecting to keep going or getting fucked.

“Stand up so I can scold you for the same reason” he growls. Rosinante’s sexy side is a pleasure not many people had the joy to experience.

You immediately accompany his hair pulling motion to stand up and soon enough he turns you around, pressing your body against the pine log in front of you. Skilfully he pulls down your leggings, just enough to expose your heat for him to penetrate.

“I missed your warmth so much” he purrs in your ear while he crunches enough for his sex to be guided into yours. You, on tippy toes to help with the height different, await his fulfilling length -and width- to stretch you out, so lasciviously.

And just as he slides himself inside of you, with milking spasming walls, and the usual resistance of such a size difference, you whine louder than ever. Thing that might have alerted someone in a cabin a few meters away you hadn’t seen until now.

Dogs barking and a light turning on is what you see in between the rams of a completely unaware -lost in lust- Rosinante.

“Hon-ey… th- there are… nghhh.. there are people there!” you alert him, with great difficulty and moaned speech. You bite your lip, watching in between blurred vision if someone is coming or not.

“I won’t stop fucking you, they won’t find us as long as you don’t make any sound” Rosinante murmurs, almost enjoying the karma for your last commentary.

“But- ngh… fuck, you are stretching me a lot more than al-ways” you whine, sure that given you more of his hip stabs you will burst out.

He scoffs. “Fine… SILENT-“ Rosinante casts his silence spell on you, allowing you to moan without a word to be heard. Thing that, gives him the power of fucking his victim even rougher and without hearing his pleading “stops” -even if you never want him to stop-

You can’t be heard, but you can hear. So, he grabs your face in between his fingers, while has you hugged by your waist. “Look at that old couple, they are looking for the animal that just mewled, but it was just you taking my dick. You wanna show them your face while I do?”

You widen your eyes… apparently the sexual abstinence can do this to a sweet man like him.  You shake your head, because you don’t really desire for two strangers to see you getting fucked in the middle of the public street… or you do?

Rosinante keeps fucking you, moving your body as he wishes, ignoring your “wait I am coming… I can’t-“ pleads coming from your silent voice. You are like a little doll compared to him, and the bulge forming on your lower belly should be considered like a dynamic work of anatomical and sexual art.

You are overstimulated, feeling like your insides are about to explode and the pressure of a very wet orgasm is about to dampen your and his clothes.

You are not very sure where the couple went, you have lost them… and you don’t mind.

Rosinante on the verge of coming too and couldn’t care a less if you want his seed deep inside you… he can’t hear you say no, in any case. You weren’t saying no, either.

“Take my cum, I think we should be ready to give Law a brother or a sister” he moans in your ear, getting even rougher with you as you are almost convulsing around his dick with a silent climax, legs and leggings soaked and nails carving marks on the log in front of you.

He grunts right in your ear, giving you, perhaps, an actual acoustical orgasm. Soon the chill you might have felt because of your juices getting cold are replaced by the flooding warmth of his cum that will have to stay inside of you for as long as you two need to run away…

“WHAT ARE YOU TWO YOUNGSTERS DOING?! SINNERS!” an old man -the same from the closer cabin- appears with a rusty shotgun.

“SORRY SIR!!!” both run away -you silently, though- laughing…

Oh, young love, risky and passionate is there a better type?

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀️

[sentientgolfball]

if you’re still doing the cute lil sentence starters can we do: “Let’s share my coat, since you’re so cold.”

for my beloved swiss alps (swiss/mountain)

WOE SWISSALPS BE UPON YOU

I need to write more of these two OUGH

The snow had stopped some time late, when not a single soul of the Ministry was awake save for the odd rodent. It left the land covered in a thick white blanket as far as the eye could see. The windows were frosted over, concealing the early winter morning from those who began to rise. The air in the abbey was frigid as Sibling and ghoul began their daily chores. The fire ghouls worked hard to shelter the ancient building from the bite of the cold. 

Deep in the ghoul den Swiss is wide awake. He normally stays in bed even after the first rays of the sun call to the little bit of fire in, but today he didn’t get woken from its light. Instead he was jostled from sleep when Mountain left the bed, mumbling something about duties when he pressed a kiss to Swiss’ forehead. He wasn’t fully conscious then, but now that he is he can’t close his eyes. 

He couldn’t even if he wanted to. If he had been more awake when Mountain left he would’ve stopped him. Winter leaves him drained, the frozen earth making it hard to hear his element. Yet Mountain continues to push himself. Swiss thought that by turning up his heat and curling close to his side he’d get Mountain to rest, but the snowstorm ruined his plans. Mountain would not rest until he was certain everything was handled. 

All Swiss can do now is go out there and bring him back. If Mountain won’t listen to his body then he’ll have to listen to Swiss. If he keeps pushing himself he’ll get sick, or worse. He doesn’t know what happens to an earth ghoul who refuses their hibernation and he doesn’t want to find out. He tries not to think about it as he fills a thermos with one of Mountain’s favorite blends of tea. Swiss gets himself bundled up before stepping out into the snowy world the Ministry has become. 

He tries the greenhouse first, assuming Mountain might be tending to some of the more versatile vegetation or pumping the place full of earth magick to keep things alive. He comes up short though, no Mountain in sight. No one in sight actually, not even a Sibling or another earth ghoul. He hums in disappointment before stepping back outside. 

“Alright big guy, where are you hiding?” He muses to himself as he scans the treeline. 

His eyes catch on prints in the snow. When he moves to investigate, he finds that they’d rather large hoof prints. They lead straight into the forest. 

“Bingo.” He smiles and begins to follow the trail. 

They lead him deep into the woods, thinning out every so often as the level of snow changes. He hopes maybe Mountain came out here to nest with Ivy in its den, maybe some weird earth ghoul bullshit calling out to him. He knows he’s wrong, but he can still hope. His only other hope is that Mountain isn’t passed out somewhere out here. Swiss may be strong but he’s not that strong. There’s no way he’d be able to get Mountain back to the Ministry. 

Thankfully it’s not long before he hears the rhythmic sound of someone chopping wood. He picks up his pace just a bit until Mountain finally comes into view. Despite the freezing temperatures, Mountain is sweating. His cheeks are flushed and every breath he takes results in large puffs of steam. He splits another log as Swiss calls out to him. 

“Glad to see you’re not dead!” He shouts as he walks over. 

“Why…would I be dead?” Mountain pants, tossing the two halves of wood onto a sizable pile. 

“Because, my love, you’re an idiot.” 

Before Mountain can even reply Swiss steps in front of him, extending the thermos out to him. Mountain hesitates before sighing and taking it from him. Swiss hums in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around Mountain’s shoulders and moving him to sit on a log. He must really be tired because he doesn’t protest, allowing himself to be guided. 

“Made it just for you. With that one rose blend you like.” Swiss crouches in front of Mountain, resting his hands on his thighs. His eyes shift from their normal black and white to orange and yellow as his fire comes to the surface. Mountain sighs appreciatively as the warmth bleeds through the layers of clothing. 

He uncaps the thermos, humming when the scent of the tea hits. He takes a long drink, practically chugging it. Swiss stares at him. Mountain would never drink so quickly, always going on about savoring the taste. When he finally pulls the container away, Swiss gets a good look at him. Past the flushed cheeks he looks pale. His eyes look sunken, dark lines carved under them. He’s exhausted. 

Swiss reaches out to take the thermos from him when Mountain extends it to him. He hisses when their hands brush against each other, “Momo your hands are ice. You need to take a break.” 

“Can’t. The fire ghouls need more wood for the abbey,” he mutters. 

“The fire ghouls aren’t gonna get any wood if you turn into a popsicle.” Swiss stands from his crouched position. 

He shoves his hands into his pockets before wrapping Mountain up in his arms, heat still radiating off of him. He feels him slump into it, muscles relaxing as he nuzzles his face against Swiss’ chest. He’s anxious to get Mountain back inside, maybe go to the bathing pools and lock the door. Let him soak in the hot water until he’s on the verge of sleep. Get him a hot meal and right back into their nest so he can rest. Even so, Swiss doesn’t rush him. He holds him like this until Mountain relents on his own. 

“I’ll let Ifrit know…” Mountain’s words are muffled where his face is still pressed against Swiss. 

He smiles and kisses the top of his head. He’s not going to say it outloud, but Swiss knows what he means. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to drag him back. 

“Let’s get going. I’ll make you that mushroom soup you like.” Swiss begins to pull away but Mountain tightens his grip. Swiss makes a questioning trill in the back of his throat. 

“Warm.” Is the only explanation Mountain supplies. 

Swiss just chuckles and presses another kiss to the top of his head, “Come on you overgrown caribou, I’ll let you wear my coat since you’re so cold.” 

Swiss shrugs off his canvas coat and drapes it over Mountain’s shoulders. He laces his hands with his, pulling him to his feet. They walk back to the abbey in comfortable silence. Swiss keeps his fire going the whole way, making sure his heart never freezes. 

[failing-to-write-again]

What would it be like waking up with Shu, Reiji, or Ruki?

So sorry I didn't see this Tumblr did not send me a notification!

But thank you for the ask and I will answer all three!!!

Under the cut because my writing is long and I might be mildly suggestive but nothing explicit!

Shu

I imagine waking with Shu would feel like a Saturday morning in Winter, where the heating is on and your bed is so warm and outside it's a cool snowy light.

Rolling over and feeling the slight chill of the vampire, his chest cool but the arm you slept on warmed by your body heat.

I think Shu, as a more subtle romantic, would enjoy like sleeping naked or at least shirtless with you. While throwing perverted comments around to deflect from showing his true sappy side, yet never actually going further then running his fingers along your spine as he holds you against himself slowly heating up.

Hearing him deeply inhale and stir as he feels your movement, eyes opening slightly and smiling before nuzzling between the pillows and your hair. A grumble of protest at having been disturbed.

If it is a weekend or holiday you give in easily resettling into the peaceful feeling of simple having skin contact with someone so intimately. Shu lifting the covers to cover you more as goosebumps cover your body slightly due to his lower body temperature.

A personal head cannon is that after you began to have an actual close relationship he would have servants bring hot water bottles to your room close to bed so you didn't have to be as effected by his chill. However by morning the once warm devices are now useless, yet he's less cold after a night of having you next to him.

Eventually you may try coax him awake. As he hides himself against your neck, feeling him voice complaints in a gravelly morning voice against your skin.

"My princess is so pushy, just rest order the servants to do the stupid errands. They're yours now."

Reiji

Reiji could go one of two ways depending on the day. A busy day or a holiday. Either way I think his room would feel fresh but still warm to wake in.

On the average day Reiji wakes you either accidentally as he gets dressed and ready for the day, or with a drink and some breakfast delivered personally to your room. He claims it's to prevent your morning mood effecting the household but it is actually to just keep you to himself a moment longer even if it's while you're both busy preparing for a long day ahead.

He runs his fingers through your hair to wake you, slowly massaging your scalp. You'd be surprised that it doesn't put you deeper asleep.

On the rare days he doesn't feel the need to wake as early he's sensual and soft. Rare for someone as prim and proper as him.

It's canon from the sleeping with a vampire audios that Reiji wears silk pajamas and bed sheets with high quality mattresses. I see him ordering you matching pajamas and night dresses in similar designs to his and he secretly waits until you get yours on before changing. He refused to admit when he's sweet. He melts when you sleep in his shirt after nightly romps in the sheets.

Ever the leading partner, you wake up being spooned by him either facing him or with you back against his chest and his face buried in your hair. You used to worry about it irritating him at first until one night you felt him nuzzle against it intentionally as he smelt the shampoo you had recently used.

Like Shu I feel he would do things to motivate the temperature difference. However maybe an electric blanket or a potion that will last the entire night.

Deepest as morning voice, grainy too completely unlike his firm even tone when awake. It's a personal side only you see. And forget Shu being the lazy one when Reiji has the time to sleep in with you. The man is begging for 5 more minutes.

"My love, stay...hm? Need a drink? I left one on the nightstand. ... You can't reach it?... Cruel woman treating your lover like this."

Ruki

Ruki's room must smell like candles and new books. A nice toasty feeling to wake to.

Clingy is the best way to describe how I feel he sleeps. So scared you may slip through his fingers or leave like others before, Ruki holds you close as you sleep.

I imagine he sleeps on his stomach due to having to sleep like that for so long after he initially got the scars on his back. His arm around your waist and head turned to rest abobe your shoulder.

The exception being when he reads a book to help you sleep. You lay, head against his chest or in his lap as he sits against a pile of pillows. You wake to his head against yours and the book left open on his lap as his arms encircle you.

Ever the slight sadist, on days you need to be up faster he might lightly pinch your sides to wake you. Chuckling as you squirm and complain at the rude awakening. Kissing you forehead in apology.

During nights where he has particularly bad nightmares you may have to wake him. Holding him against your chest and brushing through his hair as you comfort him best you can. You don't know when you both nod back off but you wake the next day to him still there resting more peaceful than ever. That being said night terrors have decreased drastically since you began to share a bed.

After you both wake up properly he holds you in his lap as you discuss your plans for the day. He takes his time laying kisses along your shoulders and down your sternum, a personal good luck ritual that makes the day a little easier to begin.

"Hm... where do you think your going? I assume like me you don't want to leave my side yet. Especially with those fingers tracing along my body. How shameless."

[pupkashi]

new year, new superstition

whoever said red underwear on new years brings love was onto something

a/n: happy new years [eve] !! i cannot wait to spend another year with y’all and making more silly stories that i hope u guys will enjoy :3 let me know what y’all think of this silly thing i thought of at 4 am <3

wordcount: 1,246

masterlist

you never believed in myths dealing with the new year. you never cared to run around with a suitcase or wear polka dots or to start sweeping and somehow eat twelve grapes all in under a minute.

and you most definitely never went out to buy yellow or red underwear to wear on new years.

until today, when you consciously wore your red pair of underwear, what’s the harm? it won’t do anything anyway you thought to yourself, continuing to get ready for the party your friend had invited you to.

your friends cheered as you they spotted you among the crowd of people, motioning for you to join them as they said hello, handing you a champagne glass as scooting over so you could take a seat.

after a couple minutes of talking you excuse yourself to the bathroom, hurrying as you check the time.

11:56 pm

you’re walking quickly, stopping in your tracks when you can’t find your friends.

there’s a light tap on your shoulders, “excuse me,” the voice is unfamiliar, making you turn around quickly. you’re greeted with stunning blue eyes and snowy bangs falling into them, a charming smile on the strangers face.

“hi,” you smile softly, not wanting to seem rude, “can i help you with something?” your head cocks to side a bit, confused as to why this drop dead gorgeous man was tapping you on the shoulder minutes before midnight.

“yes actually!” he grins, “see my best friend over there, thinks i have no game,” he points at the bar, you subtly glance over, seeing a man with long black sipping on a drink, observing the two of you, “he thinks i won’t be able to find someone to kiss by midnight.”

you stare at him dumbfounded, what the fuck was going on. “so you want me to..?” you trail off, staring at the much taller man as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“kiss me at midnight, yes,” he grins, “only if you want of course! if not feel free to walk away,” you weigh the pros and cons of the situation.

pro’s: you kiss a hot guy on new years, he proves he has game

con’s: ?

“yeah why not,” you laugh, “I’m y/n” you smile, the man flashes you a smile before replying, “satoru!”

the people around you begin to countdown and you step closer to satoru, giggling when his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you a bit closer. you let your arms snake around his neck.

“five! four! three-!”

“can i kiss you?” he breaths out, you nod, crashing your lips onto his as balloons fall from the ceiling, fireworks popping can be heard from outside as everyone cheers.

your lips fit together perfectly, you can taste his vanilla chapstick and the champagne he was sipping on. satoru feels like he’s on cloud nine, smiling widely when you two pull away.

“happy new year, satoru” you grin, lips still tingling as he smiles back at you.

“happy new year y/n” he replies, about to say something else when your friends find you, quickly whisking you away. you look back at him, an apologetic smile on your face as you wish your friends a happy new year.

it’s almost an hour later when you’re walking out of the building, tugging your jacket a bit closer to you when the cold breeze hits you.

“you cold?” the voice makes you stop in your tracks, a smile fighting it’s way onto your lips when you turn around, bright blue eyes meeting yours.

“aren’t you?” you reply, watching as he approaches you with a grin, he shakes his head.

“only been out here for twenty minutes” he laughs, teeth chattering a bit. the sound makes your mouth fall open, laughing softly.

“why have you been out here for twenty minutes? you don’t even have gloves on oh my god!” you squeal, instinctively taking his hands in yours, face burning when you realize how much larger his were than yours.

“didn’t wanna miss you,” he admits, cheeks even rosier than before as he looks at you, “couldn’t leave my new years kiss without getting to know them a bit more” he smiles, “especially when they’re an amazing kisser,” he teases.

you can’t help but roll your eyes, a bit embarrassed as you tug him back into the lobby of the building.

“if you wanted my number all you had to do was ask” you reply, satoru wiggles his nose a bit, smiling at you and humming.

“yeah but then i wouldn’t get to talk to you while i slowly unfreeze” there’s a flirty glint in his eyes, his gaze makes you look away for a second, flustered as you try to think of something to say back to him.

“we’ll what kind of person would i be if i left you hanging after giving you the best kiss of your life?” you laugh, watching as his smile grows even wider, giggling at your words.

you can’t help but immediately become even more attracted to him as he laughs, dimples popping out and making you swoon.

the two of you talk for a bit longer, deeming him warm enough to live before you’re scribbling your number onto his palm, kissing his cheek and waving goodbye.

you wake up the next day with a message from an unknown number:

it’s satoru :)

would you wanna get lunch sometime ? you see my best friend thinks i have no game … :3

you can’t help but laugh, biting your lip as you reply to his text,

well what kind of person would i be if i didn’t help prove him wrong :/

satoru swings his feet as he reads your reply, shoving the phone in suguru’s face, sticking his tongue out before texting you.

maybe he should be glad shoko accidentally washed his clothes with hers that one time, turning all his whites red.

he’s glad he wore that pair of white turned red pair of boxers that night, he can’t imagine a life where he didn’t have you in his arms right now, celebrating new years together once again.

it’s just the two of you in your house this year, 24 grapes in a small bowl on the table next to you, giggling softly as you cuddle together on the couch, watching the live feed of the countdown.

“kiss me at midnight? I’ve got something to prove to my best friend” he smirks, you can help but roll your eyes at him, sitting up and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him gently.

“oh shut it” you smile, crashing your lips onto his as the clock strikes 12 fireworks displaying on the tv screen, lighting up the entire living room.

you pull away quickly, grabbing the bowl as the two of you scarf down the grapes, laughing when satoru almost chockes on one of them. as the final chime of the clock sounds you press a kiss to your lovers lips, both of you smiling as he chases you for one last kiss.

“happy new years sweetheart” he mumbles, grinning when you card your fingers through his hair.

“happy new years angel boy,” you reply, pressing a kiss to his dimples before landing on his lips once more.

safe to say the two of you definitely believe in the new years myths now (suguru tells satoru he should get the credit, not shoko’s terrible laundry skills).

taglist: @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 10 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You missed out on a lot of things when you lived in Chicago, because you didn't want to do them without Bradley. On a very important trip, you and he both visit the city together.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 1500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

Five Months Later...

"I can't believe we're willingly flying to Chicago in January," you complained with a bright smile on your face. 

"This was your idea, Sugar," Bradley reminded you, holding up both boarding passes for the airline gate agent to scan. "It's not too late to stay in Vegas or fly to Fiji like I originally wanted."

"No, no. We're going to Chicago together," you told him, taking his hand as you boarded your flight from Las Vegas to O'Hare. Bradley spun your rings around on your finger as you located your seats and settled in. 

"Chicago in January. Two days before a blizzard is due to arrive. Are we about to go on the shittiest honeymoon ever?" he asked, kissing your lips. 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Listen, we just had Elvis marry us yesterday on the Vegas strip. We had a quickie wedding after being engaged for five weeks, and I'm not even pregnant. Now we're about to get snowed in together in Chicago. You'll be stuck in a room with me for a week. I don't think a conventional honeymoon is what we needed, Beer Boy."

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed. "Actually, now that you mention it, being snowed in with you sounds like a dream, Sugar. What am I even complaining about?"

"I don't know," you whispered against his scars. "You get me and Chicago deep dish pizza around the clock if you want it."

"I want it," he confirmed. "You can feed me pizza naked in bed after we have sex. And then I'll get hard again, we can have sex again, and you can feed me more pizza. It sounds like the perfect week. Chicago in January is everything I ever wanted."

You were shaking with silent laughter as the flight attendant went over the safety instructions, and soon you were in the air. And then you fell asleep on your husband's shoulder. Bradley jostled you awake in time to see the city all lit up against a snowy backdrop as the plane descended into Chicago. 

"Are you ready for this?" you asked, standing next to him with your bags, about to walk outside to get a taxi. "It's three degrees out there."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Bradley mumbled, but he looked scared. "No problem."

Once you and he were outside, he was practically crying as you took care of hailing a ride to the hotel. "You have thin Californian blood now," you told him as he snuggled up next to you in the back seat. You kissed his icy cold nose and forehead as you headed through the city where you lived for four years during grad school. "It's embarrassing, Bradley. I married a Californian."

He shivered in your arms and said, "We're both Virginians, Sugar. I just hate being cold."

You were playing with his hair and kissing along his ear as he melted into you. Every time you thought about the crazy juxtaposition that your life had become, you felt tears in your eyes. You had missed Bradley terribly when you were living in Chicago and still even after you graduated with your PhD. So it just felt right that he was here with you now.

"That's where I got my second tattoo," you whispered as the taxi drove slowly down a side street. 

Bradley looked out the window and smiled. "Should be a historic landmark."

Your laughter filled the small space as he kissed you. Then he paid the cab fare, and you had never seen him move as fast as he did when he hauled all of the luggage inside to the warm hotel lobby. 

"Let's go get a good night's sleep," you told him as he carried everything to the elevator and then into the hotel room. 

"We're not sleeping," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to snuggle with me until I'm warm again, which could take hours, and then I'm fucking you for the rest of the night."

He wasn't lying. You pulled him into bed with you, and held his body close, softly kissing him and telling him how happy you were. 

"I love you, Sugar. I loved you ten years ago, and I love you today, and I'll still be loving you ten years from now."

Slowly and meticulously, he undressed you beneath the blankets, touching and kissing each new bit of skin as it was exposed. He took extra time and gave extra attention to your tattoos, just like he always did. 

"I've been in love with you since the first time you wore my bathrobe," he told you before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts as you giggled. "No, before that. Since the first time I watched you put a bottle of beer to your perfect lips." He kissed his way up to your mouth, lingering there until you were sighing against him. 

"You've been in love with me since you met me then? Is that what you're trying to say, Beer Boy?"

He groaned as he slid his length inside you. "God, I fucking love it when you call me that. Every single time. And yes, Sugar, ever since I met you."

You made love to your husband all night, your hands and eyes roving over his body as you told him how happy you were that you both ended up at your class reunion in Virginia. That he was at the same bar as you that night last summer. 

When you both finally fell asleep, it was a long time before you woke up. Room service had already switched from breakfast to lunch, but Bradley got them to agree to send up a pot of coffee along with your lunch order. You and he ate all bundled up in bed together with the curtains open, the first flurries of snow falling outside as the storm moved in. 

"We need to head out soon so we can get back before it gets dark," you told him as he sipped his coffee. 

His expression looked unimpressed, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let's go, Sugar."

The taxi dropped you both off at the edge of the park as the sidewalks were getting slick from the snow. There were only a few people out and about, and even in the middle of the day, the sunlight was struggling to break through the heavy, gray clouds. Bradley had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you approached The Bean together. You stood side by side, examining if for a moment in silence. 

"It's just a big, metallic bean," you said, leaning into Bradley as the wind picked up.

"I knew it would be dumb as hell, Sugar," he replied, gesturing at it with his hand like there was no good explanation for what they were seeing.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and looked up at him as you started cracking up. "I'm glad I didn't see it without you. It was worth the wait."

"You were worth the wait. The Bean, maybe less so," he replied, kissing you as you took your phone out. 

After you took a bunch of selfies and texted some to Nat, you looked at Bradley and hummed. His cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and the tip of his nose was getting red. He was perfect, and he was all yours. 

"Have you given much thought to a little Bradshaw bean?" you asked as snowflakes stuck on his mustache. 

"Bradshaw bean?" he asked. His brow was creased before it started to smooth out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Sugar?"

You nodded and kissed his pink cheek. "Yeah, Beer Boy. A little baby Bradshaw bean. Just something to think about."

Both of you thought about it and talked about it as you stood in front of the giant bean in the middle of a blizzard. But you didn't need to make all of your decisions right now. You weren't planning on being without Bradley ever again. 

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

THANK YOU for reading along on this adventure with me! Beer Boy/Man and Sugar belong together, and I'm happy she gets to take him to Chicago, even if it's during a blizzard! I hope you had as much fun as I did! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Please visit the one-shot The Grateful Dad for some more Beer Boy and Sugar!

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[sirenfromthelostcity]

Snowed In [Modern! Mizu x Reader]

Recently i got snowed in at my job and in my sadness i got to thinking, huh what if this happened but in a good and romantic way? And most importantly, with Mizu. This is definitely very fluffy and cute but honestly i need it lol. This was also supposed to be posted way sooner but then i got the flu and that got me good y'all. Anyways i hope you all enjoy! <3 Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated, i would really like to hear what y'all thought of this and it really helps keep me motivated! <3

Also wanted to add I listened to Kali Uchis “Tu Corazon es Mio” to get into the cute mood 💕 y’all should give it a listen it’s a very sweet song.

Tagged: @extrasour2

You were propped against the couch with a despondent look on your face as you watched the snow blanket the city. As a kid, snowy days were the best because school was cancelled and you got to go outside and play in the snow. But frankly the older you grew the more you realized how inconvenient snow can be.

Especially today.

"I'm sorry the snow ruined our plans," Mizi mumbled as she joined you on the couch.

You could hear the sad pout in her voice and couldn't help but chuckle.

"I know you are not apologizing for something that is completely out of your control," you turned to her.

"I guess I am," her shoulders jerked in a brief chuckle before turning back to you. "I just feel bad. I know you were really looking forward to tonight."

"Of course I was. I think we both would've really enjoyed the food but we can always make another reservation. Today is still our anniversary and that's what I'm most excited about," while still on the couch you started to crawl over to her. Mizu's eyes darted between your eyes and mouth the closer you approached and you didn't stop your prowl until you were almost towering her.

"Anywhere with you is exactly where I wanna be. Come rain or shine. For better or worse," you whispered as you leaned into her and her eyes fluttered closed as you gingerly trailed kisses around the regions of her eyes, nose, and cheeks. She released a breathy sigh as your lips teasingly hovered above hers, a space she desperately wanted to close. She felt your lips twitch into a smirk, you had her right where you wanted her and she knew it.

“Fucking brat,” she rasped against your lips and one quick motion she yanked your legs and sent you flying back onto the couch.

You yelped at the abrupt landing and laughed as Mizu quickly seized your neck with gentle bites and kisses.

"That tickles, that tickles!" you cried out.

She felt your laughter reverberate through your chest and couldn't help but laugh with you. Still chuckling, Mizu pulled back to look at you and the snarky comment she had planned got stuck in her throat when she saw you look back at her with so much love and adoration in your eyes.

Prior to you Mizu only had one serious relationship experience and it was a very bad one. She disclosed this to you from the very beginning but what she didn't disclose is that because of her bad experience she almost decided against seriously pursuing you. She just didn't think a person like you could actually love a or even find a genuine interest in someone like her.

"Hey," you tucked one of her loose hairs behind her ears, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to you. "What's going on up there?" you gently rubbed at her temple.

"Hmm?"

"You look all pensive, you okay?"

"Yeah I was just-" she sighed, trying to gather her thoughts. "I was thinking about when we first started going out. How I almost ruined us..."

"You didn't almost ruin us," you chuckled. "I mean, I could tell you were scared but from what you told me, what you've experienced, I understood it. Honestly I was kinda scared too."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," you nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I had never liked anyone how I liked you. Every time we were together I could just feel myself falling for you more and more. It was like the more I learned about you the more I just liked you. It felt dangerous because I realized that you could really break my heart," you lightly laughed even though you were being completely serious.

Mizu caressed the side of your face, "I'd never do that. I'd never purposely do anything to hurt you. I've never been happier than I have been with you in these last three years. I love (Y/N), you mean so, so much to me."

"I love you too," your hand overlapped hers as she caressed your face and you gazed back into her lovestruck eyes. "I love you and every moment with you." You snaked your free hand behind her neck, gently guiding her lips to yours and Mizu happily complied.

The kiss is tender and soft as both pour your love for each other into it. You opened your mouth and Mizu took the bait, sliding her tongue in and she moaned as she reveled in the taste of you.

"Y'know I wouldn't mind spending the rest of our anniversary on this couch, or we could move to the bed if you want," she said as her lips trailed down your neck.

"The bed sounds lovely, however we do have to figure out what we're going do for dinner soon."

"I'm working on mine right now," she replied with a firm squeeze at your hips to which you laughed at her insinuation.

"Ha, funny but I said dinner not dessert- oh," you abruptly moaned as Mizu sucked on a particular sweet spot on your neck. "Fuck."

"My thoughts exactly," she grinned. Mizu gave you one last chaste kiss before getting off of you and you whined at the absence of her body against yours. “But I guess we do have to eat actual food eventually so…” she casually ambled towards your kitchen and opened the fridge, intently eyeing its contents. “We don’t have much but we have enough to make some pizzas. We even have some of the toppings you like.”

“Homemade pizza sounds fantastic,” you smiled to her. It didn’t take much to make you happy, especially with Mizu around. You rose from your spot on the couch and sauntered into Mizu’s arms, “But how about we visit the bed first real quick.”

At this Mizu gently laughed, “So impatient to get me into bed, huh?” Truly she loved that you wanted her as much as she wants you. But there was something she had to do first. “I’ll meet you there just give me two seconds okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you eagerly nodded. “Don’t make me wait too long.” You cooed as you walked towards your shared bedroom.

Mizu just stared at you adoringly as you disappeared into the bedroom. She then walked to one of the cabinets where she carefully hid a small blue box. She opened the box in her hand and stared into the diamond ring, grinning to herself. Quickly she pocketed the box, saving it for tonight.

There was a lot of things Mizu was unsure about but you were not one of them. Her love for you was unequivocal and when she thought of her future she couldn’t see one without you. She had thought long and hard about proposing, it was a big step but it was a milestone she knew she wanted to partake only once and only with you.

“Mizuuu….” You called out from the bedroom, bringing her back to the present.

“Coming, love,” she replied, finally making her way to you.

A/N: should I do a proposal scene y’all? 🤭 Ngl was kicking my feet in the air writing this lol I love fluff

Edit: Part 2!

[turbulentscrawl]

Since the topic of body hcs and body hair hcs overall...may I ask what do you think survivors smell like? I've seen some people differ and I just wanna know your thoughts ;w;

Also, we've gotta be honest. They *will* stink at times, specially after matches. But hey that's only but natural so *shrugs*.

They definitely smell more distinct than I think we'd be used to in general, yeah. And I DON'T think most of them smell unique enough to say how they're different from others, specifically, but there are a few things to consider, if we're looking at it a little more realistically:

More regular cleanliness was becoming normal in the 1800s, when most of the survivors were from, but the actual frequency of bathing varied by class and career. Showering daily still was not common until the 1900s, though. Even without any concerns about water supply in the manor, I would imagine most of them average a full clean-up maybe twice a week? A little more for those who get into actual filth on their days off. (looking at Emma, since she digs in the dirt and spend a lot of time outside.)

Deodorent was not invented until 1888, and didn't become popular until the 1930s or so. And most early deodorents didn't come with much in the way of additional scents, rather they just killed bacteria that caused excess body odors. Most of the people in the manor would not have used this, except perhaps the latest arrivals like Frederick and Alice. Instead, before deodorant, people took steps like shaving their underarms to prevent more sweat and bad scents, and used products like perfume and talcum powder to freshen up and get rid of odors.

Fancier soaps were around in the 1800s, but were used sparingly and economically. The lower class especially would have made their own ashen lye soap to bathe and wash their clothes. (Which, if you've never smelled unscented lye soap, is not pleasant to the nose imo. It's a bit of a pungent chemical smell, mixed with the scent of whatever the soap base was, which was usually lard and olive oil.) More expensive soaps could have been made from things like almond oil, coconut oil, or goat's milk, plus herbs or extracts for something much better smelling.

There's not a ton of hard labor to do in the manor, which would keep some people from working up so much of a sweat, but there's not likely an AC there. On the plus side, I don't imagine there's too much weather fluctuation in the manor for the sake of keeping the passage of time as confusing as possible, which also means it's not getting too hot. Most of the temperature changes you experience would be on the maps. I also don't think a lot of the Hunters would sweat! Any of those who have been dead and were brought back probably don't perspire anymore, though they may have the slightest hint of something off about them.

In short...yeah there's definitely more BO than we're used to in most modern settings. Most of the people in the manor are going to smell pretty natural--which won't always be offensive to the nose, mind you, since they say the smell of someone who's right for you will smell GOOD--plus some talcum/baby power or perfume scents to 'soften the blow' a bit. (Though it wasn't really in fashion to DROWN yourself in perfume by most of these peoples' time, so I think only a few people might lay it on too thick. Mary or Vera, for instance.)

And some people probably maintain very small scent hints about their professions or lives before the manor, just to distinguish them up close. Luchino has a touch of carbolic acid on his clothes, from sterilizing tools in the lab. Norton still smells of coal and minerals, just a touch. Victor smells a bit like sun-heated dog due to walking around outside all day with Wick, and Ithaqua like snowy pine trees from his years wandering and guarding winter woods. You get the idea.

I won't say who I think smells the worst or the best because that;s just too subjective--especially since I've revealed I don't like the smell of lye which is probably what most of them would have used LOL. But I'm definitely not one to say 'let's fully suspend our disbelief and say Naib smells freshly showered and uses Old Spice 😜'.