#freaky... scary little baby...

[slumbergoblin]

she still doesn't have a name (I am not looking for suggestions) full page under the cut

[depresseddepot]

uh oh!!!! starting to feel unqualified for the opportunities I have been given!!!!

[fushitoru]

so i know who i'm looking at! a sukuna ryomen oneshot

pairing ⸺ ghostface!sukuna x reader

summary ⸺ on halloween night, you get a strange phone call from a man with a distorted voice right as you're chilling while babysitting yuuji. you get an ultimatum: perform for him, or risk your and yuuji's lives.

warnings ⸺ smut, fluff (at the end), pre established consent but dub con just in case, cream pie, lots of degradation and praise, “good girl,” oral sex (m!recieving), recording and pictures, suggested infidelity (but it’s not actually infidelity), exhibitionism, reader gives him a show in exchange for her life, rough sex, semi-public sex, established relationship, mdni, pls help me find artist for credit :(

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

you stretch, yawning as you adjust the blanket you had on you to cover you and give you warmth on the chilly october evening. gazing forlornly at the balcony window outside, you see kids and college students alike in their halloween costumes visiting homes for treats and bars for booze, respectively. tonight was a night you were supposed to get dicked down by your boyfriend in the bathroom of a frat, but you’re stuck instead with a last minute call to babysit yuji because he’s sick. 

you love the kid too much, like he’s your own baby. which is why you couldn’t refuse playing babysitter, even if that meant forgoing pictures for your instagram with the slutty angel costume you had bought a month who in anticipation of halloweekend. instead, you’re tucked in and cozy, watching scream for the nth time just to fangirl over how hot ghostface is. 

so you’re in your tank top and boy shorts, relaxing and chilling (that is, as much as you can while locked in on your movie). and, as if on cue, the moment the phone rings in the movie, the itadori household’s phone number gets a call.

you jump at the noise, a bit on edge because of the movie and definitely regretting the idea of setting the living room pitch back in spirit of mood lighting. groaning (albeit a bit freaked out), you get up to answer the call, as yuji babysitting protocol required that you answer any call in case it may be an emergency.  

picking up—but a bit on edge—you drone, “itadori household, how can i help you?”

there’s heavy breathing on the other end and you hate your scaredy cat tendencies because your heart is picking up at the distorted and low pants. “h—hello?”

“hey.” the voice is low, just like the breathing, and for a moment, you hate your brain for immediately recalling the nsfw audios you watch to masturbate because the guy on the phone sounds exactly like them. it’s a little freaky that you’re getting such a weird fuckin call at this time, but regardless you persist, in case this was relevant. you kind of need this job.

feigning cheerfulness, you ask, "what can i get ya?" as your fingers absently toy with the thin strap of your tank top. the cool air from the nearby vent sends a shiver across your skin, but the silence on the other end of the line is more unnerving. you're met with nothing but heavy breathing, and each exhale seems to scrape against your eardrums.

shifting uncomfortably, you feel the sweat beading at the nape of your neck as impatience builds. your fingers tighten around the receiver. "are you gonna talk or should i hang up?" you finally snap, agitation bleeding into your voice.

but before you can slam the phone down, he speaks.

“what’s your favorite scary movie?”

a groan escapes you, the kind that rises from deep in your chest, exasperation overtaking any lingering nervousness. "look, buddy, this is soooo corny. like, i was literally just watching scream, so you’re not doing shit. if you wanna prank call a girl, try somewhere else because—"

“you got a boyfriend?”

“i do,” you quip back quickly, a hand on your hip as you stand straighter, eyes flicking to the doorway of the kitchen. shadows dance in the dim light, your heartbeat subtly picking up pace. you move to hang up the phone, more irritated than frightened now. “so you better not try anything funny and waste more of your time, you fu—”

“but he’s not sleeping upstairs with the kid?”

the world freezes. you pause, the phone hovering mid-air. what did he just say? your pulse quickens, each thud louder than the last as dread claws at your chest. "what?"

a laugh, deep and guttural, slithers through the receiver. it’s the kind of laugh that makes your stomach drop and your legs feel weak. his voice is smooth, velvety even, and it curls around your ear like smoke. despite the creeping fear, something primal makes your thighs clench involuntarily. “okay, now that i’ve finally got your attention, let’s try this again. what’s your name, baby?”

that word—baby—the way he drags it out, rich and slow, makes your heart stutter, even as fear wraps tighter around your ribs. you grip the edge of the counter, nails digging into the cool surface. “why do you wanna know?”

“so i know who i’m looking at.”

the room spins. your breath falters, shallow, barely there. it’s like the walls are closing in, and your throat feels thick with fear. you lick your dry lips, throat tightening painfully. “wha—what do you mean?”

a soft coo hums through the phone, mockingly sweet. “no need to be afraid, pretty baby. you don’t want the kid upstairs to die, do you?”

your blood turns to ice. the words don’t make sense at first, but when they do, it feels like the floor’s been yanked out from beneath you. your mind races, every nerve in your body screaming. “what the fuck? is this some kind of prank call? this isn’t funny.”

but the man just continues, as if he didn’t just say something so horrifying that your stomach churns. his voice remains steady, eerily calm. “the kid, how old is he? five, six? he’s dozin’ off in those stupid iron man pj’s of his.” you swear you can hear his smile through the phone, a wicked curl of satisfaction. “and i love those shorts on you. parading your ass around like the slut you are. how’d your boyfriend leave you alone tonight?”

the walls feel like they’re closing in. a cold sweat breaks out across your skin, and suddenly the room feels too small. your eyes dart toward the darkened stairs. every creak of the house becomes louder, sharper. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as you swallow, mouth dry as cotton. it feels like someone is watching—someone who shouldn’t be there.

for a second, you digest the information he’d bestowed upon you—information about yourself. not-so-subtly freaking out, you get out a “please, please don’t do this.” 

 “then gimme a show. follow what i say.”

“o—okay. what do you want me to do?” you’re trembling, your realize, in your fear. or was it arousal?

“come closer to the window,” the voice purrs. you tentatively walk up to the balcony window facing the itadori garden, awaiting instructions as you stand shivering with the chill of the air.

“now,” the voice instructs, “take your top off. gimme a show, alright? better see that fucking back arch when you’re talking it off like filthy stripper slut you are.”

you whimper in humiliation but follow his instructions anyways, slowly becoming more and more of a slave to your arousal, caused by his assured and suave voice. when you take your tank top off, back arched just like he asked, the man groans and you hear distant squelches on the other side of the line.

“good girl. now when you take that bra off, pull up your cups, but don’t take it off, leave it bunched. those tits better bounce for me.” pulling up the cups of your bra, your tits recoil and bounce and the squelching gets even louder as you feel eyes rove over your tits. “fuck, i love those tits. get on your knees and bounce em for me like you’re riding cock.” 

you clench so hard as you move to do as he says. part of you is soooo aroused to be forced around like this, so you’re easily giving him the show that he wants, getting on your knees and moving your chest so that they start rhythmically bouncing, synced up with the squelches you hear in the other side of the phone.

“stick your tongue out. drool on your tits.” you moan, your tongue lolling out as a glob of spit starts trailing down your body.

 “fuck!” he exclaims, aroused by the sight. “you like being bossed around this baby? like my little bitch?”

“no!” you sob, tears springing out at the utter humiliation you were experiencing. “please let me go, please don’t do anything to yuji!” 

the voice chuckles. “really? i think you’re lying, baby. i know that pussy is wet while you’re giving me a show. matter of fact, why don’t you show me? make sure i get a really good look at that cunt, okay?”

slipping your shorts off, you turn so that your backside is facing the lawn and uncover your traitorous pussy—glistening wet—to him. taking a few steps back, you breathe heavily—like the person on the other side of the phone—as you press your pussy against the glass, the heat and humidity originating from your inner walls fogging the area on the glass. you hear a snap! on the other side, indicated that he had taken a photo. eyes widening in panic, you ask, “what are you doing? please, i’m doing whatever you wa—”

“i can’t let everyone think you’re some innocent virgin, can i? parading your ass and pussy for me, when anyone in the neighborhood can see? matter of fact,” and you start panicking at his next words, “i’ll post this online if you don’t grind that ass back for me.”

you swallow and start to do as he says. the glass is cool as you rub your folds along it, your slick dirtying the glass as you move your folds on the glass door. of course, the glide isn’t smooth—your clit keeps catching on the glass, but the fact that you’re bare to the world, any stray eyes being able to see you on display arouses you to no extent. you’re ashamed of being aroused at having to perform for a stranger, but you continue regardless and clutch the phone in your hand as he speaks to you again.

“the fuck you so wet for?” the voice mocks you. “you get off on this shit?”

“fuck you,” you moan, continuing to rub yourself. “i hate you.” 

the man laughs meanly. “for someone you hate, you’re getting pretty wet for me, baby.” the sounds of him stroking his dick are even louder as you grind against the door at the same tempo that he moves his hand at, grunting as you continue moaning into the mic. “look at how you’re clenching—good girl. want me to come in and make you cum?”

“real fucking cocky,” you hiss into the phone, “really fuckin cocky of you to think you can make me cum. with the way you had to threaten me, i just know you have a micro.”

as soon as you say that, the call hangs up and you look at your screen in confusion. that is, until you feel hands on your bare hips, knees–covered in black fabric—pressing against the junction between your thighs. “say that again,” the voice whispers.

you turn, eyes wide and heart speeding up as you turn to see the very figure that showed up in your movie. reminiscent of the killer, a tall man in a mask is hunched over you, now moving his hands to grip at your hands. “let’s take this to the bed, shall we?”

“oh shit,” ghostface curses, continuously snapping photos of your lips, the flash going off in the dark room. “look at this,” and he brings the camera closer and closer to your pussy, using his other hand to spread your lips as you helplessly lie on the bed, forced to spread your legs for him. “this pussy clenches everytime the flash goes off!” and he’s laughing, mocking you as slick leaves your hole in drops as the utter way you’re being humiliated. he grabs your cheeks roughly with the hand that was spreading your nether regions, squeezing them together and focusing the camera on your face. “this is the slut i’m going to fuck. gonna suck my cock, right?”

“mhm,” you whimper, resigned to your fate. making quick work of his robe, he takes them off completely, still leaving his mask in place. as he uncovers his pelvis, your eyes immediately rove over the hardened muscles on his abdomen. there’s a pink happy trail leading down to his dick, which is furiously red and standing. he grabs it, pumping the length as he moves closer and closer to your face until his precum is smearing against your face.

 “fuck,” he curses, as he takes in the sight of your teary eyes looking up at him dumbly, lips puckered as he slaps his cock against your cheeks until your cheeks are turning red. you’re giving kitten licks to his tip every time he alternates between slapping your two cheeks, not knowing what do to with yourself except focus on your oral fixation telling you instinctively to suck his cock. he then uses his fingers to pull your mouth open and slowly feeds his cock inside, eyes rolling back as soon as he feels your warm breath and hot tongue encompass him. 

you’re sucking at his tip and alternating between licking the rest of his dick, and he’s lost in the tight, wet heat of your mouth hollowing around him. you then prop yourself on your knees, using your hands to grab and play with his balls, stimulating him even more and causing him to rip out of your mouth and growls, “on your hands and knees. now.”

he doesn’t give you sufficient time to turn around and fully adjust in your position as he’s slamming into your roughly, the wet plush of your pussy too enticing. because you didn’t see it coming, your face is smushed against the pillow, and he grabs at your hands, using his free hand to hold them together at the small of your back. 

“you like my cock, baby?”  he pants, sweat beginning to run down his torso. when you don’t respond, he lets go of your hands to smack you consecutive times on your ass. “answer me.”

“i love it sooo much,” you babble, too lost in the pleasure to form more coherent thoughts as you ramble. “it’s splitting me—oh my god.” your eyes roll back—in pain or pleasure, you can’t decide—as his cock kisses your cervix. the masked man keeps thrusting in you, the sounds of his hips smacking into yours echoing throughout your room in a series of plap plap plap’s. 

“yea? fuck, i’m so close. you wanna live baby?” he grabs your hair and pulls, giving you a sloppy wet kiss on your cheek. “let me come inside. you’ll let me dump my cum in you, right?”

you only clenched tighter at his words. “please,” you sobbed. “please come inside. please paint my walls. i want your cum so bad.” 

you were so close, staving off your orgasm until he filled you up. at your words, the intruder laughed mockingly and kept thrusting into you, but the telltale sloppiness of his hips indicated that he was close. “god, what a slut—” he was interrupted by his own climax, and as soon as the thick ropes of cum filled you, you came with a squeal, your back arching impossibly further as your thrashed on his dick because of the intensity of your orgasm. both of you rid it together, panting as you came down. 

he pulls out of you, and before you can catch your breath, the man flops his entire weight on top of you, making you laugh as you let out a startled exclamation, “ryo!”

you squirm beneath him, trying to push him off, but it’s futile. he’s far too big and heavy, and he knows it. with a low, lazy chuckle, your boyfriend, sukuna ryomen, removes his mask—tossing it carelessly onto the floor—before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the heat radiating off him as his chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“did you enjoy that stupid thing you wanted, brat?” he mumbles, slightly panting in exhaustion.

his words are snarky, but you can hear the affection laced beneath them. your heart swells with a sudden rush of warmth, the fondness you feel for him almost overwhelming. it’s moments like this—where he does something ridiculous just because you asked, despite all his grumbling—that remind you why you love him so much.

you wrap your arms around his broad back, fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine as you press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “you didn’t have to go all out, you know,” you whisper, smiling into his hair. “but i really appreciate it. you’re kind of the best, even when you pretend you’re not.”

ryomen grunts, but there’s no bite to it. he tightens his hold around you, his large frame practically cocooning you in warmth. you feel his lips brush softly against the skin of your neck, a tender gesture that contrasts with his usual roughness.

“yeah, well... you’re lucky i love you, freak,” he murmurs, voice low and husky. despite his usual bravado, there’s something undeniably soft in the way he says it, as if the words are meant just for you.

you hum contentedly, feeling the weight of his body press you into the mattress. it’s comforting, like being wrapped in a warm blanket. you trace circles on his back with your fingertips, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, where it’s just you and him—no roleplay, no teasing—just the quiet aftermath of love.

“lucky, huh?” you tease back softly. “i’d say we’re both pretty lucky.”

ryomen huffs a quiet laugh against your skin before lifting his head slightly to look at you, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. then, he gets up and makes a move to walk out the door. at first, you thought he was heading towards the bathroom door to give you a towel to clean you up, but he’s heading towards the door—soft cock swinging, butt naked—and you’re only left in confusion as to what he’s doing.

“ryo, where are you going?”

“fixin myself a sandwich, i’m hungry,” he grumbles over his shoulder, leaving you dumbfounded. you’re left sitting on the bed as he continues the trek down the stairs to satiate his post sex hungries. 

“hey!” you shriek, “your balls are out! what if yuji sees?” 

later, when yuji walks deliriously into the kitchen to see his uncle’s cock and balls, he almost wishes he could fully succumb to his fever.

next. week two

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hehe i love fluffy sukuna. consider joining my kinktober taglist if you'd like!

taglist:

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto

[hoshigray]

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example. 

Yes, you have a boyfriend. 

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material. 

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more. 

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true. 

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears. 

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?” 

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases. 

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?” 

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle. 

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm. 

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some— 

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace. 

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto—confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs. 

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?” 

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right? 

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries. 

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire. 

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots.  So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!” 

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.” 

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…” 

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.  

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves. 

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours. 

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties! 

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun. 

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice. 

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?” 

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.” 

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction. 

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking. 

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider. 

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.” 

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room. 

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in. 

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.” 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by alp (ringoya) + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[s4kura-tr3]

how about reader comforting gojo / mediating when their new baby doesn’t like him? maybe his cursed energy makes his presence too overwhelming for them or maybe they just don’t like his freaky blue eyes

Gojo x reader

Gojo Satoru had faced curses stronger than most sorcerers could even comprehend. He had been feared and revered in equal measure. But nothing — nothing — had prepared him for the heartbreak of his own child not liking him.

It had started the moment you brought the baby home. Swaddled in soft cotton, cheeks plump and rosy, their tiny fists would flail happily when you held them. But the second Gojo leaned over the crib, his heart swelling with love and nervous excitement — the baby would cry. Not a soft whimper, but a full-blown scream that shattered the peaceful quiet of the nursery.

“Maybe it’s my cursed energy,” Gojo muttered one night, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest. His head was tipped back against the wall, hair messier than usual, the pale blue glow of his eyes dim beneath the weight of his exhaustion. “Maybe it’s too much for them.”

You sat cross-legged beside him, your hand rubbing circles on his back. “You’re suppressing it, though. You’re being careful.”

“Careful’s not enough, apparently,” he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. His long fingers tangled in white hair. “I’m supposed to be the strongest. But I can’t even get my own kid to stop crying when I look at them.”

“Or maybe,” you teased gently, “it’s those freaky eyes of yours.”

He shot you a glare, but you saw the sadness lingering beneath the usual mischief. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” you murmured. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “But maybe they don’t know that yet.”

Gojo let out a tired laugh. “Great. So my own child thinks I’m scary.”

“Or maybe they’re just overwhelmed,” you suggested. “You’re a lot to take in, Satoru.”

He huffed. “Gee, thanks.”

You shifted closer, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “They’re still figuring out the world. They don’t know yet that their dad is the safest place in it.”

Gojo’s jaw tightened. His gaze drifted toward the crib, where the baby was sleeping peacefully under the soft blue light of the moon filtering through the curtains. He hesitated, his hand hovering mid-air like he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace.

“Hey,” you whispered, scooting to sit behind him. Your arms wrapped around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. “Let’s try something.”

He turned his head slightly toward you. “What?”

“Come here.”

You rose to your feet and walked over to the crib, scooping up the baby with practiced ease. Their little mouth opened in a sleepy yawn, tiny fists curling against your chest. You settled back down on the floor, motioning for Gojo to sit behind you.

He hesitated before sliding in close, his long legs bracketing yours. His chest pressed to your back as you leaned the baby slightly toward him.

“Just let them get used to you,” you said softly. “No pressure. Just… be here.”

Gojo’s breath was warm against your neck as he leaned down. The baby stirred slightly, their sleepy eyes fluttering open. Gojo reached out with careful hands, brushing a knuckle along the soft curve of their cheek.

The baby’s gaze met his — wide, round, and unblinking. Gojo held his breath. Their tiny face wrinkled. His heart slammed against his ribs.

But this time, they didn’t cry.

“Hey,” Gojo whispered, his voice so soft it almost didn’t sound like him. His finger brushed along their tiny hand, and miraculously — miraculously — the baby’s hand curled around it.

Gojo’s eyes widened, breath hitching in his throat. His mouth parted like he couldn’t believe it was happening.

“They like you,” you whispered, smiling.

Gojo’s eyes softened, the usual teasing glint replaced by something far more fragile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned down, brushing the gentlest of kisses to the baby’s forehead. His breath shuddered when they didn’t pull away. His arms circled around you and the baby, his chin resting on your shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut.

“See?” you whispered, turning your head just enough to press your lips to his temple. “They just needed to know you were safe.”

Gojo’s smile was small and quiet. “Guess they’re smarter than they look.”

“Of course they are.” You laughed softly. “They take after me.”

Gojo chuckled, low and warm. His arms tightened around you both, and this time — when the baby stirred and opened their eyes — they didn’t cry. They just blinked up at Gojo with quiet curiosity, their tiny hand still wrapped around his finger.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

really sexy elbows

fluff, humor, excessive amounts of love, playful teasing, cuddling, ridiculous adoration, banter, overwhelming affection, established relationship, sexy elbows

word count - 1k

The room is dim, bathed in the lazy glow of a bedside lamp. You're straddling him, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his waist, fingers ghosting over his face like you're memorising him. Chris watches you with amusement, his hands resting lightly on your thighs, thumbs tracing absentminded circles over your skin. He smells like fresh laundry and something warm, something distinctly him.

"I love when you talk," you start, voice soft but certain. "Just casually. When you're chill. But I also love when you're happy, or silly, or goofy. Or when you're just really excited about something."

Chris huffs a quiet laugh, tilting his head into your touch like a dog as you cup his jaw. His skin is warm beneath your palms, his stubble just starting to come in. You trail your fingers up, brushing over his brows, his temple, the sharp lines of his cheekbones.

"And I hate when you're sad, or mad, just because. I don't know," you continue, brows pinching slightly. "And you look so cute when you’re thinking hard about something, like you’re trying to solve a puzzle with your eyes. And whenever you're sleepy, I get really happy because I just want to cuddle you whilst you fall asleep… or give you a glass of juice to wake you up."

"You and this juice obsession," he mutters, smiling up at you, but his voice is thick with affection.

You hum, running a thumb over his cheek before grinning. "I love your smile. And your eyebrows. I love your ears. And your eyes, even if they are a bit freaky sometimes."

Chris squints. "Freaky?"

"Scary freaky." You giggle, shifting closer. "I love your cheeks."

"Which ones?"

You swat at his shoulder, trying to stifle a laugh. "Stop! Your cheekbones! I love your nose too," you say, giggling as you trace the bridge of it. "I love your chin. I love your teeth, and your lips, and your gums."

"My gums?"

"Mhm," you confirm, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I love your jawline, and your neck, and your shoulders. I love your style. How clothes sit on your body, especially long sleeves. I love you in all colours. Your taste in music. I also love your knuckles, and I love kissing ‘em. And your kindness. I love how much love you have to give, and I love how you don't expect anything in return, even though you deserve it."

Chris swallows, eyes softening. His grip on your thighs tightens just slightly, like he needs to feel you closer.

"I love your hands, especially when they're on me, especially my waist, or my hips" you murmur, guiding his fingers there. "I love your arms, especially when they're around me."

He obliges, wrapping them around you in one fluid motion, pulling you just a little bit closer. His chest is broad and steady beneath your palms, rising and falling with quiet laughter as you continue.

"I love your tummy and your man boobs," you say, chuckling before pausing dramatically to tap your chin. "I love your legs and your knees. I love how strong you are. How smart you are. How creative. Passionate. And funny."

Chris quirks a brow. "You just gonna name every single body part?"

"Of course," you scoff. "I love your ankles. I love how much you love all your shoes, even if I think it's stupid. I love your boxers. I love your hoodies, and your hats, especially the baseball dad caps, and the beanies," You pause, gaze dropping to his arms, then further down. "And I love your elbows."

Chris exhales a laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm. Wait, did I say that one already? Because I think you have really sexy elbows. I mean it. Look at them, baby."

"Speaking of," you say softly, smoothing a hand over his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I love getting to call you that. Baby. Babe. But I also love saying your name. Chris. Christopher." You grin. "Christopher Owen Sturniolo. And you're my boyfriend. I just can't believe it."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering at your jaw. "Believe it."

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you're just looking at him, this boy beneath you, who loves you just as much as you love him. Maybe even more.

"I love you," you whisper, and the words keep coming, because you don't think you'll ever run out of ways to say it. "I love you so, so much. I love being yours. I love that you're mine. I love spending time with you. I love kissing you. I love laughing with you. Breathing with you. Touching you." Your hands smooth over his chest, up to cup his jaw. "I love you."

Chris just watches you, gaze unreadable, his hands tightening on your hips.

"I love how much you yap," you continue, voice quieter now, more earnest. "Because I love listening to you speak. But I also just love talking with you. Or just talking at you." You giggle, nose scrunching. "I love your family. I love your dog. I love your friends. I love everything about you."

“You done, baby?”

"Mhm," you murmur, smiling down at him.

Chris exhales like he's winded, eyes flickering over your face. "Good. Coz you're gonna make me cry."

You grin, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "Good."

He shakes his head, rolling you onto your back and caging you in beneath him, pressing his face into your neck. You squeal, kicking your feet, but he just squeezes you tighter.

"Sometimes there's so much love in my heart, I think I'll explode," you mumble into his hoodie.

Chris chuckles, lips brushing against your jaw. "It's the elbows, isn't it?"

"Mhm," you hum, barely awake now. "They're really sexy."

Chris shakes his head, smiling against your skin. "You're ridiculous."

"But you love me," you mumble sleepily.

"Yeah," he whispers, pulling you closer. "I do."

creds to rose for the dividers <33 @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: can't let gang know i fw this (sidenote i rlly hope u guys like this ive not been feeling the greatest but i reread some of my fav writers today and this cute fluff idea just kinda spawned in:>)

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @sturnsrecordfaves @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss comment to be added to my taglist!

till next time !!

[applejade]

Safe

Warnings: Age gap(reader is grown!!), smut, Sevika is called mama/mommy kink, Sevika acts as a caregiver/guardian for some years, isolation, tribbing, cunnilingus, squirting, the fic is kinda freaky, if any of these warnings sound scary to you pls don’t read🙏🏾

7 years ago you laid in the streets of Zaun - malnourished and dirty. Without a home, with no family in sight.

Sevika came to you like a guardian angel sent from the universe herself. She took pity on you. Took you in and raised you up from the frightened, lonely teen you used to be.

Now at 22, you were still frightened and still lonely, but at least you had her. She was all you had.

When she would take her nightly trips to the last drop you weren't allowed with her. Every mission she went on was kept private. Any friend you made had to be approved by her. If you wanted food from a street vendor, she'd walk right beside you with a possessive grip on the back of your neck, making sure you don't wander off.

She really didn't even want you stepping outside of her apartment door on your own, but she didn't want you going completely insane from the isolation, so she permitted a couple minutes on the doorstep when she's away on her lengthy quests.

She had eyes everywhere, assuring that if you were to even think about going a step further than her doormat, you'd be brought right back home.

And in her eyes, this was what was best. You were hers. Her little girl. The only thing she truly cared for in her life other than her beloved city. If isolating you was the only way to protect you from the world and its cruelty - she would do it.

It was better you depended on her than some stranger looking to take advantage of you.

According to her, she was doing this for your own good. You believed her words and you were mostly happy. For the last 7 years you wanted nothing more than to be with her at all times. She was your savior, your hero, and even though you knew she wasn't your actual mother - she was still a mother figure to you. For the longest, you put up no fight when she told you to stay put and wait for her to come back to you.

But when you grew into adulthood, you got bolder. Bolder and restless. She would leave for hours on end and your requests for her to stay with you always went ignored. 

So you switched tactics. Every venture she made, you begged to come with. Same as the last, the answer was always no.

“It's not safe, doll”

“You're too young”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You're not going out!”

You'd beg and beg but get nowhere. Every requisition for even a glance at her world on the outside would end in her raising her voice, and you crying yourself to sleep.

She tried her best to keep you as sheltered as she could but on your walks to jerichos, you took glances at the brothel. You knew of her history and you remembered the times she'd be gone till late into the night when you were young. 

You put two and two together as you got older. You don't know if it's envy or disgust you feel when you see her beginning to go to Babettes but regardless - you can't stand it.

It was about 10 at night when you saw her putting her shoes on again. She could very well be going to the last drop but her lack of a goodbye let you know she wasn't.

You shuffled up to the beginning of the hallway where you can see the front door.

“Where are you going?” you whispered. She startled a bit and whipped her head to your dark figure in the hallway.

“Dont worry about it, baby. Go to sleep - I'll be home before you wake up.”

Her vague reply only confirmed your worries. 

You furrowed your brows and tried to think of a way to make her stay.

In times like these, you used to claim you couldn't sleep without her. That you needed her beside you all throughout the night or your nightmares would run rampant. It wasn't exactly a lie but the way you softened your voice and pouted with your pleading, doe-like eyes was most definitely a form of manipulation.

You could've used the same trick that you did as a teen but you're grown and you've been off the streets for years. She wouldn't believe you if you claimed to be afraid now. You resorted to regular old pleading.

“Don't go, please.” 

You watched her sigh as you tried to think of something else to say. Anything to make her stay with you and not go to those whores at the brothel that don't care about her like you do.

“Baby I-”

“Why don't you do it with me?”

She stared, shocked like your words were a bucket of cold water thrown in her face. 

“What are you talking about?” She spoke slowly as if slowing down would help her comprehend this moment better. 

There was no way you knew where she was going, right? She made sure you were never exposed to stuff like that.

“Well,” you started to fidget. Maybe this was a bad idea. You know she might not agree considering she knew you when you were a teen, but you're not a kid anymore. You're pushing 23. You're even old enough to drink now and despite how sneaky she thinks she's being, you've noticed the way she's been looking at you since you became an adult. 

“I'm old enough now, aren't I?”

“For what, Y/n?”  She almost interrupted. Her voice was firm, almost scolding. You gulped and walked up to her, eyes watching the floor.

“You know what for.” you muttered.

She stood silent as you stared at her feet. It seemed like she was stunned so you thought to explain yourself more. 

“Well, I'm almost 23 and I just thought - why go all the way over there with people you don't really know when you could have me? I mean-” Your confidence started to waver. “You do like me, don't you?”

You looked up through your lashes to see her squinting eyes running over your body. You weren't wearing much but a flimsy nightgown that barely reached the middle of your thighs.You could tell she was considering it so you doubled down.

“Come on, mama. Just stay.” You tugged on her hand. The nickname seemed to have got her attention and you felt a small flicker of hope light up in your chest. But instead of her following you to your room, she pulled away and brought her hand to cup your cheek.

“How do you know about the brothel?” She spoke lowly.

You held her wrist to your nose and breathed her in. “We've walked past it before. Remember?”

She cursed under her breath. Taking your hand in hers, she stalked the two of you to your bedroom and nearly threw you on the bed. You tried to get up instantly but she was already pulling your pink and black bonnet over your 2 puffy twists.

“Vika!-”

“You're not supposed to know about that.” She grunted as she pushed you down and hastily pulled the covers over you. You started to panic as you saw her making her way to the door. 

You scrambled up and grabbed her wrist “No! Please! I hate it when you go there. Just stay with me!”

She looked down at your grasping hands. “Go to sleep, bunny.” She said in an almost solemn manner.

“Just tell me what they have that i dont! I can be that for you Vika, please!” you lowered your voice from the slight shout it was before “I- I thought you wanted me?”

 “It's not about whether I want you or not, doll.”

“Then what is it?”

She sighed “It's just- I shouldn't want you. I should be taking care of you, protecting you-” She sputtered 

“not- taking advantage of you”

You rose to your knees and hugged her muscular arm, resting your head on her shoulder. “You're not taking advantage of me” You whispered “I want it.”

Her glittering silver eyes met yours and you murmured  “You know i love you, mama” 

Her mechanical hand rose to hold your cheek as she turned to face you. “I love you too, bunny.”

Her slightly chapped lips meet yours and you sigh into her.

She had you laying on your back as she kissed you lovingly. Your hands roam over her broad shoulders to her chest, squeezing and rubbing wherever she allows. 

She disconnects her lips from yours to take a deep breath. You chase her lips and attempt to lead her hand to your pussy.

“Please, mama.”

“Do you know what you're asking for?”

You roll your eyes at her “Of course I do, I'm not dumb.”

She slaps your thigh roughly and you gasp. “Don't get smart, baby. You want me to stop?” 

“No! I'm sorry” you pout. She hums and lets her fingers glide over your panty-covered pussy. 

You arch your back and push your pussy into her hand. You've touched yourself before but Sevikas fingers rubbing over your pulsating clit feels 100 times better.

You softly moan and try to urge her to touch you more. “Be patient.” She says and you whine. 

Eventually she climbs down your bed. Her warm breath fans over your clothed pussy and you shudder. She slowly drags your sticky, soaked panties off your thighs and throws them on the floor. 

The two of you make eye contact as she slowly gets closer to your wet pussy. She spreads your slick folds and licks a languid stripe from your leaking hole to your swollen clit. You bring your hand to your mouth as you let out a squeaky moan, attempting to muffle your moans. She hums an objection as she sucks your clit between her ebony lips. 

One hand flies to softly grip her hair while your arm slides over your mouth to quiet yourself completely. She releases your clit with a resounding pop and grabs the wrist muffling your noises. 

“Don’t. I wanna hear you, baby” You bite your lip and nod. Satisfied, she goes back to sucking on your clit. Her spit drips down to the covers as she devours you like your pussy is her last meal. You writhe and grind your pussy on her face until you feel her thick fingers circling your entrance. 

She slides in another not too long after the first is inside. Her thick fingers feel like sweet fire as they enter you. You haven't fingered yourself in a good minute but the slight burn makes your pussy clench. Your free hand grips her hair tighter and you whimper in pleasure. “Mama, please”

Your pleas fall on deaf ears as she loses herself in your cunt. Her deep moans resonate through your core and you start to tremble. “fuck- i-” You try to warn her about your arising climax but she catches on before you can choke it out. The pleasure stops and glistening lips come into your view. You mewl in complaint “Why-”

Before you can finish your grievance, Sevikas hurriedly pulling her pants off. You barely notice her shirt being thrown across the room - too entranced by the sight of her dripping cunt. You feel your clit pulse as you graze your eyes over her muscular form. Your hands reach out to run over tight muscles and a skinny waist and your eyes glaze over.

She lifts your leg and positions herself between you. “What are you doing?”

Her brow raises while a smirk grows on her features “I thought you knew, bunny. Didn't you say you weren't dumb?” 

“I'm not! I've just- never done this before.” You trailed off.

Sevika let out a small chuckle “What have you done, sweet girl?” You pouted up at her condescending reminder of your lack of experience. 

“It's your fault I don't know. You never let me do anything.” You muttered. Her smirk fell and she leaned closer, bringing your risen leg with her. You wince at the slightly painful stretch “I keep you safe, bunny. Would you rather I let someone take advantage of you?” 

“That hurts-”

Her hand grips your chin “Answer me”

“No! I wouldn't.”

“You know why I keep you in here, don’t you?”

You try to nod with her tight hold on your face.

“Why?” she asks

“To keep me safe.” you mutter cedingly.

She slowly sits up but doesn’t release your chin.

That's right, bunny.” She says with darkened eyes. Her mechanical hand lifts your nightgown to your chest and she lowers her pussy onto yours. You gasp when she slowly gyrates. Her clit rubs against yours and you watch her silver irises turn hazy. You rock in tandem with each other. Eyes never breaking contact as her thick lip is tucked between her teeth. 

“My pretty girl” She moans. You shudder with teary eyes. Hand gripping the mechanical hand on your raised thigh. 

Your synchronized mewls resound through the room until you feel her rhythm falter. You squeeze the hand clutching your jaw. “Please- Please make me cum, mama” 

Her grunts get louder- almost over-shadowing the wet sounds from your slobbering cunts. You feel a rushing pleasure overwhelm you - almost like you need to pee. You attempt to warn Sevika but as usual, she already knows what her baby is feeling.

“Just let go, baby. Cum on mama.”

Your eyes roll back as your squirt showers her already soaked pussy and she lets out a loud moan. Her climax hits her like a freight train and she rocks the two of you through the sensations. 

You whimper and whine for her as her head falls back. Legs trembling in her grasp, you breathe heavy. 

Everything after is a blur. You can only register the warm wetness of a washcloth on your sensitive pussy before everything else blends together. The soft beat of her heart lulls you to sleep and cradled safe in her arms - you slumber through the night with a heartwarming satisfaction. 

[merakiui]

HALLOWEENIE. [1]

skully j. graves x (female) reader cw: nsfw, retail au, smoking, modern au (no magic), cheesy workplace romance, may be ooc (some creative liberties were taken for various aspects of skully's character and may not align with characteristics shown in tnbc event), characters written as 18+ note - skully returns for another season of work at fellow honest's halloween store. is this the year he finally musters the courage to confess to his cherished coworker, or is it going to be another year spent with his nose buried in his poetry journal? // split into three parts due to size. read part two and part three.

“It is hotter than Satan’s asshole out there. Why are we open this early?” you grumble, toying with a skull squishy toy. Its villainous sneer is stretched out in your hands, liquid glitter sparkling from within polyurethane skin. “No one’s doing Halloween in August.”

Sighing, Rollo hides his disdain behind his handkerchief. “Many people prefer to be prepared well in advance for important events and holidays…unlike some.”

“I know that dig wasn’t meant for me. I’m as prepared as they come. I’ve always got my share of rent ironed out, don’t I?”

“If only that was all that required ironing…”

“Now, now!” Fellow taps his cane against the ground. It’s all for show, but you’ll admit it adds flair to his exuberant character. “Both of you, show some more enthusiasm! And, Miss (Name), treat the merchandise as you would a baby—with care! Halloween is upon us in this haven of hellish haunts.” He slinks over to you, leaning in to whisper covertly. “The white-haired one—”

“Rollo.”

“Right, just what I said! Mr. Rollo here speaks the truth. Profit made in a month will never surpass that stretched out across many months. The optimal time for Halloween shopping and foot traffic in general happens between August and all the way up to October, and when everything goes on sale in November… Hah! Imagine it! Holidays are about the commercial and the—ahem!—the…uh. Well, the collaborative efforts of a hard-working team, of course! Right. Yes. Very so!”

“Uh-huh. And how many broke college kids are just itching to flock here?” You drum your acrylics along the stress toy. They’re painted with pastels and decorative sunbeams. You’re still in summer mode, not Halloween mode. “Fellow, are you sure you couldn’t have pushed opening until—I dunno—the end of August? I’d like to enjoy what little summer I have left, thank you very much.”

He gasps, scandalized. “And deny the people their ghastly goodies? I think not!”

“Who’s our target audience? The dead? Literally no one’s interested in Halloween when—”

The doors swing open then and a lanky leg steps through. The rest of him follows next, every impossibly tall centimeter straightening out into an impressive, gangly height.

“Happy Halloween, lovely people!” he exclaims, arms spread wide.

Rollo smirks behind his handkerchief, quietly amused. “No one, you say?”

“So there’s someone,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Whatever. He doesn’t count.”

After all, if you’re Skully J. Graves, spooky season savant, every day is Halloween.

Fellow pushes off from the counter to greet him. “Ah, Skeleton, my boy! Welcome back! I see you’re raring to go as always.”

“Naturally! I’ve waited all year for this day—the annual opening of this spectacular store of spooks!” He turns a full 360° to view the scary stock and then bounds over to a wall lined with freaky frights—costumes and masks, candy and corpses, faux cobwebs and other yard props. Squealing in delight, he adds, “And what a terrifying array! How dreadful!”

Skully skips over to Fellow, and the two shake hands with an energy that would’ve been infectious if you and Rollo weren’t already immune.

“Those same sunglasses… Wearing them indoors as always. What a bold fashion statement,” you murmur, leaning into Rollo. He meets you halfway, and the two of you hide behind that infamous square cloth of his. “If it were anyone else, I’d see nothing but a pompous fool.”

“Admittedly, it is quite fitting for a man of his…tastes.”

“You should get yourself a pair.” You nudge him with your hip, snickering. That earns you a quirk of lip, the slightest hint of a smile.

“Even a circus of one requires a ringleader. Might you consider joining me?” 

“We’ll walk around the flat in our silly glasses and wax poetry. ‘To be or not to be’—”

“That is the question, is it not!” Skully pops up between the both of you. He wraps his long arms around you and Rollo, much to your roommate’s dismay. “‘Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune’—” he plucks the skull stress toy from your hand and holds it up to the fluorescent lights, dramatic like a Shakespearean actor— “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’ Oh, my dears, how delightful it is to meet under this roof!”

He drops the toy and embraces you both once more before pulling away to take hold of your hand. Gently, he places a chaste kiss upon the top of it.

“A kiss for this auspicious encounter! How radiant you are, my sweet, more so than the brightness in one’s eyes as expiration is thrust upon them through betrayal of a sharpened blade.”

“Hello to you, too, Skulls.”

He hums and reaches for Rollo’s hand next, but it’s yanked away in a blink.

“Good afternoon to you, Skully,” he mutters, a shred of contempt lodged in his brittle tone. He lifts his handkerchief to his mouth.

“A fine one at that.” He smooths nonexistent wrinkles from his black overcoat, seemingly unaffected by Rollo’s icy exterior. How he manages to wear such an outfit in the scorching heat, you’ve never understood. “I cannot contain my excitement, nor can I possibly express in words just how grand it is to see all of you again.”

“Been a minute, hasn’t it?”

“Far more than just one!”

“And with that our frightening fivesome—we mustn’t forget Gidel—is complete!” Fellow gestures for the lot of you to huddle up. “Let us give this season our best go, yes?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you say, your energy far from in it.

“Sure,” Rollo agrees.

“Yes, sir!” Skully salutes with an eagerness that puts you at ease. If anything, he hasn’t changed since you saw him last. You sort of missed his cheerful, happy-go-lucky attitude.

Faced with a variety of conflicting reactions, Fellow sighs and knocks his cane against the wall where a Halloween advertisement is posted. Scarily Good Deals reads the eerie, dripping font. 

“Look alive, you three—er, uh, dead if you’re Skeleton.”

“Already on it!” he replies, beaming from pale cheek to pale cheek.

“Yes, just so. Ahem! This is an important time for this tiny town. We’ve got to give it our all! No unhappy customers on my watch. Unhappy customers lead to talks of refunds and questions of my validity and… Well, just overall crummy nonsense that will dampen this spooky experience, and we certainly don’t want that.”

“No, sir!”

“Yeah, yeah. I getcha. Sell lots of stuff, be nice to the customers, avoid issues.”

Rollo hums his acquiescence. 

“Precisely that!”

You break formation just as a customer walks in, the little bell above the doors signaling their arrival. Fellow gestures for you and Skully to follow him. On your way out from behind the counter, you pat Rollo’s shoulder. 

“Leaving it to you, Mr. Prepared.”

You can feel his ire burning into your back, and it prompts a giggle from you—one that’s quickly muffled into your hand. 

“A new shipment arrived just yesterday,” Fellow explains while you and Skully trail after him. “Those boxes over there—I’d like the two of you to finish stocking their contents. If it gets busy, one of you assist the white-haired one.”

“Again, it’s Rollo,” your white-haired friend calls out from the front. “I’ve been here long enough for you to remember it.”

“Yes, just as I said! In any case, do that for me, if you would.”

“You can count on us, Mr. Honest!”

“Skulls and I are gonna stock this stuff so good you’ll have to give us a raise.”

Fellow grins like it’s funny, but he isn’t laughing. “Oh, the imagination of this generation’s youth is truly boundless! Simply wondrous,” he exaggerates, waving his arms about in a mesmerizing way. “A marvelous feat of the mind!”

“He isn’t granting us a raise, is he?” Skully asks, watching him depart. 

“Did that sound like yes to you?”

“Far from it. Ah, but I don’t seek anything extra. I have everything I need here.” He gestures to the store. “Halloween! What more could you need?”

“Money, firstly.”

Skully waggles his finger in your face, clicking his tongue. “Money does not grow on trees, my dear, but pumpkins do—on the ground, at least! Therefore, Halloween is a necessity! A glorious, essential holiday worth more than money. The only holiday! It’s what Jack Skellington thought.”

“Before he discovered Christmas.”

“Righto! It’s wonderful, isn’t it? He took Christmas and made it so despicably dreadful. An absolute scream! Spiders in stockings, haunted dolls, terrifying toys for all! Abundant surprises of holly-jolly horror.”

You fold your arms over your chest and raise a curious eyebrow. “He got kinda tunnel-visioned, didn’t he? Wouldn’t listen to a word Sally had to say.”

“Well, of course he did! But who wouldn’t when struck with a bolt of inspiration? Aah, it’s an excellent film. I hope to be just like the great Pumpkin King—strong, exceptional, a master of fright!”

“I believe in you.”

He looks at you as if you’ve just met, blinking owlishly behind his sunglasses, but then he coughs awkwardly into his arm and turns away.

“W-Why, thank you. Your support is very valuable. I shall cherish it in my heart.”

You bend down to open the box, which is full of smaller, rectangular boxes. Ominous graphics, the alphabet, YES/NO, and GOOD BYE are printed on each one. Housed inside are spirit boards. You pull them from the larger box and hand them to Skully, who places them neatly on the empty shelf. He’s humming “This Is Halloween” as he works, perfectly at peace. You think, if given the chance and if it were allowed, he’d choose to live in this Halloween store in a heartbeat.

Has he grown taller since I last saw him? you wonder, observing the way he effortlessly stretches to touch the top of the shelf. Must be nice being tall… Those three have it so easy.

You’re aware that asking for help doesn’t make you weak or prove some outlandish point that you’re incapable. Even so, it’s always a humbling experience when you need to rely on one of them to reach something for you, especially if it’s for another customer who also can’t reach and is thus relying on you to do just that. Curse those tall shelves! You’ll get your revenge one day.

“Sooo. How was your summer?” You glance at Skully, who’s carefully arranging new stock from another box on the shelves. “Do anything fun?”

“It was fine,” he mumbles, noticeably lacking his usual echoing ebullience and theatrics.

“Yeah? Feels like it went by way too fast.” You join him at the shelf and hand him a small, coffin-shaped music box to place with the rest. “You excited for the school year?”

He shrugs and runs his fingers over the lid. You watch those unique skeletal gloves trace the swirls carved into the sides. “It’s school.”

“I guess we feel the same. But you must be looking forward to something. A club, maybe?”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it, humming thoughtfully instead.

“Any friends? Special events? Maybe a specific course you can’t wait to get into?”

“You could say that.” Before you can dig into that lukewarm reply, he’s changing the subject. “What about you? Are you still seeing that one guy?”

“Who?”

“Fingers, was it? The one who had a fascination with your hands.”

“Oh! Salad Fingers!” You laugh at the silly nickname—one you and Skully came up with together based on the name of a show he’d introduced you to—and then punch him playfully. “I can’t believe you remembered that. That was all the way from last year.”

Skully’s lips pull apart in a toothy smile. “With a name as memorable as Salad Fingers, why, of course I’d remember him!”

“He was strange—and not charming-strange. Felt like he was more obsessed with my hands and spoons and all kinds of odd stuff. I thought for sure he’d chop them off and keep them for himself, and then I’d have to steal all of the spoons in his house to fashion the framework for all my missing fingers.”

“It’s not very polite to cage one’s hands and keep them as pets. How else are they to come crawling back to their owner if they’re confined?”

“Exactly! You get it. I’d have to go digging in graves for a new pair, and I don’t think anyone could ever have nails as nice as mine.”

“No, no, you mustn’t disturb the dead where they rest. Rather, allow me to lend you mine in times of trouble. They may not be decorated as brilliantly as yours, but they are reliable nonetheless.” To cement this point, he taps his palm as if in scolding and says, “Treat my darling with the same respect you show me, all right?” And then he balls his hand into a fist to make it talk in a wacky, high-pitched voice: “I’m in your care, (Name)!”

You giggle at the absurdity of it all, which then snowballs into a fit of raucous laughter. Skully stares at the tears gathering on your lash line, his eyes wide behind his circular lenses.

Recovering from that, minding your makeup, you wipe the wetness away and take hold of his gloved hands. “I’m grateful for your assistance,” you say, speaking mostly to his hands.

“Well!” He clears his throat loudly and rips his arms free. “You…can always rely on them. Troublemakers they may be, they shall listen to you because I said so.”

His lips purse in a tight line and he returns to stocking the shelves. He looks stiff and mechanical, more wire doll than person, and it gives you reason to smile.

“Thanks, Skulls.”

“S-So…” He chances a hopeful glance at you. “Salad Fingers is no more?”

You drag a box cutter through the thick tape on the cardboard to break it down. “Dead and gone. Not literally, but you get the point. Here’s to hoping he doesn’t resurrect to bother me on Halloween.”

“Restless as a vengeful spirit.”

“Let’s take the vengeful out of spirit, yeah? I can handle restless, but vengeful’s pushing it.”

He chuckles. “Nothing a simple grave serenade can’t save!”

“Very true.” You fold the box up before moving on to the next one. “That, or a restraining order.”

When you aren’t looking, Skully turns away to celebrate quietly. He pumps his fist in the air, his pale features awash in sanguine delight.

For the rest of the shift, he’s flitting around you like a friendly, gothic butterfly. You think he might’ve missed you (if only you knew!). Absence is known to pack a weary heart full of fondness, after all. When you aren’t stocking merchandise, breaking boxes down, or assisting Rollo at the register, you’re watching Skully interact with the customers. He’s a bundle of energy, eagerly selling all kinds of stories with his propensity for showmanship.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rollo remarks, watching Skully talk a customer’s ears off about his top ten favorite horror films. You notice they’re not very engaged, only nodding to placate, but that doesn’t deter your Halloween-loving coworker. You’re sure if it was possible that customer would have torn their ears off by now.

“If not us, who else is going to bear the brunt of his obsession?” You rest your elbows on the counter while Rollo rings a woman up. “I feel bad. They don’t really pay attention to what he’s saying.”

With each scan, items pile up in front of you. Muscle memory activated, you work swiftly to bag all of them. Your gaze remains glued on Skully the entire time.

“Customers come here to browse and buy, not receive lectures. Many prefer to get through their shopping without unnecessary conversation.”

“Okay, not everyone’s allergic to friendship like you. Personally, I enjoy listening to other people talk about the things they like. It’s fun.”

“Then perhaps it would benefit you to indulge,” he says, tucking the receipt into the register and shutting the drawer.

You roll your eyes and pass the woman her bags. “Maybe I will.”

Come closing, Fellow’s gathered everyone for another meeting. This one is different from his earlier pep talk. It’s a congratulatory chat for a successful shift.

“Excellent work, you three! You’ve done well today and it’s only the beginning! Keep this up. I like what I’m seeing.”

“Thank you, Mr. Honest! We’ll do our best,” Skully promises. The light reflects off his sunglasses, making them appear more beady and insect-like than the hollowed-sockets-in-a-skull vibe he normally goes for.

“Your schedules are posted in the back. Don’t be late tomorrow,” he advises before disappearing behind the counter to tally today’s sales.

“What about fashionably?” you try, leaning against it like a suave, beyond-sexy Casanova. Your efforts are wholly ineffective.

Bright, amber hues flick up to view you briefly. “Timeliness is what makes money. Every second counts, Miss (Name).”

“Ugh. Lame.”

“If it makes you feel any better, we get to work together tomorrow!” Skully turns his phone so that you can see the picture he’s taken of the schedule. “Behold—a devilish duo renowned for their enchanting expertise, paired together just as the stars have divined!”

“Expertise in what? Minimum wage?” But then you snatch Skully’s phone for closer inspection. “Fellow, what the fuck? You gave Rollo off? Tomorrow’s Saturday! You know I always take those days off.”

“Not tomorrow you’re not.”

“Rollo, switch with me.” You round on your roommate. “Please? I can’t spend my Saturday cooped up in here. I need to be out on the town, pretty and perfect, going on dates, living out the rest of my summer free as a bird! Hot girls don’t spend their weekends at work.”

“Your priorities are so abstract,” he criticizes, scowling from behind his handkerchief. “But, yes, hot girls do spend their weekends at work if they care about productivity and paying rent.”

You exaggerate a gasp, your shock resembling that of Edvard Munch’s The Scream. “You think I’m hot?”

Rollo’s pale face explodes with color. You can’t tell if it’s just the product of his anger or authentic embarrassment. “You operate with a surprising amount of self-confidence…”

But you’re not paying attention. You take hold of Skully’s arms and drag him into a giddy twirl. “Rollo thinks I’m hot! Rollo thinks I’m hot!”

He chuckles, welcoming the impromptu dance. “Is that not already a well-established truth? You’re dazzling, my dear. An exemplary enchantress!”

It’s Fellow’s cane knocking against the walls that shatters this comedic scene. All at once, you turn to look at your boss, who doesn’t seem very pleased that you’ve thrown off his count.

“With that, I’ll be taking my leave.” Rollo huffs and stalks towards the front doors. “And I won’t be swapping shifts with you, (Name). I quite like my Saturdays, too.”

“Ugh, fine. Guess that’s the curtain call.”

“I made sure to sign everyone out,” Skully says, trailing after you with long, spidery limbs.

“Thanks, Skulls.”

“But of course!”

“See ya tomorrow, Fellow. Perfectly on time, as always.”

He barks out a chuckle. “Yes, yes. We shall see. Good night, you three.”

“He doubts me now, but wait until he sees me walk in ten minutes early,” you whisper to Skully, elbowing him playfully.

He grins. “I dare say the dead might rise from their graves next, and slashers will let their final girls flee.”

“It’s not that hard to believe! I can be punctual…when I feel like it.”

“When she feels like it,” Rollo echoes, pulling the car keys from his pocket.

“He’s my number one hater. Don’t listen to him, Skulls.”

“My ears are filled with worms.”

“That’s it!” You flash him an approving thumbs-up and skip over to the car. “See ya later.”

“Yes! Farewell—until we meet again! May you sleep peacefully, enveloped in the warmest dreams.”

Rollo buckles into the driver’s seat and turns the key in the ignition. The old car coughs to life, lurching forwards when he takes it out of park and pulls out of his parking spot. You stick your head out the window to wave until Skully’s out of sight.

“Not so bad once it cools off at night, huh?”

“Mm. Indeed.”

“Let’s leave the windows open tonight. This breeze is great.”

“A sensible suggestion.”

You watch the open road as it’s devoured by the moving car. It’s quiet for all of four minutes before you speak. “You think Skully’s doing good?”

“What makes you ask that? Was he not perpetually sunny today?”

“Yeah, I guess. But… I dunno. I asked him about school and he sorta…shrugged it off.”

“Perhaps it’s a sensitive subject.”

“What? School? Come on, Rollo. He’s like an open book.”

“Is he?”

“Well, yeah! We know all about his favorite Halloween franchises. We know the lore for The Nightmare Before Christmas. Hell, I’ve even memorized the songs.”

“Everyone is privy to that knowledge.”

“So what?”

“So it’s impolite to poke around in someone’s private affairs. Would you be partial to a conversation about school?”

“Ew. Gross.”

“Case in point.”

You slump into the seat’s stained upholstery. An accident from a night out that Rollo wasn’t too pleased to see. He is very neat and tidy. You are very not. It’s just one of the many caverns you cross when you share things—the car, your living space, the kitchen… At the end of the day, Rollo appreciates you. He may not always express it, but you know he cares. As much as the both of you get on each other’s nerves, you’re something close to family. Dysfunctional polar opposites, but family nonetheless. You’d do anything for Rollo. Maybe he’d do anything for you, too. At least, you hope that’s his mindset.

“It’s probably nothing,” you mumble, watching the moon as it lights the way home.

But you can’t shake Rollo’s earlier words from your brain: Is he?

Of course he’s an open book! You know Skully. You’ve worked with him for so many Halloweens already. You know he likes everything spooky season, The Nightmare Before Christmas, obscure horror media, and gothic literature. He’s an eccentric guy with an expressive, exaggerated personality. He speaks in convoluted compliments, a young, old-fashioned gentleman. 

What more could there be to a book that’s already been pried open for everyone to read?

You are not ten minutes early. You’re not even ten minutes late.

“Good afternoon, Miss Thirty Minutes,” Fellow greets the moment you step through the doors. He’s flipping through a Halloween-themed interior design magazine—no doubt Skully’s doing—and doesn’t bother to bless you with eye contact.

It’s scalding out there. I could cook an egg on the pavement. Nothing ‘good’ about that!

You throw your arms up in surrender. “Fellow, come on! Cut me some slack. I had to take the bus. Rollo’s using the car. He’s got some student council stuff to take care of for the upcoming semester. Had to be up extra early for their stupid meeting or whatever.”

“It pains me to think a brilliant scholar like yourself could get so held up…”

It pains me I can’t kick you in your rickety knees. 

“It’s too hot for this,” you say instead, brushing all thoughts of violence under the rug.

Skully pokes his head out from behind the curtain to the back rooms, which also functions as a makeshift break room. He’s clutching a small, leather-bound book. The cover is plastered with Jack Skellington’s face. Stickers, mostly. 

“Welcome, welcome, my dear! You look darling as always!”

I feel like a sweaty loser. How is that anything close to darling?

But then his expression shifts into something serious, and the book is tucked out of sight. “You came alone?”

“Do you see Snow Fright torching me with his fiery glare?”

He giggles at the nickname. “You should’ve told me. I would’ve accompanied you as your escort. It’s in poor taste to leave a lady waiting. Why, my heart aches to imagine you there all by your lonesome at the bus stop! If only I was there…”

“Nah, it’s not a big deal. I made it. Might not be on time, but it’s something.”

You trot towards the back to drop your purse and clock in, scribbling lazily on your time card. You notice Skully’s drawn a tiny gravestone and Jack Skellington’s face in the corner by your name.

And literally no one’s here. These next few hours are going to suck majorly.

“I suppose it’s worth overlooking just this once,” Fellow says once you emerge from the thick, velvety curtains. “It has been rather uneventful today.”

“So you do have kindness in your heart.”

“It shrinks every time my precious employee chooses to neglect the time,” he replies in a playful singsong.

“There’s no need to fret, my darling. Mr. Honest’s heart is as pure as crystal waters!” Skully forms a heart with his fingers and holds it up to encapsulate Fellow and then you. “And a pure heart is one full of soft spiders and fluffy fiends!”

What a wild characterization of the boss…

Rolling your eyes, you smooth the wrinkles in your cherry-print sundress. You’d sooner die than wear those ugly, branded shirts Fellow’s calling a uniform. He would nag at you for that all last year until you reached a compromise: You can wear your own clothes (work-appropriate, that is) so long as you pin your employee name tag on. But there’s just no way you’re going to don dark colors and slacks when the sun is piercing through the clouds with enough heat to singe the hair off your body. Again, you’re impressed with Skully’s dedication to the brand. He’s fashionable every shift regardless of the weather, dressed for a Victorian funeral service. You hope to reach his level of commitment one day. 

“So,” you say, peering at the suspiciously empty center, roped off for staff, “what’s going there?”

It’s then when you notice Skully seems to be at his limit, his lips twitching in anticipation. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption. 

“Go on then, my boy,” Fellow says, chuckling at his poorly concealed excitement.

He opens his mouth to take in a big breath and the words come tumbling out all at once. “You’ll never believe it, my dear (Name)! We were blessed with the most fantastic, frightening thing! Or… Well, not a thing. Certainly not! The Pumpkin King is not just any old thing! Why, I would never besmirch his glorious name! Ah, but that’s besides the point! (Name), my dear, today we get the honor of setting uuuup—” he pauses for dramatic effect, dragging the word out— “the life-size Jack Skellington figure! He’s to be the centerpiece for this year’s display. Isn’t that just grand?”

His hands on his cheeks, he squeals like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

“But wasn’t Jack, like, the star the last three years?”

Fellow nods, but Skully steps directly into your path. “And rightfully so! He should always be the star.”

“Yeah, I guess… But what about the other characters? We could switch it up, you know. Maybe Sally and Jack. Ooh, or Oogie Boogie. What about all of them?”

“Oh, that would be divine!”

“Right?!”

You and Skully high-five, mirroring each other’s joy.

“You, my dear, possess a delightfully creative mind. A visionary, one might say!”

“You know it!” You cast your gaze on Fellow. “You’ve got the other figures in the back, right? Can we make use of ’em?”

“That rag doll should be there. Can’t say where the others got off to.”

“And we’ve left her in the dark all this time? Shame on you, Fellow, keeping the Queen locked away in solitary confinement like this. You’re no better than Dr. Finkelstein.”

“And she isn’t just ‘that rag doll’!” Skully gasps, offended. “Her name is Sally!”

“Yeah! Show some more respect for my girl!”

Tutting, you beeline for the back. Skully skips after you, and together you disappear behind the curtains.

“A scavenger hunt mission with my lady! Aah, how exciting! This is just like when Sally was held captive by Oogie Boogie and Lord Jack went to rescue her and Santa!”

“Ah, yeah, that did happen, didn’t it?”

“Twice, actually. In the game—”

“There’s a game?”

“Indeed! The Nightmare Before Christmas: The Pumpkin King. The plot is all about Lord Jack trying to save Halloween Town from being taken over by Oogie Boogie. He wants to turn it into Bug Town!” Skully explains, gesticulating wildly. “He’s not very happy when his Bug Day is ruined, and so he sends Lock, Shock, and Barrel to kidnap Lord Jack—he was his main target, you see—but it’s actually Sally who’s taken instead.”

“So now Jack has to save her?”

“Precisely! And he befriends Sally and defeats Oogie Boogie—and he keeps his throne as Pumpkin King.”

“Can’t dethrone the king.”

“Absolutely not! It’s a masterpiece, really. An astounding timeline woven just a year before the events of the film. Isn’t that spectacular?!”

You hum and open the storage closet, rummaging through the boxes in hopes of finding the right one. Skully’s going on and on about the game and its extensive lore, but you’re too focused on locating Sally to tune in to Info-Dump Radio. You think you see her box, pushed all the way in the back and blocked off by bigger boxes and plastic bins. 

Seriously, Fellow… Organize your shit, you think, reaching over a container packed full of decorations from last year. Your dress catches on the edge of it, and when you stretch it hikes up ever so slightly. Frustrated, you smooth it down to no avail. I don’t get paid enough to struggle like this.

“At the end of the game, Oogie warns Lord Jack that he’ll return and it’ll be a nightmare of a thing! Isn’t that ominous? It foreshadows his role in the movie, which probably would’ve been more interesting if the game came out before the movie. But then that might’ve been awkward timing. Usually, film-inspired games come out after the fact. Not the other way around. Oh, but even if it were the other way around it would still be so—ah?!”

You crane your neck to look at him. His hands are covering his bright-red face, and he’s stammering over incoherent syllables.

“What?”

“Ah. Um. Aah… N-Nothing! Just… W-Well…” His fingers part so that he can peek through them, and he swallows thickly. His voice is squeaky when he speaks next. “P-Panties… Your…panties… Um.”

It’s then when you realize your dress is bunched up, riding up your rear and giving Skully a full view of your underwear. Which are, thankfully, hugging your hips quite flatteringly. The panties themselves? Not so much. They’re what you’d call a lazy pair or a period pair. A pair you aren’t particularly attached to. A pair you wear on days like this so you can shamelessly sweat in them and not have to worry about ruining the fabric. They’re decrepit. The exact opposite of cute.

Part of you wants to snap at him to grow up, but the other part—the part that cares more about your image and how others perceive you—is mortified. 

“D-Don’t look!” you shriek, standing up straight and hastily pulling your dress down.

“I’m not! I’m not!” he promises, still shielding his face. He turns around so fast he smacks into the doorframe. His sunglasses are knocked from his face. “Ack?!”

Shit! Shit! Shit! What the hell is wrong with this day?! I’m cursed!

Sighing, you scrub at the horror prickling your cheeks. Your molten embarrassment is brought to a calm simmer. “Let’s…forget that happened.” Conscious of your dress and its length, you take care when bending down to retrieve his glasses. “Skulls?”

“I’m sorry—terribly sorry! I didn’t see anything, and if I did I’ll will it away—quick as a blink, I assure you. I’ll wipe it from the folds of my brain! I’ll pluck these shameful eyes out and condemn them to a box and I’ll bury that box and I’ll never look at anything ever again!” With his eyes still squeezed shut, he massages his scalp and murmurs in a hiss: “Wiping the memory… Wiping the memory. Forgetting it right now… Don’t remember it… Come on, Skully!”

You watch this melodramatic display with mounting amusement. It’s almost adorable, and it saps the awkward tension from the air, replacing it with something lighthearted. 

“Hey… Skulls, it’s fine.”

“It truly isn’t! I’m a fiend! Aaah! To have looked at you while you were in such a vulnerable, revealing position… Oh, I implore your forgiveness!”

Rolling your eyes, you cover the distance between the both of you and poke his arm. “Hey, it’s okay. No harm done. You can open your eyes.”

“E-Even so…” He fidgets from foot to foot.

“You’re more embarrassed than I am!”

“Of course I am! It’s—your—you…” Orange eyes crack open, and he inhales deeply to settle himself. “I promise you I would never dare look at you in such a lecherous manner.”

“I believe you.” You motion for him to bend to your height and he does. Gingerly, you fit his sunglasses back on his face. “Is your head okay?”

He gives you a bewildered look, which then morphs into one of alarm when you push his fringe up to feel his forehead. “My dear, if I may… W-What are you doing, exactly…?”

“Checking for a bruise or a bump. It sounded like you hit it pretty hard.”

“Oh, that! That was nothing. It’s all well and good.” He forces a nervous laugh and waves his arms about aimlessly. Your arm is pushed away in his anxious scramble. “I’d be wounded if you were hurt in any way, so you needn’t concern yourself with me. Everything is intact up here.” To demonstrate that point, he knocks on his head. “See? My cranium remains undamaged. No cracks here. Full of brains. Not hollow or halved!”

You scrutinize him a moment longer before shrugging. “If you say so… Don’t worry too much. It was an accident anyway. No one’s at fault here, but if we’re gonna blame someone let’s make Fellow our scapegoat. This is his storage closet, after all.”

Skully breathes a relieved laugh, adjusts his glasses, and pats his hair down. “One might resolve to call this mess a means of creatively conserving space.”

“A distinctly Fellow mess. Honestly… Didn’t Gidel organize this last year? What happened?”

Perhaps you haven’t learned from your previous blunder, but you’re already bending over the storage bin once again in an attempt to reach the box at the back. Your fingertips brush the very edge, and you grunt with the effort as you stretch yourself.

“Fuck! Why is it so faaar?” you lament, falling limp against the bin. “Skully, help meee. You’ve got long arms. You could totally reach it.”

“Oh, right! I… I should probably be the one to do that. J-Just to avoid any future mishaps.”

“That might be for the best.”

You step off to the side to allow Skully passage, watching as he very skillfully climbs over the bins with minimal trouble. 

Note to self: Wear cute panties even when it’s burning up outside. You never know when you might accidentally give someone a show. And then you groan quietly. This is so lame. I hope this shift speeds by.

When you and Skully emerge from the back, hauling the large box up front, Fellow lowers his reading glasses at you in confusion.

“You took your time.”

“We can go slower.” You grab hold of Skully’s sleeve. “Let’s go, Skulls. Back to the closet for round two.”

“Very well!” And then he stops, mouth agape once the innuendo seeps in.

You release him and turn towards your semi-benevolent, always-sly boss. “Fellow, you’re great…ish.”

“Oh, you flatter me, dearie.”

“But—heavy emphasis on but—your storage is a wreck. The whole point of storage is to keep things organized!”

“It is organized! Very much so!”

“Very much not so. We fought for our lives trying to rescue poor Sally. Isn’t that right, Skulls?”

“Indeed! ’Twas a battle most fierce!”

Fiercely embarrassing.

“But there’s no foe who could possibly best us! We’re an unstoppable force!”

“Wonderful! I love to hear that!” Fellow claps encouragingly. “Then I assume my favorite unstoppable duo will have no trouble assembling our centerpiece?”

“No trouble whatsoever!” Skully confirms enthusiastically. 

“We’ll do it, but I don’t trust that sleazy smile,” you mutter.

“What sleazy smile? Why, this is all genuine!”

Skully takes hold of your hands and squeezes them. “There’s no need to fret, my lovely. Mr. Honest has entrusted this task of utmost importance to us! We shan’t let him down.”

“Maybe important to you, but I’d rather be doing anything else.” 

“I would like to remind you that you’re being paid to work, not grouse fruitlessly, Miss (Name).”

“You can help, too, you know.” You cast an ineffective pout towards Fellow. “Aren’t you number five in our so-called frightening fivesome?” 

“Oh, but I have! I went through the painstaking trouble to retrieve Mr. Jack Skellington.”

“Gee, thanks for doing the easiest thing. What would we do without you?”

Fellow holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Now, now. You needn’t jump up and thank me so readily.”

“No one’s doing that—”

“Your assistance is invaluable, sir!” Skully beams. “I cannot thank you enough.”

You bring your hand to your face and sigh. Way to be a brainwashed yes-man, Skulls.

“You flatter me. It really was nothing. I’m always pleased to help out where I can. Think nothing of it,” Fellow goes on, basking in Skully’s positive attention.

“Aah, you’re too kind! Is it fate that we would find ourselves here?”

“Destiny, my boy. Destiny! D-E-S-T… Err, probably another ‘e’ or two in there somewhere…”

“Oh, how my heart soars! No longer stiff as a corpse, it flutters freely in the breeze. Truly, your kindness is much appreciated.”

Why is he encouraging him? Honestly… All of you are terrible.

As if having heard your thought, Fellow chuckles and gestures to the empty center. “Now don’t let me keep you from the task at hand. I admire your efforts most sincerely.”

You bite back the rest of your disgruntlement and turn towards the blank, boring space. Fellow returns to his magazine-browsing. 

“So what’s the plan?” you ask, resting your hands on your hips. “Obviously Jack’s going to be there. Now that we have Sally, maybe we could put them side by side and have something resting at their feet. Like one of the plastic pumpkins.”

“And cobwebs! Spiders! A snake here. Perhaps a ghoul or two there… Plenty of pumpkins. Oh, yes, a perfectly spooky ensemble for the Pumpkin King and his dearest Sally.” With a Mephistophelian grin, he crosses his arms over his chest and strikes his infamous pose.

“Yeah! That’s it! You’re seeing the vision.”

With Skully’s assistance, you’re able to pull parts of Sally from her cardboard confines and assemble her so that she can stand proudly with Jack. 

“Look at us! Teamwork!”

“Us…” A dreamy sigh tumbles from his dry lips. And then he snaps back to himself. “Uuuh… Us! Right, yes! We’re a very productive pair. The two of us.” Brittle laughter bubbles up from his chest.

Behind the counter, Fellow slaps his hand against his face and groans.

It takes an hour for the display to come together, but once it does you and Skully marvel at your handiwork. Jack and Sally stand together, their arms spread in greeting, and plastic jack-o’-lanterns are arranged around their feet. Zero pokes his head out from behind Jack, looking just as friendly as he appears in the film. The finishing touch, as Skully dubbed it, are the fake leaves and flowers scattered about—all in colors of autumn.

“What do you think, Fellow? Raise-worthy, isn’t it?”

To further sell it, you do jazz hands. Skully joins you with another dramatic pose. Your stone-hearted boss remains unfazed.

“The only thing raising is my blood pressure watching you ninnies conspire so openly…”

“He loves it,” you whisper to Skully.

“’Twas a spooky success!”

To commemorate it, you lift your phone to capture the both of you in front of the display. You wrap your arm around Skully’s waist to pull him in close. In the photo, a stiff, rosy-cheeked Skully bends down to fit in the frame. He smiles shyly. 

“Allow me,” he pipes up, taking your phone in his hands. “For a better angle.”

“Ooh, good call!”

Together, you pose with your fingers curled into claws and devious, preternatural smirks etched on your faces.

“Now it’s a spooky success!” 

August trickles by without incident, and with the shift in seasons comes new nails. Short and almond-shaped, they’re patterned in brown and white check; both of your middle fingers are adorned with pumpkin-orange leaves. When Rollo asked why those fingers specifically, you flipped both of them and replied with: “So when someone gets on my nerves it’s extra festive.”

Between the start of the semester and your part-time hours at Fellow’s shop, you’ve been swept up in the swamp of busy schedules, lengthy syllabi, and upcoming deadlines. A rush that, while turbulent at times, is much too monotonous for your preferences.

So the sleek car that’s parked right outside the shop is a welcome diversion from what is yet another boring workday.

“Mr. Honest?” Skully calls out, peeking through the glass. “What’s the protocol for big, fancy, out-of-town cars that look like they’re made of money?”

“Big, fancy what?” Fellow rushes to the front from seemingly nowhere, his hands plastered to the window. The car’s doors open to reveal two gentlemen, one in very bright, breezy attire and the other in a simple hooded sweatshirt and jeans. A spark of recognition flashes in your boss’s eyes, only to soon die out and be replaced with a groan of disgruntlement. “Ugh. Not this guy again.”

You join Fellow in hopes of satiating your curiosity with this sudden commotion. “Ooh, it’s the guy! Wait. Who is he again?”

Clearing his throat, Fellow pivots on his heel. “All right, you two, let’s review once more. What don’t we accept from strangers under any circumstance—especially when it’s wealthy strangers?”

“Halloween candy that’s been tampered with?” Skully offers.

“Drugs?”

“Donations!” he hisses, frowning at both of you. “Gracious. And to think schools are meant to nurture those brains of yours…”

“So what’re we gonna do? Turn him down?”

“Of course we are! I refuse to take handouts from someone who has no sense of reality.” He scoffs. “And on the day when my finest, most reliable puppet—ahem, employee, ahem—is out… The skeleton would sooner convert him to his film cult and you…”

“Me…?” you trail off with a sharp smile. “Choose your words wisely, Fellow.”

“I always do. Why, it smarts that you’d think I wouldn’t. I would appreciate it if you could perish whatever thoughts you’re having.”

“Uh-huh. Good save.”

Fellow glances out the window and cringes. “Let’s not dilly-dally over semantics. We need to be in tip-top shape for when—”

The doors open and in walks Kalim Al-Asim, a friendly bell announcing his arrival.

“Ernesto, hi!” He skips over, beaming like the sun. “I’m so happy to see you again! It’s so amazing you’re still doing business here. Actually, I was just saying to Jamil on the way over that you’d do great business back in the Scalding Sands. I could even get my family to endorse you! What do you think?”

“And you flew in…just to tell me that?”

“Not just that! I wanted to help out. This place is so drab—oh, no offense!”

“None taken! It has a certain charm, don’t you think? The dilapidation and the cracks in the brick,” Skully muses, holding his hands over his heart. “There is romance in a haven worn by time.”

“But it could totally benefit from a makeover. That’s why I wanted to give you a small sum for repairs. I was gonna hire a team for you, but Jamil thought it’d be better to leave the creative freedom up to you.”

Fellow puts his whole chest into his laughter, but you’ve worked with him long enough to know it’s an exaggeration. It must sound real to Kalim, though.

“Oh, you’re much too kind, Kalim! I don’t know what to do with you,” he says through clenched teeth.

“No need. I’m just happy to help out.”

“Yes… ‘Help’. That’s certainly a polite way of putting it.”

“Kalim!”

He cranes his neck to view the other man who’s just stepped through the doors. From the look on his face, it’s apparent he’s not too invested in this visit.

“Jamil, there you are! Meet my friends! That’s Ernesto and that’s—I believe Ernesto talked about you before, (Name). Over there’s Skully! We met last time I was here!”

“Greetings!” Skully waves.

“Hellooo there.” You paste a sweet smile onto your face. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. We didn’t get to last year, but I’ve heard lots about you. Any friend of our boss’s is a friend of mine. Speaking of which, Kalim, I sure could use a donation myself…”

“Really?” 

“Mhm. It’s been hard to fish up enough for rent, and with this place being a wreck my poor boss has to cut a few corners with my pay. A shame, isn’t it?”

He gasps. “That’s terrible! Everyone deserves a stable income. Oh, but I understand having to struggle when you can’t afford repairs… Both are equally difficult situations. How much do you need? No amount is too little or too large for me! I want to help everyone here, actually. I’ll fund everyone’s Halloween purchases!” With a joyous laugh, he rifles through his wallet for his card.

“Aaand that’s enough of that!” Fellow gracefully steps in front of you, shielding Kalim from your wicked grin. “I assure you everyone’s pay is completely livable. There’s no need to fret. It stings my pride as a salesman to have my business practices scrutinized so unfairly!”

Jamil appears to be of the same mindset. “Kalim, think about this. You do this every year and Mr. Foulworth tells you the same thing. What makes you think this’ll be any different?”

“But friends help each other out! I want Ernesto to know I’m always here to lend a hand. Gino, too. Is he around?”

“I do believe he’s gone out and about.” Fellow slinks between Kalim and Jamil, his hands on their shoulders. “You’ve only just got here. What’s the rush? How’s about you tour the town? Lots of exciting things to see! Plenty of opportunities to peruse. And souvenirs! You mustn’t leave without them. A sleepy town is only sleepy if its tourists aren’t awake and seizing the day!”

“Well, when you put it like… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look around.”

“So come along now. Follow my lead. Hi-diddle-dee-dee!”

You and Skully watch your boss, who’s singing a very catchy tune, as he guides them through the doors with a pep in his step. The last thing you hear is Jamil’s mournful groan and then the trio are gone.

“He seems nice,” you muse, joining Skully behind the counter just as a customer walks up.

Skully chuckles. “The shop’s personal patron saint!”

You hum your agreement and set to work totaling the customer’s items, punching buttons on the register. Skully works to bag them as they’re handed to him.

“Ooh, an excellent choice!” he notes, holding up a strand of Halloween garland. “Very terrifying. You’ve scary taste.”

She gazes up at him like he’s a shooting star arcing across her sky. “O-Oh. Um. Thanks!”

Skully smiles and places it in the bag with the rest of her items.

“I remember you from last year, a-actually. It’s good to see you again.” With timid motions, she stuffs a few crumpled bills into your outstretched hand. It’s when she looks up to receive her change that she notices the tag pinned to his winged lapel. “Oh, your name is Skully.”

“Indeed. Skully J. Graves, at your service, dearest customer.” Plucking the receipt from you, he offers it to her with a cordial bow. “Might I know your name, lovely miss?”

She mumbles something incomprehensible, flounders like a fish out of water, gathers her bags under her arm, and ducks out in a hurry. Skully frowns at the sad slip of paper left unclaimed.

“A pity. She neglected to take her receipt.”

Slack-jawed and wide-eyed, you stare at him. He isn’t oblivious, right?

Right?

“Skulls, there’s no way.”

“Come again?”

“Holy shit. You actually don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” He stares at you, puzzled.

“That girl was totally into you!” You nudge him with your hip, a suggestive smirk twisting on your lips. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

“When you say ‘into me,’ do you mean…”

“She likes you.”

“Ah. Um… Well, I’m flattered, but I’m certain there are far more eligible suitors for her. B-Besides…”

“Don’t knock yourself down, man! You’re a good-looking guy with a charming personality and cool fashion. No surprises you’ve earned yourself an admirer.”

You flinch at the sound of a harsh slap. Skully’s gloved hands cover his cheeks and his mouth twists into a flabbergasted ‘O’.

“You… Y-You think I’m pleasing to look at?”

“Sure. You’re, like, super tall, too.” You lift your hand to approximate his height. Definitely-taller-than-you is your deduction—whether in centimeters or feet, it doesn’t matter. “And those sunglasses—the crown! Kinda hard to forget all that swag.”

Laughter whistles through the gaps in his teeth. You cut the conversation short to attend to another customer—a father with two kids, both of whom appear to be in fierce debate about the best Halloween movie. When he thinks you aren’t listening, he mumbles the same few lines to himself: “She thinks I’m pleasing to look at… Me. Pleasing.”

“Find everything okay, sir?”

“Not everything. An answer to their never-ending debate would be appreciated.” He gives you a look that suggests you hold the key to this subjective question—or a lie that’ll satisfy both of them enough to refrain from bickering on the car ride home.

Gesturing to your Halloween-adoring coworker, you smile at the children. “You should speak to an expert about that.”

“Yeah?” One of them peers up at Skully with intense, take-no-prisoners scrutiny. “And what do you think’s the best Halloween movie?”

“The Nightmare Before Christmas, naturally!”

“Whaaat? No way. That’s a Christmas movie.”

“Nuh-uh,” his sister interjects. “It’s a Halloween movie.”

“No! A Christmas movie.”

“Halloween!”

“Christmas!”

This new argument seems to age their father, who wilts before you like an abandoned, rotting house. “Come on, you two. No fighting.”

“Why can’t it be both? For all of their differences, holidays do one very important thing. Would you like to guess what that is?”

“We get candy and gifts!” they answer in unison.

“That’s a beautiful benefit, of course, but holidays bring friends and family together. You should always be grateful for those you hold close. Your loved ones are irreplaceable.”

Somewhere in the middle of his lecture the children decide it isn’t worth it to prattle on about their Christmas-Halloween discourse. Their father strings the bags along his arms and beckons them towards the doors with a whistle. They stick their tongues out at you and Skully before waddling after him.

“That was…not as effective as I had hoped.”

“Don’t sweat it. Kids’ll be kids. They’ll learn that lesson at some point.”

It’s then when Fellow finally drags himself through the doors. The exhaustion that blankets his body makes him seem older than he is. He’s muttering something to himself, bushy brows creased in exasperation.

“Ernesto, huh?” you tease once he’s within earshot.

Fellow rolls his eyes. “Please. I never thought I’d shake that ball of energy… Don’t you start using that name. That era of mine’s done and dusted.”

“What’s this? Sounds like incoming Fellow lore.”

“Hardly.”

“Ooh, do go on!” Skully rests his elbows on the counter.

“You scholars sure do take interest in the most arbitrary details.”

“Can’t call it arbitrary if the story behind it sounds extraordinary.”

“Preach it, Skulls! Come on, Fellow. Fess up. Sharing is caring, as they say.”

He stalls around a noise that swiftly smooths out into a syllable of delight when he spots Gidel, who seems to be struggling to reach a shelf. “Would you look at that? I’m needed elsewhere, and you’ve got customers. Toodle-oo!”

“How quickly he flees…”

“More mouse than fox, no?”

That elicits a chuckle from you. Your boss has all the makings of a sly fox, but when it’s necessary he excels at playing prey.

The humor dissipates as soon as a familiar face approaches the counter and, rather than carrying merchandise for check-out, he brings a bad attitude and resentment aged by separation.

“Looks like you’ve gotten uglier since I last saw ya.”

You look into the face of Salad Fingers, an ex-boyfriend who was never really a boyfriend to begin with. He was more akin to an accessory or an extra pillow you would hug in bed, additional warmth for a restful slumber. More of a convenient dick appointment than anything else.

“I think you meant to say prettier.”

“I didn’t stutter, did I?”

You can’t help laughing at the absurdity of his logic, or lack thereof. His confidence in such an insignificant insult, which could never cause you any true damage, is astounding and almost inspiring. 

“I’m guessing you’re not shopping for a second chance, so have fun looking around. Maybe one of those monster masks will cover up all of your…ick. Oh, wait, I forgot. You once said, ‘if it’s broken why bother fixing it,’ right? Silly me. That was—what?—your ingenious catchphrase?”

“And it still applies to you. Stuck at this dead-end job every year. You’re never gettin’ outta this town, (Name).”

“At least I have a job. You’re still bumming off your folks like a baby. If I were you, I’d focus on graduating from diapers if you ever wanna feel like an adult.”

His jaw clenches, and frustration flashes on his face. “That all you got? Petty bullshit?” 

“It’s all you came in here with. I’m just returning the favor. Oh, wait. Maybe all of this is too complex for your baby brain to comprehend. Want me to dumb it down for you? Will that help?”

“That’s it. Get over here, you bitch!” It looks like he might lunge for you, and you can only brace yourself for the fight or the flight—whichever your body responds to first.

Nothing happens. You remain rooted in place.

Skully slides between you and the counter, his arm outstretched, to intercept Salad Fingers. You don’t intend to cower behind him—rather, you’d much prefer throwing yourself into the ring and defending your honor with your fists—but with his skyscraper height it might as well seem like surrender on your part.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” he spits venomously, all the whimsy drained from his tone. His orange eyes are narrowed sharply behind his sunglasses. “You’re being disruptive, so I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Sooo sorry, Prince of Darkness. I’d better be careful, or else you’re gonna cast a spell and sacrifice me to the woods. I’m sooo scared.” He rolls his eyes. “This doesn’t involve you. This is between me and her. Move aside.”

“So you can continue to disrespect her? I think not. Once more, I’m asking you to leave.”

“You’re all bark, no bite. You might be tall, but you’re skinny enough for me to snap ya in half. If you don’t wanna crawl outta here with broken bones, move. Last chance.”

Skully straightens his shoulders, a knight standing for his cause. “Don’t burden my lady with your foul mood.”

Salad Fingers pulls a face at that. “Your lady? I dunno why you’re defending her like you’re her boyfriend. Wait, is that it? Do you like her? Well, tough fuckin’ luck, dude. She’ll eat your heart if you aren’t careful. Leave it in complete shambles. Save yourself while you can.”

“That’s enough!” You step out from behind Skully to frown at Salad Fingers. “You couldn’t have put this mess in a text? Coming into my workplace to harass me about it is so limp-dick-lame. It’s been a year. Let it go.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t ghost me. That’s all you’re good at. Running away like a weak, pathetic—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, asshole!”

Your anger now at a raging boil, you wind your arm back in preparation to knock the teeth out of his mouth. But then a toy hammer comes down upon your head, a painless shock that throws off your aim and leaves you sputtering in confusion. You whirl around in search of your attacker. Held up in Skully’s arms to meet your height, glaring so fiercely you think he wants to set you on fire, is a very unhappy Gidel.

Skully sets him down then. He grabs the hem of your shirt and drags you away from the counter, just in time for Fellow to waltz over and play his part as pacifist. 

“What do we have here?” your boss muses, feigning a jovial disposition in an effort to diffuse the situation. “You, my good sir, seem to be in quite the pickle.”

“What? No. Get lost, old man. I’m just here for—”

“It’s your first time shopping here, is it not? I’d recognize a memorable face like yours—yes, I would! Come along. Allow me to show you around. There’s lots to see!”

Turning Salad Fingers towards a display, Fellow sends a furtive glance towards Gidel. The two seem to understand this silent communication. It’s lost on you and Skully.

“Hey! Let go, Gidel. I’m not gonna hurt him.”

Gidel gives you a disbelieving look.

“Okay, so maybe I was gonna kick him. Just once.” He still isn’t buying it. “Okay, twice. I was gonna kick him twice. Three times, actually. He deserves it, Gidel! I know you wanted to hit him with your hammer, too. Do me a solid and lemme get one punch in. Just one!”

He shakes his head. You sense you won’t get very far no matter how much you beg, so you swallow your dignity and allow him to lead you into the back room. Gidel tugs at your shirt and you obey his wordless command, seating yourself on the floor like a good, obedient prisoner.

“How long am I in jail for, warden?”

He smiles and holds his hands up.

“Ten minutes?”

But he doesn’t reply, parting the curtains and disappearing from your sight. Moments later, he’s pulling a very willing Skully through the doorway.

Once Skully’s folded himself on the floor, Gidel points to a group of boxes with his hammer. You flash him a confident thumbs-up, to which he nods his satisfaction, and then he’s gone. Now it’s just you and Skully, and you attempt to lighten the mood in the only way you know how.

“Welcome to jail, accomplice. What’re you in for?”

Skully laughs, but it comes out short and hollow—like it was ripped from his lungs. He retrieves a box cutter from the table and runs it through the tape on a nearby box. You watch him fish around in the contents, his gloved hands brushing along strands of Halloween tinsel.

“Skulls?”

“Are you okay?” he blurts, looking you square in the face.

“Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“But that awful guy—”

“Standard behavior from Salad Fingers. Nothing new. Don’t let what he said get to you. It’s all nonsense anyway. Seriously, though. We shouldn’t have jinxed it that time. Talk about bad luck…” With a huff, you use your nail to peel the tape off an unopened box. “I can only hope Fellow sells him a bunch of stuff at exorbitant prices. I’m telepathically channeling my revenge through that silver tongue of his.”

Despite the humor threaded through your words, Skully isn’t amused.

“I don’t understand,” he says, drumming his fingers against the cardboard flaps. He sits with his legs criss-crossed. Despite his height, he looks and sounds small and fragile when his barely audible mumble reaches your ears. “If you love someone, why would you ever want to hurt them?”

“Some people are just assholes,” you reply, sifting through the cheap Halloween trinkets. “And he doesn’t love me. He’s just salty he’ll never get attention from my perfect, beautiful hands.” You flash your palm at Skully and waggle your fingers.

“But you don’t deserve to be treated that way. No one does. That’s not the kind of fright you’re supposed to give someone on Halloween. It’s about contemplations of mortality and monstrosity! Nightmares and fear galore! And yet that was…”

“It’s whatever.”

“It’s not just…whatever.” His bottom lip juts out in a petulant pout. “Not to me.”

You pull a foam sword from the depths of the box and point it at him. “Thanks for standing up for me back there.”

“Oh, but of course!”

As if knighting him, you move the sword from shoulder to shoulder. “My hero, the ever-so-gallant Pumpkin King.”

Skully blinks at you, color quickly seeping through his pale face. And then he slaps his hands over his cheeks. “Whoa. Whoa! Waaah?! That’s an honor—n-no, not just an honor! The highest honor. The honor of all honors! To be called that… Oh, it’s just like Lord Jack! How flattering!”

“Dreadfully flattering?”

His lips purse together in a silent squeal. He pumps his fist into the air in celebration.

You laugh and bump his head with the sword. “Never change, Skulls.”

A bashful smile slants across his lips. “Um… If I may… That comment Salad Fingers made—about you being stuck here in town… Do you truly dislike it here? Are you going to leave?”

“Who said anything about that? That loser doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” You scoff. “The whole reason I came to this crummy town was to escape. As far as I’m concerned, I’m here to stay.”

“Escape? I’m not sure I follow.”

“I ran away from home when I was seventeen. Actually, the more accurate version is that my dad kicked me out and I was homeless for a time. It’s just easier to say I ran away instead of having to admit he didn’t want me around anymore.” With a sheepish chuckle, you lift a Jack Skellington snow globe to capture Skully in the wintry scene. Through the glass, he sends you a sympathetic frown. “Along the way I met Rollo and we both came from difficult situations, so it made sense to stick together. We hardly knew anyone back then. Same with Fellow and Gidel. All of us were fresh out of whatever mess we’d just survived and looking to start over. Fellow needed workers for his business and we needed money to pay rent. The rest is history.”

Skully runs his finger through the grout between the tiles. “I never would’ve imagined. You seem so comfortable here.”

“You think? I guess I’ve settled in. I mean, things are definitely stable now.” You set the snow globe down and pull a shield from the depths of the box. It’s placed beside the sword at your feet. “I wouldn’t trade this misty town for anything. It’s weird and there’s probably a cult hiding in the woods, but that’s what makes it fun. As eccentric as it is, it’s home.”

“So… You’re not leaving?”

“Nope! You’re stuck with me forever.”

Skully gasps, a giddy smile widening on his lips. “Oh, what splendiferous joy!”

“Yes. Splendiferous indeed,” Fellow parrots, looming in the doorway with a reproachful grimace. “What a relief he’s nothing more than a brainless brat with a foggy future—if scum like him are even worth a future.”

“Fellow, my favorite boss, who is so full of love and appreciation for his employees—”

“Miss (Name), I cannot believe you would resort to violence. Use that brain of yours next time! It’s one of your biggest assets as a scholar.”

“What was I supposed to do? Make him answer a riddle? Solve for x? Be real.”

Fellow folds his arms over his chest.

“Mr. Honest, if it’s worth anything, might I be permitted to come to (Name)’s defense? That barbaric brute started it.”

“Yeah! Skulls is telling the truth. He was barbaric. Super mean. He called me ugly! Are you really going to let a criminal like that get away without a beating or some sort of public humiliation? I say we shame him to the grave.”

Fellow massages the bridge of his nose, exaggerating a weary sigh. “Is today destined for doom? Goodness gracious… I swear, if one more hellion makes their way into my store—”

At the very front, the doors burst open and a loud voice reaches the three of you.

“Ernesto? Where did you—oh, hey, Gino! It’s nice to see you again. How’ve you been? Have any idea where Ernesto might be?”

You jump to your feet and pat your despairing boss on the shoulder. “One more hellion, huh?”

“At least he’s a kind hellion,” Skully consoles.

“That’s the worst kind! Ugh. This happens every year. You’d think he’d take the hint by now. Must I carve it onto the walls? Never mind that. One of you chase him away. Get the broom if you must. I want him out.”

“I’m on it.” You skip through the curtains. “Ohhh, Kaliiim!”

“Ah! Wait for me, my dearest!” Skully scrambles after you.

“And no donations, you two!” he shouts, but the reminder doesn’t reach your ears.

Defeated for the day, Fellow collapses into a chair.

Somehow you and Skully manage to convince Kalim—that is, signal to Jamil—that a certain Ernesto Foulworth, while grateful for the offer, is going to have to turn it down. In your brilliant wisdom: “Double it and give it to the next person.”

And now you wave after them as they depart. Kalim tries to turn back twice, but Jamil stops him and says something you can’t parse through the windows. If you had to guess, it’s likely something along the lines of, “You heard what they said. Mr. Foulworth isn’t interested.”

“’Twas a shame you couldn’t get any donations for yourself.”

“Nah. Don’t sweat it. I got something even better.” Grinning, you lift your phone to show off Kalim’s contact. “Nothing wrong with long-distance friendship. And if he wants to send me some money… Well, who am I to turn down our patron saint?”

Fellow’s cane knocks you upside the head then. “And good riddance.”

Hissing through your teeth, your hand cradling the back of your skull, you turn to look at him. He’s joined by Gidel, who watches with a dopey smile. “If it isn’t Ernesto, back from hiding. Good to see you again, Gino.”

Fellow flashes his canines at you. “Ha-ha-ha. It seems you won’t need me to sign your next check, nor will you need Gidel’s assistance the next time a rowdy brat disturbs the peace.”

“Now wait a minute. No, don’t do that. I’m a scholar, sure, but not when it comes to forgery!”

“Just as I thought.” He smirks and twirls his cane. “Now back to work. We’ve a few more hours to go.”

“We’ll do our best!”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s just get this day over with.”

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you return to your place behind the counter.

Rollo is sitting at his desk when you enter the student council room, absorbed in his work. A shiny placard with his name engraved on it winks back at you. President Rollo Flamme. Very official. He messaged you shortly after classes ended for the day, citing that it was important you meet him, and now you find yourself here in this empty classroom. The lack of student body makes it feel bigger than it actually is. 

“I got your text. What’s up?”

He looks up from a stack of half-read documents and ducks down to rummage through a drawer. A familiar journal is placed on the desk. One look at the many Jack Skellington stickers pasted to the cover clues you in to the owner’s identity.

“You’re scheduled with Skully today, so I’d like you to return this to him.”

“Sure, but why do you have it?” 

“He left it at the shop yesterday.”

“And you just took it?”

“Would you rather I have left it with that shady Fellow?”

You roll your eyes at the implication he’s making. “Fellow doesn’t give a shit about what we do outside of work. Besides, I doubt there’s anything written in there that he’d wanna read.”

“Even so, it never hurts to be careful.”

“Ooh, what’s this? The Rollo Flamme looking out for a friend?”

“Not a friend. A colleague.”

Falling into a nearby chair, you prop your feet on his desk. He clicks his tongue at you, brows creasing in disgust. It’s an expression he doesn’t bother to hide behind his handkerchief. He doesn’t have to when it’s just you.

“Let’s see what Skully writes during his breaks.”

“I don’t think it’s very wise, much less respectful, to pry in his personal affairs.”

“So you care.”

Rollo bristles. “From one diary owner to another—”

“Just a tiny peek. He’ll never know. And if it’s bad we’ll just pretend we never saw anything.”

“I want no part of this mischief.”

“Too late! Into the mind of Skulls we go!”

You crack the book open to a random page. A few lines of poetry are scrawled within. The rest has been scribbled over until it’s illegible. You clear your throat in preparation for the dramatic reading.

“‘I once thought Halloween was a time defined by repentance and fear. I thought there was no better music than that of gales howling through trembling trees. That there should be no celebratory cheer. But there was someone who changed my view. Someone I now hold very dear. Lovely, wonderful you.’ Ooh, this is cute. What else is there?”

You turn back a few pages and select a new poem. Rollo frowns, but he doesn’t make any movement to stop you. Not yet.

“This one looks neat. ‘Her Majesty is popular with the guests strung up in her silk. Every side character written in for temporary trysts, soon to be discarded, a faux fairytale sealed with a kiss. I can’t help pondering, perhaps there is more to her story that I’ve yet to witness. Perhaps she, sitting solitary on her throne, is lonely just like me.’”

“Are you finished?” Rollo plucks the journal out of your hands before you can read more about a figure called the Spider Queen. “And please remove your feet from my desk. It’s unsanitary and uncivil.”

“Fine, fine.” Pouting, you pull your legs from the desk and plant them firmly on the floor. “Happy?”

“Quite.”

“You know, Skulls isn’t half bad at poetry. I was expecting worse.”

“Hmm. There’s certainly potential.”

“How come he’s never shared any of this with us?”

“Would you be willing to spill the contents of your heart at work?”

“Fair point.”

“It’s very him. Genuine. Ebullient. A caricature of gothic brilliance.”

You’re inclined to agree. His prose matches his fashion style and personality so well it’s almost as if they’re meant to be a singular package. Pieces that fit together to form the portrait of Skully J. Graves. You can even hear his voice in every stanza, and for a moment you picture him reciting these lines center stage beneath a flaxen spotlight.

I always knew he liked poetry, but I didn’t know he wrote it. What else does he like?

You know of his obsession with Halloween and Jack Skellington, his fascination with the macabre and morbid, and his love of horror media. But those are facts everyone learns when they meet Skully.

Have I never asked him about his hobbies?

“He’s going to fall for you if he hasn’t already,” Rollo warns like it’s inevitable, casually flipping through the pages to peruse the rest of Skully’s poetry.

“Shut up. Anyone could be the Spider Queen he’s writing about. And where is this coming from anyway?”

“Hmm.”

“It’s not me, Rollo. You know how he is. It’s probably a character from a horror series or something.”

“‘But if I could just explore part of her, lavish her soft, slick epigyne with kisses, I might come away with sweet, sticky gossamer. A secret to dye my lips, stamped proudly on her hips.’” He glances at you, brows raised. “Well?”

“So what? There are people out there who fuck fictional characters. My point still stands. It’s not me.”

“It could be you. You’re not exempt from that possibility.”

“Gimme that! I thought you said it was wrong to snoop.”

Snatching the journal from him, you skim the remaining lines. Beautiful, waltzing cursive, a script that could only belong to Skully.

The Spider Queen, who I admire most ardently, is an unsolved mystery.

Her sharp spinnerets are skilled and sturdy.

She can hypnotize with honey-coated song,

All while wrapping me, hopeless fly, in her web of guise.

Perhaps my affections are misplaced and wrong.

But if I could just explore part of her,

Lavish her soft, slick epigyne with kisses,

I might come away with sweet, sticky gossamer.

A secret to dye my lips,

Stamped boldly on her hips.

“You started it,” he argues.

“And I’m going to finish it. He’s not into me. Not like that.”

You hope to dispel that same theory with more of his poetry. It does the exact opposite, much to your dismay, bolstering a notion you’re beginning to suspect is true. 

Won’t you let me know just a little death,

Under pretty, pointed fingertips, my darling Spider Queen?

Your voracious appetite never before seen.

Starved is the connection of our chelicerae as we exchange breath, 

Affections of the heart left unsaid,

Her Majesty, my darling Spider Queen, is unhinging her jaw to devour my head.

And then another poem. This one is filled with even more lyrical longing. 

To lay you down on silken sheets,

Melt slowly like candle wax with me,

Flickering flame, smoldering heats,

Soft sighs, bare vulnerability, the likes of which angels have yet to see.

I wish to remain here in the clouds evermore with you.

It doesn’t have to be romance,

Even if I yearn desperately for your heart to be true.

All I ask, if you’ll indulge me, is a simple moonlit dance.

You slam the book shut. “That’s enough of that.”

“I’ve told you before,” he says, and the corners of his lips curl into a satisfied smile. “If you’re going to follow the whims of illicit curiosity, you ought to be ready to face the consequences when they come knocking.”

“None of this is about me.”

This time, much more hesitantly, you peel the pages open and land on a journal entry. It’s dated during the year he first started working at Fellow’s shop.

I’m not quite sure I like (Name). Our ideas of what makes a true Halloween are staggeringly different, and she’s much too obnoxious. Who in their right mind would dare besmirch the ghoulish goodness of Lord Jack Skellington?! There is no such thing as ‘sexy Jack Skellington.’ There is only scary!

You cringe at the surfacing memory. That’s what you dressed up as for Halloween that year. Sexy Jack Skellington. It was also Skully’s first impression of you when you met and you dragged him and Rollo to a Halloween party in the woods. Judging by what he’s written, you weren’t held in high esteem after that introduction.

We definitely won’t get along. It’s impossible! We’re much too different. I refuse to act chummy with someone who will never understand the true meaning of Halloween. There should be no decorations or noisy displays. It’s quiet and solemn!

“Ha! So he doesn’t like me after all.”

You point at the passage so Rollo can read it. He glances up from the page.

“That’s an old opinion. I highly doubt he feels that way now.”

“He might. He sounds super pissed in this entry.”

“I still think you shouldn’t make a conclusion yet. That’s like solving a crime based on mere assumptions. You need evidence—lots of it.” Rollo sighs. “My entries have certainly evolved over time. It’s likely the same for Skully.”

“So I’ll prove it.”

“You’ll prove his dislike for you?”

“Exactly! Wait, that phrasing kinda hurts…” You shut the journal and stow it within the depths of your messenger bag. “I’ll prove he only sees me as a friend. There.”

“And how do you plan to go about that?”

“Simple. I’ll ask him out and spend the day observing him. It’s Skulls. How bad can it go?”

Before Rollo can criticize your intentions, you’re skipping out the door. 

“See you later, Prez! Don’t forget to pick me up after my shift!”

You and Skully make it to the shop together and you’re both surprised to see the other. You’re so used to Skully’s timely arrivals and he’s accustomed to your I’ll-get-there-when-I-get-there schedule. 

In other words, he’s always early and you’re always late. Predictably so.

“Good afternoon to you, my dear! It must be fate that we find ourselves here at the same time.” As if celebrating it, he takes hold of your hand and kisses your knuckles. “What wonderful fortune.”

Rollo’s got it all wrong. This is normal behavior for Skulls. 

“If Fellow asks, that was definitely planned. And  before I forget—I’ve got something for you.” At that, he perks up like a dog awaiting a treat. You rifle through your bag and withdraw his journal. “I think this belongs to you.”

Skully gapes at the book in his hands. And then, with an ecstatic gasp, he hugs it close to his heart. “I thought I lost this! Aah, I’m so relieved. You have my gratitude.”

“Rollo’s the guy to thank. He said you left it lying around after yesterday’s shift.”

“That’s very possible. It was much too busy yesterday. I missed—we missed you—could’ve used the extra help, yes! That.” He chuckles awkwardly and holds the door open for you.

“Man, that’s rough. I’m not sure what’s worse—the rush or no customers at all. Business or boredom. Either way, glad you survived.”

He smiles and trots in after you.

Gidel welcomes you both with a cheery wave from where he sits on a stool at the register. Fellow’s right at his side, poring over an upside-down newspaper. 

“Greetings, dearest Gidel! Mr. Honest!”

“Heyyy, how’s it going, you two? Guess who’s finally on time? Me, that’s who! That’s gotta be worth employee of the day, at least.”

“The crown is yours,” Fellow replies, holding his hand out to offer you the invisible trophy. “No one was seriously vying for it anyways.”

“Has it been busy today?”

You round on Skully. “Shush! Never say those forbidden words.”

“Ack! My deepest apologies!”

“No, no! Please continue. If anything, those are the right words,” Fellow says, folding the newspaper away. “We need as much business as we can get. October is fast approaching. Manifest it or whatever you kids say.”

“Don’t worry so much. I’m sure we’ll get even more customers come October. I don’t need to charge my crystals for that.”

You vanish behind the curtains to drop your bag in the chair. You make quick work of your time card and then pass the pen to Skully, who scrawls the time in for today’s date. He seems normal enough, but then why wouldn’t he be? He’s always joyful and affectionate. You’ve explained this to Rollo on multiple occasions. Why he would even theorize something as asinine as Skully having a crush on you, you can’t say. But no matter what you’re going to prove him wrong. Because he is. Very wrong.

Skully doesn’t have feelings for you. Even thinking it sends a shiver right through your heart.

“We should hang out,” you declare, turning to face him.

“Hang out? As in, outside of the shop?”

“Yeah. Get lunch. Go shopping. Whatever you wanna do.”

Skully’s mouth drops open. “Truly? You want to do all of that with me?”

“Why not? I think it’ll be fun.”

“Indubitably!” Having recovered from his previous astonishment, he flashes his pearly whites at you in a dazzling, gap-toothed smile. “Where shall we meet? There’s a bookstore on the other end of town, and I know of a cozy café that’s sure to be a delightful time. Ooh, this is so exciting!”

“How about a day when we’re both off and available?”

“Next weekend, perhaps?”

“Sure! Sounds like a date.”

“A… A date,” he repeats, pronouncing the word carefully. “A date… What a magical word.”

His swooning prompts a giggle from you. “I look forward to it.”

Skully grabs your hands. “I promise you, my lady, it will be a most pleasant day! I won’t disappoint you.”

“You never do.”

Skully’s cheeks are set aflame. “T-Thank you sincerely for saying so. I’m flattered.”

Just then, Gidel parts the curtains and pokes his head inside. A knowing smirk darkens his face with mute mischief.

You read his expression wrong and separate from Skully at once. “I get it. The boss wants us up front. Would hate to keep him waiting.”

With that, you slink off to meet Fellow at the counter, leaving Skully to chat with a curious Gidel.

“Somehow I get the feeling it’s going to be Valentine’s Day whenever you ninnies are scheduled.”

“Why? Because you love us so much and we’re your favorite employees?”

“Because the way you look at each other is sickeningly fond.”

You narrow your eyes. “Ew. Gimme a break. You sound like Rollo.”

“He isn’t wrong.”

“He literally is. I don’t know why everyone seems to think that.”

“Seems to think what, exactly?” Fellow asks, wearing his best smug smile. He produces a pair of circular frames from within the satin folds of his rich, royal blue coat and balances them on his nose. “Step into my office for a most astute consultation. I’m sure we’ll find the direct cause of your ailment. Gidel!”

Like clockwork, Gidel comes rushing out. He’s stuffing a piece of paper in his patchwork pockets, and you catch the hints of a heart drawn and partially colored in with crayon. The rest is crumpled.

“Let’s assess the patient! My trusty assistant, your notepad, if you will.”

He holds it up proudly.

“Uh, let’s not? I’m perfectly fine. No armchair doctor needed.”

“Now, now! That simply won’t do. Denial is just the beginning—a symptom of what’s to come!”

Those words sound more ominous than they’re meant to be, but a quick peek at the scribbles acting as Gidel’s notes relaxes you.

“You, my dear, are suffering from quite the malady. Isn’t she just, Gidel? Why, it’s as obvious as the sun in the sky, isn’t it?”

He nods hastily in response. Fellow takes hold of your arm and scrutinizes it like it’s a precious artifact. Humming his consideration, he presses down on your pulse and then yanks it up to his ear as if attempting to listen to your heart through your wrist.

“Hmm. Very interesting… Ooh, quite the rhythm you’ve got going! A steady thrum-bum-bum-thrum! What do you make of this, Gidel?”

He plucks the notepad from his hands. Despite the fact that nothing of substance has been recorded, Fellow manages to glean a diagnosis.

“Yes, just what I assumed! You are on the precipice of love.”

“The precipice of what now?” Skully blurts, having just emerged from the back.

“Ah, what a timely arrival for our Prince Charming. He’ll administer the cure.”

“Okay, relax. No one’s on the precipice of anything. Pack it up, drama club.”

You rip your arm out of Fellow’s grasp and storm off towards a shelf. Maybe arranging the stock will give you some peace of mind. There’s no love or feelings or any of that mushy-gushy Valentine’s Day stuff here. You and Skully are just friends. He isn’t interested in you like that and vice-versa. It’s mutual. 

Right?

For most of the day, when you aren’t dealing with customers, you’re turning that one-word question over in your head. It becomes so suffocating that you can’t endure another second indoors, so you retreat outside for a smoke.

“Hurry back, dearie,” Fellow calls out, and you have a suspicion that if he wasn’t working he’d join you.

It smells of wet earth when you open the door and step out into the crisp, late-September afternoon. The overcast sky opens up to fall in dreary drizzles. You shut your eyes briefly to appreciate the musical pitter-patter against the roof while you fish a cigarette out from its coffin. Your thumb flicks against the spark wheel until a flame flashes to life. It takes a few attempts, but you manage to successfully light the tip.

I guess he’s not the worst guy to be paired with, you muse, inhaling deeply and holding the breath for three. You rest your head against a wooden support pole and exhale a curl of smoke.

It shouldn’t matter when it’s just a harmless joke, and yet you can’t stop dissecting it. Under any other circumstance, you’d have no issue turning down a lovestruck boy. But Skully isn’t just any (allegedly) lovestruck boy. Maybe it’s because you’ve worked together for so long that the idea of Skully with a crush isn’t so far-fetched.

I’m not stupid. I know opinions change over time. If he didn’t like me, I’m sure he’d make it obvious. He doesn’t seem like the type to fake his feelings. Open book.

But is he truly? You only know Skully through work. You’ve never gone out of your way to get to know him. Everything you know comes from tidbits you’ve picked up over the years. Basic facts like age and hobbies have come up in conversation, but you never thought to ask anything deeper. Like what he does in his spare time when he isn’t obsessing over horror and Jack Skellington. Or where he shops for his gothic wardrobe. Or what he’s studying in school. 

You don’t even know if he has any other friends outside of the shop.

Suddenly, you’re not so sure he’s an open book.

This fucking suuucks. Why am I even bothering with this gloomy shit? He’s not the first guy to fall for me, and he won’t be the last.

Would it be so bad if he was the last, though?

Skully has potential, far more than most people you’ve toyed with in the past, but something tells you he’s not the casual type.

Don’t think about it. It’s not worth it.

Thankfully, a familiar voice breaks your concentration—how long were you laser-focused on the worms wriggling out of the soil?—and you don’t need to dwell on it any longer. 

“What’s this?” Skully peers down at you from his place in the door. A metal awning protects him from the chilly curtain of rain falling just inches in front of you, allowing you to smoke mostly dry.

You almost quote the song out of habit—the entire soundtrack is carved into your cortex, courtesy of Skully. Instead, you take a drag from the cigarette poised at your mouth. Skully watches, entirely ensorcelled, as smoke curls from your pitch-black lips. Cheap lipstick you often swipe from the SFX and cosmetics section in Fellow’s store. He can’t fire you for stealing because that would mean he’d have to find another employee willing to overlook his dubious business practices. Hard to score someone who fits that criteria in a town as small as this one. 

“What’s up, Skulls?” You pat the space at your side.

“I noticed your absence and thought I might search for you.”

“You found me.”

“That I have.” He lowers to sit next to you. “Have you come to admire the rain, too?”

“You could say that.” You offer your cigarette. “Wanna share?”

He blinks at it, confused. “How does one go about…that?”

“Like this.”

Cigarette at your lips, you inhale another drag, hold it briefly, and then exhale. Thin trails of smoke float skywards, perfuming the air with all kinds of pungent notes: warm and comforting, earthy and stale… Skully tilts his head and watches the cloudy haze blanket the space between the both of you.

You try to hand it off to him next. “You try.”

He jerks back, startled out of a daydream. “I… I’m meant to…to put my lips on the same place…as you?”

“Where else?” 

Skully’s Adam’s apple bobs with the motion of his swallow. “R-Righto. Of course. That makes perfect sense.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, but I must!” he insists. He places his hands against his cheeks and swoons. “Aah, how romantic it must be to indulge in the rain like this! It makes me want to recite a few lines of poetry or perhaps reminisce about rain storms past!”

You laugh. “Hey, that reminds me! I got a new case a while back. I think you’ll dig it.”

Passing the smoldering cigarette to Skully, who receives it with a grateful hum, you dig through your pocket for the aforementioned case. He’s enamored with the lipstick stain curled around the end of it, so much so that he doesn’t seem to register the sharp sound of your snapping fingers.

“Skulls?”

He meets your stare, cheeks tinged pink. “Eh? Ah… Um. Y-Yes? You were saying…?”

“Check it.” Quite proudly, you hold the little purple casket in your palm. “A coffin to keep all of my cigarettes. Fits the Halloween vibe and it has morbid irony.”

He nearly chokes on his drag, shocked and amazed in equal measures. “That’s positively dreadful!”

“Isn’t it just?”

“The detail on the lid is most exquisite. True craftsmanship.”

“I thought so, too. It’s perfect for spooky season.”

He smiles and breathes out a wheeze of smoke. The rest sticks in his throat and it brings on a coughing fit he struggles to stifle. Sympathetic, you rub his back. 

The droplets hit the gravelly ground in splashes, and the rest play a musical, metallic plink-plonk along the warped awning. Defeated, having relinquished the cigarette, Skully pulls his legs into his chest and rests his chin on his knees.

It’s a scene full of tranquility. You wonder if you should break it. You’ll need to eventually. Too much silence and you’ll spiral into your previous worries.

Should I? There’s never going to be an optimal time for this.

“I read your journal.” Like ripping off a bandage.

I have to. He needs to know the truth. I feel bad. He’s so transparent and honest. It’d be wrong to lie.

“Just the poetry,” you add, as if rubbing cream into the sting of truth.

Okay, he doesn’t need to know the whole of it.

His entire body goes rigid. The air thins out, charged with anxiety.

“What did you think?” Skully asks after minutes of unbearable silence. He traces a wobbling path along the crooked stitching in his suit.

“It’s very impressive. You’ve got a way with words.” You nudge his tense shoulder. “I never knew you were a poet.”

“Um. I… I’m not exactly… I merely dabble,” he mumbles.

“But you’re so good! Way too good to ‘merely dabble’. Don’t be so modest, man!”

Skully hides behind his hand, turning away so that you won’t see his flustered face. You wonder if anyone’s ever praised him as openly as he praises everyone else.

“If it’s okay, can I ask about the Spider Queen? She sounds so cool.”

“She is.” You can’t tell where his eyes are fixed behind his sunglasses, but if you could see them you’re certain they’d be brimming with stars. “The coolest.”

“Is she a character from a book? A film? Something related to The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

“She is. Sort of. Not really. Or… Um.”

Skully turns to face you, only to reel back when you’re right there, so close it’s reminiscent of a spider looming over the unlucky insect stuck in its web.

“Really? Which one?”

“Your illimitable curiosity flatters me. I wasn’t aware of your avid appreciation for poetic expression.”

So it’s not me. Ha! You were wrong, Rollo. Suck my dick!

You shrug. “I slept with a guy who was all about it. Practically lived and breathed sonnets.”

“Is that…an undesirable trait?”

“Nah. It was fun. He was great in bed—amazing with his mouth. Maybe the open mic nights did that.”

You bump shoulders with him, to which he chuckles woodenly. “Perchance.”

A rap at the wall causes you and Skully to jump out of your skins. Like puppets on strings, you turn at once to view Fellow in the doorway. By the unsmiling expression on his face, he doesn’t look very happy to have caught the two of you shirking your duties.

“Snogging’s over, lovebirds. Wipe your mouths and get back to work.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry for having fun without you, boss.” You snuff your cigarette in the muddy gravel. “If you want in, just say so next time. You’re missing out on prime participation points.”

“The capacity in my lungs is so small I can’t seem to find my laughter.”

Skully, who has jumped to his feet, extends his hand like a Victorian gentleman from olde. “What say you, my darling? Shall we rendezvous at a later date for amorous osculation?”

A grin breaks out across your face. You place your hand in his, allowing him to pull you up. “Not here, though. Stuffy, old Fellow put the ban on tonguing it.”

Despite his lighthearted tone, Fellow’s eyes are devoid of smiles. “As a pair of extraordinary scholars, I’m sure your extensive education has taught you the important phrase ‘there is a time and a place,’ yes? So there’s a time and a place for studying each other’s anatomy just as there’s a time and a place for making money. Customers await, my oh-so-astute assistants!”

He coaxes you through the door rather impatiently.

“We’re going. We’re going. Damn!”

For the remainder of your shift, the rain persists. Normally this wouldn’t have posed a problem…if you came in the car. As you wipe down the counter, maneuvering around a preoccupied Fellow, who scrutinizes the register and taps at a calculator at his side, your hopes for a break in the rain dwindle.

“Is that everything, Mr. Honest?” Skully asks once your boss has finished his calculations.

He does a brief once-over of the store and then runs his index over the counter to inspect for any dirt. “Well, would you look at that? The two of you are quite efficient, as expected of my dynamic duo.”

Skully gasps and slams his hands on the counter. “We’re dynamic?!” he whisper-squeals. 

Fellow gazes over his glasses at his hands propped on a perfectly clean counter. With a sheepish, apologetic chuckle, Skully withdraws.

“Sure, kid. Whatever hangs stars in your sky,” he replies, noncommittal.

“Yes!” He pumps his fists in the air and then folds them over his chest to swoon. “Yes!”

“We’re free to go?” you call out from the back, time card in hand.

Skully flashes you two very enthusiastic thumbs-up and you make quick work of signing yourselves out.

“It’s been fun, Fellow,” you announce, blowing him a mock kiss.

“Yes, yes. Good evening to you. Study hard and all of that.” Fellow follows you to the front, swinging his keys on his finger and humming a merry tune.

Skully holds the door open, and the moment you’re both outside you’re assaulted with rain and wind. The door locks behind you and the lights inside dim. It’ll take a while for Fellow to close the register and complete everything he needs to do as boss, but that doesn’t concern you.

“This fucking rain,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself and peeking out into the night.

I thought it would’ve settled down by now. I really hope it doesn’t storm.

You fish your phone out of your pocket and call Rollo, who answers on the second ring.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Rollo!” you hiss. “Get your ass over here! I’m cold, wet, and very much car-less.”

“It’s raining.”

“Gee, thanks for that, Mr. Obvious. You wanna tell me my pussy’s pink next?”

He doesn’t say anything in response to your catty sarcasm. Seconds stretch into minutes. You pull your phone away from your ear to see he’s hung up.

“That asshole! I’m going to… Gonna… Ooh!” You stomp your foot and stuff your phone in your pocket. “I’ll crucify him and then put him out in the middle of town square so everyone can point and laugh and throw tomatoes at him.”

“My dear?” Skully’s hand falls gently upon your shoulder. He’s been so soundless you almost forgot he was standing next to you.

“Sorry.” You huff, but the breath sticks in your throat the minute lightning arcs across the sky. It cuts through the trees in a brilliant, jagged flicker. Right on cue, seconds later, thunder rumbles forebodingly. “O-On second thought, maybe I’ll wait inside…all the way at the back of the store, where it’s dark and I won’t have to look at any windows, and I can cover my ears and block out the sounds.”

Skully looks at you strangely, brows furrowed. He watches you struggle with the door, a gloved finger tapping thoughtfully at his chin.

“Could it be,” he says, peering at you with more intention, “that my dear is afraid of thunderstorms?”

“Wha—I’m not scared! Of that? Please.” You jut your thumb at the sprawling treeline, where the trunks melt away into mountain peaks and then a cloudy expanse, and flinch when the sky thunders again. The rain continues its steady downpour. Gritting your teeth, you grind the admission out even though it hurts your pride. “Okay, fine. Yes, I’m…scared. I…  I don’t like storms or loud noises or lightning. I hate it. Always have.”

“Ah.”

“Lame, isn’t it?”

“Of course not. It’s human nature to be afraid. Everyone is scared of something, even myself.”

“So what’s your fear?” you ask, hoping his is lamer so that you won’t feel so childish.

Skully hesitates around a reply. Just before he can tell you, a loud boom shakes you to your core. Someone up in the clouds is having fun slamming pots and pans together… You’d send them your most vicious glower if you weren’t on the verge of crying. Hoping to dispel some of your fears, you tap at your phone.

Come on, Rollo. Please pick me up. I’m sorry I was a bitch, but I really need a ride. Please. I don’t even have my wallet on me.

Orange eyes track your every movement. He inhales once, clenching and unclenching his fists. He takes another breath and then…

“‘Hey there, cutes, put on your dancin’ boots and come dance with me. Come dance with me. What an evening for some Terpsichore!’”

Taking pause, you glance up from your screen at him. “What’re you…?”

Skully steps out into the rain and turns with a flourish, his arm extended. “‘Pretty face, I know a swingin’ place. Come on, dance with me! Romance with me on a crowded floor!’”

Wary, you eye him from where you’re fidgeting under the awning. Your phone finds its home in your pocket, the text unsent. Rain patters the roof. It isn’t loud enough to drown out the distant thunder or the encroaching crackle of lightning. Skully projects his voice only slightly to guide your attention away from those things.

“‘And while the rhythm swings, what lovely things we’ll be sayin’!’”

You take a few deep breaths in through your nose, rub your arms consolingly, and join him for musicless karaoke in the rain.

“‘And what is dancin’ but makin’ love set to music…playin’!’”

You close your hand around his and belt out the lyrics, uncaring to whether or not you sound good. You just want to shake off these nerves. Having sensed that, Skully spins you closer and smiles joyously.

“You know the words!”

“Of course I know the fucking words!” Laughing, you slap his chest. Skully smiles wider. “I love this song! Michael Bublé’s version is like sex but for your ears.”

His face lifts in amusement. “It’s not a duet, but perhaps we might make it one?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’d like that.”

“I trust you’re familiar with what comes next?”

“Obviously!” You squeeze his hands. The chill of the rain can’t compare to the warmth of comfort slowly spreading through you.

Don’t think about the storm. It’s going to be okay.

“‘When the band begins to leave the stand and folks start to roam! As we wing home, cheek to cheek we’ll be…’”

Your voices mix together in sweet, screeching harmony for the next part: “‘So come on, come on, come on, come on and dance with me!’”

Thunder resounds then and you yelp, clinging to Skully out of instinct. You realize your proximity seconds later and jerk back. He takes hold of you in a position for an upbeat ballroom dance, and you stumble after him when he pulls you into the one-sided rhythm. You’re spun energetically, rain shrouding your visage and clinging to your lashes, and you scrabble for purchase when he releases you. You trip into a dramatic pose, your shoes skidding on the slick ground. It’s unintentional, but it earns you verbal applause from Skully.

“That’s it! Marvelous!” His laughter isn’t mocking. It’s threaded through with thrill, so infectious it paints a goofy smile on your cheeks. “‘Hey there, sweets, throw on those Latin cleats, and come dance with me! Oh, what I mean is, come on and my, let’s…’”

“‘Cha-cha-cha!’” you shout over the rumbling and grin at him.

He spins you towards him, his hand curled around your waist. You kick up mud and specks of stone as you dance together. Eventually, your shaky voice smooths out into something less frazzled the more you immerse yourself in the theatrics. Now you’re pulling Skully along, and he eagerly settles into your tempo. 

“‘And leave your sweat and do the bongo bit. Come on, dance with me!’”

“‘Romance with me, ooh-la, la, la, la, laaa.’”

“‘I don’t care what it has ’cause that jawbone jazz makes me move it.’” As you sing that line, you bump hips with him.

“‘And we charade when the band starts to groove it. They prove it.’”

“‘Come on by ’cause we’re all set to fly, and I’ll let you lead. If that’s agreed, you know where I’ll be.’”

You squeeze his hand and he reciprocates by spinning you into a low dip. The sudden switch leaves you clutching even tighter, your leg lifting as gravity shifts. Skully’s hand splays across your back to hold you in this position. Even though you know he would never let you fall, you still dig your nails into his shoulder. He giggles boyishly and hoists you onto your feet.

“‘So come on, come on, come on…’”

“‘Come on, come on, come on…’”

“‘Come on, come on, come on. Come and dance with me!’”

The both of you come chest to chest, your fingers intertwined and bodies pressed together like dried flowers in a book. It’s a magical moment punctuated by the rumbling sky and falling rain. Even when lightning flashes through the clouds, you focus on your reflection in his sunglasses. Your faces proceed to inch closer with every verse.

“‘We’ll do the cha-cha-cha.’”

“‘Ooh, the merengue!’”

“‘We’re gonna tango,’” you say, putting on a comically deep voice.

“‘Come on and dance with me,’” he finishes, holding the last note with a wide, adoring smile.

Mere centimeters are between you; if you shuffle in you could close the gap and—

And then a car honks at the both of you, and you flinch away with startled shouts. Caught in the bright headlights, your shadows spattered against the brick building, you lift a hand to shield yourself from the harsh glare and rain. You manage to spot a very unamused Rollo in the driver’s seat, and for once you couldn’t be any happier to see your grump of a roommate.

You abandon Skully’s side and throw the door open. “Rollo, you came!”

“I wasn’t going to leave you to walk home in this awful weather.”

“So you do love me. If I wasn’t so soaked, I’d kiss you right here, right now.”

“There’s no need to overdo it. A simple ‘thank you’ will suffice.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thank you very much, Mr. Chauffeur.”

You climb into the back and, realizing you’re a person short, poke your head outside.

“You coming?”

Skully’s shivering just as much as you are, looking more bug-eyed from this distance. He points to himself, as if asking: Me?

“We’ll give you a ride.” You look towards Rollo, who seems ready to agree to anything so long as he can get back on the road. “That’s fine, isn’t it?”

“He’ll catch his death otherwise.”

“Oh, no, it’s quite all right!” He waves his hands in objection. “I appreciate your kind offer, but I could never burden—”

“Get in the car, Skulls.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The door shuts after Skully boards. Now you’re both sitting huddled in the back, shoulder to shoulder. Rollo pulls out and onto the road. Your sodden clothes cling to your body in a way that makes you feel as if you’ve just been shrink-wrapped. The toasty heat does nothing to chase away the chill in your marrow, but the music softly spilling from the radio boosts your mood.

“My dear, I would hug you and offer my warmth, but I fear that might make it significantly worse,” Skully says, teeth chattering.

“Why didn’t the both of you wait indoors?”

“Uh, why didn’t you get here sooner?” you shoot back, fishing around for a blanket.

“I didn’t have to come at all.”

“Okay, all right. I’m in no position to fight you on that.”

“A romantic musical number in the rain never hurt anyone, Mr. Rollo.”

“Maybe not, but you’ll get sick if you aren’t careful,” he advises, glancing at Skully in the rearview mirror. He watches you drape the blanket over him.

“Ah, live a little, Snow Fright.”

“I am, and as it happens I’m not looking like I’ve just sailed the Seven Seas.”

Unable to craft a clever retort, you stick your tongue out at him. Skully adjusts the blanket so that it envelops you as well, and you sidle closer to conserve warmth—if any can be found when you’re both sopping wet. You rest your head against his shoulder and shut your eyes, relieved to find the lightning and thunder have abated. He stiffens and peers down at you from where he sits stock-still.

“My dear?”

But your tongue is so heavy in your mouth that you can’t muster an answer. Exhaustion wraps itself around your brain like a cotton shroud.

“Thanks for looking after her,” Rollo says, but his voice and the soft notes spilling from the radio sound like distant murmurs.

“You needn’t thank me, Mr. Rollo. I shall always be present to protect and serve my lady. All I hope for is her happiness.”

What is this, a period drama? Isn’t that way too knightly?

“I’m sure she appreciates that.”

Very much, you think, and you drift off enveloped in the coziness of his care.

“If I may, what might you be planning to dress up as for Halloween?” Skully asks during a particularly uneventful lull.

The lot of you are crowded behind the counter, bored out of your minds, and his question is a welcome distraction from the nothingness.

“I’m not dressing up,” Rollo replies, not looking up from his book. “I don’t celebrate.”

“Don’t listen to him,” you interject, waving your hands before Skully can launch into his why-Halloween-is-the-superior-holiday-and-everyone-should-appreciate-and-celebrate-it lecture. “Rollo and I are matching costumes. I’m gonna be a succubus and he’s gonna be my priest!”

“Absolutely not.”

“What?! Come on, Rollo, pleeease? We’re a duo—a two for one sorta deal! You can’t bail on me like this. Every exorcism needs a demon, and every demon needs a priest. Oh! How about this instead? You can be the angel and I’ll be the devil!”

“I’d rather not.”

Pouting, you review the picture on your phone: A scanty, latex one-piece with stockings, a clip-on devil tail, and matching horns. “Look at this cheap, definitely-not-gonna-last-after-Halloween masterpiece! Who’s gonna match my biblical freak if not you?”

Rollo glances up from the passage in his book to spy the costume. “I assume the angel costume is just as revealing, so my answer remains the same. I’ve no interest in matching any sort of freak, biblical or otherwise.”

“But that one will be robes. There’s a halo and wings, too. It’s perfectly virtuous, Mr. Righteous and Holy.” You bat your lashes at him. “Please? Pretty please? I’ll cover all the cleaning and cooking for November—”

“I don’t understand,” Skully interrupts, squinting at the screen. “Where are the horrors beyond human comprehension? The claws? The gnashing fangs or the blood and gore dripping from a gash in the stomach?! This just isn’t…terrifying.”

“That’s the point. It’s supposed to be sexy, not scary.”

“What for?”

“Uh, so I can get laid? Can’t do that if my costume scares the guy soft.”

Skully glances from the phone to you and then back, as if attempting to comprehend your vision. He must’ve landed on something, for his face burns brighter than an apple. “O-Oh, righto… I see now. Very… Very clearly do I see the…intention.” He clears his throat just as you pocket the device. “And then you bite off the head, no?”

“What?”

Even Rollo, who has gracefully benched himself from this conversation, raises a bemused brow from behind the pages of his book.

“Like a praying mantis! She devours the head of her lover after they mate. Isn’t that romantic? Even in death, they remain part of one another. Aah, the insect world is filled with alluring examples of creepy-crawly consummation.”

“Sexual cannibalism’s pretty popular in the animal kingdom, isn’t it?”

He nods. “Quite the macabre fascination, I’d say.”

“So what do you think, Father Flamme?” You nudge Rollo. “Priest is still on the table. Or do you wanna be the unfortunate bug between my jaws?” You fix your fingers into curled claws and swipe at him. “Want me to make a meal out of you?”

He glares at you, half of his sneer now hidden behind celestial patterns. “None of those ideas are on my table.”

“Boooo. You’re so boring! Where’s your Halloween spirit?” With a dramatic sigh, you fall back into Skully’s arms. He holds you steady, allowing you to play out your mourning as if it’s an act in a melodrama. Draping your arm over your face, you exclaim, “Woe is me! Who else will entertain my spooky whims if not my kind, selfless roommate who loves me oh-so-much?”

You hazard a glance from under your arm. Rollo isn’t swayed in the slightest, but then you’re not about to give up either.

“Who’d do anything for me because, despite being a hard-ass, he cares a lot. I see the love in your stone heart. You can’t hide it from me and my all-seeing, all-knowing eyes!”

He sighs. “Must it be me?”

“You’re the one going to the Halloween parties with me so, yeah, it must be you.”

He finally decides to snap his book shut. Tucking it beneath the counter, he says, “Costumes aren’t mandatory, so I see no reason to fret over minute details.”

“Well, you should treat it like it is. It’s one night for a few hours and then you won’t have to give a shit about the ‘minute details’ until next year. You’ve gotta come with me. It won’t be Halloween without my angel.” You straighten up in Skully’s arms and lean towards Rollo to whisper, “That’s you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re never going to convince me. I hope you’re aware your pestering will earn you nothing but my ire.”

Pouting, you slump over the counter. “So harsh… And you’d look so cute with your halo. Am I gonna be flying solo for the first time in forever this Halloween? The café au lait to my croissant has abandoned me! Can you believe this, Skulls?”

“Enough of that. I never said I wouldn’t attend the gatherings,” Rollo chides, clicking his tongue at you.

Immediately, you snap to attention. “Wait, for real? You’re the man, Rollo! Are you sure you’re not actually an angel? This guy’s seriously seraphic!”

Before he can evade the shadow of your appreciation, you throw your arms around him. He relents, all too familiar with your physical affections to bother with protest, and reciprocates with a pat to your shoulder.

Skully, who has witnessed this spectacle and remained strangely silent throughout it, barks out a laugh. It’s strained and unnatural. “You seem very close.”

“We are, aren’t we?”

Your arm moves to wrap around his waist, and you drag Rollo closer despite his obvious discomfort. But then the connotation of close catches up to you and that takes precedence over every other feeling.

“Not in the way you think,” Rollo corrects, shaking his head.

“Yeah, we’re close but not that close. He’s my best friend. I couldn’t ever imagine him as anything else, but if it comes down to it we’ll totally be roommates for life. Rollo’s a certified ride or die!”

“She’s my roommate, so I have no choice but to tolerate her. How will rent be paid otherwise?”

“As you can see, I’m very cherished. You can tell because he called me his roommate.”

“Um, but isn’t that technically what you are? Unless…” Skully gasps and looks between the both of you in a panic. “Unless you’re already more than that?! Roommates for life…” He points as if accusing you of witchcraft. “That’s marriage!”

“And we haven’t even held hands yet,” Rollo mutters wryly.

With a scandalized gasp, you shove him. “Rollo, you slut!”

“All this time…” Skully’s mumbling, his hands tugging at his hair and leaving his crown askew. “Right before my eyes, my darling’s heart rests within the palms of another… How could this happen? How could I fail to see it—to chance upon such covert courtship in this soul-wrenching way?”

Sensing his seriousness, you settle your laughter. “Whoa, whoa! Slow down, Skulls. Don’t burn us at the stake!”

“I rescind my previous remark—made entirely in jest, you ought to know.”

“We’re just messing with ya, man. No romance here. Platonic vibes only. I’ll be the first to tell you that.”

“And I, the second.”

“So there’s really nothing?” he asks, hopeful.

Rollo gives you that look, and you signal to him with your own secret scowl: Don’t utter a word.

“Nothing you need to worry about, no,” he says instead, duplicity warping his thin-lipped smile. “(Name) remains lover-less. How fortuitous for you.”

“I think he gets it. No need to put me on blast.” You push Rollo out of Skully’s sight, which hardly achieves much when he’s so tall, and rush to change the subject. “Anyway, what about you, Skulls? What’re you gonna be for Halloween?”

“Something truly fearsome.”

You and Rollo wait for an elaboration, but when he doesn’t follow through you start to nod. “Uh-huh. That’s…vague. So are we talking monster-fearsome or something with serial killers? Jack Skellington?”

An ominous grin cuts into his cheeks. “You’ll see.”

“We all will,” Fellow announces, approaching with Gidel at his side. “I’m giving Halloween shifts to everyone here. And, yes, that includes you, dearie.”

“Fellow, do you know what day Halloween falls on this year?”

“Saturday.”

“And everyone’s going to be out. No one’s coming to the shop.”

“That’s what you think! Do you know how many pestiferous devils like to target my shop?”

“Sorry you’re an old man who can’t run fast enough to catch those devils.”

He scoffs. “I resent that!”

“If you’re a fan of dressing up for Halloween, might I offer a suggestion? You can be the considerate boss who gives his employees the day off. It’s a holiday and a Saturday.”

“For once, I must agree.”

“See! Even Rollo agrees and you know he never agrees to any of my ideas.”

“Only when they’re good ideas,” he adds, smirking behind his handkerchief.

“I’d fire you both if I could,” he grumbles, shaking his head in disapproval. “Skully, my boy, surely I can count on you to show up?”

“Um… Actually, Mr. Honest, I thought I might accompany my dear and Mr. Rollo to their Halloween soirée.”

“Wait, what?” you and Rollo parrot in perfect unison.

“Not that you can’t join, Skulls, but parties aren’t exactly your scene. No offense.”

“Yes! Listen to Miss (Name). What good will a mindless party do? Working the holiday shift will teach you plenty of valuable life skills. You don’t need some…party for that.”

“I’m certain I can learn them every day before and after Halloween, but this special day only comes once every year. I mustn’t squander this opportunity!”

Before Fellow can offer a valid counterpoint, Gidel tugs at his coat. He regards him passively for a perplexed beat and then his expression falls.

“Don’t tell me you want to galavant through Dante’s Inferno, too.”

“You make it sound like one day of no work is hell.”

“It is for my business. Honestly, you ninnies are so simple-minded sometimes.”

“Is your reason not just as simple?” Rollo argues.

“Come on, Fellow. Let the kid go trick-or-treating.”

“You must! It’s what our dearest Gidel deserves. A scary night full of memorable fun and treats.”

Gidel nods rapidly.

Fellow hesitates around outright acceptance and instead deflates with a huff. “You’re all dead to me.”

“Hell yeah!” You exchange high-fives with Skully, Rollo, and Gidel. “Master negotiators! Go team!”

“More like monstrous manipulators.”

“I wouldn’t describe us as such just yet. We haven’t even broached the subject of holiday pay. If you schedule any of us for Halloween, you must be intending to pay us accordingly.”

Your boss grits his teeth, and you think if Rollo were to nudge him any further he’d shatter. Instead, he spins with a flourish.

“We shall discuss that as we get closer to the date!”

“Wanna bet he folds and leaves us off the schedule for that day?” you whisper, bumping hips with Rollo.

“I quite like my odds, so I might have to accept that proposal.”

While you and Rollo scheme amongst yourselves, Skully watches with a fading smile.

second part.

[illubean]

Heyyy, so I’m like reaaaally tall and I wanted to ask if you’d be comfortable with writing headcanons about the Phantome troupe (or just feitan, uvogin and Hisoka) with a tall fem!s/o? Like 6’2 or 6’3 , cuz I really like your other headcanons and I can’t find any of those ANYWHERE… :,)

Phantom Troupe w/ a Tall!Fem!Reader

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Uvogin Type: Headcanons, Fem!Reader

Haven’t written hxh for a hot minute… replaced Hisoka w/ Chrollo cus I don’t write for him! also reader is intended to be in the 6’0+ range

Warnings: a tad suggestive?

Chrollo Lucilfer

I personally think Chrollo is a certified tall girl lover

never be afraid to wear heels/platforms around him because he’s literally obsessed with you

his favorite thing ever is when you wear shorts/skirts/anything that shows off your legs

if anyone tried giving him shit for having a gf who’s taller than him he doesn’t care because thats little dick energy and Chrollo is NOT part of that club

tall or not he likes having you in his lap, his palms resting on the outside of your thighs or around your waist

who cares if it looks silly to other people? he adores you

he insists on helping you put on/take off your shoes every time, often pressing a kiss to your ankle and telling you how pretty you are GAHHH

touchy touchy man in private, always laying on your lap, caressing your thighs or offering you specifically leg massages

he may or may not be a teeny bit of a perv

he just can’t help it :(( he wants to spoil his tall baby

we already touched on the shorts and skirts thing but this guy goes NUTS if you wear stockings/fishnets/thigh highs etc. like YESSS THANK THE LAWD

he is not above getting on his knees and quite literally worshipping you, kissing up the length of your leg

ok let me stop before i get freaky

Feitan Portor

oh boy

Feitan is already used to being relatively shorter than people, it wasn’t new to him

but he didn’t expect to get with someone DAMN NEAR A WHOLE FOOT TALLER

you guys are like the big and friendly x small and scary ship dynamic except reversed gender role i guess

as previously mentioned in another headcanon post i did similar to this, Feitan likes being shorter than you for 2 main reasons

1. so he can sneak up on you easier and 2. because he’s practically eye level with your chest..

he likes it when you hug him so he can just faceplant into your rack then blame it on the height difference

he likes to sneak up on you and watch you nearly jump out of your skin because you literally didn’t see him coming

he’s not at all insecure about your height difference but he does get annoyed if you or anyone else teases him

if you tried leaning an arm atop his head or something he would dodge you with a scowl and give you the silent treatment for the next 10 minutes because how dare you!?

he is small but mighty, so if you ever try to pick him up or something he WILL fight back

9 times out of 10 you end up splayed out on the floor while he stomps away, a little salty

but he doesn’t mind so much in private

he actually DEMANDS to be the little spoon

he likes the feeling of having your larger form wrapped around him :3

Uvogin

yeah so no matter how tall you are you’re probably never ever going to be taller than this guy soz

he’s like over 8 feet tall

so needless to say your height doesn’t matter much to him..

but I think he probably has a preference for taller women because it just makes things easier for him

also wtf would it look like if this guy was dating someone under 5’4…it would look suspicious even if they’re an adult……..

so yeah he like’s that you’re tall even though you’re still pretty short compared to him

he likes that he has easier access to kiss you instead of having to lean down ridiculously far (even though around 2 feet is still kind of ridiculous…)

another one who likes it when you show your legs off

to be fair, he likes it when you show skin in general but yeah

cannot keep his hands off you ever

he always has an arm slung over your shoulders or if you’re sitting his insanely large hand is resting on your thigh

he doesn’t shy away from pda ever and it kind of annoys some of the other troupe members..

but yeah you guys are giants in love <3

[arminzblackbimbo]

i’d rather be with you

blackfem!reader x suguru getou

tw: mdni, arranged marriage, breeding kink, he's freaky deaky, oral (fem r.), sitting on face, kinda misogynistic mindset, he talks you thought it, lots of kisses, talks of pregnancy, toes in mouth, fingering, he’s kinda crazy + cocky, reader calls him suguru + ‘guru, + geto, squirting, lots of pet names baby + doll + sweetheart, midsize fic , and bad spelling !!

you sit on your brand new bed in your wedding dress

suguru has taken you back to the mansion he was gifted for your marriage. the grand house coming with chefs, maids, and servants. everything a new couple needs and aspires to have. he has too much money, enough to have you not even thinking about anything else when this marriage was arranged. being told he just needs someone to stay by his side to further his career. really no one knows he is a hopeless romantic, he just wants someone to love and take care of. someone to continue life with

your newlywed husband taking off his cufflinks with his back to you preparing himself to take his wife to bed. your nervous knowing what's done after his clothes are discarded. your no virgin, but suguru is intimidating. he is pretty but he is scary. his handsome features pull you in putting you under hypnosis when he turns to face you "doll you’re shaking like a leaf" he observes you, seeing you nervously shiver in your skin. wringing your hands scared to speak in case your voice waivers.

he stalks towards you, locking eyes with you when you look up at him, your so gorgeous his heart stops for a little bit. you feel his strong hands hold the sides of your head. craning his body over you to makes soft kisses along your forehead. "my beautiful, beautiful wife" he already feels for you deeply. you make his stomach fill with butterflies. he can’t believe he found the right person to be with

he lets the kisses linger, your skin becoming covered in goosebumps. savoring the feeling, he suddenly softly lays his forehead on yours locking eyes with you again, you stomach sinking at the actions. it’s so intimate, the words just slip out. “i love you” his voice whispers, your eyes just widened at his affectionate. you barely know him, how can he love you already ?

he doesn’t care that you don’t respond he has enough love in his heart for the both of you. lifting his head to look down at your body, the dress conceals your skin from him. he touches the white material rubbing it between his fingers “will you let me undress you sweetheart ?”

he waits for you approval fingers snaking to assists you out your gown when you nod your head. unhooking your dress in the back, so he can slip it off of you. breathing hard when he just see your underwear underneath. he is so amazed with your body already and your not even fully naked. "your hips are perfect" lightly smiling while he outlines the shape. his hands squeezing there too. the smile having an intent you didn't even realize.

it almost makes your skin crawl with how creepy it is. moving his hand so he can rub your stomach in a circular motion almost like he is fantasying, adoration in his eyes. he's thinking deeply about something. kissing you on your temple. "i want you to carry my children" you nearly jump out your skin when you look into his wild eyes and see the seriousness

he is slightly scaring you "but sugu- " your eyes widened, just barely married to him after the many, many arrangements and he wants you to have his kids. you can’t even wrap your head around it. he grips your cheeks together to quiet you

"you're my wife, you will have my babies" he is stern. making sure you knows his intentions and plans. your mouth moves and you can't even say anything you just nod your head with your mouth agape. he likes seeing you submissive. slowly taking off the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare for his eyes to marvel at . “you’re so perfect” he twirls you around looking at every square inch his eyes can see

taking your hand leading you to the wide bed. laying you on top of him. aside from the kiss at the alter you’ve had no other kisses or touches. he takes your breath away when he gives you a firm kiss. lazily sticking his tongue in your mouth as he works his tongue with yours. groaning when he grabs your soft skin. he can’t believe he convinced you to marry him. even if he used his money and status, he is happy he caught you when he did. he will do whatever it takes to keep you by his side

he is breathing hard when he pulls away from your sugar like lips “sit on my face baby” you look at him puzzled, youve never done that before. it’s something new, he can see your wide eyes, he is growing to love that frazzled look. he responses before you even get a chance to say anything “i’m your husband, i’m here for your pleasure” massaging your soft skin to give you encouragement.

your avoiding looking at his piercing eyes. feeling his hand pull your chin to get that eye contact. pecking your lips, he would say it’s his new addition but everything about you has him newly addicted. your eyelashes flutter when you look at him. it gives him butterflies again. “i’m just nervous”

“there’s no need to be, i’m here to learn your body. so you can come to me for your release” he is someone you’ve never dealt with. you’ve only read about men like him. he doesn’t even seem real as he obverses your facial expressions. it makes you blush, your face extremely hot. he gives a tap on your butt, “go head doll”

you move slow, reluctant. moving up his body to almost squat above his face. feet planted, giving yourself plenty of room away him like your scared of him. “suguru are you sure ?” he rolls his eyes, snatching your hips to have your core at his mouth. slowly working his lips against your soft skin. giving your wet kisses all over your mound. your still hovering above him, he has to pull you closer until your knees hit the bed

“yes ‘m sure, need you close baby” his voice sounds so syrupy and thick. the beginning licks he gives you makes you jump. he has to wrap his strong arms around your thighs to keep you still. his low moans vibrate between your legs. causing you to feel the wetness start to leak onto his tongue

he is starting a teasing pace with his thick tonuge. rotating around your pulsing clit. softly sucking so he can hear your delicate noises leave your mouth. you taste so good, smell even better he doesn’t know what to do with himself just savoring you on his tastebuds as he starts to almost ravish you. you hear his soft moans echoing off your plush thighs. the taste frying his brain already, hands around his head on fingers tensing up in the silk blankets. you whimper first, then he hears your sensual sounds. his tongue is doing wonders, making you jump when the electricity course through your veins.

moving to your entrance. your wetness leaking down his throat, the more his tongue laps at you. his brain is thumping hard. his erection standing talk still confined in his slacks. rolling his tongue to swallow all he can. doing one certain suck of his lips that have your hands flying to grip his hair. hands not knowing what to do. “ugh oh my- g-geto” he is almost animalistic, shoving his face as deep as he could so he could properly work. he is lapping at you seeing you convulse over him. “right there, r-right there ”

you feel light prodding at your entrance. one of his thick fingers coming to penetrate you. feel you tense up at the intrusion “relax sweetheart” he pulls away just to calm you down. moving slow to slide in, hitting your gspot precisely. your knees buckling into the sheets while he slowly thrust into you silk like walls. they're feels so soft he cant wait

you pull on his wild hair, when his fingers work up a steady rhythm “wait wait” your toes are twitching while he continues paying you no mind not until he gets what he wants. your poor hips held harder when you try to lift them. your body is clenching up, feel the pleasure shoot up from your tensed up toes. you can feel the creeping sensation of your high, it’s scary how fast you feel it coming. you can feel it in your veins. pulling on his hair harder hearing him moan louder.

the pain from his scalp is something that he groans at. the white of your eyes the part show as you orgasm. its strong and it knocked you off your senses fully relaxing on his face as you try and catch your breath but he keeps going. working his tongue and fingers into you intensely. “ ‘guru” he likes the name. how it slips from your mouth as almost a plea. he just can’t enough he had to force himself away from you using all his self control to pull his fingers out of you

tenderly kissing all over your mound as your nerves calm down. your feel sexual attraction more then ever the more he does soft movements towards you. your stomach clenching and unclenching as you try to unwind. suddenly feeling him set you on the soft silk sheets

laid on your back breathing hard, barely collecting yourself still feeling him touch all over you. vision hazy as you look at his muscle toned body hovering over you. you didn’t see him strip. seeing him naked just makes everything worse. your attraction worse, your arousal is worse. the thickness between his legs standing tall at attention, you pull his hard body on top of yours. so you can steal his lips surpising him enough to stick your tongue in his mouth the sexual tension wiping your nerves away

your body is calling for him, saying it needs him from the way you shiver and shake to the wetness leaking out of you steadily. he can feel you love him, you don’t have say it. pulling away to kiss all over your face. moving slow he wants to savor this. his first time being sexual with you, he needs to in-grave it in his memory. trailing down to kiss your neck slowly sucking on your soft skin. “so prefect, perfect for me. mmh i love you so much ”

the words still making your stomach drop feeling him kiss down between your breast trailing down your stomach. pulling your legs apart to kiss the crease between your thighs. lips moving farther down to under your knee and finally working to your foot as he pecks each toe. moving back in place to hover over you, his pupils dilate wide almost scaring you. maneuvering your body to have your delicate leg placed over his toned shoulder. kissing your calf tenderly like it was on your face. lightly snatching your ankle he put the toes to lips again. liking the pretty white polish. smooching the polish on each toe. licking the color to see if there is a taste. putting the toes in his mouth the get the flavor of them. letting them pop out

everything about you tastes good. he can’t get enough, craving you already. he needs a quick taste of you, sticking the fingers that were just in your walls on his tongue. the taste stirring his veins. he is a moaning mess when he pulls them away from his mouth. watching him in disbelief “you ready for me ?” he wants to be sure. seeing you nod your eagerly does nothing for his ego he needs to hear it out your mouth “say it”

“im ready for you suguru” he wish he was stronger hearing his name from your lips makes him weaker. his head cloudy with need for you, he moved with cation taping his large tip on your entrance. it’s alarming how he is so thick, he can the wetness coating him little by little. moving to your clit to slide against with his length, rock against your slowly. your soft moans making his body overheat

biting his lip to control himself, he can’t spill too early. your brown skin is glistening, it’s like he is under a spell with you. he lines himself up with you. sliding in steadily seeing you back arch lightly. his movements snail like on purpose. he doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want to selfish for just his pleasure. lowering down to kisses against your neck. legs straining from being pull back

the feeling of him inside you is so intense as continues to work his length inside. stretching you so wide, as you feel your pelvises meet. all the way to the hilt has youre eyes watering. his lips coming to yours when he starts to grind into you. scratching an inch in your walls you didn’t know you had pulling away from his hungry lips when hips thrust into you slowly "mmh geto i-it's so deep" your trying to free your leg from his grasp.

kisssing your calf, “i know baby, i know can’t help it, was blessed with this dick just for you” he trust slower not to overwhelm you. seeing your face twist in pleasure. you’re a sight to behold. he wants to pat himself on the back. “my skilled tongue just for you, my hair just for you to tug on” lips now working in your collar bone sucking small hickies. he puts his arms under your back locking them to together so he can pull almost all the way out of you to slide all the way back in seeing your body convulse “was made for you, made to be your husband”

moving to push you other legs on you shoulder giving you that deep stroke that makes you dizzy. your whimpers are getting to him. they are chipping away at him. your toes flex over his shoulder while he thrust into you again. tapping your cervix lightly causing pleasurable cramps to hit your senses. no one's ever hit those spot in you. you try to push on his flexing stomach. the feeling new to you you want more but at the same time it a little overwhelming “is it right there ?” the tone teasing you. you’re so cute when you nod your head really fast "sweetheart, I gotta hit that spot to make you feel good "

he wants you to be pleasured to the fullest. his hips humping just a little faster. your wetness is coating him, he is trying to hold his composure. your so warm, so tight he can’t help but to moan, letting his moans ring out to your ears. everything he is doing is affecting your body, not evening knowing what to do with your hands until you pull him closer to taste his lips again

something about the kisses has you turning into a puddle under him. the way his tongue works against yours has both your sounds of pleasure echoing off each other. feeling him hold your bottom lips in his teeth as he pulls away letting it pop back in place after he stretched it. “i love you” it’s so soft when it hits your ears. the flip in your stomach getting worse when he smiles at you, one that would make your panties drop if you had them on. pushing both thighs against your chest. his hard chest on top of your thighs while his calfs are now on his shoulders.

your hands move to cover the loud almost sob like sounds that leave your lips. "uncover your mouth i want to maids to hear how good i'm fucking you" snatching your hand from your mouth. the cries leaving your lips getting louder. your thighs to your chest are making you shiver almost and shake "want everyone to know you're mine" sucking more bruises on your neck, as he licks your heated skin, sweat picking up on his taste buds

looking at you he can see the undeniable look of euphoria. “talk to me, wanna hear you” rolling his pelvis just right to make you throw your head back. throwing your reply behind your eyelids with your eyeballs. barely catching your answer when he does it again

“feels too good, too deep, i-i can’t take it” his eyes light up just looking at you barely collect yourself, he is insane. it’s like he gains energy from seeing you overwhelmed. your eye rolled back make him thrust harder and deeper.

each roll of his pelvis has a different noise leaving your swollen lips. “come on (୨୧), this only the first night. i'm going easy on you" he sees the moans getting caught i your chest the more pleasure corses through your body. the way your positioned. his large tip taping close to your slimy cervix.“breathe through it doll, don’t hold your breath” the wetness of you keep dripping all over him. he feels your body tense up slowly “relax into it baby” he moves to drag you through your high. your hands coming to grip his back tightly pulling him closer

you take his advice even though each thrust hits you deep in your gut. breathing in and out. the tingles starting to spread all your body. making your legs quiver against your chest. releasing the tension from your body, feeling suguru take your ankle from his shoulder quick to push your toes back in his mouth. the overstimulation of everything has your orgasm hitting you like a brick house, the steady steam of liquid flying out of you against getos stomach

“good girl let it out, there you go baby” he is quick to get down to your ear letting your ankle go. “you feel so good doll, gonna give you all my babies” your tight walls making his groin churn. hearing your sweet cries. still squirting on his abdomen as he strokes it out of you more and more. "gonna be the best momma, the prettiest momma" he pants freakily over you hands having to grip the sheets to not get carried away with your body

you’re liquid done leaving your body, now numb all over. feeling his tip jerk into you as he continues to babble in your ear. he knows he is close he can only last so long. he has never felt this submitted to someone. he feels under a spell with you both skin to skin, raw walls swallowing him, moans in his ear. your ankles coming to pull him in by his neck. nails searching down his toned back. lips quick to latch onto his, tongue moving quickly with each other’s

he for once in his life is overwhelmed. his sperm quick to leave his body. hitting your cervix with accuracy, the intensity is so much you hear quiet whimpers leave his lips, “i love you” it’s little a breath of air that leaves him. it’s so warm when the cream jerks into you.

“so full ‘guru” you speak right against his lips. looking into his eyes when you feel more cum leave him. he presses all the way flush to you deep as he is allowed making you scramble away from him. making you really feel it in your stomach

“can’t believe you’re my wife” he barely collected his breath. ready to see how you’re doing. quick to not let his high take over his body just yet “you did so good for your first night sweetheart, you feel alright ?” unwrapping your ankles from around his neck. kissing them softly and massaging the skin. moving your thighs off your chest. touching all over your body

you’re eyes are glazed over, pupils blown out. voice syrupy he sees you’re out of it. sees you in a space of ultimate euphoria. “i feel so good” you’re body shivering as he pecks your lips. he is slow to pull out of you. hearing you hiss, as your walls pulse out his cum. quick to pull your legs back and work a thick finger into you. pushing as much as he can back into you

“gotta clean you up, made such a mess” lowering his face to lick the sweat off your stomach. seeing your abdomen clench, as he pops his finger out of you “ ‘m sorry for being so messy baby, i’ll always clean you up. i’ll do everything for you, won’t have to do anything ever” kissing lower to your swollen folds from his harsh arousal your thick lips so puffy. “never lift one finger sweetheart” he is rambling everything of the top of his head. his mouth watering seeing your leak more liquid and his cream

his silky tongue moves fast to work against your chubby clit. eating his cum out you sensually making your body convulse. “s-suguru please” crawling up the bed while he continues. continuing to clean up his hard work. legs coming to trap his head between your plush thighs. hands coming to pull on his soft hair. licking until he feels you’re all clean. pulling away to kiss at your slimy flesh

coming up for air. pecking his lips up your body, until he has your lips against his, tasting your juices and his cream all over his tongue. nearly jumping out your skin when you feel him thrust so snail like into you again

“gotta make sure it sticks doll”

[melgolbach]

SPOOKED || JOAQUIN TORRES

you and joaquin had just gotten out of the movie theatre, seeing the new "talk to me” that had just came out. “holy shit, the toe scene was so freaky,” he laughed out while you just gagged. “ugh, please don’t remind me. i mean that wasn’t the worst part- but definitely on the top three scenes i didn’t like.” you shuddered, “that wasn’t the worst part?” joaquin smiled in disbelief.

“when the guy started sucking on the dogs face? HELLO?” you wave your hands around in the air. “holy shit i almost didn’t make it all through. i can’t believe i didn’t even close my eyes- probably the shock of just watching that scene.” you scrunched your face, that scene highly being stuck in your mind. “maybe we shouldn’t have seen that movie, i think im gonna have nightmares.” you shuddered. “don’t worry,” joaquin wrapped both his arms around you from the side. “i will be right next to you by your side. no lady will be sucking your toes or any of us sucking our dog’s face.” he nodded. “please don’t say that,” you deadpan.

he unlocked the car door on the passenger side, “my lady,” he spoke. “why thank you kind sir,” you bow to him slightly. you got into the dark navy truck as he shut the door behind you, putting on your seat belt. he climbed into the driver’s side, turning on the truck and the stereo blasted both of your ears. “holy shit,” you breathed out, turning down the volume. “i forgot we were jamming out bad.” you laughed. “hell yeah,” joaquin unlocked his phone, putting shuffle on apple music and the song ‘DAKITI’ by bad bunny & JHAYCO started to play. “HELLL YEAH,” he bopped his head, and you went along with him singing.

you both finally got to your shared house, getting out the truck and walking to the front door with joaquin trailing right behind you. “now without music everything’s so scary,” you mumble, a bit sad that the two of you were out of the truck already. “we can put jazz music on if you want,” he considered. you nodded, “on it baby.” he left you to go back into the living room, grabbing a random record and placing it in. "come back to me" by matt monro & nelson riddle started to play. ‘hear my voice…, where you are’ the music starts playing, and you start to get ready for bed.

joaquin was somewhere in the house, probably looking for lucy your little pet dog. “there you are,” he ruffled her black fluffy hair. he armed the house at stay, locking every single door and double checking just for your sake, the windows as well. he strolled in the shared room, leaning on the door as he saw you put your hair up to do your skin care routine while softly humming the melody of the song. “come back to me,” he softly sang, walking your way. “catch a plane, catch a breeze.” he slid in, his socks moving slick like a child sliding down a slide. he did his routine fast, getting out of his clothes and only to be in his underwear with nothing else on other than his military chained necklace. tossed it off onto the side table, getting under neath the sheets.

the bathroom was on your side of the bed, so he watched from afar on his side with much love in his eyes. he was relaxed, while on your hand you were still so terrified of that movie. “baby relax,” joaquin laughed out. you spit your toothpaste out, “oh i’m sorry dear, you agreed to sign up to me being easily so scared of scary movies like that. i just need distraction to let myself relax after one like so.”

he laughed as he dropped his head down, “yes ma’am i know i know. you’re so tense after scary movies.” you turned off the light to the bathroom, closing the door softly. ‘from the hills, from the shore’ the music played lightly in the background now that you and joaquin were talking. “still can’t believe i agreed to even watching a horror movie with you.” you shook your head. “come into bed,” the song had ended. everything finally quiet with a few birds outside your window and lucy panting on the bedroom floor, sprawled out.

“let me distract you,” he whispered, getting on top of you as he went down to kiss you. you kissed back, closing your eyes as he worked his way on you. his left hand on your hip while his other hand propped him up, his hand going up and down on the side of your stomach sending butterflies into it. his lips left yours, as he kissed the down part of your cheek and onto your neck. “joaquin..,” you mumbled out. your eyes opened, but fluttered closed quickly as he sucked a spot that was always so bruised every few days. you moaned lightly, your head throwing back. “fuck,” you whisper. his lips trailed down, but only to be caught onto your silky black pajama collard shirt. he laughed, embarrassed that he had wetted your pajamas. your lips turn into a small smile, as he looked down to you from his spot.

your hands going up to his hair, running through the soft dark black locks. he leaned forward, kissing your lips again and curling up to your side as he placed half his body onto you while you laid on your back as your nails scratched his back softly. “good lord,” he breathed. “i love when you do that. makes me feel like a cat, ready too purr out.” he chuckled. “well i’m glad you like it baby.” you kissed his lips as he looked at you with his chin on the side of your chest. “goodnight,” you whisper, snuggling closer to him. “goodnight amour,” he mumbled. “love you.”

——————————>>

a/n: EEEEE i’m sorry im so in love with danny ramirez it’s not even funny anymore 😭 i need me a man like him 😩 anyways hope you enjoyed this little blurb of joaquin torres! please lmk if you want more fics with him or mickey garcia. (lowkey im about to watch any film he’s ever been in just so i can create more with more characters of his)

[jackest-jack]

Still thinking about that post that was like being annoyed/making fun of/someone give me a better word when I have slept instead of pulling an all nighter for zero reason at all/[insert word for flow] at people who go "frankensteins monster is supposed to be beautiful actually" and all the people in the comments going "Uh its OBVIOUSLY supposed to be ugly that's why all those people RAN AWAY LOLLLL"

Youre both wrong. and dumb. and need to shut up

point one, easiest to refute with surface level text: every part of the monster was hand picked by Victor to be perfectly proportioned it says it IN the book that the only part of the monster that looked janked the fuck up like that were its creepy eyes and that was bc of the reanimation process (never explained in the book) and Victor fainted and ran away and pissed and cried like a baby because he is a baby and also he had been malnourishing himself for this pet project for like. multiple months. a little bit of freakout is understandable

When he got chased out of towns it was largely because a 7 foot tall giant half naked dude who cant speak and is freakishly strong with scary as fuck eyes is kind of freaky whether or not you suspect magic reanimation. The blind mans kids freaked the hell out because there was a MASSIVE STRANGER fuckin grisping their dads/grandpas arm and begging to be loved while their dad was visibly uncomfortable I would also freak the hell out if some random stranger had my grandma by the arm after breaking into her house and was going "ACCEPT ME LOVE ME YOURE THE ONLY PERSON WHO CARES"

ONTO POINT 2 WHICH IS MORE INTERESTING LETS GO

the people who go and say the monster is Just So Ugly And Jank are wrong but what about the people who are like NO ITS BEAUTIFUL and whatever else they say idk I'm not embroiled in frankendiscourse. Well they aren't all that smart either. I suppose I'm arguing on that side and given current circumstances (no sleep) I don't think its incorrect to apply the not that smart label to me but that's neither here nor there.

The thing bout it (<- monster) is that it is still designed to be the most freakishly enduring thing resembling a person alive. It was designed by its creator to look perfect, be perfect, to be form over function because it wasn't designed with a function. It was made to be a notch in victors scientific belt, with no regard to what happens after his achievement. In victors eyes, the best, most impressive point in the monsters life was that first second it took a breath in of its own volition, and everything after that moment was terrifying and worthless because it was no longer victor's creation- in that moment it became its own thing, something other than a body to be finished.

Theres a panache to it, to have a handcrafted perfect being and have the simple act of sentience be the thing that tarnishes it in its creators eyes. To be designed perfectly, and to have that design be trash the second you open your eyes. Trans people I know you see the umami in this concept can I get a hoi ya . fuck I should sleep I'm not going to though

if you made it this far into the ramblings of a madman please understand PLEASE understand what I'm getting at. its not beautiful or ugly it was simply designed to be perfect theoretically. The feeling that children feel when they open their eyes and their parents theory of them ceases to be reality, and it takes a long time to understand why that happened

The je ne sais quoi. please. please. I'm slamming my head against the doorframe. I'm not proofreading this its straight to the public fuck ya (my) life

[dioslesbianwife]

Hi

I really love your head canons and I wanted to ask if you could do the cute yet terrifying stand for the jojo lands crew? Because something tells me they would be hilarious

hi, ty! yep totally, hope u enjoy and thank you for requesting<3

Jodio Joestar

Immediate judgment. Jodio sees your Stand and goes, “...I’m not working with that. What is that.”

Then your Stand decapitates a guy while giggling and he just goes:

😐 "...Nevermind."

Secretly kind of obsessed with how horrifyingly efficient it is. Like, no one expects you to be the threat- but you’re the most dangerous person in the room.

Would 100% film your Stand doing something adorable right after maiming someone. "Look at this thing. Look. It’s licking blood off its tiny hands.”

Occasionally pokes it with a pen or something and gets punched across the room. 

Weirdly overprotective of you. “If anyone so much as thinks of hurting you, your freaky plush baby’s gonna kill them, but like- I get to kill them first.”

The only one who isn't phased when you smile sweetly after someone explodes. He’s like “That’s our terrifying monster. Love that for us.”

Dragona Joestar

Loves your Stand’s aesthetic. “Oh my godddd is that a little pink crown??”

Tries to style you and your Stand together- "You both need matching glitter boots."

Absolutely screamed the first time it opened its mouth and said “Time for snuggly-strangling!” and crushed a guy’s spine.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL- ”

Lowkey adores how no one takes you seriously until it’s way too late. “You’re like... a trap in a gift box.”

Definitely choreographs a routine for you and your Stand to intimidate enemies while serving looks.

Teases you constantly- “C’mon, show ‘em your evil plushie again~” while laughing hysterically in the background.

Tries to teach your Stand how to vogue. “No no no, arms up, NOW snap his neck. Perfect.”

Won’t shut up about how iconic you are.

Charming Man

He knows the dissonance between your gentle demeanor and your Stand’s violence means you’re dangerous.

He tries testing you early- asks leading questions. Your Stand responds instantly, slashing a knife out of a man’s hand without touching him.

He laughs. Not mockingly, but genuinely impressed. “Okay. You’re not harmless.”

He starts gravitating toward you. Keeps including you in challenges, games, and “team-building” missions.

The Stand freaks him out, but your calm acceptance of it? Freaks him out more. 

He tries teaching your Stand to fist-bump. It growls. He fist-bumps you instead. “I like you better anyway.”

He thinks your Stand is the perfect weapon: disarming, unexpected, and loyal. “Use it smartly, and you’ll never have to lift a finger.”

Paco

First impression: “What the fuck is that. Is that your Stand? …It’s... blinking at me???”

Your Stand headbutts him the first time he mocks it and he gets knocked out for 3 minutes.

Will literally glare at it and say “Don’t look at me in that tone.”

Sometimes tries to one-up it in strength. Loses. Every time.

Definitely talks shit to it behind your back. "You're not that scary, I could take you- STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT- "

Secretly admires how you keep your composure when your Stand is vaporizing enemies with laser glitter hearts. “You’re just chill about it. That’s crazy.”

Protects you like you’re the fragile one, even though you’re absolutely not. “Get behind me- unless you’re planning to obliterate that guy’s head again, in which case, go for it.”

Usagi 

He thinks your Stand is ADORABLE. He wants to hug it. He wants to feed it cookies.

“I bet it sings too, right?? Right??”

You warn him not to touch it. He touches it. He loses two teeth.

“OW- Okay okay okay okay!!! I still love it though!”

He gives it a little name like “Puffly” or “Snickerdoodle Death Angel.” Calls it that every time, even if it growls at him.

Would definitely try to put accessories on it. “Let’s give it a little hat!!” It incinerates the hat with its eyes.

Cries a little when it kills someone, not out of fear, but because “It looked so happy doing it... I'm just so proud 🥲”

Will literally ask it to do tricks for fun. “Explode that mailbox!!” 💥💥💥 “YAYYYYY!!!”

[the-grimm-writer]

I went to send you some thirsty ideas and my internet cut out 😩 not the universe trying to stop this…!! There are so many possibilities- like you were just talking about JJK and there’s some SINFULLY lovely characters there- Nanami with his perfect husband look and act just to have his cute little wife tied down to his bed, open and waiting for him to get home and that’s why he rushes after clocking out… gojo who wants you so overstimulated you can’t even hope to try to escape even if you want to- try running away while in his domain baby, let’s see how far you get… geto running his freakish little cult, one day spotting you and thinking you look so perfectly innocent… so corruptable, but you just won’t give into him no matter how nice he is, so what other choice does he have but to snatch you away???

There’s also the cute little Halloween killer, who gets away with everything including murder all because of the holiday. People are so stupid, absolutely blind to his crimes even when he’s still dripping with his last victim all because he matches the season- and unfortunately you’re no exception to that. You blindly approach him ooing and awwing his “costume” and praising his stature because he’s SO big and SO tall- he suits a slasher costume perfectly! You ask to take a selfie with him and he drags you in close, taking advantage of the closeness to press himself against you while you blush and squirm and struggle to take the photo. He watches you scamper away after, with a little wave. Unfortunately with that photo you won’t be seeing the last of him any time soon, but he’ll let you have your fun for now.

Dw I get it I'm moving so the universe is trying to stop me to. 😭

But we shall never!

.

Gojo would honestly be such a freaky yandere just because of how chill he is while being an absolute powerhouse. Like just him showing a glimpse of his domain expansion would have his poor darling too shaken up to even try and get away from him 🥺

And Geto running a cult is honestly so underrated, like the POTENTIAL. How he thinks you're the perfect match for him and uses all of his connections to keep you stuck with him now matter how much you try and run away there's no escaping. and don't get me started on the breeding kink he has (it's canon he told me). How he's determined that together you'll have the perfect children that'll fix everything. <3

.

Also kinda unrelated but the going up to the slasher and taking a selfie with him reminds me of the scene in Terrifier where that girl goes up to Art and sits on his lap and takes a selfie with him lmao.

But instead of getting brutally murdered later on, I like the idea of the slasher just being totally entranced by the way you blush and nervously giggle when he pulls you in close. How you thanked him and then immediately rushed away afterward like you're a shy school girl that just confessed to her crush.

He can't help but be fascinated. Such a sweet, innocent looking thing like you was obviously attracted to a big, scary man like him. And unfortunately for you that captures his attention. You're in for a long night when he sees you go back over to your friends.

You have a big smile on your face as you show them the picture and walk away with them, nobody realizing you're being followed. And he wonders how long that pretty smile of yours will last once he has you all to himself. <3

[sparkles-and-trash]

Second Chances, a Shouto and Touya fix-it one-shot ~

tags: healing todofam, todosibs, Shouto and Touya focused, some dabihawks and bktd in the time jump part

note: this ended up a lot longer than planned, and I even added a time jump for some dabihawks and tdbk in there hehe! And as usual I'm playing a little fast and loose with the ages of the Todoroki kids for plot purposes, so let's just go with it and have fun, yeah?

~ ao3 link ~

He got life as a gift for a second time.

That's what the doctors and nurses keeps telling him, at least.

But right now, Touya's not sure he agrees with them.

The sterile air in the hospital room makes his nose and mouth feel dry, his eyes feels tired of all the white; the white walls, floors, sheets, his white bandages.

But honestly, while his body is covered in bandages and skin grafts and the intense pain that flares through his very bones every time he takes a breath, he still thinks the worst part is the embarrassment.

Turns out nobody tells you how embarrassing it is to almost die.

The nurses treat him like he's some little baby, which he isn't, he's 13 and a half, and the doctors talk all over him.

Meanwhile his family is all being totally awkward and weird, even more so than before, which quite frankly is saying something.

All Touya wanted had been for his dad to see him, to listen and to give him a little attention; how stupid and unknowing he had been.

Now his father refuses to leave his side, always just sitting there, teary eyed and sad looking, which is ridiculous when Touya's not used to see him show any emotion besides anger.

At first he has tried to hold Touya's hand all the time, but Touya managed to put a stop to that sooner rather than later.

His mom is quiet, and she's usually smiling and telling him about her day and how the wildlife in their garden is doing, but Touya sees the sadness in her eyes, too.

No matter how much she tries to hide it.

Fuyumi and Natsuo clearly thinks the hospital is scary, and Fuyumi keeps berating him for hurting himself, but she also loves to whisper to him about how dad is different now, that he barley goes to work, and Natsuo said that he even tried to watch SpongeBob with them recently.

Touya would love to have witnessed that, but all he gets is weepy dad.

No fair.

The only one he hasn't seen yet is Shouto, and he understands why.

Touya is way too scary looking for a little kid like Shouto.

One of the changes Fuyumi and Natsuo mentioned is that dad is no longer super focused on training Shouto, and Touya thinks Shouto should be able to enjoy that without being traumatized by seeing his brother looking like a freaky mix of a mummy and Frankenstein's monster.

So no, Shouto had not come to visit, yet.

But apparently he's been asking about "Nii-San" all the time, and their mom is insisting that Shouto is ready, but Touya isn't so sure.

The next time his mom comes through the door to the room to his hospital room, she looks weirdly nervous, but she's also smiling.

Like she has a secret.

Touya's not a fan of secrets.

She sits down next to him carefully, and when he finally looks at her properly, she puts her hand on his.

"Someone's here to see you, today," she says softly, and Touya sighs.

"Is it dad?" he asks in his new, creaky voice.

"Is he crying?"

Touya swears his mom hides a smile behind her hand.

"No dear, your father is home with your brother and sister," she informs him, and Touya nods.

"Good."

Rei tilts her head.

"Your little brother really worries for you, Touya," she says softly, and Touya has a feeling she's not talking about Natsuo.

"Probably because you guys are making such a fuss," Touya mumbles grumpily, before he adds.

"And dad crying all the time."

Rei actually fully smiles this time.

"That might be, but he refused to let me leave without him today, so he's sitting outside in the waiting room as we speak," she tells him, and Touya's heart starts speeding up.

"You let him come?!" he asks, and Rei sighs.

"Like I told you, he refused to let me leave," she says.

"I think that was the first temper tantrum he's thrown in his whole little life, actually."

Touya's eyes widens.

"He did?" he asks, only half believing her.

"He did," Rei confirms, before she continues.

"He's also refusing to see you with me in the room, so I'm gonna go outside and send him in now."

Touya doesn't protest, but he can't meet her eyes.

"It's time, baby," Rei says softly as she strokes his cheek, before she gently tilts his face so he has to face her.

"And be kind to your brother."

Touya nods.

He doesn't have enough energy to put up a fight.

His mom gets up to leave, and Touya keeps looking out the window, trying to show how disinterested he is.

The door closes, and he hears two quiet voices outside for a bit, before a tentative knock hits his door.

Touya sighs heavily.

"Come in, Shouto," he calls out as loud as his fried vocal cords will let him.

The door creaks open, and the sound of little footsteps comes closer towards his bed.

Touya really doesn't want to turn around and face his little brother.

What if he scares him?

With his burned face and bandaged body, with his new voice and his pale face, those parts that aren't burned at least.

Turns out Touya doesn't have to turn around, because Shouto's already made that choice for him by walking all the way around the bed.

Suddenly Shouto is standing right in front of him, his mis-matched eyes staring straight into Touya's, and for a few seconds his expression is unreadable.

Touya's heart is beating so fast and hard he worries it'll alert the nurses.

Then, as if someone pulled away curtains on a sunny day, Shouto's face lights up with pure joy and relief.

"Nii-San!" he squeals, and clumsily tries to climb up into Touya's bed.

Touya just stares, trying to figure out if this is real.

Shouto finally clambers up into the bed, and he gently reaches out to put his hand on Touya's cheek.

Exactly like their mom.

"Nii-San, does it hurt?" he asks quietly, and Touya blinks down at him.

Then he nods.

"Yes, it does," he says carefully, and if Shouto is scared of his voice, he doesn't show it.

Shouto's face falls a little, so Touya hurries to continue.

"But they give me great pain medication, and the doctors says my skin gr-"

Touya cuts himself off mid-sentence to not traumatize his almost-seven year old brother more than necessary.

"Uhm, my brand new skin is growing quick and it's strong!"

Shouto's eyes are huge, but not from fear, rather... awe?

"You're so strong, Touya-nii!" he exclaims eagerly, and Touya feels a blush creep up on his cheeks.

"I'm not..." he starts, but once again cuts himself off.

No need to take his own self hatred out by airing it out to his baby brother.

"Well, thank, Shou," Touya says quietly as he gently ruffles the kid's two toned hair.

Shouto beams.

"When I grow up I wanna be like you," Shouto declares, and Touya's heart squeezes.

Had he always been this goddamn cute?!

Touya gives him a wry smile.

"Maybe a little less fried, tho, right?" he asks in a teasing tone, and Shouto giggles, before his face gets serious again.

"You were very hurt, Nii-san," he says in his serious little voice.

"Dad cried."

Touya sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Well, dad cries every time he's here now, so you don't get to complain!" Touya says, trying to lighten the mood.

Shouto doesn't smile.

"I was really scared, Touya-Nii," he whispers.

Touya averts his eyes.

"I'm sorry about that, Shou," he says quietly, and suddenly a small hand grabs Touya's.

"Just don't get hurt like that again, okay?" Shouto asks, and Touya looks back at him.

"I'll try my best," he says with a small smile.

Shouto shakes his head.

"Promise!" he insists.

Touya chuckles.

"Fine, I promise," he says and he ruffles Shouto's hair again.

"Promise."

-

At this point, a trip to the hospital is like a trip to the grocery store for Touya.

Even his family doesn't kick up much of a fuss for these smaller procedures anymore, which is quite nice honestly.

Especially now that he has a boyfriend that takes care of all that worrying for him.

This was the first time since he and Keigo got serious he had to go under anesthesia for a small procedure, and Keigo had not been coping too well.

He was pretty good at pretending to keep it cool, but Touya knew better, and it was obvious he'd been a nervous wreck.

Which is why he's rather surprised when the first person through his doors when he's come to after surgery isn't Keigo.

Touya should have known.

"Nii-San!" he exclaims as he hurries over to Touya's bedside.

Touya can't help but smile.

"Hi, Shou," he says tiredly, and Shouto sits down on his bedside.

Even now, 18 years old, interning as a Pro-Hero and with a steady boyfriend, Shouto still gets that look in his eyes sometimes.

The one he had when he told Touya that he wanted to be just like him when he grew up.

To be fair he wasn't doing half bad on the matter.

Shouto was interning at the same agency that Touya (and Keigo) currently worked at, and he was already taking an extra interest in rescue and first aid work.

Touya couldn't be prouder.

"So, why is your face the first I see, and not my doting boyfriend?" Touya asks dryly, and Shouto shrugs.

"Because I told him to wait outside," Shouto said simply.

Touya felt a headache coming on.

"Why?" he asks, and Shouto tilts his head.

"Because I'm the first one who sees you," Shouto says simply, and Touya rolls his eyes.

This kid.

"I hope you were nice to Keigo at least?" he asks, and Shouto nods.

"I'm always nice to Keigo, I like him a lot."

Touya feels a small smile tug on his lips.

"I'm not so sure about Kats, tho," Shouto adds thoughtfully.

Touya's smile drops.

"...please tell me you did not leave Keigo alone with Bakugo?" Touya asks, and Shouto blinks.

"Why would I tell you that?" Shouto asks genuinely.

Touya sighs heavily.

"Nevermind Shou, could you just tell Keigo that he can come in now?" he asks, and Shouto nods.

"Oh, sure," he agrees and gets up off the bedside.

Before he goes to save Touya's boyfriend and keep his own in check, he stops and gives Touya a genuine look.

"I'm glad you're okay, Nii-San," he says quietly, and Touya smiles.

"Well, I'm glad you cam to check on me, Shou," Touya says back, and Shouto beams.

"I'm planning on keeping it that way," Shouto informs him.

Touya chuckles.

"I'll tell Keigo," he says dryly, but Shouto nods serious.

"Yeah, you probably should."

Touya waits to roll his eyes until Shouto's turned around.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Touya-Nii."

Touya huffs.

"Just get my boyfriend, you menace."

Shouto turns back to give him a final smile before he goes out the door, and as soon as the door opens the sound of Bakugo's voice hits them both, and Shouto suddenly seems in a bit more of a hurry.

"Yeah, hurry up you little weirdo," Touya mumbles as Shouto scatters off.

He's rather grateful he still has his biggest fan, after all.

[vampirevatican]

Anymore head canons about being married to leather?👅

ofc i have headcanons!! snuggling, cute wifey duties, some angst... (the tongue emoji)... you a cop?

MDNI NSFW BELOW, also this will be very self indulgent but i'll try to be non gendered

Husband Leather being knocked out in y'all's king bed while you cook. He only knows you're out of the bed because you aren't cuddled up under him like you're trying to wear his skin (joke entirely intended)

Husband Leather who creeps up behind you in the kitchen. You know he's behind you, big guy isn't exactly a light stepper when waking up in the morning and the farmhouse has a few creaks.

Husband Leather bending a little to cover your neck and shoulder in kisses. Enough to make you want more, but you're busy cooking so he doesn't stop you but you nearly go weak in the knees at his deeper morning voice in your ear.

Husband Leather that calls to you so sweetly, "Morning my little piglet." and you just can't scold him so you tilt your head back and he kisses your neck more.

Husband Leather that multitasks taking over scrambling the eggs in the pan while tending to your aching desire that he ignited.

Husband Leather setting aside the food, foil wrapping it to keep it warm, slinging you on his shoulder and carrying you back to bed to rail you into the bedsheets.

Every morning, or at least the mornings whenever you tried to surprise or pamper him before starting your busy day on the farm. You're starting to think he's never really been asleep when you crawl out of bed as quietly as possible. At least you wake-up all cleaned up and with breakfast in bed.

Husband Leather who does everything he can to make sure you don't get mud on you at first. Though at some point he sees you don't care or maybe he just liked watching you wash off.

Husband Leather who doesn't even need to put it in, he can just watch. Who watches you in the washbasin. Almost drooling from the water rolling off your body.

Husband Leather who gets freaky all over the farm. Who spontaneously gets you in the mood, but it's always when the work isn't that important.

"Leather, baby, I'm milking the cow."

"I know. And I'm milking you."

He always teases like this when he's needy. You try to remember when was the last time you rode him or he railed you. It couldn't have been too long.

But with one well timed movement to your sensitive parts you're swearing and putting work down.

Husband Leather who plays with you in the fields. Swings you around and lifts you in the air. Grinning, smiling, so happy that you're his.

Husband Leather happy to be free of the curse, to make you breakfast, to protect and cherish you. A man who when you go out he is the scary dog privilege. The type to confront anyone for doing his wife any kind of wrong.