#you Can do that sure! who am i to stop you? but to me- in my opinion in my way- i think one should treat the characters as their friends

[pseudowho]

You and Kento bustled through the kitchen, and with your arms full of plates, you couldn't resist giving the top of Yuuji's head a nuzzle and a kiss as you passed.

Yuuji smiled at you both, full and warm for the first time in years. You and Kento felt his eyes on you as you weaved past each other, in a practiced after-dinner-clean-up Tango.

"Ah...hey, Nanamin, I-- I've got, uh...I've got a, uhm..."

Kento's interest was piqued. He stopped washing up and, with one raised fine eyebrow, turned to regard Yuuji while he dried the suds off his forearms.

"What is it, Yuuji?"

Yuuji looked awkward. Eventually, he stuttered out through a sheepish grin.

"I've uh...I've got a date tomorrow, so I won't be home for dinner."

A gasp. A smash!clinkclinkclink as you dropped a mug to the floor, and Kento closed his eyes in wounded resignation for the death of his favourite mug. You stepped across him, pressing your palms to the counter, wild-eyed at Yuuji.

"A date?"

"Uh...y-yea--"

"A date date?"

"...I...Nanamin, I'm scared--"

"--she can't hurt you, Yuuji--"

"A date!"

You could barely contain your excitement; Kento huffed, plucking pieces of porcelain from the floor, while you squished Yuuji's cheeks and cooed.

Yuuji barely escaped in one piece that evening before bed, grilled for any piece of information you could get your hands on. Eventually, he escaped, the lock clicking behind him as he shut his bedroom door.

Flopping onto your back into bed beside Kento, with enough force to make his reading glasses bounce on his nose, you sighed with one dramatic arm across your forehead.

"I'm just so happy for him, Kento."

A warm little smile; a folding of the book. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Did he say who it was?"

"You know, of all the things I asked him, I didn't ask him that."

A chuckle, a hum...a silence. A rustle of pages. A gentle removal of reading glasses, and Kento looked over you with quiet scrutiny, as if your state of undress in a t-shirt and nothing more stirred memories for him.

You blinked up at him, "...what's wrong?"

Kento's nose flared, and he laid down beside you, switching the light off. You could hear him blushing in the dark.

"Do you think Yuuji's a virgin?"

You felt a thud of realisation, and answered, "I...should think he probably is. I...what should we..."

"Don't worry," Kento answered, clipped and looping an arm over your waist, "I can handle that."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Yuuji. If you have a moment, could you come and speak to me, please?"

You felt an alarm bell in your soul. The sun was setting, on the evening of Yuuji's date, but Kento was still fully dressed. He'd even buttoned his suit jacket up and redone his tie. His pocket rustled. You could have sworn you saw a droplet of sweat drip down his temple.

You paused your murder documentary...and watched, for this would surely be more horrifying. Yuuji leaned round the bathroom door, innocently curious, and padded over with his hands in his pockets. He pulled out his phone.

"Ah...y-yeah, I think they'll be here in a minu--"

"Sit down. Please. Yuuji."

You could have sworn Kento left dents in the top of the chair that he grasped. Yuuji sat slowly, wary, looking between you and Kento. From your place on the sofa, you shrugged. Kento spoke.

"You're...a young man now, Yuuji."

"Ah...yeah. I-I guess I am. Thank--"

"--and sometimes young men have...urges."

You wished for death, but would take the entertainment before you expired. Yuuji's blush started at his chin, and climbed slowly upwards, a sun-ripening peach.

"...Nanamin. Please, you-- you don't have to do--"

"--and it's important to understand the difference between lust, and love."

"Oh god, Nanamin, I'm begging you--"

"--and while it's only natural to follow your urges, it's important to do so responsibly--"

"--Mrs.Nanamin, I'm scared--"

"--he can't hurt you, Yuuji--"

Kento pulled the rustling packet from his pocket, and placed it before Yuuji on the table. The room was thick with silence. Yuuji spoke, his voice breaking and his soul sweating.

"...Nanamin, please say that's candy--"

"I've bought you these condoms--"

"--please just let me die, Nanamin--"

"--ribbed, dots, big, small, strawberry I think--"

"--please-- I have to go--"

"--and I only ask that you're sensible and treat your partner with the respect and dignity they deserve--"

"--please treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve and just kill me Nanamin--"

"...and be home by midnight."

Silence. You had held your breath through the whole thing, and held one hand over your mouth. You studiously avoided Yuuji's gaze. Yuuji's mouth puckered, staring up at Nanami, who looked as serious as a car crash.

Yuuji's phone rang. He snatched it up, and made for the door. Kento called after him, mild, "Your condoms, Yuuji--"

"--oh well shit yeah can't forget those, fuck--"

"--language, Yuuji--"

Yuuji stood at the door, considering answering back. He took a single deep breath. He swallowed hard, and stopped himself from scarpering immediately, and turned back to Kento.

"Hey, uh...was that, erm...was that difficult for you, Nanamin?"

"It was the worst thing I've ever done in my life."

"Yeah, it--it felt it, uhm..." Yuuji waggled the bag of condoms with a smirk, pocketing them, "Thanks, dad. Nobara and Megumi are waiting. We'll go for a date, and the other idiot's our chaperone apparently."

As the door clicked closed, Kento released one great heaving breath, and arched back with his hands over his face, releasing an enormous, animalistic groan of agony.

You bubbled over, snickering, and traced one toe up Kento's thigh from behind.

"...oh hey, Mr.Nanami, sir, can you teach me about the birds and the bees--"

"Quiet."

[lostfracturess]

say it again — satoru gojo x f!reader

you've been married to satoru gojo for so long, but you've kept it quiet, so you can imagine his satisfaction at finally hearing you call him "husband" in public.

You've managed to keep your marriage to Satoru Gojo under wraps for nearly two year now. It isn't that you're ashamed—far from it.

Being married to one of the most powerful sorcerers simply comes with complications, especially given his clan's tendency to meddle in everything.

So you both agreed to keep it quiet. No flashy announcements, no public displays, just you and him. Sure, it means wearing your ring on a chain under your clothes and careful planning for your living arrangements, but it's worth it for the peace and quiet.

That is, until you slip up at the most mundane possible moment.

You're both at an official appointment regarding some property documentation. The clerk has been droning on about paperwork when she asks about your relationship to Satoru for the forms.

"Oh, he's my husband," you reply absently, still scanning the documents in front of you.

The scratching of Satoru's pen stops abruptly. You look up to find him staring at you with the most ridiculous expression—somewhere between absolutely delighted and utterly self-satisfied.

"What was that?" he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

You blink, realizing what you've just said. "I mean—"

"No, no, say it again." His eyes are practically shining now. "What am I to you?"

"Satoru," you warn, very aware of the confused clerk watching your exchange.

"Come on," he says, leaning closer. "One more time. What am I?"

"We're in public," you hiss, but you can feel your cheeks warming under his gaze.

"Please?" He bats his eyelashes at you in that ridiculous way of his. "For your beloved husband?"

"You're impossible," you mutter, but you can't help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Impossibly charming? Impossibly handsome? Impossibly perfect as your husband?"

The clerk clears her throat. "Should I... put down 'married' then?"

"Yes!" Satoru answers before you can. "Put down that I am this wonderful person's husband. Their spouse. Their better half. Their—"

"She gets it," you cut him off.

But Satoru isn't done. For the rest of the appointment, he manages to work the word "husband" into nearly every sentence. "As her husband, I think we should sign here." "My lovely spouse and I would like copies of that." "Do you need both myself and my better half to initial this?"

By the time you leave the office, you're ready to strangle him.

"You're enjoying this way too much," you say as you walk to the car.

"Can you blame me?" He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. "It's not every day I get to hear you call me your husband in public. Usually it's all 'this is Satoru' or 'we're together' or my personal favorite, 'yes, I do unfortunately know him.'"

You roll your eyes, but can't help leaning into him. "You know why we keep it quiet."

"I know, I know. The clan would be insufferable." He presses a kiss to your temple. "But maybe we should tell them anyway? Can you imagine their faces when they find out we've been married this whole time?"

"They'll have our heads for this."

"Perhaps. But you have to admit, the thought is tempting. No more sneaking around, no more hiding that ring." He catches your hand, thumb brushing over where your ring should be. "I want everyone to know exactly who you are to me. And what I am to you. What was it again?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Come on," he coaxes, "just say it once more."

You pretend to consider it. "And what do I get out of this?"

"My eternal love and devotion?" He gives you a long look. "And I'll do the dishes for a week."

"You're supposed to do those anyway," you point out, but he's already pulling you closer, that insufferable smirk of his growing wider.

"Say it again, love," he says, and the way he looks at you then—eyes soft and full of adoration—makes your breath catch in your throat.

All your defenses melt away under that gaze, the one he reserves just for you, the one that makes you forget why you ever try to deny him anything.

"Husband," you breathe, and feel him tense slightly against you.

"Just like that," he whispers. "Though I prefer when you add my name to it."

"Don't get ahead of yourself."

"That's what I do best," he says. "Besides, my darling wife, I think you secretly love it when I am."

The way he says 'wife' sends a shiver down your spine—something you know he notices from the satisfied look in his eyes. "You're impossible."

"Impossibly yours," he corrects, and despite his playful tone, there's something sincere in his gaze. "What do you say? Ready to scandalize some elders?"

Looking at him now, you can't remember why you ever wanted to keep this secret. "With you? Always."

He doesn't wait for more, just leans in and captures your lips with his, and you think maybe going public isn't such a terrible idea after all.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[tokkiwrites]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After breaking up with your boyfriend of four years, you’re left heartbroken and desperate to leave it all behind. But as fate would have it, just as you’re about to walk out the door of his house, you run into his fatherㅡ the man who’s always lingered at the edges of your mind. the next sensible thing to do is fuck him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: pwp, bf's dad joel miller x f! reader, short description of toxic rs, fight scene, afab reader, i dont know if this is categorized as cheating :p , age gap, fingering f receiving, joel has a huge one but we alr know!, dirty talk, pet names, p in v unprotected, creampie, slight slapping and hairpulling.

✿ 🪽 𓈒 ﹫𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 ..＼ ♰ i have been neglecting you cute freaks, but i am here to feed you. behold! boyfriend's dad joel miller smut! around 2.6k words, so it's pretty short, but i hope you love it. not proofread!!!!! okay baiiii 😎🫶🏻

The fight tears through the house like a hurricane, each word leaving wounds too deep. "You never listen to me!" you yell, your voice raw and trembling. Your chest aches, your throat burns, but the word vomit won’t stop pouring out. "Four years, and it’s like I’m shouting into a void! Do you even care about us?"

"Do you even fucking hear yourself?" he fires back, pacing the room like he can’t bear to stand still. "God, all you do is pick fights! You always need something to be wrong. What the actual fuck?"

"Because something is wrong!" Your voice cracks, and the tears come faster now, hot and humiliating. You hate how small you feel, how desperately you want him to care. "I’ve been fighting for this, for you, and all you do is act like it’s a burden!" He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Maybe it is. Maybe you are." The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches, and for a moment, the room feels impossibly still. You don’t want to cry anymore, but the tears fall anyway, blurring your vision as you step back. "Fine," you whisper, your voice trembling. "If that’s how you feel, then we’re done. I’m done." He freezes, his expression shifting to something almost regretful— but not enough to stop him. "Fuck this." He grabs his keys from the counter and storms out without another word. The door slams behind him, the sound echoing in the quiet house.

For a moment, you just stand there, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you try to hold in the sobs threatening to break free. The silence feels suffocating, pressing in on you from every angle. You can’t stay here. You need to leave.

You grab your bag and wipe your face as best you can, hands still shaking. You tell yourself you’re fine, that the fresh air will help. But as you turn the corner into the foyer, you collide with something solid— someone solid. "Whoa there," a low voice drawls, steadying you with hands firm and sure. Your heart stutters as you look up and see Joel, your now ex-boyfriend's father.

Your breath catches in your throat. His hand is on your arm, warm and grounding, as his dark eyes search your face. His presence is like a balm, so different from the storm you just walked out of. He’s all quiet strength and rugged edges, his salt-and-pepper beard only making him look more like someone carved out of the earth itself. "Hey, sweet girl," he says, his tone warm and laced with that familiar twang. "What’s got you all worked up? You alright?" The sound of his voice is enough to break you all over again. You shake your head, the tears spilling over despite your best efforts to hold them back. You try to answer, but your words falter. All you can do is nod, though you know you’re far from alright. Not when his thumb is brushing lightly over your flesh, not when his scent�� warm, woodsy, familiar— makes your knees fall weak. You can’t look at him, can’t look at the steadiness in his eyes or the way his hands ground you when you feel like you’re falling apart.

"Hey now," he says softly, pulling you into a hug before you can protest. His arms wrap around you, strong and safe, and for the first time all night, you don’t feel like you’re about to shatter. "C’mere, sweet thing. You gotta talk to me, mkay? What happened?" You press your face into his chest, breathing in hus smell that makes you feel like you’re home, even though you know you shouldn’t.

It’s absurd, really. You’ve always known he was handsome, but standing this close, it hits you differently. You’ve always noticed him in ways you shouldn’t, caught yourself glancing too long, wondering too much. And now, with tears still wet on your cheeks and your heart in pieces, he feels like the only steady thing left in the world.

"It’s over," you mumble against his shirt, your voice muffled but thick with emotion. "I broke it off with him. For r-real this time..." Joel pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands settling on your shoulders as his brow furrows. "You and him?" he asks gently, but you could tell he wasn't quite sure in your answer. "You sure ‘bout that?"

"Y-yeah..." You nod, your throat tight. "So you don’t have to... act nice anymore. You don’t have to pretend like you like m-me or care or whatever. It’s done now..." His expression shifts, confusion flickering across his face before something warmer takes its place. His lips part slightly as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

"Sweetheart," he says, his voice dipping lower, softer, like a secret meant just for you. "What the hell gave you the idea I don’t like you?" You blink up at him, stunned. "I just—"

"Little lady," he interrupts, leaning closer, his voice growing rougher, "it’s damn near impossible not to like you." Your breath catches as his thumb brushes over your cheek, his stare unflinching, as he examines your tear-stained face. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never noticed before—something unguarded, like he’s been holding it back for years. "Sweet thing like you," he murmurs, his lips quirking into the smallest of smiles. "Anyone with half a brain’d like you. But me? Hell, darlin’. I’ve liked you since the day I met you."

You step back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze fully, searching his face for any hint of pity, of kindness given out of obligation. "You don’t need to lie to me," you say, voice trembling. It feels like your heart is spilling out of you, breaking open right here in front of him. "Not just to make me feel better..."

Joel’s brow furrows, his dark eyes softening, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. A thread holds stretched taut between you. He doesn’t drop his hands from your shoulders, doesn’t let you pull away any further. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, studying you like you’re the most important thing in the world right now, like he’s trying to figure out how to put the pieces of you back together.

"What reason would I have to lie to ya now that you ain't with my sorry ass boy?" His voice is low, almost a whisper, but it carries a shiver down your whole body. You swallow hard, shaking your head. "I don’t know. I just—" You stumble over your own tongue.

Joel exhales slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes bore into yours. simmering, waiting to swallow you whole. "Darlin’," he murmurs, "Let me show you then." Before you can even think, he leans in.

The world falls away the moment his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, hesitant, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him if this isn’t what you want. But when you don’t pull away and when you melt into him instead, your fingers clutching at his shirt, he deepens the kiss, large hands sliding from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer.

His lips are warm and sure, washing away any heartbreak you might've felt.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, his breaths mingling with your own. "Am I lyin'?" Your chest tightens, the tears welling up again, but this time they’re different. They’re not the tears of heartbreak—you’re not even sure what they are, only that they feel a little like hope.

"Mister Miller," you breathe, his name dancing on your puffy lips. He smiles, soft and a little sad, brushing a thumb along your cheek. "I got you, sweet girl. You just let me." and you crumble completely. with no hesitation, he picks you up, taking you to the nearest bedroom, where he closes the door behind.

it felt wrong. it was wrong. but the way he looked looming over, you got your head spinning in all the right ways. the bed pooled under you, sheets rustling as you watched joel discard part of his clothes. you nip at your lower lip, scooting your body upward to remove the pants you had on. in mere seconds, both of you are naked, gasping, and holding onto each other like nothing else mattered.

You finally get to see joel fully naked and you can't quite understand how a man his age looks the way he does, and how he's still single, given the package he's been blessed with. "you can stop starin' now. you wanna get me shy?" joel teases, his shaft now on full view for you to gawk at. you're taken by surprise when he so easily pulls you down towards him.

he trailed kisses down your chest like flowers fall from cherry trees in the spring, your body reacting in ways you didn’t know were possible. "Please hurry..." and he chuckles, maybe proud maybe amused to see you this desperate. "'m sorry, darlin'" You purr under his touch, wrapping around him like he's a lifeline. his lips crash against yours again, rough palm slipping into your wet panties. you gasp, the feeling so strange yet so familiar. he lets go of your lips, thick fingers working their way inside of you. Joels eyes meet yours, and he curls his digits, speed picking up. the sounds youㅡ your pussy made, were pure music to him, constant encouragement to go harder, faster, loving the way you looked crumbling onto his fingers. "got such a pretty pussy. Sure you ok with an old man ruin it for anyone else?" he asked it as if it was the least absurd thing he could say right now. you nod your head profusely. "atta girl. knew you were the obedient kind first time I saw ya."

"You gonna come?" Almost mocking you, but you could bot form the proper words. You just looked deep into his glinting eyes as your hand made its way to his hardened crotch. "P-pleasee..." Joel almost loses himself, but he's steady with his movements. "Wanna come on my cock, hm? is that what you beggin' for?" your folds drip and clench around him deliciously, you don't want it to end. and when you're almost there... he stops. you whine in protest but you're quickly put back in your place with a firm tug at your hair. "You take what I give you, girl. Now ass up." you comply. in a second, your back is facing him, red cheeks now hidden into his pillow. you try to balance yourself up with one arm, but he grabs you by the wrist.

"Spread 'em." And you do just that, pulling at your flesh. like an auction. only it's you presenting your cunt for fucking. "Fuck, look at that..." he tuts, gathering some of your juices on his pulsing tip, dragging it up and down your puffy lips. "Pretty girl. She cryin' for me, baby?" a string of fain 'yesyesyes' reaches his ear. hes quiet for a bit but the moment he pushes the tip inside you feel your knees buckle, all the strength you had left into your arms fluttering away. you fall face first into the mattres under you as joel pushes down your lower back. it hurts, but the pain is delicious. your moans feel the room, the occasional slap to your ass interrupting them. Joel is strong, fast and brutal, leaving you no room to breathe, fucking so deep into you you're sure he's way past your bellybutton. "T-takin' it so well, pretty girl, so well.." your skin burns where joel touched it, whole head fuzzy and empty. "pleasepleaseplease" as the whole bed shakes and strums to his movements.

your back arches as waves of pleasure break over your body like water on a shore. your head was spinning, heart pounding, as his whole weight dominated over you. "That's it, baby, take it." his thrusts are rough, each hit making your body bounce, the urgency as he hit that very spot each timeㅡ your whole insides burning, too cock drunk to talk or respond, other than some pathetic whines that perfectly accompanied the wet sounds your pussy made. "been dreamin' about havin' you like this, baby. look at herㅡ" joel throws his head back, delivering a harsh thrust, the pain quickly melding into pleasure. "gonna come, hm?" he's stern and rough with his request. "hhhaㅡ y-yes, plea-se..." You don't know if you're crying because it feels too good or because of how long you've waited for this, no matter how unforgiving this could be.

eyes shot open when he roughly yanks your hair, your skin slapping on his being to only sound you can faintly make out in your dazed state. you let your whole body go, tongue lulled out as he takes out on you anything he might've been feeling. you were at his mercy, your moans irrefutable. your stomach flips and churns as that familiar feeling pools again in your lower tummy, and you were chasing it, crying. from what, you didn't quite know. maybe because you've never been fucked this good or maybe because it'll be over too soon.

the room was stuffy. "o-oh myㅡ god!" You yelp when joels speed picks up, shocked that he can go that fast, considering you've heard him multiple times complaining about his bad back. "shitㅡ i gotta come, baby. you gonna let me do it in ya? huh?" You nod your head so, squeezing around him like a ring, and he rewards you with a slap to your ass. "fuckin' slut." he laughs through breathy moans. you're holding on for dear life, reaching for anything your fingers can grasp at this moment. you're sure the neighbors are having a blast seeing the whole house shake. "that's it, girl. take itㅡ c'mon..." with a few more pumps his hips come to a halt, whole body trembling as he comes ropes inside of you. you let go, bliss washing over you, the ringing in your ears covering the soft curses escaping Joel's lips. steadying himself, he pulls out, voice cracking as he speaks again. "fuuck... baby, look at her." he smiles crooked, watching intently as his come drips out of you, cascading down to your thighs. you lick your lips, looking back and right up at him whilst spreading your legs wider.

"Don't do that. think I don't have it in me to fuck you again?"

you tease, "i don't know. do you?" and he laughs, pushing inside of you again, watching as your face contorts in pleasure. "Careful, girl."

you wonder when your boyfriendㅡ i mean exㅡ will come back home.

[suksatoru]

Sukuna is sure there's something wrong with you for loving him.

He's not lovable. He didn't even know how soft love could be until you came around. Sukuna is a brutally honest man, but he can't stop muttering the lie "I don't love you" against your lips even as he kisses you

He lies a lot to you, he realizes. He lies when he tells you that you mean nothing to him, he lies when his fingers dig into your skin as he reminds you you're replaceable. He lies when he says you're stupid—you have a brilliant and creative mind he adores

He thinks you'll slowly fade away like all the things in his life eventually do. He thought his love for you would slowly flitter and diminish with time and he'd stop thinking about you constantly

Unfortunately, Sukuna wasn't familiar with love. He didn't know how unpredictable it could be at times, or how it worked. It brought out parts of him he didn't even know existed.

"I was offered a job in another kingdom."

He looks down at you. You're laying on his chest right now. A single, delicate finger moving across the dark ink swirling on his skin as your face is pressed lovingly against his scarred body.

His large palm drags itself over the nape of your neck and towards the back of your head. He gently fists your hair and tilts your head upwards so you can see his scowl

"You're not going anywhere."

You smile. It makes his chest feel tight and his heart rate pick up as you slowly lift your head off of his chest, criss crossing your legs as you sit up on the bed beside him

"Who are you to tell me what to do?"

If anyone else had even dared to think the words, let alone speak them, Sukuna would've sliced their body into more pieces than they could ever count. But you're a fearless thing. While people tie toe around him, you dance around the King of Curses like you couldn't care less.

He smiles. The gesture feels odd but his lips naturally curl upwards at your remark. One of his hands lazily caress your thigh as he gently nudges the fabric of your night gown out of the way

"Who are you to try and leave? You belong here. With me." Sukuna says lowly, his voice dropping an octave as he looks at you through half lidded eyes. You can see the amusement in his eyes as his fingers wrap around your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze before you sigh

"But what if I wanted to leave? You said it yourself, I am not a priority of yours here." You press, leaning closer with a small pout on your lips as he scoffs

"I don't care." He mutters, not meeting your eyes as he looks up at the domed ceilings above him. Sukuna's room was never a place he used to enjoy being in. To him, the golden furniture and high, carved walls never made him feel anything at all

Now, in the mornings, he'd wake up to you peacefully sleeping beside him. Curled into his side, your presence had become an unshakable thing in his room. Slowly, it became a bundle of passion and love for him to exist freely in.

"Just say you're in love with me." You tease, your soft laughter slowly pulling his gaze away from the ceiling as he watched you crawl back onto his chest, pressing feather soft kisses onto his jaw

He lets out a breath through his nose, mentally preparing himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth as he puts his hands on your waist to steady himself.

"I...I do." he mumbles, more to himself as your raise your brows in surprise

"You what?"

He grits his teeth, wondering why you're making this so difficult for him. Sukuna glares at you silently, hoping you'll be able to push past his arrogant words and see the underlying message

"You know what. So shut up and go back to doing that stupid thing you were doing." He concludes, referring to when you were tracing his tattoos. You laugh louder as your eyes crinkle in amusement

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. can you try that again, your highness?" You smirk, pressing your palm flat against his pec as he scowls

Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't give in to the brat. Don't—

"I love you."

The words come out strained, almost a whisper as he stares up at the ceiling. His grip on you is tight and he absolutely refused to look down into your eyes. He knows your lips are probably parted in shock. Your silence is long as he awaits a response, suddenly questioning if he'd said the right thing—

Both of your hands grab hold of his cheeks, slowly turning his face towards yours as one of his arms instinctively reaches out to pull you closer

Your voice is soft, but the warmth and relief that spreads through his chest is a welcomed sensation

"I love you too."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst V

Leah Williamson x Child!Reader

Summary: Leah gets in trouble

"He-Hello? Hello? Jord...Jord, I can't hear you. Give me a moment."

The sound of the music and the crowd surrounds Leah as she steps a bit further away, shoving her phone as close to her ear as she can manage.

"Jordan! Jordan?! Can you hear me?!" She's practically screaming down her phone, straining her ears for even an inkling of Jordan's voice.

"Leah Cathrine Williamson!" Is what she gets in return. "Why is that music so loud?!"

"It's a festival, Jordan," Leah says back with an eye roll," I'm near the stage and-"

"And if you're near the stage, who exactly is with our child?! Seeing as it's nearly midnight so she should be in bed!"

Leah freezes, a bolt of lightning running down her spine as she glances towards her friends.

You're bouncing along to the music as her cousin pours some of your fruitshoot into a little plastic cup so you feel like you're being included in all the drinking the adults around you are doing.

A worried chuckle comes out of Leah's mouth that she hopes Jordan doesn't hear.

"Our kid? Our little Lovebug?"

"Yes!" Jordan snaps down the phone. "Bug! Our child, Leah. Our child who should definitely be in bed right now!"

"Well, she is in bed!" Leah lies," Fast asleep. I gave her a kiss good night and everything. My cousin's called it a night so she's babysitting."

"Really?" Jordan sounds like she doesn't believe her even down the phone. "So if I go on Instagram right now, I won't see any pictures or videos of our daughter partying in the dark?"

"No," Leah says, calling Jordan's bluff," No pictures or videos of our Bug."

The music is so loud that Leah can't hear Jordan's answering hum. To be honest, she's not really focussing on the call anyway.

Her friends have formed a little half circle around you as you bounce along to the Coldplay song playing, cheering you on as you get more and more into it.

A soft smile plays on Leah's lips as she watches and she's so engrossed that she almost misses Jordan's next words.

"So if Bug's in bed then you wouldn't mind switching to a videocall and show me what's going on?"

"Jord-"

"You know I'm not actually asking, Leah."

Guiltily, Leah switches to a videocall.

Unlike her, who is in a muddy field with pounding music, Jordan's curled up on her sofa back home in Birmingham. She's got Blu on her lap fast asleep and a soft blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

She looks cosy and snug back at home and Leah flashes her a nervous smile.

"And now you can flip the camera."

"Oh? Are you sure? Why don't we-"

"Leah. The camera. I'd like to see our child."

Begrudgingly, and because she knows that there is no way out of it, Leah flips the camera around.

"Mum!" You call out, bouncing enthusiastically from within the half circle around you," Mum, are you flimin' me? We're goin' to show Bear and auntie Kei?"

"Er...I've got Mummy on the phone actually!" Leah calls back to you and you stop bouncing immediately.

You shove your see through cup of fruitshoot off to Leah's cousin and hurry over, practically trying to climb Leah to get even a glimpse of Jordan.

"Mummy? Mummy! Mummy! Mum, help! Want to see Mummy!"

Leah hefts you up onto her hip, flipping the camera again so Jordan can see you both together.

"Mummy!" You exclaim, happily wiggling in Leah's arms," Mummy, did you see me dancin'? I can dance!"

Both Jordan and Leah aren't quite sure whether they classify what you do as dancing. Bouncing is probably a more apt decision.

You've been a bouncer since your birth practically. Your old baby bouncer was probably your favourite toy of them all and from the moment you first heard music, you've bounced along to it.

"And what a good dancer you are!" Jordan says, beaming at you," Are you having fun with Mum?"

"I am!" You say, bobbing your head up and down happily," Mum says at a festival there is no bedtime! And-"

Leah's mouth comes up to cover your mouth as she quickly tries to do damage control.

"What Bug means is there's no bedtimes for adults-"

"No, you said that there was no Bug Bedtime," You interrupt, prying her hand away from your mouth," You said there were no rules. Just not to tell Mummy..." You eyes widen as you look at Leah's phone. "Oh, sorry, Mum."

Leah sighs. "It's fine, Bug. Mummy would have found out either way."

"Mummy's very smart."

"Yes she is."

"And very, very angry at you, Leah," Jordan says," It's bedtime for Bug now."

"What? But Mummy-"

"Bedtime for sleepy little Lovebugs," Jordan says, her voice back to the soft one she always uses when addressing you," Because it's way past little bugs and their bedtimes."

"Mummy-"

"I love you, my Lovebug."

You huff. "Love you too, Mummy."

"Take. Her. To. Bed. Leah."

"Will do, Jords. Night."

"Goodnight."

The calls is dropped in the next second and you look up at Leah, tilting your head to the side.

"Is it really bedtime for little Lovebugs?" You ask and Leah grins.

"I don't think your Mummy can be mad if you get an extra five minutes...maybe another hour."

[beautifullilacsky]

"Will you overthinking this?" He asked as we were walking hand in hand in the park.

Me, fully aware I have already started overthinking the moment he mentioned that her friend broke off her relationship: "....... juuup"

"What are you overthinking about? Lets discuss it together, let me help"... I explained how, maybe, now that she is single, she might try to get over a guy by getting under another one. Or maybe, since you guys tall about problems and are pretty close, she turns to flirting now that she is single. "Okay and? Why would I get into that while I have my girlfriend at home? I would say no thank you. Also, I don't think she is the person to do that. I have met her before she was in a relationship, and she also wasn't like this then". Okay, well, .. maybe she will have heard bad things about me and will not like me or she will think I am not good enough for you, or too much, and tell you to break up with me. I mean, I'm in a relationship with you, not with her, but ja, well... He put his arms around me and stopped us from walking on, hugging me from behind. "Sometimes I forget how insecure you can be. Do you really think I'll just break up with you because someone tells me to? And besides, I think you should meet her. She is really kind and everytime I mentioned something, she was always more on the reassuring side." Well, I also thought your other friend was kind.. "..... true. ..... I don't have an argument against that."

"So... if she were to still be in a relationship, would it be okay? .. meh, I feel like that's a bad excuse. "Yeah she is in a relationship anyway" , as if that changes anything. Doesn't that sound like a bad thing to you?" Hmm. Well. Honestly, I felt better when she was in a relationship, assuming it wasn't an u know who typa relationship. It's always a 2 people's decision. And that way, I am at least sure that one side is on the no side (as I said it out loud, I realized how fuckedup it sounded.) "Shouldn't you trust me to already be on the no side?" .... I should, yes. I just don't know what to make of the fact that you told me that you can't promise me that it won't happen again. "That was a year ago" .... "back then I wasn't super sure, and before that I was def not sure. Also, I did not want to force you to trust me (def different exact words from his, buthey, u get the point.). It's been a year." Would you get back to it and say something different now then? "Yes. I am sure that it will never happen again".

And there it was. I know he is a firm believer in actions over words, but sometimes I need words to be sure. He told me that he tells me the truth, and I know he does. Thus, if he tells me, I believe him. So. Maybe this is what I needed to truly get to trusting him again. His word. It's not a signed contract, I know. I can't sue him if his words turn out to be false. Though, I needed this. I needed his faith in himself to make sure it won't happen again. Fuck damn hey. I needed him to believe in himself. If he doesn't believe he will stop it the next time, who am I to believe so? Well well well. Before he left, if our roommate wasn't sitting right next to me, I would've said after he asked me if I'm still okay (for like, the 3th time): "if you say it won't happen again, I trust you." Fuck. And I'd mean it. I feel like I have entered a new reality. One in which it is safe for me to have faith in him. In which, sure, maybe a girl will flirt with him, but I can laugh about it. I can be proud to be with that hotstuff that she can't help but talk to. I can make jokes about it and raise my eyebrows up and down. I can do it all, and enjoy the situation, knowing. Truly knowing. That it doesn't matter at all if the other party is on the "yes-boat". He isn't, and he won't get onto it either. Even if a chance presents itself, he won't even see it as one. He has the set in stone plan to come back home to me. Even if she would get him drunk and touch him all over, ... he will say no. Even if it scares me more with booze, he is still himself. He doesn't get into a crazy trans and turns into a different person with different values. He is still the same person who held my hand as we walked in the autumn colored park, and said that it would never happen again.

It feels like something in me has been freed. As if trust was a fluffy creature within me, which was tied down. His words freed it. It still can't believe that the tiny trust guy is free. That it's safe to stand up now and run and smile and truly trust. It's astonished, grasping for those words that set it free. Wanting to hold them and craving for them to invade its veins with its lightning energy and brightness. May it no longer feel the need to stay on the ground; the ties have been undone. Fuck.

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You go home for Thanksgiving and who else joins your family but none other than their wonderful neighbours Agatha and Rio

-OR-

You struggle to make it through the meal and so does Agatha, but she "accidentally" spills her drink which means you fuck in the bathroom :)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, fingering, oral, mention of humiliation kink

Words: 3.5k

A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND KUDOS!!! to celebrate here is a bonus seasonal chapter :D Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate, and to those who don't enjoy the chapter ;)

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Master List

A Thanksgiving To Remember

As the morning light filters through the blinds, the hotel room is dim and quiet. You wake up slowly, feeling warm and content, your body still tingling from last night. You shift slightly, realising that Rio is already awake. She’s sprawled comfortably on her side, her head resting on the pillow, her hand absently stroking your arm. Her eyes flicker open as she senses you waking, and she smiles at you lazily.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Rio hums, stretching and running a hand through her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good thanks, how about you?" You smile, feeling the pull of her easy, bright energy. Was she always so upbeat in the mornings?

“I’m great. But she,” Rio gestures toward Agatha with a playful smirk, “isn’t a morning person.”

Behind you, Agatha just grumbles in response, muffling her face into the pillow and pulling you closer into her. Rio leans over, a mischievous grin on her face as she brushes Agatha’s hair from her face. “C’mon, darling, I’ll make you coffee,” she offers sweetly, but you can hear the hint of a challenge in her tone. 

Agatha groans again but finally starts to sit up, stretching with an audible crack in her spine. “Fine, fine,” Agatha mutters. “But it better be good, or I’ll go back to sleep.” 

Rio laughs and gets up to make coffee, leaving Agatha to rub her eyes before looking at you. You share a quiet moment, the lingering energy from the night before making the air between you feel heavy with unspoken thoughts.

As Rio busies herself in the kitchenette in the corner of the room, Agatha grabs her phone and starts swiping through it. Not wanting to bother her, you reach for your phone too. You’re happily scrolling when a notification pops up

MILF 1 has added you to the group chat.

MILF 1 named the group chat Check-In Group

MILF 1: There. You can’t ignore us now, sweetheart.

You’re smiling at your phone when you feel Rio standing next to you, coffee in hand

“What are you smiling at? Not another potential date, I hope." She meant it as a tease, but you can hear the hint of jealousy in her voice.

“No,” you chuckle. “In fact, it’s just the opposite; Agatha is making sure that never happens again.” You tilt your phone to show Rio the notifications.

She looks down at your phone, her eyes narrowing slightly at the screen. “Why do you have Agatha saved as MILF 1?” she asks, raising her voice loud enough so Agatha hears.

You laugh nervously and quickly glance at Agatha, who’s sitting up now and lazily sipping her coffee, her attention on the two of you. She raises an eyebrow at you, her eyes glinting with something more than just curiosity.

“Well?” Rio prompts, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You squirm under their combined gazes, feeling both flustered and slightly turned on. “It’s just the truth,” you admit sheepishly, your voice dropping as you fidget with the comforter. “She is a mom, and, well, I do want to f—” You stop yourself just in time, your cheeks heating as you look anywhere but at them.

Rio raises an eyebrow, a wicked grin curling on her lips. “Oh? And what am I saved as?” she teases, voice low and playful. “Please tell me it’s not just MILF 2.”

Your face goes hot, and you start fiddling with the comforter in your lap. “It might be.”

Rio bursts into laughter. “You really couldn’t think of something more creative?” she asks, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

Agatha’s smile never fades, but her eyes darken, and she stands up, stretching slowly. “Okay, on that note, I’m going to go shower,” she says, cutting through the playful moment. She gives Rio a brief kiss on the cheek before heading toward the bathroom. “You two behave while I’m gone.”

As Agatha disappears into the bathroom, Rio sets her coffee cup on the nightstand and leans closer to you, her expression shifting. There’s an undeniable heat in her eyes as her lips brush against yours in a kiss that’s possessive and urgent. “So you like to fuck us, hmm?” she whispers against your lips, her breath warm as it fans over your skin.

Your breath catches as her words sink in, and your body reacts almost instantly, a tingling warmth pooling low in your belly.

When the bathroom door clicks shut behind Agatha, Rio doesn’t waste a second. She pushes you back against the pillows, her touch both gentle and commanding. The electricity in the air is palpable as her lips find yours again, her kiss deepening with every passing second.

You moan softly when her hand trails down your side, grazing your hip before slipping under your waistband. She pauses just long enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re already so excited for me. Do you like it that much when I humiliate you?” Her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver.

Before you can answer, Rio presses her lips to yours again, cutting off any reply as her hand moves with a confidence that leaves you breathless. Her touch is slow at first, teasing, as though she’s savouring every little sound you make in response. The tension between you builds rapidly, and the air is charged with unspoken need.

Somewhere in the background, you faintly register the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Rio pulls back just enough to mutter against your lips, her voice low and dripping with desire. “I’ve got about ten minutes until she's done showering.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the hunger in her tone unmistakable. You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet her gaze. “I don’t think we’ll need that long anyway,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of her intensity.

Rio smirks, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your answer. She wets her fingers with your arousal before burying two of them inside you, igniting a fire in your core that threatens to consume you completely. “So eager for me already,” she murmurs, her voice both teasing and utterly dominating. Her words make your breath hitch, the hint of humiliation in her tone only heightening your anticipation as she begins to fuck you.

There is no slow buildup, and Rio is mercilessly fucking you in seconds, pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make; you’re pretty sure that the whole floor can hear you now.

She starts to pump her fingers faster, and you can hear how wet you are. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down before soothing it with a quick swipe of her tongue. "Shhhhh, baby, try and keep quiet for me; Aggie can’t know what I’m doing.”

The idea that this sex was potentially forbidden pushes you over the edge, and you grip on to her shoulders for dear life as your orgasm comes crashing over you. You pull Rio into a messy kiss to try and dampen your moans as you wind down. She pulls her fingers out, humming with pleasure as she sucks them clean.

“Fucking hell,” you pant.

Rio looks at you with a devilish grin. 

The sound of the bathroom door opening jolts you out of the haze. Agatha steps into the room, towel-wrapped and hair damp, her expression calm as she surveys the scene. Rio immediately freezes, her eyes widening slightly like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

But Agatha doesn’t say a word. She simply raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, before turning back to the closet to finish getting ready. Her calm, collected demeanour somehow leaves you even more flustered than being caught outright.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. After Agatha and Rio get you dressed, they drive you back to your college apartment; their voices light and playful. “Remember to actually text us this time,” Rio teases as she pulls up to the curb. “We’re not just for weekends, you know.”

“Yeah, text us, sweetheart,” Agatha adds with a soft smile. “We like hearing from you.��

“I will,” you promise, glancing at your phone, already thinking of what you were going to text them.

—

Later that evening, you’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone when you notice a new notification in your group chat with Agatha and Rio.

Check-In Group

MILF 2 changed the name to MILFs Anonymous

MILF 1: Rio!

MILF 2: Come on, just let me have this one thing :(

MILF 1: Fine, but Y/N, change our contact names now please

You roll your eyes at Rio’s antics but do as you’re told, not wanting to dissapoint Agatha; you still feel a bit guilty for having sex with Rio this morning.

—

Over the next few days, you find yourself texting with them more and more. The conversations flow easily—Agatha constantly checking in on you, always asking if you’ve eaten or if you’re doing alright. It’s sweet, in a way you didn’t expect, but it’s comforting. Rio, on the other hand, can’t resist sending her terrible dad jokes, which, despite your best efforts, always make you laugh.

MILFS Anonymous

~ 15:48

Rio: What do you call a group of crows that stick together?

You: Oh God, please stop

Agatha: Seriously. You’re not funny

Rio: VelCrows :)))

Agatha: Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you

Rio: It’s because I fuck you like there’s no tomorrow ;)

~ 21:17

Agatha: *click to open image*

Agatha: Huh, you don’t look like you’re doing much fucking to me

You drop your phone with a loud clatter. You were not expecting to see a picture of a Rio naked and tied to the bed with a vibrator pressed against her clit and by the looks of it, she had been like that for some time. You spend the rest of your evening fucking yourself to that image. Each time you think you’re done and can't cum any more, the image pops into your mind again, and you start to imagine all the things they would do if you were with them, and before you know it, your hand is back between your legs.

—

Thanksgiving break arrives faster than expected, and the familiar comfort of your parents' home feels like a welcome change from the chaos of college life. You arrive in the early afternoon, greeted by the warm aroma of roasted turkey and spiced pies wafting from the kitchen. It’s a little odd being home after everything that’s happened with Rio and Agatha, knowing they live just next door. You wonder if you’ll see them during your visit.

It turns out you don’t have to wonder for long.

A knock at the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and your dad answers with a cheerful, “Agatha! Rio! Happy Thanksgiving!”

Your stomach flips.

You appear in the hallway just in time to see them stepping inside, Agatha holding a neatly wrapped gift basket and Rio carrying what looks like a bottle of wine. They’re dressed casually but still look effortlessly gorgeous; Rio is dressed in a breezy striped blue shirt that’s half tucked into her jeans. The loose fit of the shirt somehow adds to her charm, her confident movements making it clear she’s completely at ease. Agatha, on the other hand, is the picture of sophistication, her fitted blazer in a warm mustard hue paired with a turtleneck and slacks giving her a commanding presence that turns heads—even in such a casual setting.

“We just wanted to drop this off,” Agatha says, her usual polished tone soft and warm. “A little something for the holiday.”

“Oh, nonsense, you’re not just dropping it off,” your mom insists, appearing behind your dad. “You’re staying for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you did for this one when they got locked out in the rain.”

Your heart nearly stops. You glance at Agatha, who meets your wide-eyed look with a calm, knowing smile.

“Really, it wasn’t any trouble,” Agatha says smoothly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I mean, we could’ve just let them in with the spare key you gave us, but... well, we thought they might prefer a warm bed and some company at ours instead.”

Your cheeks burn as Rio chimes in, her grin bordering on wicked. “And they didn’t seem to mind one bit.”

Your parents laugh, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind the exchange, but you feel like you’re about to combust. Agatha and Rio both throw you brief, pointed glances before following your mom into the dining room, leaving you standing there trying to steady your racing heart.

—

Dinner starts off innocently enough, but the air feels charged in a way you can’t quite explain. You’re hyper-aware of Rio sitting across from you and Agatha beside you, their presence consuming all your focus.

Rio’s long fingers wrap elegantly around her wine glass as she listens to your dad talk, but her gaze keeps drifting to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk every time your eyes meet. Meanwhile, Agatha takes every opportunity to lean close, brushing her arm against yours under the guise of reaching for the breadbasket or whispering a sly comment in your ear that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“You look a little flushed, sweetheart,” Agatha purrs at one point, her tone dripping with amusement. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, biting your lip to keep from saying something that would give you away. Rio catches the exchange and arches an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the two of you knowingly.

It only gets worse as the meal progresses. Rio’s foot grazes yours under the table, lingering just long enough to send a thrill up your spine. 

When Agatha pours herself another glass of wine, she tilts the bottle toward you with a raised brow, silently asking if you’d like more. You nod, not trusting your voice. As she leans over to fill your glass, her lips brush your ear so faintly it feels like a whisper of air. “Behave, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice so low and intimate that a shiver runs down your spine.

You clench your thighs and glance up at her wide-eyed, but she only pulls back with that same subtle smile, her expression calm and unreadable.

You do your best to stay composed, but your mind is spinning. Every touch, every look, and every smirk makes it harder to focus on anything else.

Then, as if the universe wants to test your resolve further, Agatha “accidentally” spills a bit of wine on her sweater.

“Oh, shoot,” she says, dabbing at the stain with her napkin.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” your mom says quickly. “Y/N, show Agatha where the bathroom is, and grab her a clean top from the laundry room, will you?”

You nod, your pulse quickening as you rise from the table. Agatha follows you down the hall, her calm exterior betraying nothing, but you can feel the tension radiating off her like heat. You scurry off to grab Agatha a clean top and quickly show her to the bathroom.

The moment you’re alone in the room, she closes the door behind you with a soft click and turns to face you, her expression shifting from composed to utterly predatory.

“Finally,” she murmurs, stepping closer, her voice low and thick with desire. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all evening?”

Your breath catches as she backs you against the counter, her hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against her. Her lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss hungry and demanding, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads through your entire body.

“Agatha, we—” you start to protest, your voice a shaky whisper, but she silences you with another kiss, her hands sliding up your sides to cup your face.

“They’re none the wiser,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “Now, let me have you for just a moment.”

Before you can respond, Agatha’s hands drift lower, deftly removing anything on your bottom half that will get in the way of her goal and letting the fabric fall to the tiled floor. Her gaze darkens as she sinks to her knees in front of you, her palms sliding down your thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, full of lust and mischief, as she leans in closer. “Dripping everywhere,” she murmurs, her voice husky and teasing, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Just like the first time we were in a bathroom together. Seems I have a knack for this, don’t I?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as her words hang in the air, her presence between your legs sending a surge of electricity through you.

It might be Thanksgiving, but your body feels like the Fourth of July when she drags her tongue from your entrance to your clit. She sucks it into her mouth and flicks lightly with the tip of her tongue before releasing it and going back to push her tongue inside you. The woman is on a mission and wastes no time in bringing you close to your climax in record time.

Her hand clamps over your mouth, not willing to risk you letting the whole street know that you’re going to cum, and then, with a final flick of her tongue, you’re glad she did because the orgasm hits you like a fucking 18-wheeler truck, your legs start to shake, and you have to grip on to the sink to stop yourself from collapsing. 

Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as the world tilts back into focus, your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened. Agatha stands, her movements unhurried and precise as she grabs a tissue and delicately wipes the corner of her mouth, her expression one of calm satisfaction.

"Still as sweet as I remember," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she crumples the tissue and tosses it into the small trash can by the sink.

You blink at her, still clinging to the edge of the sink for balance, your legs shaky and your mind a hazy blur of aftershocks. Agatha’s hands are steady as she helps you straighten your clothes, her touch lingering just a moment too long, her fingers grazing the small of your back before she steps away.

She smooths the fresh top you fetched for her, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Perfectly put together, not a single hair out of place. You can’t help but marvel at her composure, especially when you feel like you’ve just been turned inside out.

Agatha turns back to you, a soft, almost maternal smile on her lips as she gives your ass a light pat. “Go on, darling,” she says, her tone playful but firm. “Head back out there before they start to wonder. I’ll be right behind you.”

You swallow hard, willing your legs to cooperate, and make your way back to the dining room, still trying to regain your composure.

The two of you return to the dining room during dessert, the scent of sweet pies and coffee wafting in the air. Agatha looks completely composed now, her clean top fitting snugly as she takes her seat next to you. She even stops for a moment to dab a napkin at the corner of her mouth—the perfect picture of elegance considering she was wiping away the last remnants of your cum. You, however, can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you settle down, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze too directly.

From the other side of the table, Rio watches the two of you with a smirk that’s far too knowing for comfort. She raises her glass in a small toast, the corner of her lips quirking in amusement before she takes a slow sip.

“So,” she says casually, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with mischief, “did the mess get sorted out?”

Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, shooting her a calm, collected smile. “All taken care of. They were very helpful.” She says, draping an arm around the back of your chair.

Your mother beams, none the wiser. “Well, that’s sweet. Always good to know you’ve got a helping hand.”

Rio stifles a laugh behind her hand, her eyes meeting yours briefly. The heat simmering beneath your skin refuses to let up, and you can only hope that dessert wraps up soon—before someone else catches on.

-----

"we could’ve just let them in with the spare key"

*humming* it was Agatha all along

⚠️Remember⚠️validation saves lives (this fic dies when I believe nobody likes it anymore because I have imposter syndrome)

-----

taglist: @aceday @valarmorghuli @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @4theluvofsapphos

[barcarsenal12]

Girls like Girls pt 2

summary: after her talk with her teammates, r begins to reckon with the changes to her identity. A huge invasion of her privacy leads to a very upsetting, very public reveal. Luckily, her teammates are there to pick up the pieces.

TW: coming out, questioning sexuality, panic attack, pg13: making out

The days and weeks after your breakdown were easier. It felt like a release-- like you needed to pull the plug, and  all of your emotions out before you could start to reconcile. You started to come back from the panic that had gripped your body, and you found your footing in football again. 

Still, you were constantly aware that something had shifted within you. Sometimes that knowledge would threaten to overwhelm you, othertimes it felt inconsequential, but it always sat like a weight in your stomach. 

Mapi, Ingrid and Alexia kept an awkwardly close eye on you for a little while. That very first afternoon, when they held you on the locker room floor, Alexia brought you home with her and tucked you into her spare bedroom. She refused to leave your side until she could see that your thoughts had settled. In the days that followed, they seemed to have collectively decided to give you space. They checked in on you daily, but never brought up your sexuality, as if they wanted you to initiate any conversation on the topic. You found yourself in their presence more and more. The four of you started to spend more time together outside of training. You felt so loved, but at the same time a little embarrassed for making something as teeny as your sexuality such a big deal. They didn’t seem to have such issues with their own sexualities, after all. 

Still, being around 3 women who were so deeply in love with other women helped you more than you could tell them. As you began to settle in with your new identity, you began to seak out their support.  

--- 

Two weeks after your realization, you found yourself on Mapi and Ingrid’s couch, tucked snugly into Aletlexia’s side. A movie was playing, but it was late, and you were fairly certain that Mapi and Ingrid were both sound asleep. They were curled up on the other end of the sofa, and both seemed to be breathing heavily. Alexia’s arm was around you, and you would have thought that she was asleep, too, if not for the mindless way that she played with your hair. 

“Ale?” You whispered into the dark, figuring that if she didn’t hear you would just drop it. 

“Hm?” She hummed back.

“Can I talk to you?” 

Alexia hand in your hair stopped, and she slowly reached for the remote to pause the movie before pulling away from your grip to see your face. 

“Always,” She looked at you with concern. 

You glanced nervously at Mapi and Ingrid, who were very clearly asleep. “I think that I’m definitely gay.” You whispered, almost as if it was a secret. 

Alexia laughed quietly, and reached up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Ok, neña.”

“Like, I think all the way.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “You think that you are a lesbian?”

You bit your lip, and nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

She pulled you into her, resting your back against her body again. “I think that I am too.” She whispered back. You could hear her grin, and you laughed, too, and flicked her leg. “I’m glad that you are figuring it out. I know that this is very scary.” She said, still quietly. 

“Yeah,” you said, looking down, “can I ask you a question?”

“Okay.” 

“How did you know?” You asked.

“That I was gay?” She confirmed, and you hummed in response. 

“I was young, I started to catch feelings for Jenni.” She started. “I wasn’t sure if I liked her as a friend or as more,” she continued, “but one day she kissed me.” 

You giggled, and Alexia poked you in the side. “Callarse or I’m never going to tell you things ever again.” 

You covered your mouth. 

“She kissed me, and I realized that it was definitely more than friends.” She exhaled sharply. “Mapi was already out, so it was easy for me to follow her path.”

You nodded. 

“Do you like someone, pequeña?”

You thought for a moment that you were talking about crushes with your captain. It crossed your mind that you should be embarrassed, but somehow here, in the dark, you weren’t 

“No, but I think I might like to find a girlfriend.” 

Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “Just pick someone good for you. I never liked your boyfriends.” 

“I will,” you laughed, “Thank you, Ale.” 

---

It was another two weeks before you found yourself at a club Before long, you were past tispy and had made no complaints when a pretty girl began to lead you outside, away from your friends. You suddenly felt woefully unprepared, as if you had never even had your first kiss, and your heart almost beat out of your chest as she pulled you into the alley behind the bar. 

She reached for you, her finger tips tracing your jaw and the back of your ear before tangling in the hair at the nape of your neck. You could feel her breath on your face, and you thought that you might pass out from the anticipation. She was gentle, though, and she leaned in slowly, brushing your lips with her own before pulling back. You followed her, leaning forward as she pulled away. 

“I-” You started, but were cut off as she leaned back towards you, kissing you with a slow intesity that no man had ever been able to give you. Her hands were in your hair, and yours were tracing her spine, and you were melting into her, disintegrating, and you were sure that your legs were giving out, but somehow you were still standing. 

She must have sensed that you were struggling to hold your weight because a minute later you were pressed against the wall of the bar. You gasped as your back collided with the bricks, and she took the opportunity to push her tongue between your lips. The world around you disappeared as all of your outside senses dulled, as if turning all of their energy to this girl in your arms. 

She pulled back and began pressing feather light kisses to your jaw. She traced her way down to your neck, and you brought your hand up to the back of her head, pushing her closer to you. You moaned as she left a mark, and pulled her back up to find her lips with your own again. you pressed your knee between her legs and she groaned into your mouth, pushing you back against the wall and deepening your kiss. 

You jolted apart at the sound of your phone ringing. You flipped it over, and sighed at the sight of Mapi’s name on it’s screen. 

“I have to take this,” you apologized, voice full of regret. 

She leaned closer to you. “Ok,” she whispered in your ear. You swallowed, and your hand shook as you brought your phone up to your ear. 

“Hey Mapi,” you mumbled, hoping that your voice wasn’t wobbling. 

“Hey nena” Mapi responded. As she spoke, the girls against you began to kiss your collarbone, and you had to fight to keep your voice steady. 

“What’s up?” You asked.  

“Nothing much. Just checking in.” The girl’s hand traveled down your body, and you gasped as she reached the waistband of your pants. You tilted your head back against the wall, trying to keep your composure. 

“I’m fine.” You said, knowing that fewer words were better right now. 

“Ok,” Mapi said, suspicious, “Do you need a ride to training tomorrow?”

You closed your eyes, and tried to focus your mind, but the girls fingers were now brushing over the cloth of pants between your legs, and your head felt like mush. “Sure, Mapi that would be great. Listen, I need to go. Have a good night.” You hung up the phone before Mapi could respond, and brought your attention back to the girl. She brought her mouth back up to yours, and you groaned as she removed her hand, brushing her fingers across your cheek. 

“Come back to mine?” She whispered, her voice a question. 

You sighed. As drunk on her as you were, you knew that you couldn’t have a one night stand with training the next day. 

“I can’t,” you breathed. She frowned at you. 

“Can I at least get your number?” She asked, and you nodded happily. 

“Would you want to get dinner sometime?” You asked, like her tongue hadn’t just been inside your mouth. 

She laughed as you put your number into her phone. “Sure. I’ll text you.” 

She kissed you one last time, the walked off to find her friends. You took a moment to compose yourself, before staring the short walk back to your apartment. 

---

When you got home, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your face was flushed, your hair was messy, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing out loud. 

---

It was Ingrid that saw the news article first. She didn’t make it a habit to check football news, especially not the tabloids, but she happened to stumble upon the pictures posted by a fan account on instagram. Her eyes widened at the photos and she quickly scanned the attached news piece. The initial shock of seeing you with someone, when she hadn’t even know that you were thinking about dating or starting to experiment with women, faded as she realized what this would mean for you. She ran a hand through her hair, sighing to herself and wondering how the world could be so cruel. Ingrid picked up her phone and clicked on your contact. When the phone rang out, she grabbed her car keys and ran out her door. 

Today was an away game, but because both Ingrid and you were sidelined with minor injuries, you had both stayed home. Mapi and Alexia, on the other hand, were on the bus heading home. As Ingrid started to pull out of her driveway, she connected her phone to her car speaker and dialed Mapi. When Mapi didn’t pick up, she called Alexia, who thankfully picked up on the first ring. 

“Ale”, she sighed out. 

“Hola,” Alexia responded, “Is everything ok?”

“Have you been on instagram?” Ingrid asked.

“No.” Alexia said. “Why?”

“It’s Y/N”. Ingrid answered. She waited a moment, as Alexia opened instagram and was immediately looking at pictures of your face. 

“Mierda,” Alexia mumbled, “How quickly can you get to her?” 

“I’m on my way,” Ingrid responded. 

--- 

You had never in your life felt this kind of fear. It crashed over you, in wave after wave that slowly broke you down. You had seen the post on instagram, instantly recognizing yourself, the girl,  and the bar that you were at that night. This part of you that was so raw, so fresh, so not ready to be shared, had been thrust into the world. Now the waves were pulling on you. They were pushing you down, down, underwater, where you surely would drown. You couldn’t remember how to breath properly, and you were suddenly aware of the fact that you would probably never breath again. 

This was it. This was where you drowned. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you registered the knocking, but all of your senses were dulled. You couldn’t hear anything past the waves crashing over your head and stealing the air from your lungs.

 You suddenly couldn’t even remember what you were so worried about in the first place. All that you knew was the anxiety that consumed your entire body. You were dying. Of course you were. This was it. 

--- 

When Ingrid realized that you were not going to open you front door, she frantically started to search for your spare key. She checked the doormat and the mailslot before finally finding it tucked away above your doorframe. She sighed with relief, and quickly shoved her way into your home. 

“Y/N?” She called, but got no answer. She poked her head into your kitchen, and upon seeing you curled into a ball, heaving with unfinished breaths, dropped her things and kneeled down before you. 

“Sweetheart,” She said, although she was sure that you couldn’t hear her. Every part of your body was shaking. She wasn’t sure that you could even be considered crying, you couldn’t seem to get enough air into your lungs to form sobs. You were wrapped around yourself, gasping desperately for air. 

“Kjære,” Ingrid tried again, tapping lightly at your hand, “Can you hear me? I need you to breath.” When you didn’t respond again, she grabbed your face and connected your eyes, trying hopelessly to get through to you. She had never felt so helpless. 

Ingrid’s phone rang, and she picked it up immediately. 

“Maria,” She said.

“Ingrid? Are you with her? Is she ok?” “Si, I’m with her. I don’t know what to do, Maria, nothing’s helping.” She said desperately. 

“What’s wrong?” Mapi asked. 

“Shes-” Ingrid took a breath, “I’ve never seen a panic attack this bad in my life. I don’t know how to help her.” 

Mapi inhaled sharply, “She’s having a panic attack?” 

“Yeah,” Ingrid confirmed, and heard rapid spanish and a loud exclamation on the other end as Mapi passed the information to Alexia. 

“Mapi, help,” Ingrid said, on the verge of tears herself as she watched your body fold further in on itself.

“Breathe, amor. Don’t freak out.” Mapi said. Ingrid refrained from pointing out that Mapi seemed an awful lot like she was freaking out. “Ale and I just got off the bus. We’ll drive straight there, 15 minutes tops. 

Ingrid sighed in relief. “Ok.” 

“You’re doing everything right, Cariño. We’ll be there soon.”  

“Please hurry.” 

---

Alexia could not sit still as Mapi drove them towards your home. Her knees bounced and her hands ran through her hair, and she tried to prepare herself for what she would see when she got to you, tried to think of what she could do to make this better. Mapi, on the other hand, had never felt this much rage in her life. She remembered your fears, and to see them coming to life sent waves of anger through her body. 

Mapi pulled in to your driveway, and barely put the car in park before Alexia was throwing the door open and barreling towards your apartment. Mapi caught up to her as she pushed your front door open. 

“Y/n?” Alexia called, “Ingrid?”

“In here!” Ingrid responded from the kitchen. 

They followed her voice, and Alexia let out a short gasp when she saw you, curled in on yourself, still gasping for breath. She fell to her knees in fron of you, quickly taking you into her arms. 

Mapi took in the scene in front of her and went straight to Ingrid, who looked wrecked. Mapi pulled her into a hug. “Has she gotten any better?” She whispered into Ingrid’s dark hair. 

“No,” Ingrid whispered against her shoulder, “She’s been like this since I got here.” 

Alexia’s full attention was on you, trying every trick that she knew to get you to calm down. 

“Chica?” She said, taking your face between her hands. “Can you hear me?” 

You weren’t real anymore. You didn’t think that you ever had been real. You were still tumbling, desperately stuck in your mind. Somewhere, you registered muffled voices and felt hands on your skin, but the waves of panic pushed you over again and again, forcing you back underwater. You had little breath to waste on trying to speak, but you so desperately needed help, before you life surely ended. Already, the edges of your vision were getting hazier. 

“Ayudame,” you rasped out, and Alexia felt her heart break. 

“I’ve got you. I have you, mi nina.” She said, frantically pulling you back into her. 

“Ale, she needs to breath,” Ingrid said, “or she’s going to pass out.” 

Alexia looked back at her, tears of frustration threatening to fall. “I don’t know what to do.” She said, desperately. She squeezed you tight, praying that the pressure would get through to you. You continued to squirm, fully gasping for air now. 

All at once, your body sagged against her, your eyes fluttering closed. Finally, your breathing evened out. 

“Nena?” She said, tapping your cheeks with her fingertips, before looking at Ingrid and Mapi in panic. 

“It’s ok,” Mapi exhaled shakily, “her body did what it needed to.” 

--- 

When you woke, it took a moment before you could place yourself. You delicately pried your eyes open, and quickly realized that you weren’t alone. Someone’s hands were combing through your hair. Ingrid’s, you realized. You were leaned against her, stretching across your couch. Alexia was sat in the chair across from you, her head in her hands. Mapi was here too, sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the couch by your feet. . 

Your first thought was to be worried about how upset Alexia looked. Then, the memory of what had happened crashed over you again. You closed your eyes, hoping to stay here, where you felt so impossibly safe, for as long as possible. You must have moved, though, because Ingrid was softly calling in your ear. 

“Neña?”

You opened your eyes again and met her gaze. She exhaled in relief, her shoulders sagging, and you flushed guiltily, realizing how much you had worried your friends. “Hi, Ing.” 

Alexia jumped up at your voice and was beside you in a second. “Y/N,” she said, running a hand across your sweaty forehead, “how are you feeling?” 

You shrugged and pushed yourself into a sitting position, ignoring the question. “When did you guys get here?” You asked. 

“A few hours ago,” Mapi chimed in from the doorway to your kitchen, “You were a little--” she cut herself off,  “you weren’t feeling so well.” 

“Neña,” Alexia said seriously, touching your hand lightly, “have you ever had a panic attack like that before?”

You shook your head, not meeting her eyes. She sat on the couch beside you, pulling you into her and pressing a kiss into your head. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, mi nina. You never have to be embarrassed.”

You sunk into her side. 

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” she whispered to you, pushing your hair behind your ear. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You didn’t need to ask her to clarify, your eyes already filling up with tears. “I just, I so wasn’t ready for the world to know. I was just trying something… new, and now everyone knows, and I didn't even get to choose to tell them or not.” You paused, brushing a tear from your cheek. “It feels so personal, so private. I only just figured this out, and I needed more time to be able to explore it by myself.” 

“I know, cariño,” Alexia said, “It is so unfair that this happened to you.” 

You turned your head, catching Ingrid’s eye. “Do you think the team will be mad?” 

She laughed, and smiled at you. “Mad? Elskling, they will be thrilled.”  

“You don’t have to worry about being the odd one out there,” Mapi chimed in, but you noticed that her smile was too tight. 

You smiled back, but another tear rolled down your cheek. 

“Is there something else?” Alexia asked you, brushing the tear from your cheek. 

“I just--” you looked away, swallowing sharply, “there were a couple comments that freaked me out.” 

Alexia’s face dropped, “oh, neña.” She was, of course, not stranger to homophobic comments, but remembered too well how much the first ones had hurt. “What did they say?” 

“They were dming me, calling me gross and saying that they would… make me like guys,” All three of the women around you sucked in a sharp breath, and you continued quickly. “I know that I don’t know them, and I shouldn’t let it bother me, but it just, I guess it just--” 

“Y/N,” Ingrid interrupted you, “you know that you’re safe, right?” 

You nodded. “I know that they can’t get to me, but the fact that they want to--” 

Alexia took a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was sharp. “That’s really, really scary. Those are awful people. You are not gross, and you are protected from people like that. Do you hear me?”

“Si, Ale,” you nodded, surprised by her tone, “I hear you.” 

Mapi suddenly pushed her way to her feet, and walked into the kitchen. 

Ingrid watched her go, and smiled at you before standing up to follow her.

You looked at Alexia in surprise. 

“She is just angry. Really, really angry at the people saying these things to you. I don’t think that she wants you to see her mad.”

You nodded slowly, and sat in silence while Alexia ran her hand up and down your back. A minute later, Mapi and Ingrid walked back in and sat down across from you. Mapi clutched Ingrid’s hand. “I’m sorry, neña, I know that you are so strong, but it just makes me very upset to see you being treated this way.” 

“I don’t want to make you upset.” 

“You could never make me upset. They make me upset, the people saying these things to you, and you so don’t deserve it. I know that this sucks. But we’re here for you, ok?” She said,

“Ok,” you responded, looking around and meeting the eyes of each of the women around you, “thank you,” you whispered. 

You smiled at Alexia, and she smiled back, and you felt so, so, endlessly grateful to be surrounded by so much love. 

A/N: I know that is has been a while!! I finally found the motivation for this. Sorry not sorry.

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part One / Previous Part / Part 10.1 (you are here)

A03

Chapter 10 is complete and will be fully uploaded to A03 this weekend when I can get around holiday shenanigans. It's very long so tumblr gets it in parts. I'm sure I could make a Thanksgiving food pun there if I tried hard enough but alas I am not Steve nor Dustin.

Apparently, if you stumbled into supernatural shit, you were rewarded with a mountain of legal paperwork so absurdly thick that Gareth was almost positive it included a government-approved execution clause for anyone reckless enough to speak about things better left unsaid

So, here they were: barely a week past the lab incident, eating lunch, keeping their heads down, like their entire world hadn’t been turned upside down.

(He couldn’t even appreciate the pun.)

“She keeps looking over here.” Tiff’s pen tapped out a furious rhythm, her gaze fixed on one Nancy Wheeler, “And she’s been following us.”

“Well according to Steve she knows about--you know.” Gareth said, keeping things vague in hopes it would prevent any visits from men in black suits.

“I’m sure she just wants to talk.” Jeff said with a note of sympathy.

The fucking traitor.

“I’m sure we’re not allowed to talk.” Stewart muttered darkly, pushing his peas around his lunch tray with a fork.

“Only with people who don’t already know.” Grant tried to argue, and that rapidly dissolved into an argument regarding NDA’s and tricky legal language that Gareth tuned out in favor of his new found hobby--doing his level best not to think about anything beyond his lunch and what new D&D character he wanted to play.

His last one died in the prior game, and though Eddie had--weirdly and entirely out of character--offered to revive it, Gareth had waived him off.

They needed some normalcy right now, and if that came at the cost of Gareth’s beloved druid meeting her maker, then so be it.

Plus a new character was a great distraction.

(He was set on playing a noble elf known as ‘Gregg from Accounting’, but a second dwarf named Iron the Chef had been tempting…)

“She’s coming!” Tiffany hissed, slamming her pen down.

Mourning the loss of an easy, drama free lunch, Gareth sighed and prepared himself.

“Hi.” Nancy said, announcing her presence with quiet determination, books stacked in her arms and chin raised defiantly.

No one said a word back.

“Jonathan let me know what happened, and I wanted to say that I’m sorry you got pulled into all of this.” She paused, clearly thinking her words over, before adding; “Steve, Jonathan, and I used to practice.”

Nancy stopped again, this time blatantly waiting for one of them to say something.

She got more stares in return.

“Given that things sound a little open ended, and that there were injuries, I thought it might be good to start up again. Steve suggested if we do, you all should come too.” She finished, bulldozing right through her own awkwardness.

“Practice what?” Grant asked, confused and trying to cover it with suspicion.

“Defensive measures.” Nancy answered.

Seeing their unchanged blank stares, she gathered her books in one arm, formed a finger gun with her free hand, and mimed shooting in such a deadpan manner that Gareth almost burst into disbelieving laughter.

While he was haunted by visions of Nancy Wheeler holding a gun, Tiff loudly picked her pen back up, making enough noise that all eyes went to her.

“You beat my score on Mrs. Click’s practice test by two points.”

“Uh--yes?” Nancy said, blinking at her.

Tiff's eyes narrowed. “I’m kicking your ass on the final.”

Another dumbfounded blink.

“Okay?”

“Tiff’s coping, as are we--no…defensive measures necessary.” Jeff said, in a desperate bid to soothe things over, “We appreciate the offer.”

She nodded, seemingly placated by his response. “Actually, where is Steve? I wanted to talk to him too.” Nancy asked, changing topics with ease. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Ah-ha.” Tiff muttered under her breath, as if catching out what Nancy really wanted.

Stewart kicked her ankle.

“He’s with Eddie.” Grant said, covering the sound of their resulting scuffle.

“He’s been spending a lot of time with Eddie lately.” Nancy noted, in that same neutral tone the Feds spoke in. All fake nice without giving a single thing away.

It was a little terrifying.

“We all spend a lot of time with each other.” Tiffany shot back, hackles very much raised and not bothering to hide it. “We’re friends. That’s what friends do.”

“Man, we are vicious today!”

“She’s really sore about that grade.” Stewart covered, offering a sympathetic pat to Tiffany’s shoulder (who looked an awful lot like she was going to bite his hand for it).

Did Nancy Wheeler even know about the weird academic rivalry Tiff had with her? Gareth took one look at Tiff’s gritted teeth, and thought better of it.

“I wouldn't be if I was able to properly finish that essay,” Tiff motioned to the now hopelessly crumpled paper underneath her pen, “ instead of rushing it because I had to pull someone out of a lab--”

“Nancy’s right.” Jeff cut in, in another desperate attempt to distract them all from eating each other. “I haven't seen much of Steve or Eddie today.”

He turned expectantly to his right. “Gary?”

Gareth frowned back at him.

“Why would I know where they are?”

“Oh,” Stewart said, far too innocently. “You haven’t realized you’re their assigned zookeeper?”

Wadding up his napkin was second nature. So was launching it at his friend's head, who expertly (and unfortunately) dodged.

“So you’re saying you don’t know?” Grant asked, a smile creeping across his face.

Gareth opened his jacket, fishing around for a moment as if he was searching for something, before pulling his hand back to show off his extended middle finger.

Pity he actually had the answer.

“They’re in the drama room. Steve sweettalked Mr. Barns into letting them set up early for Hellfire’s game.” He grumbled, ruining the entire effect.

“See?” Stewart said smugly.

With deliberate slowness, Gareth raised up his other middle finger before waving them both in a circle.

“Fuck you, fuck you--”

“Not in your lifetime.” Tiffany answered, to multiple chortles.

“Don’t bother them, Wheeler.” Gareth continued, ignoring the assholes he called friends to turn back to Nancy. “They’re setting up for the Hellfire’s last game of the year and Ed’s is a little…obsessive about it.”

As in he was known to be a complete and utter terror in the days leading up to his grand finales but Gareth wasn’t telling her that.

These games were a big deal for Hellfire as a whole. Precious things they looked forward to and the finale game was something they often worked several months, if not a solid year, to reach.

This year's game had more riding on it than any one prior. Hellfire’s shared sanity, for example, and a shining piece of normality they all found themselves desperately needing.

(Plus the problem of Eddie flunking again--and not telling anyone.

See--Eddie had been touchy the first time he hadn’t graduated and even with the appearance of monsters and government lackeys, Gareth expected this year to be even worse--but the Steve of it all added a rather explosive emotional element.

“You still have most of Hellfire.” Gareth had pointed out, when he’d hitched a ride home a few days prior and found the paper declaring Eddie’s super senior year a lost cause. “You know you’ll still have them after they graduate too, right?”

“Because they’re going to be looking forward to their old pal Eddie while in college, sure.” Had been the clipped response.

“They will.” Gareth said, with a level of assurance he hoped Eddie could feel. “And if that’s the concern, then you’ll definitely still have Steve.”

Who hadn’t gotten into college, and openly admitted to refusing to try now that monsters were back.

“I guess.” Eddie had said, looking like a deflated party balloon.

In typical Munson fashion, he seemed to realize he was giving away more “real feelings” than he’d intended too, and changed the subject with an energy that Gareth knew was fake.

He hadn’t called him out on it though, and equally, he had not called out the mania Eddie had slowly been succumbing to since that fateful day. He’d get over it--Gareth knew he’d get over it--if they could just make it past the point where Eddie’s own brain informed him the world was ending to prove it.)

All of them deserved a break, and a place to put aside all the stupid shit and simply have a good time, and heading off Steve’s nosey ex-girlfriend before she could cause problems would go a long way to help.

“I’m sure they can spare two minutes.” Nancy was saying, mid creation of the exact problem Gareth was hoping to avoid.

“No--uh,” He flailed about for a reason she couldn’t, and the longer she frowned at him the more his brain simply vanished all forms of higher thought. “Don’t?”

Nancy’s expression soured, mouth twisting in a line Gareth very much did not like. “I’m sure they--”

“Tell us what other things you practice. Besides, you know. The pews.” He interrupted frantically.

Under the table his foot struck out, and though he had no idea who he’d struck he hoped whoever it was understood what exactly he was trying to do.

“The pews?” Nancy echoed, after a painfully long moment.

“You know? Pews!” Gareth mimed a gun, and then made “pew” noises while firing it.

Besides him, Jeff gave a very Harrington-like sigh.

(He’d been doing that a lot lately, Gareth made a mental note to mock him for it.)

“You cannot tell me you guys only practice with guns.” Tiffany huffed. She had not been the kicked party, but thankfully, hadn’t needed the nudge to catch on. “What happens if you run out of bullets?”

Nancy gave her an odd, almost calculating look.

“We use whatever else we have on hand.” She said flatly.

Which just boded so fucking well for the rest of this conversation (and Gareth’s life, given he was uncomfortably aware of the things that went bump in the night.)

“Well, give us an example.” Tiff continued, and given the now increasingly concerned looks that the rest of Hellfire was darting between her and Nancy, Gareth knew the rest of his idiots hadn’t caught on.

On a piece of paper he scrawled--and the underlined twice, for good measure;

‘Go. Find. Byers!’

--and then chucked it at Grant’s head. Who thankfully opened it, even if he made a face while doing so, before proceeding to pass the note around as Tiff and Nancy traded increasingly pointed words about weapons training.

“When you’re in a situation, you use whatever you have on hand. I would assume you knew this, given what I heard happened the other day.”

“Yes, but wouldn’t it make more sense to train and carry with backup weapons rather than just hoping you find something on the way? What if the--what if we’d been in the woods?”

Gareth watched the note travel from person to person, until it was dropped back in front of him.

‘You go find him.’ Someone had scrawled, followed by multitudes of doodles, two of which featured army-hat wearing dicks driving tanks.

Then and there, he decided that perhaps his friends truly did deserve death should a similar situation arise in the future.

Useless. They were all useless.

“You’re welcome to make a suggestion, Tiffany.”

“I will. I’ll make a list even.”

“Good.” Nancy smiled, with all her teeth.

“Fine.” Tiff returned, looking half feral.

Was this some type of weird mating ritual between academic types? God, they were scary.

‘Well, that definitely won’t come back to bite us in the ass.’ Gareth thought wryly as Nancy stormed off in the opposite direction of the drama room, tapping the note against the table. He glanced at the rest of the group, who appeared to be attempting to tempt Tiff out of her snit by way of asking her what dramatic bullshit she thought Eddie would be pulling in the finale.

If nothing else, he decided, they’d prevented ruining Eddie’s day--and possibly, their entire night.

Nothing, save more fucking monsters or equally evil government lackeys could manage that.

(Pity that Gareth had forgotten the third most powerful force on the planet when it came to wrecking plans.

Middle schoolers.)

xXx

The day had dragged but they'd made it, and Eddie in turn, had made that wait worth their while.

The lights in the drama room were low.

The entire table had been set up with such care and drama that Gareth almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Goblets lined both sides, each filled with a dark red liquid Gareth knew damn well could not be wine.

Candles--real ones, had been lit, casting shadows across Eddie’s face as he lounged in his throne, a master in their element.

A castle, meticulously crafted out of wooden sticks and painted a dark, forbidding gray towered in front of Eddie down at the end, with the layout of the insides crawling down the table atop carefully gridded paper.

Monstrous figurines stood in a row off to the side, like little soldiers, planted right in front of a plain, if not comically large, cardboard box.

It was elaborate, meticulous, and half the items had clearly been stolen from Steve’s house, if not outright decorated by the man’s own hand.

“Welcome, my friends.” Eddie purred, breaking the spell that had fallen over Hellfire.

“Oh my God.” Grant breathed, jostling Gareth’s shoulder as he pushed inside.

“Dude, you outdid yourself!” Stewart added, voice awed as he took it all in.

“He had help.” Steve confirmed, materializing at Eddie’s shoulder. He leaned forward, adjusting something in front of Eddie, ignoring the immediate angry swat and hissed warnings about “ruining the moment, Steven!”

“Glad to see you putting your mom’s party planning skills to good use.” Jeff teased, but no one missed the way he ran a hand down the table, staring giddily at the spread.

Steve gave him a shrug, but even in the dim light Gareth could see how pleased he looked.

It was magical, and Gareth felt something come alive in his chest that he’d privately thought the manticore had killed.

A childish sort of excitement, bubbling up as he realized he was about to have a damn fine time.

This, of course, is when the actual children came in.

“I made a timeline.” Dustin announced, shouldering his way in between Jeff and Grant to slam down a massive piece of paper.

“Oh my God where did you come from!?” Stewart yelped, started as more and more children suddenly swarmed Hellfire’s table.

“The middle school is literally next door. We walked.” Max rolled her eyes as she took a seat next to Tiffany. “What idiot let you guys light candles in here?”

El fell in right next to her, stealing what was clearly intended to be Grant’s chair.

Who looked like he’s about to say something about it until he caught sight of her delighted face.

Gareth would have laughed at the obvious way Grant’s shoulders slumped as he accepted his fate, if his own chair hadn’t just been usurped by Michael Wheeler.

“A timeline?” Steve asked, before Eddie could surge to his feet and kick the brats out.

(They all watched him jerk anyway, like he’d intended to do just that and barely caught himself.)

“Uh, everything?” Dustin scoffed, waving a beat up folder in the air. “We took it all the way back to when we first met El.”

Next to him, Lucas had stepped up to the table, running a hand down it in much the same way Jeff had. “We decided it might help us figure out where the manticore came from.” He said absently.

A riot of emotion exploded over Steve’s face, made all the funnier by the fact that it was entirely at odds with the setup he’d so lovingly created.

“I’m sorry, did we not hear the Chief of Police? He’s investigating this, our involvement is over.” Steve made a slashing motion with his hand, as if that would hold them all off.

(Gareth, who once watched all of these children fight each other over an arcade score for three consecutive days, knew it was a lost cause.)

Dustin made yet another scoffing sound in return.

Given how often he seemed to make them, Gareth wondered if he had problems with a sore throat.

“I thought we all widely agreed Hop’s investigation skills are terrible.”

“Hello?” Stewart said irritably. “We were about to get started?”

Eddie swung himself into a sitting position and made like he was going to stand up, likely to pounce on the opening Stewart had just given.

Pity Steve once again, beat him there.

“Yes, but he’s not investigating, is he? We,” Hellfire’s jock made another motion, this one a circular twirl of the hand. Gareth was starting to wonder if the gestures are directly linked to his stress level. “already did that part. He can now do the part he’s good at, which is fixing it.”

“He’s not good at fixing it, look at what happened with the demodogs!”

It was at this moment Gareth made his fatal mistake. In hindsight, he should have known better than to ask out loud,

“Okay, can someone please explain what the hell’s a demodog?”

Several protests, groans, and pencils are flung his way for it.

(“Do you know how often that word has been thrown around!?” He’d defend much, much later. “You guys keep saying it but not what they are!”

“If you stopped eavesdropping all the time maybe you wouldn’t be wondering about such things.” Eddie had responded snidely.

“It’s not my fault you keep talking about this shit when I’m right there you asshat--”)

“What, you didn’t think there were actually feral dogs in Hawkins did you?” One of the kids asks incredulously, like he can’t possibly believe anyone is so stupid as to buy into it.

“They were like the manticore, but small and more, well, doggish.” Dustin dismissed, this time with a Harrington flavored hand waive of his own. “Ask Steve, he was there.”

Gareth turned to do just that, D&D campaign be damned (He would not apologize for wanting to know what else might be out to kill them all even if the finale was technically on, sue him) to find Steve had slipped right into mother hen mode.

“No.” He spat, charging forward as he flapped his arms around, like the children are a flock of birds he can scare away. “You are not sucking anyone into this, and we are not getting involved! You heard Hop!”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a coward, Steve.”

“I’m not a coward, I’m someone who doesn’t need another near death experience! There’s not a reward if you have five in a row, dickheads.”

Seething and not bothering to hide it, Eddie picked up the massive gold goblet in front of him and took an obnoxiously loud sip out of it.

“I’m also going to remind you that Henderson here,” Steve stopped behind Dustin to rattle his, “is going to camp in a few days? I believe the rest of you also have similar engagements.”

It was Mike’s turn to scoff.

“Lucas is only in summer school until 3 and camp doesn’t start for another two weeks. We have plenty of time!”

“It’s not summer school,” Lucas protested, eyes darting to Max and back as if she wasn’t aware the kid was a nerd. “It’s a creative writing program--”

“Yeah, well, the rest of us are busy.” Steve fired back. “So any theories you have, you can take and shove right up your ass.”

“Why is it always the ass with you Steve? Do you have an ass fixation?”

Gareth watched as Eddie immediately choked on the dyed Mountain Dew he had been chugging down, hacking so hard tears welled in his eyes.

Jeff shared a pained look with Gareth over the table as Grant pounded him on the back.

“I do not have an ass fixation, Henderson--”

“Okay.” Tiffany clapped her hands together, the sound ringing out throughout the drama room.

“Here’s the deal. Summer break is two days away. Steve is right--most of us here are working, if not preparing to go to college. No one needs to go snooping around where we aren’t wanted, and we definitely do not need anymore injuries. Kapeesh?”

Henderson immediately turned on her. “So we’re just gonna trust the guys who fucking started all this!?”

“Given they also have better ways of handling it, yes. We are. Hopper told them about Stewarts goo, they sent some suits in to kill the manticore, and thanks to El’s heads up we caught things ahead of time for once. Can’t we just enjoy that?” Steve was beyond worked up now, repeatedly running his hands through his hair, only to fix it, pick at it, and then repeat the process again. “For fucks sake Dustin, Eddie just stopped limping!”

“I don’t think it’s over.” Mike muttered angrily, pushing a finger against Tiffany’s water bottle.

She grabbed it before it toppled over, glaring at him.

“El, do you feel anything?” Steve spoke like he was invoking a god and not an undersocialized twelve year old.

“No.” She admitted, after a long almost uncomfortable pause. “I do not.”

Steve pointed at her victoriously. “There you go!”

“But--”

“No more buts!” Steve shrieked, before seemingly to realize he’d done so. He coughed, and then said; “I thought you dorks would be storming in here trying to get Eddie to DM for you, not harassing us about the Upside Down.”

“You guys are playing D&D?” Lucas asked, as if he hadn’t been salivating over the spread for the last five minutes.

“I really like your cleric.” Will said quietly to Jeff, having leaned over to look at his character sheet at some point during the argument.

“Will, aren’t you a Dungeon Boss?” Steve asked, to the horror of those around him. “Why don’t you go sit by Eddie, I’m sure you’d enjoy seeing how he does stuff.”

A wince rippled through the members of Hellfire.

There was simply no way Eddie Munson, a man known to be possessive at best, would ever allow any of them to even glance at his notebook, let alone his entire spread laid bare behind his screen.

Those were his secrets--the result of too many late nights and an easy contributor to his failing high school yet again--and this was the grand finale.

Steve sitting next to Eddie had been miraculous enough--and that was with Eddie actively demanding he sit there, in a vain attempt to drag Steve out of his issues.

Fearing the worst, Gareth snuck a glance at their glorious--and notoriously ridiculous--leader.

Eddie sucked on his teeth, the noise painfully loud in the abrupt silence, eyes on Byers the Younger before they drifted back to Steve.

Who clearly had no idea he’d put his foot in it.

Tiff looked ready to break a pencil, eyes glaring a hole in Eddie’s head as if daring him to disappoint the group's golden retriever while Grant, Jeff and Stewart had all magically found something else to look at.

Gareth himself hunkered down, waiting to see how this would play out.

One more painful, pulsing second and then Eddie seemed to come to a decision, rolling out his hand and gesturing Will closer.

“Indeed Baby Byers,” He dropped into one of his many DM voices, something deep but alluring. “come closer and learn from the master of masters. Perhaps you’ll find something here to take back to your own campaigns. Something truly…terrible.”

He waggled his eyebrows at Dustin as Will’s Party groaned, though none of them put up much of a fuss once they saw the sheer smile that overtook Will’s face.

With the unique combination of embarrassment and pride, Will took his place next to Eddie.

Steve beamed in the corner, clearly pleased with himself and it was not lost on Gareth (or anyone else in the know) that Eddie preened only after sneaking an obvious look at Steve’s face.

“God he has it bad.” Stewart muttered, only to hiss when Jeff not so subtly jabbed him with a pen.

Gareth just shook his head, and gave Eddie a grin that said he would absolutely be getting shit for this later.

“Stevie, be a dear and fetch more chairs would you?” Eddie drawled, as he settled back into his throne, baby Byers happily checking out the items he had laid out behind his DM screen.

Which Gareth supposed was Steve’s punishment for inviting the kids along, but then, Eddie may as well have been bossing the jock around all day regardless given the look of the place.

(He’d certainly taken advantage of doing just that while his leg had been healing.)

That was their mess though, and Gareth happily put all thoughts of monsters, murder, men in black and every other awful M word aside to inside pull out his luckiest D20 die.

“Hellfire,” Eddie boomed as the all finally settled, “It's time to show the kiddies how it's done. Let’s roll!”

“And Dustin bitches at me for my puns.” Steve loudly complained as he came back into the room with chairs.

Eddie shushed him again.

[barrel-of-bones-and-brain-worms]

I have to reblog this again because the only asks I've been getting are donation asks.

I'm not a minor but I have no money to give. I would if I could but I have practically nothing to my name. All I feel is crushing guilt when I get these. I don't have enough followers to spread this information and I know some of the few followers I have are minors and I'm sure at least the other half do not have the means to donate either.

I'm not comfortable with these asks and they just hurt my mental health that I struggle with normally. I can not help you. I can not donate. I'll occasionally reblog the mass donation links from other blogs but I can't do more than that. I can admit I can't really tell the difference between a scam and something legitimate.

I support Palestine and everyone who is struggling with one thing or another but I can't help you. If I had something to give I would but I am physically incapable and so are most of my small following. Please stop asking me.

Please do not send me asks for donations

Here's why:

I have NO money to give you

I'm not a popular enough blog that I will give you any reach

I am a minor, and most of my followers are too

It makes me feel extremely guilty

Seeing pictures of injuries or hospitals etc are triggering for me (which are in most intro posts for this sort of thing)

They are always worded in a way that makes me feel like I am a murderer if I don't donate

It makes me feel uncomfortable

I said I don't want them, and my boundaries should be respected

I can't tell what is a bot and what isn't

I get a lot of spam from this. It is disappointing to see 10 new asks in my inbox just to be the same ask for donations over and over

Please, just respect the fact that I have said this.

Edit: To all the people reblogging this, I'm sorry you have had to deal with this too. And yes, you can put this in your pinned post! Stay safe <3

[ravnervn]

Okay fuck it. I need to exorcise this from my brain. This has haunted me for 2 or 3 years since I saw this film by chance, so I am going to, as best I recall, recap the plot. And then at the end I will say what it is so you can understand why it haunts me. I will say off the bat that you might read this ramble and go "huh this sounds good actually" and it is not. It is not a good movie.

So the film is framed as a story being told to someone -- we're not quite sure whether it's meant to be taken literally or allegorically but the ending and some other details IMPLY it's actually true.

So there's our narrator, who is an average mortal guy living a happy life. And then there's our second protagonist and actual main character, a celestial bureaucrat whose order's numbers are drawn entirely from those who have been denied a chance at a normal happy life. Whilst they can forsake their status to become mortal, as far as the bureaucrat and his peers are concerned, they are happy and performing a valuable service to reality. Our MC has been sent to Earth to investigate a threat to his organisation, and to do so he has infiltrated the narrator's life, seemingly metaphysically convincing everyone that he is the narrator's brother -- except the narrator, who sees through him and ends up convinced to help our MC as it's mutually beneficial; once the mission is done, the narrator's life returns to normal and the MC returns to his role.

So what's happening is that a rival organisation to the MC's has started up and is diverting... Okay so you can see the obvious parallels here and "worship" would fit, but I'll use the film's term of "love" because it's thematically coherent. Anyway, this organisation has a big scheme they're going to hatch to divert all love away from the Rightful Celestial Bureaucracy, and it's up to our protagonists to stop them.

See, the thing going on here is that love is finite. If someone only has one thing to love, they'll love it wholly, but if they have two things to love, that divides the love in two and so on. If they find something they love more than the original object of affection, it could fully supplant it, and that's the crux of the villain's plan.

Because the villain is a fallen celestial bureaucrat who lost his ability to hold onto his celestial form and was forced to become mortal. His plan for revenge is to supplant the love people have for his former order with love for a false idol, thus destroying the whole celestial bureaucracy. The fact this is considered a legitimate and real threat by the celestial bureaucracy implies that this is, metaphysically, how this works. Even if we take this story allegorically, the allegory still has the basis "love is a finite resource and you learn to make do".

Obviously our heroes defeat him, and obviously during this time they've genuinely bonded and decided that maybe having this guy as a brother/maybe having a loving family as a mortal is okay actually. So our celestial bureaucrat becomes a mortal and this whole story becomes just a funny whimsical reframing of the brothers' childhood.

Yes, childhood. Because here is where I unbury the lede and reveal that the villain is the CEO of PuppyCorp, whose plan is to give everyone a free puppy so that they'll love babies less, because the celestial bureaucracy is BabyCorp.

The movie I have just described to you is Boss Baby. I am being deadly fucking serious.

[lou-struck]

For Little You

Keigo Takami x reader

W.C: 1.9k

~ For the first time in his life, Keigo gets to feel like a kid in a candy store. 

"Are you sureeee you don't wanna split this soft pretzel with me?" Keigo asks with a teasing smile as he holds out the last little piece of the snack he got when you first got to the mall. Outings like this, where the two of you can walk hand in hand, going about your day as if you were normal civilians, are rare. Usually, you would've been stopped by Keigo's numerous fans due to his eye-catchingly glorious red wings, but thanks to a nasty run-in with a villain, he has only a few feathers hidden under his jacket. 

"Nope, that's all you," you say. All he had been talking about leading up to your mall expedition was getting his hands on a soft pretzel. 

"Suit yourself." he humms tossing the last piece of the pastry into his mouth. Now, with his hands free, they sneak through the open space to latch onto yours as you continue walking. A soft smile on his face as you continue having a peaceful day off. 

"Hey, what's that place over there? "you point at the giant teal and gold striped columns of a shop you certainly haven't seen before.

"Isn't that where the exotic rock shop was?"  He comments, taking a sip from the thick straw of his bubble tea. "What was it called? Something like Rocks and Roads?"

"Your guess is better than mine, I never went in there," you say. "Did you ever go in there?" 

"I have a few times, "he admits with a chuckle. "One of the sidekicks who worked at my agency a few years back was able to eat rocks and crystals and things like that and make armor out of it. So I got them for a Secret Santa year and got them a really cool one."

"Oh, are you talking about Rock Muncher?" you say, enthusiastically recalling the Geo Hero. "Whatever happened to her?"

"Got a new cushy job overseas and transferred, but I heard she is doing really well over there." 

"Wow, that's great." you smile as you get a closer look at the new store. "It looks like they replaced the Rock store with a candy store."

"A candy store?" Keigo parrots, his eyes lighting up at the prospect. As much as he tries to hide it, Keigo has a wicked sweet tooth, one that he rarely has the chance to indulge in due to his strict upbringing at the hands of the hero's commission.

"Wanna check it out?" you ask hopefully; you could definitely have a sweet treat right about now, and judging by the way Keigo's eyes scan the decorative gummy bear statue in the shop's window, he is too.

"Am I that transparent?" he chuckles as you tug on his hand, guiding him into what many people call heaven.

The smell of chocolate wraps around you in a loving embrace as you step into the warmly lit store.  Large plastic containers of different types of sweets line the shop's walls like wallpaper. "Wow, I have never seen so many different types of candy before." You exclaim, fascinated by the variety.

"I-it's unreal," Keigo says, a slight waiver of a motion in his tone; you turn to look at him but are unable to catch his eye. His gaze fixated on a mother and her child picking out sweets from the largest display case by the cash register.

"What ones do you think we should bring home?" the mother asks her starry-eyed child.

"All of them…" they murmur dazedly, unable to stare at any one treat for too long. Although their interaction is cute, there is a distant look of sorrow in your boyfriend's eyes, and you realize that this may be a new experience for him.

Keigo never had the kind of childhood that most children had, even before he started training under the hero commission. You have a feeling that he never got the opportunity to pick out treats at the candy store. 

"Maybe we should get a few things," you say giving his hand a squeeze to let you know that you are still with him and those bad memories are things of the past.

"We should?"

"Yes. for uhhh quality control," you say jokingly. "It's our responsibility to test out some of the products and make sure nothing is poisonous."

"Can't argue with that logic," he laughs, grabbing two large baskets and handing one to you. "Let's go crazy then."

"You don't have to tell me twice," you laugh, your hands tingle in anticipation as you wonder which mouthwatering corner of the shop you should start filling your basket in. 

~

You aren't sure when you lost Keigo among the sugary aisles, but you first noticed his absence when you found a large gummy snake; you held it up like a goofball and turned to show him, only to realize that he was no longer following behind you. 

Knowing he would never just abandon you, you continue your browsing, becoming fascinated by just how many types of candy exist in the world. 

Some treats you remember vaguely from your childhood, but the wrapping has changed a bit over the years, and some seem to be from completely different countries.  But where they come from doesn't matter; they all find their way into your basket.

The weight of your basket grows heavier by the second, but that doesn't deter you from wandering through the store aimlessly. The smell of freshly made fudge hits the back of your throat, and you make a mental note to consider flossing your teeth when you get home. 

At an endcap across from the drink fridge, you stumble across a brightly colored display of chocolate bars; each one is wrapped in a different colored wrapping; upon closer inspection, you realize that all the different colors are used to represent the wide variety of flavors. 

Minty green for Chocolate Chip Mint.

Purple for Ube. 

Gold for Fried Chicken

Black for Dark Chocolate Raspberry…

You pause and slowly backtrack. To get a closer look at the golden wrapping of the Fried Chicken flavored milk chocolate bar. 

'How does that even work?' you murmur to yourself. 'Was the chocolate mixed with chicken broth or something?"

You curiously pick up the packaging just to see what exactly is in the chocolate to make it chicken flavored and can't find anything. 

An unnerving shiver shoots down your spine as you set the bar down in favor of some candy that does not represent a dinner entree. 

The next thing you know, your basket has miraculously filled with not only your favorite sweets but tons of things you want to try out, as well as some things that you know Keigo likes. 

Holding the full basket is painful and you have to put all your focus on not dropping it to the floor. A bead of sweat drips down your brow as you trudge over to the cash register, only to accidentally bump into someone. Apologies are already flying off your tongue as you lock eyes with Keigo. 

His is even more full than yours is. A big smile is on his face as he takes in both you and your basket. He must've really needed this sugary retail therapy, and although you know that no amount of money can undo the pitfalls of his childhood, getting to share these sweet, special moments with you is more than worth it.

"It looks like we did some damage," he says, taking your too-heavy basket from you with ease. You smile at him gratefully and look down at your stinging,  slightly indented palms. 

"We sure did. But do you think we have enough?" you tease as Keigo sets both containers on the countertop with a thud. 

"Barely, but I think we will manage." he grins, taking out his credit card and handing it to the cashier, who is looking at Keigo suspiciously. You have to hold in a laugh; it's the same look of muddled recognition he gets while in public without his big red wings. Apparently, most people can't seem to put their finger on what about him is so familiar without them. 

After paying way too much for basically a year's supply of candy, the two of you drag your enormous, triple-lined shopping bags out the doors and into the bustling mall.

You do well for a while but once you reach a less busy area of the mall, you become aware of just how heavy your load is.  Your muscles ache as you try to keep up with Keigo's chipper steps. And you have to stop to readjust your hold.

When he notices that you are no longer walking alongside him, he pauses and turns back to look at you confusedly. "What's the matter Angel? Is your bag too heavy for you?"

You look at the four bags he is carrying and then back at the one he gave you. "No." You lie casually, setting the bag on a wooden bench for support. "I was just thinking that we should each try something before we get home."

"To lighten the load?" he teases, joining you over on the bench. 

"Fine, maybe the bags are a little heavy." you relent, "but I still want to try something."

"Works for me. There is something I really want to test out." he laughs, reaching across your lap and digging into the bag you have been hauling. He pulls out a familiar-looking paper-wrapped chocolate bar, and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. 

"Really Kei? Out of everything we just bought from freaking candy palooza, you choose the Fried Chicken chocolate bar?"

"I sure did," he grins, unwrapping the chocolate right in front of you. "C'm on. Aren't you at least a little curious about what it would taste like?

"Curious, yes. But I'd rather eat something that tastes like fruit, not poultry," you comment, selecting some sour cherry gummies from your bag instead. 

"More for me then," he laughs, holding out his bar towards you; now unwrapped, your nose picks up the slight aroma of chicken and honey flavorings. "Cheers."

You bump his chocolate bar with your little candy packet and take a bite. The sweet, sour taste of the gummy explodes over your tongue and crackles pleasantly against your taste buds. The addicting taste has you immediately reaching for another coin-sized gummy. 

You notice Keigo has fallen silent and you look over to him. His expression is unreadable as he stares down at his chocolate bar with a furrowed brow.

"What's the matter, Kei?" you ask. "Does it taste bad?"

"No, it's just interesting," he says back finally. "I think I like it."

You are dumbfounded, shook, stunned.  "You do?"

"Yeah, want to try a little bit?" he waves the bar in front of you again, and you catch a glimpse of little golden specks in the chocolate. 

"Fine, just a little piece," you say, reaching for the bar. 

"Ah ah ah," he pulls the bar away and presses his lips to yours. The taste of honey, and savory chocolate still dancing on his lips as he kisses you. 

After indulging in your oxygen like its candy, he pulls away and gives you a coy little grin. "Now that wasn't so bad, now was it y/n."

"Hmmm, I don't know," you respond, your lips curving up into a syrupy sweet little smirk. I think I'll need to have another taste just to be sure."

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @sleepyyshroom @isaacdaknight @qardasngan @dog55teeth @atigerandabear @anjodedesgostoeerros

[allthingsfangirl101]

Not Hangman To Her – Jake "Hangman" Seresin

"We are about to embark on an emergency rescue mission," Maverick said. Instantly, all of the pilots straightened up as he continued. "The U.S.S. Reynolds set off three days ago. Their mission was supposed to be simple but it took a bad turn. After a dogfight, three out of their four pilots were killed."

"What about the fourth?" Rooster asked.

"She's MIA," Maverick sighed. "We are close to her last known coordinates. We've been asked to complete a search and rescue."

"Who's the pilot?" Phoenix asked.

"Her name is Lieutenant Y/F/N Y/L/N."

Hangman's heart jumped into his throat when Maverick put the pilot's picture on the screen. His mind raced as his eyes and thoughts were glued to the girl he met in training.

Y/N? There's no way she would be mixed up in all this. She's the best pilot. Whatever happened was not pilot error. Y/N didn't do anything to put her in this position. She's too. . . perfect to make a mistake that would cost her her life or the lives of her team.

"Hangman."

Hangman jumped when Rooster walked by, kicking his shoe. "You good?"

"I'm fine," Hangman said, clearing his throat.

"You sure?" Payback scoffed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Do you know someone on the U.S.S. Reynolds?" Phoenix asked.

"No," he said a little too quickly. "Why would I know anyone on the U.S.S. Reynolds?"

Before his team could tell he was lying, he left the room. He went back to his bunk and slammed the door shut behind him. Hangman frantically searched through his stuff, and at the very bottom, finally found the picture of him and Y/N in training.

~ • ~

"Keep up, Seresin!" Y/N laughed as she ran ahead of me.

As fast as I pumped my legs, I could never outrun Y/N. Then again, I didn't try to. I couldn't help but like the feeling I got when she bragged about being the better pilot. I loved how happy she got as she excitedly jumped around after beating me. I liked that it made her so happy.

"I win again!" Y/N giggled as she jumped and spun around. "Say it. Say that I am faster than you, Seresin. Say it. Say it. Say it."

I pretended to be angry as she jogged around me and chanted for me to say it. I didn't mind saying it but she expected me to push back, so I did.

"If I say it, will you stop circling me?"

Y/N stopped right in front of me. She smiled cheekily at me as she bounced on her toes. "Did you have something to say to me, Seresin?"

"You are the faster runner, Y/L/N," I recited just for her. "You're better than me."

"And don't you forget it!" She giggled as she went back to jumping up and down. Suddenly, her ankle gave out. I instantly caught her and pulled her close to my chest.

"You okay?" I asked, my voice soft.

"I think so," she said slowly.

"Are you sure?" I asked, starting to panic. "Maybe I should take a look at it. Here, sit down and I will. . ."

"I'm fine, Jake," Y/N chuckled as she patted my shoulder.

She turned away from me and stretched her legs as I overthought the last 2 minutes. The thought of Y/N in pain made me want to do anything I could to make sure she wasn't in it anymore.

I'd do anything to make sure Y/N was happy, healthy, and safe.

~ • ~

Hangman snapped out of the memory, his hands shaking as he held the picture. The idea that Y/N was out there somewhere, lost and alone, filled him with more fear than he knew what to do with.

"She's okay," he mumbled to himself. "She's safe. We are going to find her. We are going to find her. I will find you, Y/N, I promise."

* * * * *

The next few hours went by in a blur for Hangman. The ship changed course toward Y/N's last known location. When they got there, Hangman and a few others took off in their planes and began searching the water for any sign of Y/N or her plane.

As he searched, all Hangman could do was think of the worst-case scenarios.

What if they're looking in the wrong area? What if they find her plan but not her? What if they find her but it's too late? What if they find her and get her back to the ship, but can't save her? What if he never finds her? What if he loses her? What if he loses her before he gets a chance to tell her how he feels?

"We got her!" Rooster yelled, pulling Hangman out of his spiral.

"Well, we got pieces of her plane," Payback sighed.

Hangman quickly turned around and flew to them. He started searching the sea for any sign of the girl he was crazy about. Finally, his eyes landed on something that instantly burned into his brain - Y/N unconscious on a piece of her plane.

"I got her," he said, his voice not nearly loud enough. He cleared his throat and tried again but louder this time. "She's over here!"

"Maverick, we got her! We need a search and rescue party now!"

"Stay there," Maverick instructed through their headsets. "We're sending one to your coordinates now."

Hangman didn't move his plane an inch. Instead, he stayed right where he was and kept a close eye on Y/N's unconscious body. He wanted nothing more than to dive into that water and swim to her. Instead, he hovered close enough to keep an eye on her as the ship sent a medical boat to their location. Hangman watched as the divers pulled her out of the water and safely onto the boat.

Once they had her, Hangman sped back to the ship. He landed and instantly jumped out of his plane and ran as fast as he could to the infirmary. When he got there, they were just bringing her in.

"Y/N?" Hangman panicked. His heart jumped into his throat when he caught a glimpse of her unconscious and pale body.

"Woah, stop," Maverick said as he grabbed Hangman before he could run into the exam room. "The doctors have her. They will do whatever they can to help her."

Hangman looked behind Maverick to see the exam doors close, separating him from the girl of his dreams.

"They will come get us as soon as they have any news about Lieutenant Y/L/N's status," he said with a knowing look in his eyes. Maverick wasn't sure how Hangman and Y/N were connected, but one look at the worry in his eyes and Maverick knew there was something.

"I just want to. . . I wish there was. . ." Hangman stuttered. "I just want to help her, Mav."

"All we can do now is relax and wait," Maverick said gently. Maverick studied him briefly before finally asking, "How well do you know Lieutenant Y/L/N?"

"Y/N and I were in training camp together," Hangman sighed as he sat in a nearby chair. "Some guys in our group were giving her a hard time. I defended her and after that, we got close. We ran together, trained together, studied together. We did everything together until we got our orders to ship out. We were sent to different ships and. . . I haven't talked to her since she shipped out. I tried to keep track of her but. . ."

Maverick waited for him to continue, but Hangman got distracted by his memories. Maverick sat next to him and gently patted his shoulder. "The good news is we found her," Maverick tried to comfort him. "The doctor told me that he thinks we got to her just in time."

"That's good," Hangman said numbly, "I guess."

The rest of their team slowly trickled in as they waited. Two hours later, the doctor finally came out.

"How is she?" Hangman panicked as he jumped up and met the doctor.

"She's okay," the doctor reassured. "She's dehydrated, a little sunburned, and has a slight concussion from the crash. Honestly, she should be way worse. She's extremely lucky."

"So, she's going to be okay?" Hangman double-checked.

"She's going to be fine," he nodded. "All she needs is a couple of good nights' sleep and some healthy meals. She should be back on her feet in a few days. I would, however, recommend that she not return to her ship just yet."

"Why not?" Bob asked.

"Well," the doctor sighed, "if we send her back to her ship, they will most likely put her back in a plane. She may be physically alright, but we have no idea how she is mentally. And that's something we can't check or test until she wakes up."

"Thank you," Maverick said, shaking the doctor's hand before he went back to Y/N.

"Wait," Hangman said, jogging to catch up to the doctor. "Is there. . . I was just wondering. . . I know her and. . . I was hoping. . ."

"She's not awake," the doctor said gently, "but you can sit by her bed until she does."

Hangman took that invitation and instantly went into Y/N's room. When he saw her asleep in the bed, his heart broke. He numbly walked over and collapsed into the chair next to the bed. He scanned her, searching for any injuries. She had a pretty big gash on her forehead, pieces of glass were taken out of her face, and she had bruises across her chest from her harness.

With shaking hands, Hangman reached over and gently grabbed Y/N's hand. "I'm right here, Y/N," he whispered. "And I'm not going anywhere until you wake up."

* * * * *

Y/N was unconscious for the next 14 hours. Hangman stayed by her side the entire time. His crew tried to get him to leave, but he refused. He barely ate and didn't sleep as he waited for her to wake up. He was starting to fall asleep when he felt her hand tighten around his.

"Y/N?" He whispered.

"Jake?" Hangman instantly leaned forward when he heard her beautiful voice whisper his name. "What are we. . . I thought you were. . . Where am I?"

"It's okay," he instantly soothed. "What matters is that you're safe. What do you remember?"

"I don't know," she said, shakily. "It was supposed to be a simple mission. But. . . I was shot down."

Hangman tightened his grip on her hand and scooted closer to her. He watched, his heart breaking as she remembered what happened. When the tears started streaming down her face, he gently caught one with his thumb. He kept his hand on her face as he tried to comfort her.

"Y/N," he said gently, "everything's okay. You're safe, okay? We found you and we are going to take care of you."

"Jake?" Her voice broke. He moved his hand from her face and scooted closer to her.

"Yeah?"

"Were you the one that found me?"

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I just. . . My whole team was there."

"But you found me," she said, already knowing the answer. "Right?"

Hangman laughed awkwardly as he reached up and scratched the back of his neck.

"I knew it," she chuckled weakly. Hangman felt his face burn as she smiled at him.

"How'd you know?" He chuckled.

"I like to think I know you pretty well, Seresin."

Hangman smiled when he remembered why she never liked calling him Hangman. She actually hated his callsign. She always said it didn't fit him. And when it came to her, she was right. He'd never hang her out to dry.

"Because," she continued, "You always find me when I'm in trouble."

"I would've searched the entire ocean for you," Hangman mumbled. Y/N's face softened when she saw the seriousness in his eyes.

"Jack," she whispered as she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her. He didn't fight her as she pulled him down so he was lying next to her.

"I'm really glad you found me," she whispered, cuddling into his chest.

"Me too," he mumbled as he looked down and saw the exhaustion in her eyes. "I promise I won't let you out of my sight this time."

She let out a small giggle causing him to tighten his arms around her.

"I've really missed you, Seresin."

He looked at her and watched her eyes flutter closed. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I've really missed you too, Y/L/N."

[anna-mellgren]

I have been asked about my different experiences living in different countries a lot so I will share my thoughts here.

America: I partially grew up in the USA so I never experienced a proper culture shock in the USA because I was so young when we lived there the first time.  I just noticed the differences from Sweden instead. Americans are so friendly so any homesickness was always cushioned by that. I just accepted America for what it was but it is obviously a lot more conservative & religious than Sweden. Americans can be super friendly but sometimes that friendliness can be a little superficial… swedes are more reserved but more loyal instead when you get to know them well. Female athletics is more developed in the USA which I liked. I had a good school experience and probably had a more chill time than most people had in high school.

France: I only lived in Paris for 6 months and I mostly hung out with international students who were studying french so I am not sure I can give a super accurate opinion of france. I got to know a few french people through a friend and they were similar to swedes in a way… they are very liberal, they ride their mopeds, they like soccer, they have a healthy aversion towards religion, they are not huge fans of loud people etc. Parisians are very cosmopolitan people and I got on really well with the ones I got to know.  I know parisians have a reputation for being rude and they are rude to tourists lol but honestly, the amount of tourists in Paris is insane. Even I, as a foreigner, could get annoyed with them at times. I liked to run by the Seine river and tourists would try to stop me mid-run in order to take their pictures? Why couldn’t you find another tourist to do that for you when I am clearly running? I think the french are similar to swedes with being reserved but very kind and loyal once you get to know them. I think being reserved can sometimes come off as being rude if you don’t understand the culture.

Ireland: I think I suffered a big culture shock in Ireland. Before then I had a slightly naive/american view that european countries are more similar than they actually are? I think Ireland has to be one of the most extrovert countries in Europe while Sweden is probably the most reserved… so that is a clear cultural difference. I used to think americans could be chatty & loud but some irish people are like americans on steroids. Sweden is one of the most atheist countries while Ireland is one of the most religious countries in Europe. Sweden is probably the most liberal and Ireland is one of the most ~historically~ conservative countries in Europe. Ireland has become a lot more liberal recently but I think Sweden is farther ahead on certain things… especially when it comes to sexism & behavior between the sexes.

Ireland had a certain lad culture when I was there which was honestly a bit unhinged. I know there are bad apples in Sweden but I don’t think their bad behaviour is accepted in Sweden as it is in Ireland.  I think the lad culture at university is exacerbated by a lot of people going to catholic girls & boys schools while growing up so they don’t interact with each other as much as they do in mixed schools in sweden & the USA. It was like they didn’t know how to behave towards each other? The emotional intelligence just wasn’t there at times. The banter sometimes went too far and became bullying in my opinion. The way guys talked about girls really got on my nerves too…not about me specifically but just girls in general. I remember there was a girl in my course who slept with a guy and the stuff I saw written on social media and what was said in real life really shocked me. My one irish friend said it was just “banter” and I would say no… it was stone-cold misogyny/sexism. I would then be labeled as “someone who didn’t understand banter” but Ireland legalized divorce & decriminalized marital rape in the 1990s (which is actually insane) so to be honest I don’t think they have the upper hand when it comes to defining misogyny? Their humor is based on slagging each other off which is fine but I sometimes think people took it too far... I prefer swedish humor which is more based on self deprecation & is a bit similar to british humor.  I think I was not willing to adjust and that caused me problems but I think the school culture as a whole was more toxic compared to where I had lived before. I think I got a bit unlucky with a few people to be brutally honest and I don’t think my experience resembles Ireland as a whole but the culture was a bit harsh. I remember girls rating each other on social media with bitchy comments on their friends' pictures by writing “6/10”… people who were friends with each other? None of us look like Adriana Lima but why put each other down? Or make someone feel mediocre? Some girls were seriously vain and judgemental & I missed the strong feminist sisterhood I felt in Sweden or the sisterhood I felt in sports in America. To be clear, many irish girls were genuinely nice & perfectly fine human beings but a few definitely gave off the vibe that I belonged with my fellow foreigners in the course. Every time I kissed a guy there would be random guys taking pictures of me and post it god knows where? Guys I didn’t even know? Just to gossip or slutshame me for kissing someone? They did this to everyone, not just me.

People in my course made facebook groups and wrote mean things about people who were not in the groups… just things like that. I came from a super laid-back enviornment with very opened-minded people so I had a hard time adjusting to this harsher, sometimes hostile, environment. I don’t think I was a specific target but I didn’t feel comfortable there. One day I was walking down the street and a passing car threw eggs at me?  I have pretty good eyesight so I saw the ex-girlfriend of a guy I knew in the car…I think I got hit because I had kissed him a few months before. Stuff like this just doesn’t happen in Sweden. I lived in a smaller city and maybe I would've been happier in a more cosmopolitan place like Dublin. I think there are many great people in Ireland but I found the university culture to be very gossipy, mean, judgemental & cliquey. They all thought it was normal but it rubbed me the wrong way. Looking back I think some people were just immature and have probably changed a lot. To be fair, I never gave it a real shot because I was unhappy and struggling with autoimmune issues. Not all people were like this but when you find yourself in a place where you don’t know anyone and a few people treat you in a very bad way then it can have a big impact. I think people matured with the years and chilled out a bit to be fair but I never experienced it because I left. I have met many great irish people so in a way I just think I was unlucky and perhaps would’ve had a different experience if I stuck it out. Not all people were bad in my course either, the majority were perfectly fine people but I think initially the people who had lived in this city their entire life were unbothered with making friends or being friendly. I think they branched out later on. I think I had lived in a bubble before then and I had just never experienced anyone mean before? Which is probably a bit bizarre too, to be honest. My school experience before then was people being either nice to me or neutral… like I was just another human on planet earth.  In my honest opinion, I think some irish people are like Conor Mcgregor and truly embrace lad culture but there are also plenty of irish people who are salt of the earth and have the same aura as Cillian Murphy. I would even say the majority of irish people are like Cillian Murphy. I think Ireland has a unique culture, people are generally friendly despite my experience & the nature is beautiful. My mental health suffered that year and I moved home which was definitely the right decision for me. I should’ve been more social but I didn’t have the mental or physical strength with my anemia. I knew a norwegian girl in ireland who seemed to love everything about it and I always compared myself to her. I felt like a bit of a failure for feeling like I did until I met a danish girl who had a far worse experience than me in Ireland and it was a bit comforting to know I was not alone in how I felt. I think experiences are subjective & overall I learned a lot. I don’t dislike Ireland or irish people at all, to the contrary actually… I just didn’t have a great experience. In a way, I think moving home to Sweden was a long-time coming.  

Argentina: I think south americans in general are very welcoming and warm people. However- Argentina, like many other South American countries, have problems with corruption & crime etc but people are very loving. You will hopefully be fine if you just take some extra precautions but I think you have to be very mindful as a woman and be careful. Don’t get into taxis alone. Watch your drink on nights out. Don’t drink too much and always be in full control. Never leave a friend behind. Just stuff like that. I came to Argentina with limited spanish & lived with an argentine host family. All of my argentine classmates spoke terrible english which was great for me because I was forced to learn spanish. I was put in a class and the girls in this class took me in as one of their own. They brought me everywhere and I was their swedish mascot who just tagged along everywhere lol. I was treated really well and still keep in touch with them today. They said I was less shy after 5 months but it was not until then that I could understand what they were saying lol. Argentine families sometimes have limited means but they truly taught me the value of making the most of what you are given and making the best of what you have. I volunteered with handicapped children during my time there and these kids would correct my spanish non-stop which was great. My Argentine friends were too lazy to correct my grammar lol. I went running with a blind 14-year-old boy who had developed an eye disease just years earlier and I think this volunteer work really put life in perspective for me. Overall I had a great time in Argentina and I hit the jackpot because I spent my exchange year in patagonia. I had the classic experience of falling in love, traveling, going to school & just being fully immersed in argentine culture. My entire high school class came to wave me goodbye at the airport when I flew back to the USA <3 I will always look back at that year as one of the best years of my life. I think being an exchange student in high school is very different compared to being an exchange student at university. You’re still so young when you’re in high school and people are not as independent yet. You really get to experience family life, school life & the youth culture when you go as an exchange student in high school. I later lived in Buenos Aires for 6 months and studied at university during my gap year after living in Paris. I had a great time in Buenos Aires but I think my high school experience was more unique. I loved Buenos Aires though & the girls in my course would invite me to BBQs etc and I had a great time.

These are my experiences of my adventures living abroad. I would urge everyone to travel because nothing makes you appreciate home quite like living abroad. Or perhaps you will find a new home if the home you grew up in made you unhappy.

one thing about me……..i am hyperaware of the Vibes

[schoenpepper]

Hii

Can I request Rook and Azul with an S/O(reader) who really hates their real hair color so they dyed it to another color. The boys never seen their S/O with their original hair color but let's say they found a childhood photo of them and questions their S/O about it. Turns out they had the same hair color as their abusive father so they've dyed it to another when they turned into a pre-teen

Sorry if it's too much and confusing but if you ever do it thank you in advance!

Faded Colors

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread

A/N: See how productive I am (please don't throw your tomatoes at me I'm just a poor college student and November fucked me up bad). Presenting two characters I almost never write because they're...not my favorite.

Masterlist

"Is this you?"

Your heart almost stops beating when you saw what Azul was holding up—a yellowed Polaroid with a familiar child clad in a little black outfit. You sit beside your lover, leaning on his shoulder as you quietly trace over the picture.

"I didn't know your hair was dyed."

You know he won't judge you for it, and certainly not when he hears the reason. But right now, nothing leaves your lips. You freeze in place and nod. Azul nods with you.

You don't need to explain.

Not when he scoots closer to you and wraps his arms around you. You know he understands because he presses the softest kiss on your forehead and murmurs, "you look better with dyed hair."

He knows exactly what to say. Always.

"Shall I help you next time? My dear, would you like to emulate my hair color perhaps?"

At that, you let out a little laugh and nod again.

"Sure. If you can find a good box dye that matches it."

Today won't be the day you tell him about your shattered childhood, but eventually, you'll give him the pieces and let him glue you back together.

You don't need to tell Rook anything. If not because of... unconventional methods, he'll already have an inkling of your past and reasons just by watching you. The way you almost obsessively schedule your hair appointments, how you clam up when the topic turns to family history and your childhood, it's all an open book to him.

He is a hunter, after all. And you are his most precious proie.

It's Saturday.

You wake up in a daze, then panic. Every three weeks, you're supposed to get your roots touched up to avoid even catching a glimpse of your actual hair color, but you got so backed up by exams and projects and events that made it impossible to actually remember anything else. You can buy the dye today, you can still make it—

"Bonjour, mon amour. I come bearing gifts!"

The familiar dramatic greeting makes you jump back, clutching at your hair to desperately hide the fading dye at the roots, smiling awkwardly.

"Oh, Rook, love, I actually need to go out and buy something."

"These?"

He hands you a plastic bag with your usual supplies, pushing you back into your room. "Dépêchez-vous, I shall assist you in reaching your full potential of beauty!"

Taglist:

@fsh1 @lemon-koii @yummyyummyinmytumny

[uhbambii]

A Satinalia to Remember

The Dellamorte villa had been transformed. What was once a stately, shadowed retreat of tall pillars, marble floors, and quiet menace now sparkled with golden light and festive color. Twinkling candles lined every windowsill, garlands draped the staircases, and ribbons in deep greens and reds cascaded from every imaginable surface. The air smelled of pine, cinnamon, and something sweet—likely the cookies Rook had insisted that Lucanis prepare earlier that day, all while she “taste tested” the batter.

Lucanis stood in the doorway of the parlor, one arm braced against the frame, a cup of black coffee in hand. His dark eyes scanned the room with a slow, practiced deliberation, but no amount of training could prepare him for this level of… festive assault.

His gaze finally landed on the culprit. Rook was curled up on the couch beneath a soft blanket, one leg tucked under her, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She had decorated herself almost as much as the room—her hair tied loosely back, a soft sweater that hinted at curves he knew far too well, and the faintest dusting of powdered sugar on her cheek from earlier “taste testing.”

“You know,” he began, his voice a velvety mix of amusement and exasperation, “I’m starting to think the that the De Riva Crows sent you to drown me in garlands and twinkling lights.”

Rook glanced up, her eyes sparkling. “Is that your way of saying you like it?”

Lucanis crossed the room, his stride unhurried, predatory in its precision, before settling onto the couch beside her. He leaned back, stretching his arm along the top of the couch, his fingers idly brushing her shoulder. “Like is a strong word,” he teased, taking a slow sip of coffee. “I’m just wondering if I’ll ever be able to look at my villa again without seeing glitter in the shadows.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Rook replied, smirking as she leaned against him. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she sighed contentedly. “It’s Satinalia! You’re supposed to enjoy it, not sit there brooding like some tragic hero from a bard’s tale.”

“Tragic hero?” He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Tesoro mio, I am neither tragic nor a hero. If anything, I’m the shadow lurking behind the bard, waiting for the right moment to cut his strings.”

Rook rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “You can’t even let Satinalia soften you, can you? All this warmth, this beauty…” She gestured dramatically to the room.

“It’s my charm,” he replied smoothly, his dark eyes glittering as they met hers. “You seem to enjoy it well enough.”

“Hmm.” Rook took a slow sip of her hot chocolate, her lips quirking into a smirk over the rim of her mug. “I do enjoy it. But you know what I’d enjoy more?”

“Do tell,” Lucanis drawled, setting his coffee aside. He leaned closer, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “I’m dying to know what else I can do to make you happy, amore mio.”

She tilted her face up toward his, her eyes locked on his. “Well,” she began, her voice dropping just slightly, “I’d enjoy it if you stopped pretending you don’t love all of this.” Her free hand gestured to the tree, the garlands, the twinkling lights. “Admit it. You love it. You love me. And you love the idea of doing this every year—with our child.”

Lucanis froze for a fraction of a second, his sharp composure cracking just enough for her to notice. His fingers tightened slightly around his coffee cup before he set it down beside her mug, turning to face her fully.

"Our child?" he repeated, his voice low and smooth, though the faintest trace of surprise flickered in his dark eyes.

“Yes,” Rook said matter-of-factly, setting her mug down and turning to face him fully. “Our child. The one we’ll have someday, who will absolutely adore Satinalia because I’ll make sure they have all the best memories of it. And they’ll think their father is ridiculous for pretending to hate decorating.”

Lucanis chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve already planned their childhood, have you? Impressive. Tell me, have involved am I in this scheme of yours.”

“Oh, you’re very much a part of it.” She leaned in, her voice a playful whisper. “You’re going to be the one handing me the tinsel while I tell them stories about how their father tried to outlaw fun before I got here.”

“Outlaw fun?” he repeated, his tone mock-offended. “You make me sound like some kind of tyrant.”

“Maybe you are,” she teased, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “But I like tyrants. Especially handsome ones with dark eyes and even darker secrets.”

His grin widened, and he caught her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips to press a kiss against her palm. “Flattery will get you everywhere, tesoro.”

“Good,” Rook murmured, her voice softening as she leaned closer. “Because I have plans for you, Lucanis Dellamorte. Big plans. Decorating, parenting, maybe even teaching you how to smile without looking like you’re about to stab someone.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. “You mean you think I can be taught? I must be more charming than I thought.”

“You’re something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smirk.

Lucanis's smile softened as he tilted her chin up with a gentle touch, his dark eyes holding hers as if she were the only thing that existed. "You know, tesoro, you've turned this villa into something more than I ever imagined it could be," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek. "A place where I actually want to stay. A home. Our home."

Rook laughed softly, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "Don't worry, Lucanis. I'll keep your secret... mostly. Although I think I might enjoy people knowing just how soft you are when it comes to me."

His hand slid down to her waist, his touch lingering as he pulled her even closer. "Soft, am I?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his lips brushed along the curve of her jaw. "Careful, Rook, or I'll have to remind you just how dangerous I can be."

"Oh, I'm terrified," she teased back, her voice warm and full of laughter. But her breath hitched as his lips traveled lower, trailing a line of heat along her neck, his hands sliding over her curves with a possessive reverence.

Lucanis's smile deepened as he tilted her chin up with a touch that was both firm and tender, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me, tesoro mio?" he murmured, his thumb brushing slowly along the curve of her jaw. "You've turned my life upside down-and somehow, I can't bring myself to care."

Before Rook could reply, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. It was deep and consuming, the kind of kiss that stole her breath and made her knees weak. His hand slid from her chin to cradle the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tilted her head to deepen the angle. The pressure of his mouth against hers was unrelenting, as if he were determined to show her everything he couldn't quite put into words.

Rook's hands moved of their own accord, one curling around his neck while the other slid down his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his well-tailored shirt. The heat between them seemed to spark and grow with every touch, every brush of lips, until it felt like the air itself was charged with it.

When Lucanis finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, his dark eyes burning as they locked onto hers. "You drive me mad," he murmured, his voice low and rough as his hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips traced a heated path down the side of her neck, lingering at the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Do you know that, Rook? I can't think straight when you're near me."

Rook's laugh was soft and breathless as her hands slid up his chest to cup his face, tilting his head back so she could meet his gaze. "Good," she teased, though her voice wavered with the warmth pooling in her chest. "I wouldn't want to be the only one losing my mind tonight."

Lucanis's smirk returned, but it was darker now, more dangerous. "You're playing with fire, amore mio," he murmured, his lips brushing hers with teasing softness before pulling away just enough to make her chase him. His hands roamed her curves with deliberate slowness, as if memorizing every inch of her. "But I don't mind getting burned."

Before she could reply, he captured her lips again, this time with even more intensity. His kiss was demanding, his hands sliding over her hips and up her sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He pulled her closer, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her blouse to skim the bare skin of her back. The sensation sent a shiver through her, and she pressed herself against him, her nails grazing the back of his neck.

Lucanis groaned softly against her lips, the sound vibrating through her as his hands moved to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly as he stood. She let out a surprised laugh, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he carried her toward the bedroom with purpose in his stride.

"You could've warned me," she murmured, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her delight.

"And ruin the surprise?" he teased, his voice a low, velvety murmur. "I don't think so, tesoro."

When they reached the bedroom, Lucanis kicked the door shut behind them before lowering her onto the bed with a care that belied the hunger in his gaze. He hovered over her for a moment, his hands braced on either side of her as he studied her, his dark eyes tracing every feature of her face as if committing it to memory.

"You're dangerous," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made her heart race. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "You've wrapped me around your finger, Rook. And Maker help me, I don't ever want to break free."

Her breath hitched as he leaned down, his lips pressing against hers once more, slower this time, but no less passionate. His hand slid down her side, tracing the curve of her waist before moving to her thigh, his touch firm and deliberate. The weight of him above her, the heat of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers-all of it left her breathless and wanting more.

Rook's hands found their way beneath his shirt, her fingers skimming the hard planes of his chest as she pulled him closer. Her lips parted against his, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss until it felt like nothing else in the world existed but them.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his breathing ragged as he rested his forehead against hers. "Happy Satinalia, Rook," he murmured, his voice rough with affection and desire.

Rook smiled, her hands sliding up to cradle his face as she leaned into him. "Happy Satinalia, Lucanis."

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So I read somewhere that Satinalia is their version of Christmas? Idk but it was inspo 😌

Eat up? I’m working with bread crumbs atp!

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