#head is splitting open in order to go pick up some of the stuff i usually use

[doctorwhoisadhd]

head feels like its imploding

[seijorhi]

Oleander

Oikawa Tooru x female reader x Iwaizumi Hajime w.c 8.6k tw: yandere, mentions of child abuse and neglect, references to underage kissing, murder, horror themes, pseudo-cest (foster siblings), blanket dub/non-con vibes for a good portion of this

The patisserie smells of sugar, vanilla and freshly baked croissants. In a word; delicious. 

For several minutes now, your brother’s been standing bent at the waist, studying the display case stacked full of cakes and desserts with an intense kind of focus. Considering. Deliberating. Inadvertently placing himself, and by extension you, as an obstacle for other people trying to do the same. 

“Alright, the crepe cake or the fancy looking chocolate one, the…” Heisuke squints at the display case, trying to decipher the label, “gateaux? Or should we go for the red one with the strawberry mousse thing?”

Bingo. You hold back a smile. 

“Go the strawberry one.” Nobody loves strawberries like your mom loves strawberries. 

“Ok, great. We’ll grab that, a bottle of nice wine, hit the florist and I think that should do it.” He nods to himself, satisfied. “She’ll be over the moon.”

He’s not wrong. The woman you’ve called a mother for the past ten years would fall over herself for something as simple as a birthday card, regardless of the fact that your dad insists on going all out every year. 

“She’s already over the moon; you’re home for the week.” The admission’s soft, hesitant – poking a little too close to an open wound for you to feel entirely comfortable voicing it. Hei gives you an odd look, but it mellows into something more genuine when he realises you’re not taking a stab at him. 

Baby steps. 

Finally, Heisuke steps up to the counter to order. Within minutes the cake’s boxed up, with little ice-packs slipped in to keep it cool, and paid for, and the two of you head out, you holding the door open for Hei to carefully maneuver his way out without jostling the precious, expensive cargo. 

“You’re good at this stuff, y’know,” he says as the two of you fall into step together. 

“At… picking cakes?”

He snorts, “No. I meant the whole… I don’t know. You’re good at remembering stuff, the cakes mom likes, dad’s weird habits. You probably already know what flowers we’re going to pick for her, don’t you?”

This time you don’t bother hiding your smile – peonies, pink ones. 

You go to tell him as much when a loud voice calls out your name. On instinct, you both spin to the source, and when you meet those piercing, olive green eyes, bearing down at you from the other side of the street, your heart leaps into your throat.

A ghost.

You can’t breathe. For a moment you can’t even think. Your hand stretches out, blindly seeking Heisuke, an anchor, anything–

Before your fingers can brush his sleeve, a hard, lean body collides with yours, sweeping you up into a crushing hug. Not Iwaizumi, though. 

Oikawa, taller, broader than the last time you saw him, smelling of citrus, summer and salt lets out a breathy noise, halfway between amazement and disbelief. 

“There you are,” he beams, setting you back on unsteady legs. 

Found you, the glint in his eyes seems to say. 

Rather than let you go, step back and give you some much needed space to breathe, his palm instead slides to rest on your hip, taking your chin between the index finger and thumb of his other hand in order to look at you properly, dark eyes poring over you for signs of anything amiss – bruises, tear-tracks, red eyes, swollen, split lips. 

Your mouth goes dry. 

On one side, there’s your brother, bewildered, arm half outstretched as if he can’t make his mind up whether he should be intervening or not. Iwa’s already jogging across the street, snarling at a driver who lays on his horn. 

The weight of Oikawa’s appraisal is as familiar to you as it is oppressive, and while his touch is delicate, featherlight, it burns to the marrow. Suddenly you’re fourteen again, trying to duck past him before he can notice the state of you.  

‘It’s nothing, Tooru, don’t worry about it!’ 

And just like back then, there’s a knot in your chest that doesn’t loosen until satisfaction melts the too sharp edge to his grin – right as Iwa joins you two. Three, you suppose, because while Heisuke remains in stunned silence, eyes darting between you and Oikawa, he’s still party to this, still a witness, and the thought makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear forever. 

(You shove down the fleeting rush of warmth at the relief you find there, the voice in your head that coos that he still cares enough to check. You don’t want him to care.)

“Holy fuck,” Iwa laughs, and Oikawa’s shoved aside, both of you ignoring the indignant grumbling as your rigid body’s pulled into his chest, his hand finding its way to the back of your head. He breathes in slow. Deep.

He still smells the same, earthy and masculine, the faintest tinge of his last cigarette still clinging to his jacket. Back then, he used to steal them from your foster father. You imagine that now, he probably has the money to go off and buy his own. 

“I’m sorry, who are you? What– can you let her go, please?” 

If it wasn’t them, the sheer absurdity of the moment might’ve made you giggle. Heisuke’s ears are bright red, a flush that extends down his neck. He doesn’t look angry per se, uncomfortable, absolutely, but from the pinched expression on his face, it’s clear he’s fighting the urge to bite out something far less polite. 

None of this, least of all the way they’re tugging you between them like a rag-doll, feels very polite to begin with.

As it is, Heisuke’s interruption has the intended effect. The fingers wound in your hair twitch, the cage of his arms drawing you closer. You almost expect the baring of teeth, a possessive snarl, yet it’s a small, almost imperceptible thing. He retreats – reluctantly – turning to glance at your brother, Oikawa by his side.

Judging from the stony, almost bored expression he levels at Hei, he’s not impressed.

“Friend of yours, imouto?” Oikawa’s purr skitters down your spine like ice. Unlike Iwa, there’s nothing less than friendly curiosity on the surface. He’s even smiling. 

Tongue darting out to wet your lips, you find your voice. 

“Hei, this is Iwaizumi and Oikawa,” you say, gesturing at each respectively. “We were in the same foster home for a while.” Sparing the two of them half a glance, you continue, “We’re actually right in the middle of something, if you’ll excuse us.”

The explicit dismissal’s bolder than you feel, but you’re proud that your voice doesn’t waver. You can’t say the same for your hand when you reach for Heisuke’s spare one, uttering the words that’ll only damn you further, “C’mon, nii-san. Mom and dad are waiting.”

Heisuke doesn’t blink. His hand slips into yours, the two of you sidestepping the pair and walking off towards the car without a backwards glance. 

Neither one of you speaks until you’re buckled into the passenger seat, Heisuke adjusting the rear-view mirror, the cake safely stashed away in the back. Until you’re pulling out onto the main road and there’s distance between you and them.

If only the gnawing, unsettling feeling in your stomach would go with it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, blankly staring out the window at the passing scenery. At the clouds hanging overhead, dark and threatening. Funny, that. Fitting. The skies were clear when you left home this morning. “About the nii-san thing, and grabbing your hand,” you clarify, because whether it was rude or not, you’ll be damned before you apologise for brushing them off. 

That’s not your relationship with Hei. It’s never been that. 

He eyes you for a beat. “You know, I never understood why mom wanted to adopt so bad. Dad too, but mom was always the one pushing for it. We were happy, the three of us. I wasn’t a screw up, their marriage was solid. I couldn’t understand the need to bring someone else in. Our family was fine, perfect the way it was.”

His thumb taps against the steering wheel, his shoulders loose and relaxed. You can’t quite pin the mood he’s in, where he’s going with this. 

“Oh,” you say, mostly because it feels like he’s waiting for you to acknowledge it. 

None of what he’s saying is news to you. None of it’s anything you haven’t wondered yourself a thousand times over. It’s just that Heisuke… you’ve never talked about this. Your adoption, your relationship with him, none of it. This sort of honesty is brand new territory for you both. 

You’re not so sure you’re loving the development. 

“When they committed to it, I thought they’d bring home a baby, a kid, not some weird, skittish fourteen year old who wanted nothing to do with me.” 

Ah.

Your cheeks heat, and you find yourself wishing you were anywhere but here. If Heisuke notices how you shift in your seat, the small tightening of your expression, he plows on regardless.

“You wouldn’t look at me, would barely talk to me. Hell, you acted like I had the plague most of the time. You didn’t hate me, I don’t think, you just… didn’t want to be anywhere near me, and it bugged the hell out of me. I couldn’t figure it out; who wouldn’t want an older brother to look out for them?” His next words hit you like a sledgehammer, cracking at something vital in your chest. It hurts before he opens his mouth.

“It was them, wasn’t it? The reason you steered clear ‘til I moved out of home.”

“Heis–”

He cuts you off with a look. “I’m right, aren’t I?” he demands. 

“Can we just– it doesn’t matter, alright? Can we move on?”

From the unhappy set of his jaw – the first true sign of discontent he’s expressed since getting in the car with you – it’s obvious there’s more he wants to say. You can’t blame him for that, curiosity’s only human. 

But you’re still too raw. It’s too soon.

You’ve spent too long burying those secrets deep to rip yourself apart to bring them to light. 

“Please, Hei. Let’s focus on mom’s birthday.” You force a smile, tiny and wrong, “The florist is next, yeah?” 

You get a grunt of acknowledgement and not much more than that, your brother’s attention pulling back to the drive. The silence that settles in the car should bring some relief. It’s what you wanted, and yet, amongst the churning feeling in your guts, the prickling at the back of your neck that hasn’t left you since you first spotted Iwa across the road, there’s a sense of discomfort that has nothing to do with crossing paths with your past life. 

Like a slap in the face, it hits you that you’re floundering for something to say, something – anything – to bridge the sudden, stark divide between you. Something that won’t sound hollow and meaningless. 

This thing you have with Heisuke. It took years, and maybe it’s skin deep and miles from what it should be, but the thought of losing it leaves you feeling oddly panicked.

It’ll… hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, because it’s about all you can give him right now, a tried and true method of soothing egos and hurt. 

Heisuke doesn’t say anything for the remainder of the drive, and you resign yourself to the very real possibility that in the course of a single conversation, you’ve managed to fracture this fragile thing between you two. 

Until you go for the door, and a hand on your wrist stops you. “Hey. I’m glad they did.”

—

When you startle awake a little after midnight, it’s because he’s yelling again. 

Mr. Furukawa had been in fine form at dinner, already three beers deep. You can only begin to imagine what’s set him off now, hours after lights out. His wife, probably. Although it’s equally possible he’s caught the oldest sneaking back in from seeing his girlfriend, or the twins trying to break into the pantry for a midnight snack. Or he tripped and stubbed his toe, or thought someone stole the rest of his beer when in reality he’d already swallowed it down. 

The reasons don’t really matter when he’s been drinking like that, in the same way that the initial target of his ire doesn’t matter. Once his voice reaches that slurred, furious pitch, anyone’s fair game.

There’s a pair of headphones in the top drawer, you have every intention of yanking them out and putting on one of your sleep playlists, drowning out the noise of your foster father’s drunken raging until he wears himself out or you fall back to sleep when you hear the thumping of his feet on the staircase.

“Where’s that fucking bitch?”

Eyes wide in the darkness, clutching at the comforter, your pulse jumps.

Again, it’s possible he’s talking about Mrs. Furukawa, or one of your foster sisters – the older one hunched over in the bed opposite yours, watching you shrewdly.

“Well go on then,” she sneers. “Run to your big brothers.”

You don’t bother to respond, any hesitation you might’ve had over leaving her to fend for herself shrivelling up under the mocking bitterness she’s sending your way. Fine, whatever. You don’t care what she thinks, scrambling from the warmth of your bed and hurrying for the door.

He’s halfway up the staircase when you reach their room. You’d knock – it’s the polite thing to do – except you definitely don’t want to be out in plain view when your foster father hits the landing. 

“Hajime?” you whisper into the darkness, slipping inside and shutting the door behind you, “Tooru?”

“Shit, c’mere.” At Hajime’s voice, the calloused, rough hands that guide you onto his mattress, the vice around your chest loosens. He won’t come in here, not after Hajime socked him in the face after catching sight of the raised, discoloured flesh of your cheek from your last run in. You’ve gotten better at using make-up to conceal the marks since then, but there’s also been less of a need for it.

“Can I stay for a bit?” you ask. Until he calms down and passes out. Until the sun rises and you can sneak back into your room. Until you feel safe again. It’s kind of a pointless question, considering how many times you’ve done this before and how many times they’ve let you. You ask it anyway.

The scoff that sounds moments before the mattress dips on your other side is answer enough. “You should probably just move in at this point. We’ll kick Iwa out, he can go sleep in bitch-face’s room.”

Although you know you shouldn’t, a not-so-nice grin tugs at your lips, nestling into Tooru’s side under the arm he offers, “She’d drive him homicidal in a week.”

“Doesn’t she already?” Hajime mutters. “And fuck off, if anyone’s moving out it’s you.” 

“You’d miss me too much.”

Absentmindedly, he rubs at your arm like it’s second nature. “In your dreams, Shitty-kawa.”

You can still hear Mr. Furukawa stomping around outside, snarling and snapping at no-one and nothing. Your pulse skitters, an inbuilt panic response. But the lights are off, you’re not being too noisy, and he’s wary of the other two.

He won’t come in here. 

“Relax, we’ve got you,” Tooru breathes, his nose nudging at your temple. “Where were you this afternoon?” His voice is so soft, a soothing rumble that it takes you a second to register what he’s said. 

“This afternoon?”

“Mm. You didn’t come home when you were supposed to. We were worried.”

He’s pouting, you can tell. Which– he can’t be genuinely bothered by it, it was only a few hours, and the Furukawas don’t care where you are or what you do so long as you’re back before curfew. You were. 

A distraction then?

“I went out with some friends. We hung out at the arcade for a bit,” your expression brightens, thinking of the lights and the laughter, your feet blurring as you hit the sensors on Dance Dance Revolution… poorly. “It was actually pretty fun!”

Tooru hums again, “Which friends?” at the same time that Hajime says, “You didn’t tell us you were going out.”

“I didn’t realise I had to check in.” And because the slightly bitter and very defensive edge to your tone catches even you by surprise, you sigh, softening. “I’m allowed to have friends, aren’t I? A social life?”

You’ve been in this home for a few months now, and this is the first time any of your classmates have invited you anywhere. 

This time it’s Tooru who sighs. He coaxes your face upwards with a hand on your cheek, peering through the dim light at you, “I’m not saying this to be cruel or hurt you, but… I need you to be more careful, okay?”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His thumb glides across your cheek bone, hesitating on whatever it is he wants to say– at least until Hajime huffs and mutters, “Just tell her, dude. You’re the one that brought it up.”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re a foster kid,” he reminds you, as if this is vital information that’s somehow slipped your mind. “That’s all they see when they look at us, all they’ll ever see. No money, no family, nothing worth wasting their time on. We’re charity cases at best, at worst…” he trails off, the sentence dangling in the air. 

He thinks it’s a trick, you realise. He thinks they’re setting you up in an elaborate joke where you’re the punchline. 

Bright blue eyes and a crooked grin flash in your head. Cheeks dusted pink and the warmth of his hand in yours. 

“That’s not true,” you defend, though the words sound weak even to your ears. 

Now that your eyes have adjusted to the dark, the gentle, pitying expression on his face twists at your insides like a knife. You hardly notice Hajime scooching closer, shifting the blankets so they cover you both, too busy staring at your foster brother with wide eyes and parted lips, a thick lump of emotion lodging itself in your throat. Tears prickle in the corners of your eyes, and you blink them back.

You won’t cry in front of them over this. You refuse.

“No? You’ve been here for months now. If they wanted to be your friend, truly, genuinely wanted that, why haven’t they made an effort before now? I’m not trying to be a dick,” he murmurs when your breathing hitches, “The kids in this town, they’re assholes. I just can’t bear the thought of someone hurting you.”

Hajime nods. “We only wanna protect you, imouto.”

But you don’t need to be protected. Omori isn’t like that. His friends aren’t either. 

—

When the last bell rings for the day, you walk down to the gates to find Hajime there, leaning against the brickwork with a pilfered cigarette dangling between his fingers. 

That in and of itself isn’t a surprise. Lately they’ve taken up the habit of ditching their last period to make the half mile trek to your school in order to walk back home with you. Most days, you don’t mind. Today, however–

“I sent you a message at lunch, you didn’t need to come all the way down here, I’m going to a friend’s place to study. Sorry, I thought you would’ve seen it before you left.”

He drops the cherry red remnants of his cigarette to the ground and grinds the butt under his heel, eyeing you slowly from head to toe. “Which friend?”

“When did you become so nosey?” you laugh, a touch uneasily. “It’s only for an hour or so, I’ll be back before dinner, promise. I’m all yours after that.” The last part’s meant to lighten the mood a little, yet something flashes in his eyes, a twitch in his jaw, and you get the sense that he doesn’t find it all that funny. 

“Which friend? That slimy piece of shit you were hanging out with last weekend?”

Omori? How does he–

You frown, “We went to the movies, Hajime, it’s not illegal. And he’s not slimy or a little shit, he’s my friend.” A friend who sets butterflies loose in your stomach and makes you weak at the knees, but Hajime doesn’t need to know that. 

“Oh, I’m sure he wants to be your friend,” he mutters darkly. 

Your cheeks burn hotly, “Why are you being like this? He’s a nice guy. Besides, it’s not him. I’m going to Masako’s to work on a group presentation we’ve got due in a few days. I didn’t think you’d make such a big deal out of it!”

“Your mistake,” he says, as if you’re the one being unreasonable here, and before you can spit out a retort, his hand is curled around your bicep, tugging you down the road. “C’mon, we’re going home. Tell your little friend you can work on your project tomorrow at lunch.” 

“Ha-Hajime!” His too tight grip on you doesn’t relent, his stride doesn’t falter. Nervously, you dart a glance around, half hoping that someone will intercede, all the while praying that no one’s actually noticed him dragging you off like a misbehaving toddler.

As always, you’re not that lucky. The sight of your classmates pointing your way, giggling behind their hands sends a hot pulse of shame flooding through you. 

“You know you’re not my actual brother, I don’t need your permission!” 

That does stop him, turning back around to throw a scowl at you, “No? Because I don’t see anyone else lining up to stop you from spreading your legs for the first asshole who comes sniffing around. Jesus Christ, weren’t you listening the other day?”

“I’m fourteen!” you shriek, ripping your arm away from him. “Stop being gross and leave me alone, I already told you I’m going to Masako’s. We have a project. For school!”

In an instant, he closes the gap between you. Hajime isn’t as tall as Tooru, but at two years older, he still towers over you, all broad shouldered and intense, and while he’s always cut an intimidating figure, it strikes you that this is the first time you’ve ever looked at him and felt afraid.

A split second later, and he exhales with a mumbled curse, the tension deflating from his body like a pin’s been pulled. In a quieter voice, hooking an arm over your neck to press a fleeting kiss to your hair, he says, “Sometimes it feels like I’m losing my damn mind trying to keep us all safe and sane and fucking together.”

It’s not exactly an apology. Still…you shift on your feet, nibbling at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry for snapping,” you mumble – an olive branch, even if you’re not feeling particularly charitable right now. The problem is, you do understand where he’s coming from. In two years, they’ll both age out, free to go and do whatever the hell they want. There’s a not insignificant part of you that’s terrified that when that time comes, they’re not gonna hang around another two years waiting for you. 

You’re not sure you can hold them to that promise. 

And that’s if nothing happens before then. Foster kids in group homes get shuffled all the time, there’s no guarantee all three of you will still be with the Furukawas come their 18th birthdays. 

Of course he’s over-protective. Of course he’s being a little nuts about it. 

Hajime nods, pats you on the head and gives you a rare smile, “Good. Now get your ass moving, we gotta get home.”

“Wait, but I thought–” you’d apologised, he’d admitted he was overreacting… sort of. Isn’t that enough?

“Social worker’s coming by this afternoon. Furukawa wants us to play happy families ‘til they’re gone. Your friend’s gonna have to wait.”

And that’s that. 

Dejection washes over you, trudging back home with Hajime – trying not to be childish and petty and hold it against him.

The social worker never shows, but there’s a message waiting on your phone when you finally manage to pry yourself away from Hajime and Tooru.

Your brother’s a dick. Raincheck? ;)

Butterflies erupt. 

—

You’ve been biting your lip again.

The raw, chapped evidence stares back at you in the mirror. 

A few days ago, they were a little swollen, rough and reddened. The sight of it sent a giddy sort of thrill through you, a physical – if not sore – reminder of your afternoon spent kissing a cute boy with very pretty blue eyes. 

Now, the state of your lips is the least of your worries. You’ll bite your lips, gnaw on your fingernails right down to the quick, pace and think and pace and think, fingers tap, tap tapping at your side.

“You look tired.” 

The arms that loop around your shoulders, dragging you back into a loose hug don’t bring the sense of comfort they usually do. Things have been weird between you. Off.

Ever since Tooru caught sight of your face that day, saw the messages on your phone. 

‘I never took you for a liar, imouto.’

The resultant argument left you choking on sobs, heart-broken and beaten down in a way that you haven’t felt since you found out your parents died. 

It’s a strange, alienating thing to be cut so viciously by the only people who give a damn about you.

At first, you had Omori there to help pick up the pieces. He wasn’t allowed over, of course, and even if he were, you doubt it’d do anything but throw a whole gallon of kerosene on the fire. Still, being able to message and vent to him felt like a lifeline. 

And then he simply… stopped replying. Your last message sitting there for two days on read.

You tried not to feel hurt. Maybe this whole thing was too intense, too quick. My god, you weren’t even dating officially, he was just, you were–

It was fine. Not everyone’s tied to their phone, and he doesn’t owe you anything. Maybe something came up, maybe his phone died.

But then, come Monday, he wasn’t in school.

On Tuesday morning, sitting in first period maths, a grim-faced man in a dull suit informs your class that Omori’s been missing since Saturday morning. You’re passed a business card with the detective’s name and phone number printed in crisp, black font and encouraged to contact him if there’s anything you can think of that might help them.

Uneasy looks are shared. No one says a word.

Which brings you to today, to the hug Tooru’s drawn you into and his voice murmuring at your ear. 

“Aren’t you still mad at me?”

His laugh rumbles at your back, “Maybe I miss you too much.”

You should tell him to shove it. Whether you’re in the right or the wrong, it’s not fair of him to play hot and cold with you like this. Being at odds with your brothers is painful enough on its own, dealing with that on top of everything with Omori – it’s too much. You’ll drown under the weight of it.

And so you turn, wrapping your arms around his middle and burying yourself against him. “I don’t wanna fight anymore. I’m sorry.”

While he doesn’t say anything back, he does squeeze you that little bit tighter. You’re content with that, soaking up the affection and comfort you’ve sorely been without. It’s an apology, yes. It’s also forgiveness. 

“Where’s Hajime?” you ask after a little while. They aren’t inseparable by any means, but you don’t think you’ve seen him this afternoon at all. 

Rather than answering you, the brunet pulls back enough to meet your gaze, a twinkle in his eyes, “We’re going out tonight.”

The words bring you up short. “But–”

“Furukawa won’t know a thing. It’ll be fun, pinky promise.” He holds out said pinky, the grin on his face infectious enough that you offer a tiny one of your own, locking your finger around his.

He winks. 

—

“Sweetheart, shall we open the wine?”

She hasn’t stopped beaming all afternoon, delighted at the flowers and the gifts, your dad humming away in the kitchen, cooking enough to feed a small army.  

Heisuke’s already plucking a bottle from the fridge, glasses set out on the counter. He lifts a questioning brow in your direction and you nod with as much of a smile as you can muster. Nothing sounds more appealing to you right now than a drink.

Several of them, actually. You’ll start with one.

“Thanks,” you murmur when he passes it to you. 

Quietly enough that your parents won’t hear, he asks, “You good?”

“I’m good,” you reassure him, lying through your teeth. His knuckles knock against yours, and when you glance up, there’s a wordless promise that the two of you aren’t done with this. 

He’s been watching you ever since you got home. Not in the predatory, possessive way they used to, just… you very reluctantly gave him crumbs – not even that much – yet he’s staring at you like you’re a piece of a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. He’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, and you don’t know how to deal with it. 

It makes you nervous.

“Did something happen between you two?” The quiet voice at your side startles you – perhaps you’re more on edge than you’d like to admit, because your whole body flinches, the wine in your glass sloshing up over the rim, just barely avoiding your dress and the edge of the couch. 

You hadn’t even noticed your mom had sat down.

Cursing under your breath, you jump up before she can, snatching some paper towels from the kitchen, paying no mind the slight, disapproving tilt to your father’s mein (the one which, to his credit, he does try to hide) to mop up the mess on the floor.

“Sorry,” you throw out, both for the spill and for swearing, because that too is something neither of your parents are fond of, but your mom’s quick to wave it away.

“Nonsense. You’re fine, sweet girl. Come, sit!” She pats the seat you’ve vacated. “Relax.”

Your dad’s in the kitchen, laughing with Hei. Your mom’s still happy – it’s slowly leaching from her eyes the longer she looks at you, the more she sees. Relax. 

Today’s supposed to be a happy day.

Relax. 

You can’t.

They know some of your past. Bits and pieces. 

In ten years, you’ve never uttered a single word about them. Not to anyone. 

The more you shove it down, the more it fights back, bubbling away inside of you like the tempest of a storm. You can feel yourself cracking, unshed tears burning at your eyes. 

You can’t.

“… Mom–”

A knock cuts through the rising tide of emotion battering through you, and all four of you start. 

Your dad moves first, drying his hands and striding on over to answer it. On his way, he glances to where you and your mom are sitting – instinctively. Unthinkingly. He glances her way a thousand times a day – to check in, to see what she’s doing, to catch those little expressions she makes, only this time he isn’t met with the picture of a happy wife and daughter. You see it when it hits him, the tension, your wrought expression, the hand your mom’s slipped you in the seconds since, holding you tight and keeping you tethered.

You see it when he does a double take, sharp surprise quickly overtaken by alarm. 

Another knock at the door. Louder. 

His head snaps back towards the door, glaring at it like it’s personally wronged him. “One sec,” he mutters to no one in particular, and your mom squeezes your hand as he yanks it open with a touch more force than necessary.

“Yes?”

The air punches out of your lungs.

From where you’re sitting, the door cracked ajar, your dad’s frame blocking the gap, you can’t see who’s there. Not until he peeks over your dad’s shoulder, his charming grin widening into something shark-like and predatory when he spots you, delighted. 

An elevator careening out of control, your stomach plummets.

Ignoring your dad – your family as a whole – entirely, Oikawa addresses you. “You dropped this this morning. Clumsy girl.” 

Iwa passes him something, your wallet, you realise when he holds it out to you, waving it like a dog treat. 

Your wallet with your ID, this address, tucked away inside. 

The wallet you absolutely, in no way dropped. 

Primarily on instinct, shaking like a newborn foal, you start to rise, to stumble forward and take it from him, only it’s Heisuke who moves first. Angrier than you think you’ve ever seen him, he plants himself between you, one arm outstretched as if to keep you back, his withering gaze fixed on the duo.

“Thank you for returning it,” he bites out. “You can leave now.”

For your parents, already on edge, suspicious by their familiarity and your reaction to it, it’s enough to set their hackles up. Gone is any semblance of politeness when your father snatches your wallet from Oikawa’s fingers, “Go.”

Up until now, Oikawa’s paid them all the attention one would a gnat, an annoyance maybe, but one hardly worth acknowledging. That changes as his head tilts, dark eyes appraising your father. 

“What’s the rush?” he asks, reaching behind him. You can’t see it, what with your dad and now Heisuke standing between you, but there’s movement, your dad lets out a sudden, choked off gurgle, lurching back inside. 

Your eyes widen, a bone chilling horror taking hold of you as you spy the sleek black handle of a knife sticking out his gut, a slow stain of red seeping out around it. 

“We’ve still got so much catching up to do.”

—

You’ve never been this far into the woods before.

Stars glitter overhead, condensation from your breath puffing out with every exhale. It’s cold out. The path you’re walking isn’t one of the trails they lay for hikers and tourists, and you’ve been walking for a while. 

Still, Tooru’s hand is warm entwined with yours, and there’s that wicked thrill in your belly that comes from breaking the rules, doing secret, exciting things in the dead of night.

“Is Hajime waiting for us?” you ask, when you can hold the question back no longer.

“Always Hajime with you, isn’t it,” he teases. “Y’know, a guy could develop a complex with all this favouritism being thrown around.”

You’re pulled closer into his side even as he says it, and you go happily. You’ve got your brothers back – tonight you’re only thinking good thoughts. 

Tonight he promised you fun.

A giddy bounce in your step, you follow where your big brother leads until you spot a glow in the trees ahead, smell the smoke on the mid-autumn breeze.

Tooru grins in the dark, “Have you ever been to a bonfire?”

You shake your head. 

It takes another few minutes before you can see the fire in all its grandeur, Hajime standing off to the side, warming his hands against the flames. They dance through the clearing, bright and high and hot, hot enough that you briefly consider shedding the jacket Tooru swaddled you up in before you left.

A bonfire? 

They built this for you?

You look incredulously to Tooru, “This is where he’s been all day?”

“More or less.”

“Do you like it, pretty girl?” Hajime calls out when you’re closer. Your hand slips from Tooru’s as you leap forward, allowing him to catch you in his arms and tug you against him, and like earlier with Tooru, it eases some of the hurt weighing you down. He’s here, he’s not angry anymore, you can fight and argue like siblings but they aren’t going anywhere. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, smoothing down your hair. “It’s pretty cool,” you tell him with a decisive nod, making him chuckle. 

“Maybe we should add more accelerant,” Tooru says, eyeing the flames with a considering look. “I don’t know if it’s hot enough.”

Hajime scoffs, “We don’t need any more accelerant.”

“But–”

“It’s fine, dumbass. Leave it.”

Heaving out a long suffering sigh, Tooru takes the space on your other side. In the Western movies you’ve seen, these bonfire things usually have more of a party-like vibe. There’s music and dancing. Drinking. This is something wholly different.

You don’t mind the quiet, though, sitting between your brothers on the fallen log they dragged over. Listening to the crackle of the fire. Watching red embers spark and fly off into the night. 

You’ve missed this. Them. 

In the hypnosis of the fire, the heat that covers you like a blanket – burning strongly enough, despite what Tooru thinks, that down to a tee-shirt, leaning into Hajime’s side, Tooru playing with your fingers, you feel you could so easily drift off to sleep, sated and content.

“You love us, don’t you?” Tooru says it so quietly, so off-handedly, that for a moment you don’t hear the stinging accusation beneath the words. 

When it does, whatever fleeting contentment you’d managed to wrap yourself up in is ripped away, leaving you cold and exposed. 

A slap in the face might’ve stung less.

You gape at him. At the both of them. “How can you ask me that?”

Tooru shrugs, casual and cruel, “I dunno. You lied to us. Multiple times.”

“Snuck around behind our backs,” Hajime adds.

“Kept things from us. Don’t think we haven’t noticed the new lock on your phone, imouto. Doesn’t sound like love to me.”

“I– I’ve already apologised.” You try to keep your voice calm and level, but with every word that pours out of you, the faster your heart beats and the more distress leaks into your tone. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I lied, I’m sorry I went behind your backs, I’m sorry I kissed him! I don’t know what you want from me, I don’t know how to fix this!” 

Hot tears spring to your eyes, stinging as you ferociously blink them back. 

If you start crying now, they’ll probably just mock you. That, or they’ll claim that you’re trying to manipulate them into feeling bad with crocodile tears and hiccuping sniffles. 

In a tiny voice, you say, “I didn’t do any of it to hurt you. Please,” you beg helplessly. “You can’t keep holding it over my head and punishing me for it.”

“You think we’re punishing you?” Tooru asks, still in that cold, flat tone that makes you want to sob.

Aren’t they? Sure feels like it.

Hajime lets out a heavy exhale, shaking his head and staring up at the night sky. “You still don’t fucking get it.” 

Hands slip under your armpits and without warning you find yourself hoisted onto Tooru’s lap. It’s whiplash, especially when he curls around you, those lithe arms caging you in, and presses a kiss to your burning cheek. “Iwa, brute that he is, is right. You’re not listening to us. This isn’t punishment. You can pretend to hate us, cry, yell, fight. You can try to shut us out if that’s what you feel you need, but this,” his chin juts out at the bonfire crackling merrily a few feet away, “this is love.” He shivers as he says it, voice like honey. “We did it for you, and I’d do so much more.”

Your head’s still spinning, reeling from being yanked from one extreme to another. Hot and cold. Spiteful to affectionate. You stare at the fire, but you don’t understand. 

“Yeah, like you didn’t enjoy the hell out of it,” Hajime snorts, which makes even less sense.

“…You mean the– the bonfire?”

Tooru laughs. His nose skims along the shell of your ear, earning him a shiver of your own. “Hm, almost.”

So you peer at the fire like it’s supposed to give you the answers you need. There’s nothing. It’s a fire, there’s nothing special about…

Oh.

You learn forward – as much as the cage of his embrace will allow, at any rate – squinting a little. Nestled beneath the stacked logs and kindling, there’s an oddly shaped lump, black and gnarled, with ridges and a scooped out hollow that kinda looks like–

Your blood runs cold. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” he croons. “You’ve been so sad all week, wondering where your friend up and disappeared to. Aren’t you glad to see him again?”

“No.” Whisper soft, the noise lost to the crackling of the fire. You shake your head, “This– you’re being cruel. Stop it, it’s not funny.” 

But the tears you’ve so valiantly held back are falling, your breath coming in short, panicky gasps. The skull in the fire doesn’t look fake, and if this is a prank, it’s gone beyond too far.

Your head grows light and all too heavy at the same time, “That isn’t– you didn’t– you… you– you wouldn’t–”

“No?” the voice at your ear questions, low and dangerous. “You think I wouldn’t stab the little fuck after you kissed him?”

“Stop it,” you tearfully beg, squeezing your eyes shut. The skull’s still there, burned into the back of your eyelids. 

No, no, no. Omori isn’t dead. 

Omori isn’t dead.

Your heart slams against your ribs, a violent chorus to the swell of sick dread and fear you’re desperately trying to tamp down. Omori isn’t dead!

“STOP IT!” 

They wouldn’t kill him. 

The crunch of footsteps sounds, and you don’t need your vision to know that Hajime’s now crouching in front of you. When rough fingers seize your jaw, holding you in place, and he leans in close, almost nose to nose, they fly open regardless. 

“You ever try that shit again, and next time we’ll drag you by the fucking hair and do it in front of you,” he promises, calm despite the fury that rages in his eyes. 

Caged between them, Hajime appraises you, taking in your hysteria, the tears dripping down your face, your bottom lip quivering – as though he’s committing the sight to memory. His eyes dart to Tooru’s for a brief second, the latter squeezing your side, before he speaks. “If you’d listened to us in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t make us into monsters, sweetheart.”

Your fault is what you hear. 

There’s a loud pop from the fire, and you lose it entirely. 

You explode. Elbows flying, kicking, clawing. A wild, terrified, desperate thing, and it takes them by surprise – enough to catch Tooru in the gut, loosening his grip. Enough to knock Hajime back onto his ass. A gap, however small, for you to scramble to your knees, violently kicking back when a hand snatches at your ankle, and flee through the woods in the dark, away from the furious shouts, the raging footsteps chasing after you. 

You run and your lungs burn, heaving for every breath. 

The light of the bonfire disappears behind you, plunging the forest into an inky black, and the shouts and yells turn into calls of your name, then coaxing pleas, almost sounding worried. Eventually, those grow distant too, and fade away altogether. 

You keep running, uncertain of where you’re going. No, blind to it entirely. All that matters is keeping out of their reach. You’ll run to the ends of the earth if you have to. 

And so you push until your legs scream for a reprieve, until you taste iron on your tongue and when your body can keep the pace no longer, you stumble through the underbrush, tripping over roots and branches instead, pausing every once in a while to lean against a tree and catch your breath. 

As your adrenaline fades and the sweat dampening your clothes cools, the cold night air bites like needles at your skin, you start to shiver, rubbing at your exposed arms in an effort to generate a little warmth. Bitterly, you remember that the jacket that you’d brought, the one Tooru had all but forced on you before you’d left, is back at the bonfire, slung over a nearby log. Useless to you now. 

But the shivers that wrack your body aren’t solely from the dropping temperature.

Every snapping branch, hoot of an owl, rustle of leaves sends a fresh wave of terror spiking through you. You think of Tooru’s cruel smirk and Hajime’s bruising grip, of Omori’s skull staring back at you from the fire, flesh melted to the bone, black and twisted, and a ragged, distraught sob brings you to your knees.

Hopelessly lost, cold, frightened and alone, you curl into the dirt and cry. 

—

Hikers find you at dawn. 

Emergency services are called – an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital to be poked and prodded, police to question why a fourteen year old girl was wandering the woods alone at night.

They treat you for dehydration and mild hypothermia, a few small cuts and scrapes, and when a soft spoken nurse pulls the curtain around your bed and gently asks if you’d like them to perform a rape kit, you blanch and shake your head. Eventually, they allow the detective into the room. In his late forties, bespectacled, a smattering of grey dusted throughout his close cropped black hair, he pulls up a chair beside the bed and patiently asks how you’re feeling.

If you were a better person, you’d tell him everything. The Furukawas’ abuse, your foster brothers’ increasingly overprotective behaviour, sneaking behind their back to see Omori and the fight that followed that nearly ripped you apart. 

The bonfire.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

Omori deserves that much. His parents should know what happened to their son.

Your jacket lying forgotten by his bones. 

“Please don’t take me back there,” you mumble, tears shining in your eyes. 

Back to the woods, or the Furukawas. Back to the boys you’d loved who’d murdered for you.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter that that’s all they can get out of you. A traumatised teenager found miles from home without a single soul raising the alarm would be one thing. When that traumatised teenager’s a girl supposedly under the care of government approved guardians, it raises red flags not even they can ignore.

By lunch, they’ve arranged for you to be placed back in an all-girl orphanage until a more suitable, long term solution can be found.

—

Some nights you dream that you’re back there, in their bedroom at the Furukawas’. It’s dark and cozy, there’s an arm slung over your waist and you find yourself drifting off to the steady beat of the heart behind you, soft snores by your ear.

They’re nice dreams. You feel safe, loved. 

Tucked away in your subconscious, nothing exists but the sanctuary of them, and when you inevitably feel that tug of awareness coaxing you awake, you sink your fingers in and cling to it for dear life. 

Just another minute. Another few seconds. Please.

Right now, you’d give anything to wake up and have this be nothing more than a nightmare you can banish. 

But there’s no escaping this one. Your dad’s on the living room floor by the couch, hunkered over, pale and sweaty, pressing what was once a clean dish towel to the wound in his stomach. The coffee table’s been pushed to the side, Heisuke and your mom sat on the chairs Oikawa dragged into its place, ankles zip-tied to the legs, wrists bound, duct tape slapped across both of their mouths. Between the knife Oikawa idly toys with, still wet with blood, the handgun held loosely in Iwa’s palm and your dad slowly bleeding out on the floor, they’ve been compliant. 

Much like you have, although you’re neither bound nor gagged, sitting in the armchair Iwa ushered you to, arms looped around your knees with the man himself perched against the backrest.

The only one of you making any kind of noise at all is your dad, his voice a slurring mumble, words near intelligible. He’s begging, you can tell that much. Pleading through gritted teeth for them to let you go, not to hurt you, your mom, Hei. 

You desperately wanna tell him to save his breath, but you can’t even look at him – at any of them – without wanting to throw up.

“Do you still love us, imouto?”

Your eyes track Oikawa as he leans over the two chairs, the edge of his knife carelessly poised above Heisuke’s shoulder. From your periphery you see him flinch and stiffen, the sharp uptick of his breath smothered by duct tape, but you don’t dare shift your attention from the brunet smiling genially back at you.

Your heart squeezes, clenched by an invisible fist. Buried deep beneath the guilt and the paralysing dread, a slightly hysterical part of you almost wants to laugh. 

“Do you think I could ever stop?” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes and his grin widens. “You ran,” he accuses.

“You ran again this morning,” Iwa adds, sounding far less amused.

“I was scared.”

“Of us?” Iwa slides off the back of the couch, straightening up. In an instant, his hand’s wrapped around your throat, the broad pad of his thumb forcing your jaw upwards. “You think we’d ever fucking hurt you?” he growls, looking genuinely angry. 

Distantly you register the sound of Heisuke’s muffled indignation, another gasping wheeze from your dad, but all that fades to the background as Iwa’s mouth crashes against yours.

He doesn’t kiss you sweetly. It’s invasive, rough. His hand flexes around your throat, forcing a gasp to drive his tongue between your lips, and you can feel every ounce of possession, of pent up need and frustration as he drags it on despite the awkward angle. 

When he does break away, eyes darkened and simmering, he holds your gaze, ignoring the pointed throat clearing from the other side of the room. “Never,” he swears, waiting for you to nod before finally relaxing his grip. “Good girl.” To Oikawa, watching you both with a barely constrained hunger, he says, “Enough screwing around. Do it and let’s go.”

Oikawa huffs, rolling his eyes, “Fine. Should’ve known you’d get all impatient after you had a taste.”

“Like you’re not?”

There’s not enough air in the room, your heart’s doing somersaults in your chest, your pulse hammering through your veins. Oikawa stares at you, head tilted, the corner of his lip slowly curling up as you start to tremble, shaking your head, tears beading at your lashes, “I guess we could hurry it along.”

“No, please–” 

“Shh, sweet girl. It’s okay.” You try to stand up, but Iwa takes a hold of your shoulder and forces you back down. “Me and Iwa, we were gonna give you a choice. Let you pick. If you could kill one of them, we’d let the other two go.”

A strangled sob rips its way free, your whole body shuddering with the force of it.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. We’re not gonna make you do that,” he comforts, side-stepping your now thrashing brother to make his way over towards you. “Cause the thing is, they kept you from us. Lied to you. Manipulated you. Whether they meant to or not, they hurt you. I don’t think they deserve that kind of mercy, do you?”

“No, no, no, please! Please don’t, please don’t hurt them–”

Abandoning his knife, he drops to a crouch in front of you, “We’re gonna make it right, and then we’ll go home, okay? We’ll take care of it.”

“Please, Tooru! I’ll do anything!”

There’s a kiss pressed to the crown of your head, the cushion behind your back being tugged free. “You don’t need to do anything,” Iwa says, the cold cocking of his gun echoing like a death knell.

 “We love you. This one’s on us.”

[sweetiesicheng]

seventeen - bad influence

the8 x reader

word count : 2,313

pretty sure i started writing this when i heard “bad influence” during the lv show

-

"come on, let's go already!" chan whines as you finish putting some makeup on.

"quit it. we're trying to look hot," your other roommate says while taking the cap off of their bottle of setting spray.

"you guys are hot! let's go! mingyu has been waiting in the car for twenty minutes, and i need a drink! desperately!" chan says and leaves the room. you hear him leave the house while you start cleaning up a bit.

"well, we better hurry before he loses it," you say to your roommate as they spray setting spray on their face.

"they can wait," your roommate says while starting to fix their hair. “chan’s just desperate to drink since those dating apps are killing him.”

"here, i'll help you," you say and stand up. you move to stand behind them and fix their hair for them while they clean up their makeup. "okay, you look good.”

you two leave the house and find chan and mingyu outside. mingyu leans against his car while chan stands there with his arms crossed.

"hey there," mingyu greets both of you. you give him a wave.

"took you guys long enough," chan sighs and opens the car door for you.

"oh please, you practically took as long as us trying to pick your clothes," your roommate says to him.

mingyu chuckles and walks around to the other side of his car to get into the driver's seat while the rest of you get into the passenger seats.

"hey, we gotta grab seokmin. he's along the way," mingyu says to all of you and starts driving away from your street.

"is his car still in the shop?" your roommate asks.

"they screwed him over. he probably won't get it back until next week," chan mentions.

after a few minutes, you make it to seokmin’s apartment building, where he is waiting outside.

"hey guys," seokmin greets as he gets into the backseat, sitting next to you.

"ready to party?" you ask him.

he smiles, "always."

after some time driving through the city, you make it to the club that all of you had been invited to. a few of your friends own the place, so it's not too hard to get your names on the list.

mingyu parks his car down the road since it's already pretty packed, and all of you make it to the front door. there's a line of other people hoping to get in, which makes you wonder how long they have been waiting.

"names?" one bouncer asks while another holds a clipboard. you tell them your names and the bouncer with the clipboard nods, so the first bouncer lets all of you in after doing an age check.

you go into the club and find multitudes of people. people dancing, people drinking, people just having a good time.

"i see them," mingyu says, nodding his head to the corner of the room. there's a giant l.e.d. sign and a bunch of people crowding around.

you hold onto chan's arm so you don't get separated and head to the corner of the room. once you make it, you find some people you know taking shots together.

"hey, where's ours?" chan asks when you get to a table.

"right here. hurry up," seungkwan says and pushes over some shot glasses on the table.

"hey, glad you could make it tonight," joshua greets all of you. you greet him with a short hug.

"we wouldn't miss the man of the hour," you say to him.

"plus, we're part of the reason that you can get this much booze for tonight," one of your friends says as they hand you a glass with a drink in it.

"and i thanked you guys graciously with tonight and dinner on me next week," joshua reminds them. "order whatever and put it on cheol's tab. a bunch of us are splitting it later," he adds before greeting some other people.

you drink the cocktail that your roommate handed to you and talk to vernon, who is visiting town for the weekend.

"filming took forever," vernon sighs, "i was gonna be here a few days ago and go with jeonghan to his premiere, but we had to reshoot a bunch of stuff because of the weather.”

"jeonghan will probably have another premiere next week. he was booked all of last year," you say to him. "oh, i just remembered that your manager called me about getting new headshots done," you say to him, "i think i have you booked once you're done filming."

he nods, "cool. yea, he wanted me to get new ones since it's been awhile. he’ll probably ask for a new comp card if you have time too.” you nod your head and take a sip of your drink.

“y/n?”

when your name is called, you turn your head and see a familiar face looking at you from a break in the crowd. that familiar face unfortunately belongs to your ex.

“oh, hey,” you greet and turn to vernon. “why is he here?” you whisper loud enough for only him to hear.

"i didn't invite him," vernon whispers back. "i'll grab cheol. don’t do anything stupid," he says and walks away to find one of the owners.

"who invited you? jun? joshua?" your ex asks you, walking up to you. he stands right in front of you with barely any space between you two. you can smell the alcohol, but he’s clearly coherent enough to talk to you.

you stand your ground, trying not to be upset that he's here. "joshua did. we are celebrating him after all," you reply. "why are you here? did you get invited here tonight?”

"i'm still one of the boys," he says to you.

you raise an eyebrow, "didn't think you were, considering the last time i saw you. remind me, what's her name?"

he becomes a bit irritated as both of you recall the last time you saw each other. that night in his home was the last night of your relationship.

"that was one time, y/n. you make it seem like i'm scum," he says to you.

"cause you are."

seungcheol and vernon appear next to you. the owner takes a step forward and gets into your ex’s space.

"don't remember your name being on the list," seungcheol adds.

"hey man. this is a private matter," he says to seungcheol.

seungcheol leans in, "get the hell out of here."

knowing how seungcheol can get, your ex steps back. you see some bouncers ready to grab him, but he leaves on his own accord instead.

"you good?" seungcheol asks you once the coast is clear.

you sigh, "yea. thanks guys," you say to him and vernon.

"it's all good. you need anything?" seungcheol asks you.

you shake your head, "i'm good."

"vernon?"

"nah, i'm good man," vernon replies.

seungcheol smiles before walking back to the table he was sitting at with a few of your friends.

"vernon! come over here!"

both of you turn your heads when someone calls vernon over.

you look back at him, "go. i'll be around," you say to him.

he nods, "yea. i'll be back."

he walks away while you look around. you find a few of the guys sitting at a booth and join them.

"y/n, your ex was here?" jihoon asks you as you sit down.

you sigh, "yea, cheol got him out though," you mention.

"how the hell did that cheater get in here? i checked the list earlier," jun asks and moves some of the empty bottles and cups around on the table.

"maybe he waited in line with the rest of the crowd? the club wasn't closed tonight," soonyoung replies. "here, drink this. it's good,” he says and hands you a drink.

you take a sip and immediately nod your head, “that’s good stuff. who’s working the bar tonight?” you ask, looking over at the bustling bar top.

“think it’s just the usual,” jun answers. “yea, i see minghao and some of the other bartenders over there.”

“who’s minghao?” you ask.

“he’s one of my friends from college. he’s a bartender, and he’s hella good at it,” jun answers. “you two haven’t met yet?” he asks.

“not that i recall? but to be fair, you know a lot of people,” you say to him.

he shrugs, “not that many people.”

“dude, you work in the international sector at your job,” soonyoung reminds jun, “you make new friends literally everywhere.”

“yea, you hooked us up with some great clients because of your work,” jihoon adds.

“and you guys are very welcome for helping your job security,” jun says to both of them. “let me out, i’m gonna grab some food,” he says to you.

“oh, bring us some,” soonyoung says as you get out of the booth to let jun out.

“yea, i’m hungry,” you add.

“yea, yea, yea, i got it,” jun says and disappears into the crowd of people.

seconds later, and you can no longer see jun, “we lost him,” you announce to the others.

you continue talking with jihoon and soonyoung about life since it’s been awhile for the three of you to be together. while talking, some more of your friends come and go, catching up with conversations while celebrating joshua’s new company that he started up.

the energy in the club stays at a constant high with people enjoying the energy and drinks in their systems. soonyoung eventually leaves to join chan and mingyu on the dance floor, but you lose him to the crowd after a bit.

eventually, jun returns with some more people, “i brought friends and food,” he mentions as him and wonwoo put plates of finger foods on the table. “where’s soonyoung?” he asks.

“dancing,” jihoon answers, “he’s probably trying to get a girl’s number while he’s out there.”

“he still doesn’t have a girlfriend?” jeonghan asks while snacking.

one of their friends sits next to you with jun on the end. jeonghan sits next to jihoon with wonwoo on their end.

“soonyoung with a girlfriend? with how he is?” their friend asks.

“hey, you never know,” jun replies. “oh, y/n, this is minghao,” he introduces minghao to you. “he works here sometimes too.”

“i only work here when seungcheol’s desperate for another bartender,” minghao replies. “nice to meet you.”

you nod with a smile, “likewise.”

“how’s the bar? heard you’re opening another one,” wonwoo speaks.

“the other one is still in the works. seungcheol is helping me out with it,” minghao mentions.

“hey guys! come over here!” someone from the standing crowd calls out.

you look over and see some guys pulling out stuff to play beer pong. you shake your head, notice how chan looks eager to play. you can barely hear them mention how much vodka they put into the cups.

“didn’t know this was gonna be a frat party,” you comment.

jihoon scoffs, “have you met any of them?”

jihoon, jeonghan, jun, and wonwoo leave the booth to join in on the game while you nurse your mixed drink that you’ve had for awhile now. minghao stays at the table as well, wanting to take a break since he had been working behind the bar for a couple of hours.

“does it still taste alright? you’ve had it for awhile now,” minghao asks, pointing out your drink.

you nod, “it’s fine. i just don’t want to get another one and waste it.”

“you aren’t wasting anything with how much everyone else will be paying,” he replies. “come with me,” he says while getting out of the booth. he holds his hand out to you.

you take his hand and follow him upstairs to the second floor of the club. it’s normally closed off for private events, but it seems to be open tonight. however, there aren’t too many people upstairs since the real partying is downstairs.

minghao goes behind the bar and starts making a drink. when he’s done, he hands it to you.

“you’re a bad influence on me,” you say to him and take the freshly made drink. you take a sip. “oh, this is good.”

minghao chuckles, “i didn’t put that much alcohol in it,” he mentions and starts making himself another drink.

you stand by the opening to get behind the bar, watching minghao work. he finishes making his drink and puts away the tools and bottles he used.

he joins you, leaning against the wall. you two clink your glasses together.

“you’re pretty good at this, huh?” you say to him.

“i would hope so. i own two bars,” he replies.

your phone buzzes and you take a peek. you see texts from your roommate, asking if you want to stay longer. you text them back saying that you do want to stay longer and that you’ll find them later.

“who was that?” minghao asks you.

“my roommate. they were asking if i want to stay. chan is probably still trying to get a date anyways,” you answer and put your phone away. “besides, i shouldn’t keep you alone,” you say to him.

he smiles, “yea, i’d like your company for a bit longer,” he says to you.

you continue to hang out with minghao upstairs before eventually going back downstairs. you two return to the booth you were at earlier but continue to get to know each other.

“minghao, come here. need some help,” seungcheol calls over in the midst of your conversation.

“oh, sure. give me a minute,” minghao replies. he looks back at you, “i’ll be back.”

you smile and nod. “you better. i still haven’t gotten your phone number yet,” you say to him.

he chuckles while leaning in towards you, “don’t worry. you’ll get it when i come back,” he says and kisses your cheek.

[lottiesboy]

a day out in westview!!

pairing: cg!agatha harkness x little!reader

summary: you spend the day with your mama and aunt wanda.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!agatha, aunt!wanda, pacis, shopping, eating, reader being a bit of a fussy baby, agatha and wanda spoiling you :3

“babyyyy, wakey wakey.” agatha rubbed your tummy. you woke up slowly, feeling your paci the fell out of your mouth in the night beside you. you put it in your mouth sleepily, making agatha coo.

“awww,,, c’mere, sleepy baby. are you excited to go out with wanda today?” she picked you up from your crib, patting your back as your head rested on her shoulder. you whined sleepily in response.

there was a knock at the door, which made agatha yell, “coming!” you woke up a little bit at that. agatha walked to open the door, hearing wanda greet her from the other side. “am i too early?”

“oh no, not at all! it’ll only take me a little while to get the baby dressed.” agatha let wanda in, going back to your nursery to get you dressed and freshened up. while doing so, you woke up a little more.

“aww, you’re so cute, bunny. feeling more awake now?” agatha pinched your cheek. “mm hm, mama.”

agatha grabbed your diaper bag, slinging it on her shoulder. “let’s go see wanda, huh?” she clipped you paci to your shirt, holding your hand. you walked out to the living room, seeing wanda on the couch.

“hi, sweetheart! c’mere!” wanda gasped. you came over and she gave you a big hug. every time you saw your aunt wanda, she was always so sweet.

soon, the three of you got into agatha’s car and took off, you sitting in the backseat. agatha thought it would be a good idea to go out for lunch before the mall, since all of you were hungry.

-

you woke up to agatha unbuckling your seatbelt. “had a little nap, baby? are you hungry?” she helped you out of the seat. agatha held your hand as all of you walked into the little cafe. you were seated quickly and given menus, but agatha proudly asked for a little coloring page for you. the waitress had no problem with it, and gave you the activity sheet with crayons.

after ordering, wanda and your mama were talking about grownup stuff while you were coloring, laying your head against agatha’s shoulder. “mama, color.” you looked up at her, butting into wanda and agatha’s conversation. you didn’t mean to, but you just wanted attention.

“mama’ll color with you, baby.” she wrapped her arm around you and grabbed a purple crayon, doodling on the page with you. “you’re coloring so well, sweetheart.” wanda complimented with a smile. “thank you.” you said shyly. wanda watched you and agatha play tic tac toe, which she totally didn’t let you win.

when the food got to you, agatha cut yours in small pieces. “wan some, mama.” you pointed to agatha’s plate of pasta. “what do you say?”

“pease, mama.”

agatha smiled, twirling some pasta onto her fork for you. she fed you, wiping the sauce of your chin. “yummy?” she asked and you nodded.

the three of you finished up eating, agatha buying you a milkshake for dessert. wanda and agatha split the bill, and the three of you walked out, ready to go shopping. agatha grabbed the milkshake out of your hand to hold it while crossing the street. you pouted when she took a sip.

“mama, that my milkshake!”

“mama bought it for you, bunny. it’s what i call the “mama tax.” she unlocked the car, taking another sip and giving it back to you. you couldn’t help but smile at how silly your mama was.

-

when the three of you got to the mall, you wanted to go to the toy store immediately, but agatha wanted to get you some new clothes first. what felt like several minutes of agatha saying, “mama’s almost done” or her helping you try on clothes, you started to get restless and a little whiny.

agatha didn’t want to risk you having a tantrum in this store, so she finished up and paid for everything, telling wanda how absolutely adorable you’re gonna look in your new sweaters.

“oh crap! i forgot i needed to take the blouse back. it’s in the trunk.” agatha was about to start walking back to her car, then she heard your complaints about the toy store. “we’ll see toys in a minute, baby.”

you were very upset because you didn’t wanna wait in another boring clothing store for a million hours!!! but wanda had an idea.

“what if i take the little one while you take care of that blouse?” wanda’s hand began you rub your back. “oh, wanda, you’re a lifesaver.” agatha tapped her shoulder and wanda smiled. “you be good for your auntie, okay bunny? mama’s gonna be right back.” she kissed your cheek, letting you and wanda finally see some toys!!!

there was so many toys and stuffies, you got a little overstimulated because there was so much to choose from. “you like those stuffies, sweet pea? oh, that looks so cuddly.” wanda smiled, seeing you hug the stuffie. you didn’t think you were gonna come out with anything, but wanda had something different in mind.

-

agatha walked over to where the toy store was in the mall where she saw you and wanda sitting in lounge chair across from the store.

“mama, wanda boug me toy!”

“she did?” agatha gasped. “oh wanda, you didn’t have to. this little one is spoiled enough.” agatha ruffled your hair. “i couldn’t say no to that sweet face!! i don’t know how you do it, agatha.”

you showed agatha that wanda bought you a stuffie and some stickers. “did you tell wanda thank you, sweetie?”

you nodded, just happy to have a cute stuffie in your hands.

it got later and later at the mall and the three of you left, agatha putting you on her hip halfway to the car because you were so tired. agatha fawned at the way you held your new stuffie to your chest, asking for your paci. she reached into your diaper bag to get it and pushed it in your mouth.

she set you in the backseat of her car, strapping your seatbelt. “someone’s definitely getting a nap when we get home, yeah.” she said to herself. you reached for agatha with a sleepy whine, making her chuckle a little and shush you. “mama’s gotta drive, baby. you’ll get cuddles at home, i promise.”

she shut the door and got in the drivers seat, watching you doze off in the rearview mirror.

[iliketangerines]

Mk11)) Hanzo hizashi and kuai liang x reader?? Like maybe is from the past or is a simple maid that works at the fire garden or Lin kuei temple. Nothing too complicated for this request- just simple stuff.

two hands

a/n: this was gonna be longer, but then i realized how out of hand it would've gotten

pairing: kuai liang x gn!reader x hanzo hasashi

warnings: attempted poisoning

you rush back and forth between the kitchens and the dining room, plating the food gracefully and quickly, and you only give yourself a quick moment to breathe before your back to serving the food

today your grandmaster Kuai Liang had invited over some of the higher ups of the Shirai Ryu to come and dine with the Lin Kuei to improve relations

what that meant for you is that there was a lot of people to serve and a lot more teacups to refill and heat and brew

thankfully, your direct superior had kept your serving relegated to the grandmaster’s room, saying that you were one of their best workers and that the grandmaster needed everything to go perfectly

not so thankfully, that meant you couldn’t afford a single mistake, not a drop spilled, not a single wrong order, not a single empty cup

you grab a bottle of baijiu and head over to the dining hall, composing yourself in the hall and wiping sweat off your forehead

walking in a soft smile, you carefully and pour the alcohol in practiced motions, and the Shirai Ryu grandmaster gives you a smile and a nod of appreciation

your grandmaster thanks you, waving you off, and you leave the bottle with them and go off to collect more food from the kitchens

you pick up their final dishes in your hand, and you traverse the halls quickly, not letting any of the food drop to the floor

opening the door with your foot, you walk in with their meals and set the final dishes down for them, arranging them in the middle so that all the plates can fit

you’re about to leave when you look at one of the dishes, the pork ribs, it looked not quite right, almost discolored, and you see the visiting grandmaster reach for it with his chopsticks

placing a gentle hand on his, you halt his reach for the food and tear off a strip of the pork with your fingers, looking at the color and then eating it

the Lin Kuei grandmaster does not say anything, simply watches, and you can taste that something’s wrong with the meal, perhaps undercooked

you pick up the dish, bowing your head in apology as you say that there’s something wrong with the meal and that you will return with a properly cooked plate

leaving, you ring in another plate of the pork ribs and head back with a fresh pot of tea and nearly bump into one of the servers, strangely enough

you wrinkle your nose and furrow your brows at the near accident but make your way back to the room with no more hiccups

placing down the tea pot, you lean down to pour them new cups of tea, except when you come back up, your head spins and pain pounds at your forehead

looking down at your fingers, they almost look purple and the room starts to distort and move around you, and you realize the pork had poison in it, or some kind of hallucinogen

leaning to the side to avoid smashing your face into the food, you slur out poison to your grandmaster, and then a splitting pain echoes through your body as you fall to the side, unable to control your own limbs

the world sounds like it’s been put through water, and your stomach has started to cramp, feeling it gurgle and bubble inside of you

you can’t move your hands, your arms, your legs, and your vision goes black as your eyelids close against your own free will

you hope that this isn’t too much of a hindrance on the meeting

it seems to be a blur of black and flashing white as your body heaves and gasps and fights to live, struggling against something that makes your body feel like a weight is crushing your bones to dust

the pain suffocates your lungs, burning with every breath you take and yet at the same time fills with water to keep you from breathing

you’re not sure how long it’s been since you fell down to the floor, but you wake up, body aching but alive

there’s something shoved down your nose, but you can make out the harsh lighting above you through blurry vision

you groan, trying to sit up, and your hands fumble uselessly, still feeling rather stiff

someone blurry appears in your vision, pushing you down by your chest gently and telling you to lay back down

mumbling out something about going back to work and the meeting with the Shirai Ryu, you struggle against them with pathetic attempts, body still too weak to really do anything

the voice is deep and grumbly as it tells you to lay back down, and you blink at your eyes, trying to make out who the hell was telling you to not go to work

your vision finally clears, and the struggle dies in your throat as you look face to face with your grandmaster to your left and then the Shirai Ryu grandmaster at the foot of the bed

his hand is on your chest still, pushing you down easily now as you stare at them in shock

he thanks you for saving the both of them and that they have apprehended the suspect, and you croak out that it is your pleasure to save them both

your grandmaster frowns at that, saying that you shouldn’t have to protect them, that you are employed under the Lin Kuei as a server and not as a warrior, he should be the one protecting you

the other grandmaster nods, agreeing with the sentiment, and he says that the food tester should’ve caught the poisoning but you had instead, you have done more than needed

he bows to you, and you nearly shoot up out of the bed to tell him not to, that you’re just a servant to help keep things running smoothly at the Lin Kuei

your grandmaster shakes his head and tells you to sit back down, muttering under his breath about how stubborn you were

he pats your chest and tells you to rest for a few weeks, it had been a few days since you had been poisoned, and you would need to rest to regain full strength

nodding dumbly, the two of them bow to you and leave, and you’re left alone with your thoughts

both of the grandmasters bowing to you, it made your head reel with shock and a little bit of pride in yourself

two powerful men who thanked you for saving your life, your grandmasters, oh this was exhilarating

you never thought they would acknowledge you more than a formality, and your heart thump in your chest at the whole ordeal of them bowing to you

you had always been the one to show grace, to show respect, and yet people high above your station had bowed to you

the heart monitor by your bedside starts to beep, and you realize your heart is going a little too fast as a nurse rushes in to make sure everything was okay

you just stare up with a dopey little smile and mouth whisper that the two grandmasters had bowed to you, and the nurse gives you a concerned look as she checks all your vitals

soon enough, she leaves, and you’re left with your thoughts

two grandmasters, huh

[nearlyrae]

Could I get a oneshot where Near is older like 21 & he has a S/O. He doesn’t know how to show affection but wants to start doing. Could be NSFW up to u 🤍

Hi!! I realize this ask is like, years old. I took a long ass hiatus with no warning due to life stuffs! But I am back baby. (I am bored and coping)

You peeked through your bedroom window, one of the only ones in the building. Snow layered each and every crevice beyond the horizon, the mounds cake-y and white. You craved a hot cup of coffee, but you’d already had your fill, the building mounds of anxiety coursing through your body and threatening to burst.

You gently lowered your head, your cheek fluttering onto your pillow, and found yourself being lulled back to sleep by the harmonies of the cold wintery afternoon. Thank God it’s Saturday.

The room got clearer as you opened your eyes, blurring to life yet being molded by the gentle warm lights you set up. A pale, warm hand rested on your head, unmoving, almost robotically placed, an unsure attempt. You unintentionally twitched in your half asleep stage, and the hand zipped away. He came into vision, his lips turned nervously, eyes wide and gazing down at you.

“Near,” you murmured, lifting yourself and allowing the blanket of drowsiness to fall. “What’re you doing here?”

For a second, you truly believed he did not know what to say. Near was not a proud man. He stuck to his facts, things that could not be tested, or doubted. In the way the grey rings around his eyes rippled, then hid away, his long white lashes curtaining them, you understood.

”I didn’t mean to wake you,” he spoke lowly, the rumble of a man’s voice deep in his throat. “I wanted to let you sleep longer.”

”Do you need me?” You asked, pushing the comforter off you, your bare legs cold against the Air Conditioning. You caught Near’s eye staring at them for a split second, before they were trained on the window.

”No, everything is in order.”

You knew better. The yes was silent.

“Y/N,” Near started, an anxious hand going up to his locks, a whirlwind of silver hair around his index.

You smiled. You always liked when he said your name, your real name, considering it the greatest form of affection.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Nate?”

His lovely pale cheeks reddened, and you giggled, allowing the warmness of his proximity to fill your chest.

“I struggle with affection,” he sat on your bed, propping one knee up to his chest. “I am sure you know this already.”

“Correct,” you smirked, balancing curiosity and wit. “It doesn’t bother me though, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No,” he twisted his strands faster, matching his anxiety. “I want to give you affection.”

”You already do,” You replied. In the little ways you say my name, stay with me, and lend me your company.

”I’ve never been with anyone, Y/N. And I don’t necessarily know how one is supposed to show affection. If there is a cue that allows for it, I do not know it.”

You placed your hand on his, and noticed how he froze up. Then, with wide, pleading eyes, you looked up at him.

”Is this okay?” You ask.

He nodded, face flushed.

“If you think I may or may not be okay with something, you usually ask,” you say, then interlace your fingers with his, almost being able to feel his rapid heartbeat between your touching palms. “But… Some things, you can just play it by ear. If somethings not okay, you can say something in the moment. And little by little, we can see just how far we can get with each other, to the degree we’re most comfortable.”

You smiled, at him, who stared back at you like a deer in headlights. But meekly, he cast his gaze down to your hands, half-lidded, thinking things you couldn’t quite pick up on.

“I trust you,” you nudged him gently, allowing him to look back at you. “And I know you trust me, too. That’s why you don’t have to worry.”

“Would it be okay if I kissed you?”

You stared at him, your own heart now beating out of control. Then, to quiet the fireworks, you leaned in, and watched him lean in too, colliding lips against each other, the fire bursting, eyes closed, and breaths interlaced.

You didn’t speak, mouth preoccupied, tongue curious and understanding your partner’s, gasping, trying all at once to memorize and savor it all.

His lips were softer than you imagined. Sweeter, saliva tasting like pheromones so delicious only your partner could give you. His face ingrained in your mind when you were only centimeters apart from kissing, eyes half lidded, begging, wanting, a look of pure desire and an unspoken love. It wasn’t an imagination; It was real.

You both pulled away, fully aware that he was on top of you on your bed, and how quickly the situation had escalated. Collecting your breaths, you stared up at him, that same look on his face. Desire. Love.

“I really liked that,” you said, voice sugary and quiet, submitting to that feeling of wanting.

”Me too,” he said, collecting his own breaths. “I liked that very much.”

“I am so glad that…” You let out a long sigh. “That you want me that way.”

Near looked away for a second, then locked eyes with you, and you became conscious of his arms on either side of your head, his knee only inches away between your thighs, and how his shirt seemed to hang down lower, showing a bit of his chest underneath. Intensity.

”Y/N, I want you very much,” He admitted. “But I am afraid of these feelings, and afraid of what they might make me do. I do not want to hurt you, or cause you grief.”

”But you didn’t hurt me,” you rose your hand up to his hair, gently caressing it. “You made me happy.”

”All I want is to make you happy,” He tried to scoot away, adjusting a discomfort on the seam of his pants.

You held him there, smiling.

”You make me happy.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close in a warm embrace. He was warm, and his heart beat incredibly fast at your touch. If he could put his heart in your hands, you would not let it come to harm.

Even though the outside was covered in a thick layer of snow, you felt warm that night, and was sure that he was too.

[ottopilot-wrote-this-txt]

A Nudge And A Wink

[ID: Color photo of a pretty young brunette waitress with blue eyes. She is standing, looking at the camera, in a deep hypnotic trance and is staring blankly with her lips parted. This is a mind-control/hypnosis fetish image. The setting is a diner in New York City's Tribeca neighborhood. She is dressed in a white blouse and an apron. The camera angle is from a slightly low point of view as if the photographer was seated in a booth .The shot has shallow depth of field and is shot on a 35mm Nikon camera with FujiFilm film and film grain. The mood is sexy but tasteful. (Stable Diffusion XL prompt)]

"Are you unhappy with your service, Sir?" the restaurant owner asks in a gruff voice. This was a mom-and-pop operation, which I guess would make him Pop, and he was doubtless busy, hence his irritation at being called to my table. My waitress, a pretty brunette whose name tag read "Elizabeth," stood next to him, fidgeting with her order pad.

I dab at my mouth with a paper napkin. "No, the service was great, I just wanted to make a suggestion. If you aren't already doing so, you should pay your wait staff a living wage. And if you're skimming their tips, stop immediately and make restitution."

There's always a brief moment, maybe a split-second, where their brain has heard the words… but hasn't processed how to comply. I'm always worried it's not going to work when I see that confused, sometimes angry, glance, but then it fades into a glassy-eyed stare and an open mouth. Like clockwork.

"Yeah, sure," he says, his voice distant and his free will in another zip code.

"Great. Only one more thing before I let you get back to it, lunch is on the house today, right?"

"Yeah. On the house," he drones, before blinking and heading back to the kitchen.

Elizabeth picks up my utensils and plate with a practiced ease. "Anything else I can get for you today, Sir?"

I lean in, just a little, and lower my voice. "It's Doug. You are… Elizabeth…?"

A warm smile. "Liz. Just Liz."

"Liz. You'd like to have dinner tonight with me tonight. Write down your number and I'll text you my address. You can bring some food—you pick—after your shift, and we'll fuck a couple of times. You'll cum easily and often, and it will be the best sex you've ever had, because you think I'm good-looking and funny."

I look into Liz's gorgeous blue eyes, like tiny wells, blue but deep. I look deeper and deeper, until the light from the diner and the world isn't visible, just darkness. It's like looking directly into her mind and just moving things around a bit, like moving a houseplant into the sill of an open window.

Liz puts the plate down, and pulls a pen from her apron. She scribbles her number onto my check, which I don't have to pay anyway, and hands it to me with a flirty wink. "See you at six. Doug," she says suggestively, turning and sashaying her big ass intentionally as she walks away.

Sliding out of the booth, I put on my coat. I slide a ten under the sugar packet caddy, confident Liz and her co-workers would get their fair share of it, as I walk out into the chilly city streets.

People think being able to control minds at will would be glamorous or sexy. But it fucking sucks, if you ask me.

I don't know how long I've had this power—it just sort of happened one day. Up until then, I'd lived a pretty charmed life, and I thought that was just dumb luck. Now… I'm pretty sure that's not true.

There are a couple rules I learned from trial and error. I don't have to be looking at a person (but it helps), and I do have to be relatively close to them. I can't undo a previous command. And the effects are permanent.

It definitely has its perks, don't get me wrong. I get a lot of stuff comped, like that soup and sandwich, and a lot of pretty women like Liz have sex with me whenever I want. If you think that's neat, it's small potatoes. I'm a writer by trade, but I have millions in the bank. How did it get there? Well, when you live in New York City and have access to the minds of politicians, bankers, and CEOs, the world is your oyster. I've had crazy, wild sex with the world's most beautiful women, sometimes simultaneously. I've thrown out first pitch at Yankee Stadium. I've been the equivalent of white, pudgy Jay-Z.

I wave to a retired teacher I pass once in a while. "Hey Mrs. Garcia! ¿Cómo estás? That's a very pretty hairstyle. You feel confident and beautiful and people who tell you otherwise are wrong." She looks at me blankly before her face lights up in a proud smile.

Anyway, it's isolating. No one will ever understand what it's like to be me, and all my relationships fall into two categories: people I can't trust because I've already mind controlled them, and people I haven't mind controlled yet. I've surrounded myself with yes men before, and that's an empty and unfulfilling life. I also can't trust myself to make new friends or partners and not accidentally, innocuously, alter them. A little slip up like "I think you should wear that dress" and they'll be a different person, forever. And there's always the risk of breakage.

Let me explain. No, wait.

"Hey," I call out to some asshole manhandling his lady friend on the street. "Don't be a dick to women." And to his girlfriend: "If he treats you bad, leave him. If he hits you, you cut his dick off."

OK, now where was I? So here's an example: I naively, stupidly, made a woman fall in love with me. Sounds great! Until you realize what you wanted is someone to love you for you. So I'll just undo it. Nope, doesn't work that way. That woman will be in therapy for years, and it's my fault.

Plus, when you tell a corrupt CEO to come clean to the press, and he tells a reporter about all his trips to Epstein Island… Lemme just say that crashing the world's financial markets will make you take it down a notch.

I learned over time: don't rock the foundation of the world to its core, don't upset the balance of the universe. I like to call them nudges. Just a little suggestion here and there. Some harder than others, but never a push, just a nudge.

Ah, back home. Another fruitless day of ennui for the most powerful man in New York. I throw my keys on the counter and hang my coat on the back of a chair. I flip the TV on and plop onto the couch and sigh.

News, news, sports, infomercial, talk show…oh. Men in Black is on. I've always wanted to see this. I watch while I scroll my phone. It's pretty funny, though it feels like something else I've watched before. Tommy Lee Jones is funnier than I thought. Oh, that's interesting. Huh. Will Smith makes Agent K forget he was Agent K. Then he lives a normal life. Could I do that?? Could I live a normal life?

I rise slowly and think this through. I don't even know if it will work. Nothing could happen, or I could turn my brain into a turnip. I'd ask myself: if I didn't have this power, how did I get rich? I mean, I used to think it was just luck. I can tell myself to think that. Excited, I walk over to the bathroom vanity.

Well, I thought, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"You will forget you can control minds. You will just assume your fortune to this point is the product of charm and good luck."

I stare at the reflection in the mirror, and it stares back at me. And I feel kind of funny, like my brain was a muscle that had fallen asleep, and blood was rushing back into it. Tingly.

Damn. What was I doing?

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

Liz, the waitress from the coffee shop on Broadway, is wearing one of my t-shirts and looking at my bookshelf. I guess she liked me more than I thought, she practically threw herself at me when I opened the door. Helluva first date, I thought, as I microwaved the food she brought.

Liz reads off some of the titles. "Total Recall, Men in Black, The Matrix, Memento…" She pulls a DVD box off the shelf. "Oh, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! I haven't seen this in years, it's such a good movie."

I shrug as I plate the food. "I've never seen it, I don't even remember buying it."

"Really? The case is pretty worn. Maybe you got it used."

I furrow my brow. Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing any of those movies. I must have got a good deal.

I pull out at chair for her, then stick my head in the fridge. "Maybe. What would you like to drink? I have Diet Coke, uhh… Diet Coke. And water."

Liz smiles, "Water is fine, I don't like fizzy drinks."

"That's too bad. Because I do have some syrups and club soda, so I could make an Italian soda. I think you would like an Italian soda if you've never had one."

I hear the sound of a fork hitting the china plate, and I turn. Liz's full lips part slightly. Her big blue eyes go glassy, her breath hitching before she exhales, long and slow. My Wu-Tang tee slips off one bare shoulder as she slackens and sinks, her expression melting like warm butter.

"I like Italian soda," she drones in a monotone voice.

Wait. What the fuck just happened here?

[spooky-bunnys]

Hi can I request bonten x male reader who falls down the stairs and breaks he’s leg and so bonten doesn’t want him to do anything until he gets better but he still tries to do stuff

Hope you enjoy!

Bonten was in a frenzy when they found out their husband was in the hospital. They had gotten an alert from one of (Name)'s personal guards. Apparently he had an accident and was rushed to the hospital.

So Bonten stopped everything they were doing and rushed to the hospital. When they made it one of the guards immediately led them to (Name)'s hospital room. Bonten threw the door open trying to quickly check on the male. When they finally made it through the door they saw (Name) peacefully sleeping, with his leg in a cast and propped up.

Takeomi turned to the guards and demanded an explanation. "One of the maids had pushed him down the stairs. We caught him before there was too much damage done, and she is in handcuffed and waiting in the basement." The others share dark looks. Mikey pointed at a different guard demanding if to know the damage.

"He only has a mild concussion and a clean break in his leg." Mikey glared. "He wouldn't even be hurt if you'd done your damn job!" Mikey quickly shot the guard before pointing at another guard, telling him to clean up the mess. The other quickly surrounded their husband.

30 minutes later a doctor came in, freezing slightly at the sight of the Bonten members. Before continuing his task. He ran a few tests before turning to his bosses. He bowed down. "He is able to go home, although he'll need these prescribed pain medication and to stay off his leg."

They nodded and gave Sanzu a look when he reached for the prescription. Rindou slapped his hand and grabbed it instead. Sanzu glared at him then grumbled. Takeomi slapped the back of his head. Explaining how the medication was for their injuried husband, not for him to pop whenever he wanted.

Mikey's orders broke the glaring session. "Kokonoi, sign him out. Haitani's, get his medication. Kakucho, get the car. Takeomi, go get his favorite food. Mochi, CAREFULLY pick him up. Sanzu, take care of the maid when we get back. Also question the other workers, someone had to know what she was gonna do." They nodded quickly doing as told.

Mikey watched as Mochi gently picked up (Name). The smaller male snuggling into the larger chest. Not waking up. Mikey chuckled and shook his head. (Name) must be on the good stuff if he didn't wake up from that. Bonten quickly made their way out.

Just wanting to get home and cuddle their husband. But also to torture that bitch for what she did to their (Name). When they reached the parking lot they split up to do their jobs. The Haitani's left towards the pharmacy under their name. Takeomi left in his car to get (Name) some (fast food). Finally the rest got into their vehicles.

Mochi carefully placed (Name) in the backseat of the main car with Mikey. Mikey nodded to Kakucho once the back door was shut. The whole way hoke Mikey played with (Name)'s hair. Sad that he got hurt where he was supposed to be the safest. Mikey couldn't help be imagine different situations, that could happen while they aren't home.

Once reaching the main mansion Mikey was still stuck in his mind. Until a soft hand caressed his cheek. He slightly flinched before meeting a dazed and drugged up (Name). (Name) smiled softly before letting out a cute and short giggle. "Jiro~ I missed you!"

Mikey shook his thoughts away and chuckled at him. Definitely on the good stuff. Mochi opened the back door and laughed at the sight of (Name) clinging to Mikey. "Come on babe. We need to get you inside." (Name) quickly threw himself at Mochi. Startling the male but quickly laughed at how much (Name)'s speech was sluring.

"Kanji~ I missed you too!" (Name) tried giving the male kisses but quickly fell back asleep. Making the other Bonten members present smile and chuckle. Sanzu loudly laughed. Talking about how (Name) had gotten the good pain medication to be like that.

Once they got (Name) settled. Mikey ordered Kakucho and Mochi to stay with (Name), while he and Sanzu deal with the bitch in the basement. On the way down they questioned other works. They also checked the security cameras. Sure enough the guard was telling the truth.

On the camera it showed the maid arguing with (Name). He looked to be trying to calm her down, and to be trying to get away from her. She kept grabbing him and pulling him back and shaking him violently. Before she shoved him down the stairs case. The guards came after his pained scream, caughting him half way down the stairs case.

Mikey turned and gave Sanzu a look. "After we deal with her, we need to have a certain meeting with the guards." Sanzu grit his teeth in anger. "Why not just kill them all and get new ones. Bastards aren't doing their job correctly." Mikey smirked. "We'll kill half of them as a warning." Sanzu laughed and nodded. They finally made their way down, while the others finally arrived at the Manor.

Takeomi opened the door and allowed the brothers to walk in first. Then he quickly made his way to (Name)'s room. The brothers following along behind him. Once they arrived they found a blushing Kakucho and Mochi. Confused they look towards (Name) who had the brightest smile on his face upon seeing the rest of his husbands.

"Omi! I missed your kisses and snuggles~" He whined with his arms stretched out. Takeomi blushed and made his way over, shyly giving (Name) the food he had gotten for him. (Name) gasped happily and threw his arms up squealing. "I knew you loved me!" The immediately dug into his food.

The others shook their heads fondly. Their husband was just so adorable and precious to them. Ran looked around noting the missing men before looking at Kakucho with a raised brow. Kakucho pointed down and he understood. He grinned a tugged on his younger brothers arm. "Rin let's go help boss and Sanzu."

Rindou who understood nodded and followed him out. Takeomi slowly sat beside (Name) and gently pulled him close kissing his temple. (Name) smiled more before offering some of his food to the others. While Kakucho and Takeomi politely declined, Mochi bent down letting (Name) feed him. They smiled at how calm and sweet their husband was.

Although they knew it wasn't going to last. (Name) was quite the independent male. It was something Bonten had loved about him. That was until they married him, now they don't like it too much. (Name) huffed trying to get out of bed, again only to be stopped by one of his husbands. Again.

(Name) crossed his arms. Pouting. Quite adorably if his husbands hand to say. "Come on! My leg feels fine and the cast is literally getting removed tomorrow! You guys haven't let me do literally anything since we came home from the hospital." Bonten sighed heavily. They have never in their lives been this tired.

Throughout the whole recovery (Name) kept trying to do everything, like he didn't have a broken bone in the first place. It got to the point Bonten couldn't even leave him at alone at home! Mikey looked him in the eyes and spoke softly. "(Name) we just don't want you to get more hurt."

(Name) deflated. "I just hate laying around and not doing anything. Making you guys do everything. Makes me feel guilty..." Bonten stared at him fondly. This is what they love the most about him. He was so caring and loving. (Name) looked up at them with puppy eyes.

"Can we watch another movie and have a cuddle puddle?" An invisible arrow shot throw the Bonten members hearts. Mikey quickly made his way over and snuggled into (Name)'s side. The other members not far behind him. That night was filled with laughter, cuddles, and most importantly love.

"Next time I break a bone though, I better not be treated like this again." Bonten groaned loudly.

[morganski-19]

For the friends AU - you gotta do the one with the leather pants…I can’t decide who would be that character, but I think it would be hilarious!

I really enjoyed the first snippet. Made me feel like I was watching both Friends & ST! Great job!

I thought about this for so long, and then it just hit me. Eddie and Argyle. Eddie with the leather pants, obviously, and Argyle on the other line. Hope it lives up to expectations, I kind of let it run and they end up having a deeper conversation at the end (for set up purposes). But still funny.

The One with the Leather Pants

(for this one, imagine like a sitcom split screen, switching pov on a phone call type situation)

Eddie sits frantically on the toilet, waiting for Argyle to pick up the phone. He’s wearing nothing by a T-shirt and tight boxers, his leather pants halfway up his calves. It was broiling in the apartment he was in. And, in an attempt to leave silently after his latest hookup, he brought his clothes to the bathroom to clean up and get out. But his pants would not slide up his legs any higher. He can’t exactly walk out of here pants-less in the middle of the night.

“Hey dude,” Argyle says when he picks up the phone. Lounging on his couch in baggy pajamas while watching tv.

“Thank god, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Eddie sighs in relief.

“Nah, dude. I was up watching some tv. What’s up?”

Eddie looks down at his legs, letting out another sigh in premature defeat. “I got a kind of situation.”

Argyle leans his head on his hand. “What kind of situation?”

“You know those leather pants I wear when I go out sometimes. Well, I wore them out tonight, met a guy, we went back to his place to hook up. And his apartment is like a million degrees, and I was sweating a lot. So, to make an already long story short, I can’t get my pants back on.”

Argyle nods, taking in the information. “Huh, that’s rough dude.”

“I’m aware,” Eddie says while raising his eyebrows. “Any idea what to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says while scratching his chin. “Not exactly the best at this stuff. Should have called Nancy. Or Robin, she would know.”

Eddie presses his hand against his forehead. “Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want to get laughed at and humiliated, so I called you.”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet. Hold on, let me think.”

“I’m up for literally anything right now, I can’t get them past my knees.”

“Is the guy you’re with still up, can you ask him if it’s cool for you to take a shower to cool down and wash the sweat off.”

Eddie glances at the closed door, knowing that the guy is passed out. “Not exactly. And I’ve put on leather pants after a shower before, it’s still not the best.”

Argyle hums. “Ok, so something else to get the sweat off your legs. Is there baby powder there?”

Eddie awkwardly stands up and waddles to get in front of the medicine cabinet. Shaking his head to get rid of the voice in his head saying not to look through someone’s stuff. He opens the cabinet to find a small bottle of baby powder. “Yeah, weirdly enough.”

“Try that.”

It could be worse. Eddie puts his phone on the counter and pours the baby powder into his hand. More comes out that he means to, making it puff into the air when he starts to rub it on his legs. In desperation, he forgets to wash the excess off his hands and tries to pull his pants up. He gets it just past his knees before the leather slips out of his hands. Eddie grabs the counter in order to not fall over.

Now realizing his mistake, Eddie stands and washes the baby powder off his hands and tries again. Still doesn’t work.

“Yeah, that didn’t work,” he says after picking up the phone again.

“Damn, ok. Do you think it has to do with the sweat on your legs or that they widened a bit with the heat?”

Eddie crosses his arm and grabs his elbow, leaning against the sink. “Probably the heat thing, I don’t know,” he says with a tilt to his head.

Argyle hums again. “Lotion to try and slide the pants up your legs?”

“I’m not going to get lotion on my pants, that’s going to be a bitch to clean. How would that even work?”

“Imagine it, dude, a little lube so everything can get to where it needs to go.”

Eddie snorts. “Not imagining what you want, but it made me laugh.”

Argyle takes a second before bursting out laughing through the phone. “Yeah, ok, I see it now. Maybe try wetting a washcloth, or something, with cold water, try to cool your legs down.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Will take a while thought, was trying to leave without the guy noticing.”

“Ohh, one of those types of hookups. You should have at least said goodbye to the guy.”

Eddie finds a spare hand towel and turns on the tap. After the water gets cold, he wets the towel and wrings it out. Sitting back on the toilet, he drapes the towel over his legs and just waits.

“I said goodnight, that’s enough for a lot of people. I just, didn’t want him to get attached. I’m fine with casual stuff, just not ready for something serious yet.”

“I see, still burned from the last one. I got you.”

Eddie leans back on the toilet. “Hard not to be burned when you give three years to someone, move to a new city, leaving everything that you know, and they figure he’s been cheating on you for months.”

Argyle nods his head in understanding. “Yeah, it’s sucks. But you can’t let that hold yourself back, dude. You got so much to give, you’ll find someone else sometime.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “I know. I’m just scared to get hurt again.”

“Getting hurt sucks, I know, I’ve been there. But you never know what’s going to happen if you don’t try.”

Eddie makes a thoughtful face, knowing exactly who he’s been running away from. What feelings he’s been trying to avoid.

“When I called you, I didn’t exactly expect a midnight therapy session.”

Argyle snorts. “I am known for my midnight therapy. But seriously though, if you’re not ready to date yet, that’s fine, dude. But, when you are, I think he might be waiting for you too.”

Eddie opens his mouth slightly in shock. “I don’t exactly know who you’re talking about.”

“I have eyes, dude. I see you staring. And I also see him staring back. But no pressure, this is your timetable, not mine.”

“Thank you. Why are you up anyway? Don’t you go to bed at like ten?” Eddie stands, draping the now warm towel up on the towel rack.

“Jonathan’s a chronic insomniac, so I stay up with him sometimes when it gets bad. Sometimes being around someone else helps him fall asleep.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Has he been there the entire time I’ve been talking to you?”

Argyle turns to face Jonathan, who was sitting next to him the whole time, half asleep. “Yeah, but I’m like ninety percent sure he’s asleep.”

“Ninety percent! Poke him, see if he moves or something.”

“I’m not going to wake him up, dude. What do you not get about chronic insomniac?”

“Fine, I guess that’s fair. Hold on, I’m trying this again.”

It’s a struggle, and Eddie may have hit his head on the counter, but he gets his pants up. Zips them even.

“I got them, thanks for picking up. Mind keeping this between us?

“I can only promise that if Jonathan is actually asleep. He’s a huge gossip when he wants to be.”

“I’m praying that he is. How’s that going, by the way?” Eddie asks, turning the tables back on Argyle.

Argyle stares, a bit longingly, at his best friend sleeping on the couch. A blanket that Argyle draped over him earlier, tucked underneath his chin. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re not the only one I’ve seen staring either. And out of the both of us, your situation is a lot better than mine.”

Argyle smiles. “I don’t believe that but thank you.”

“No problem. Talk to you later. I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow as a thank you.”

“No need, dude. Text me when you get back to your place.”

“Will do,” Eddie hangs up the phone. He cleans up the small mess in the bathroom he made with the baby powder before leaving. Grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and, successfully, leaves unnoticed.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging

[ottopilot-wrote-this]

A Nudge And A Wink

This image is AI generated, I couldn't find a royalty-free source photo I liked. Don't like AI? Cross-posted to @ottopilot-wrote-this-txt without it.

"Are you unhappy with your service, Sir?" the restaurant owner asks in a gruff voice. This was a mom-and-pop operation, which I guess would make him Pop, and he was doubtless busy, hence his irritation at being called to my table. My waitress, a pretty brunette whose name tag read "Elizabeth," stood next to him, fidgeting with her order pad.

I dab at my mouth with a paper napkin. "No, the service was great, I just wanted to make a suggestion. If you aren't already doing so, you should pay your wait staff a living wage. And if you're skimming their tips, stop immediately and make restitution."

There's always a brief moment, maybe a split-second, where their brain has heard the words… but hasn't processed how to comply. I'm always worried it's not going to work when I see that confused, sometimes angry, glance, but then it fades into a glassy-eyed stare and an open mouth. Like clockwork.

"Yeah, sure," he says, his voice distant and his free will in another zip code.

"Great. Only one more thing before I let you get back to it, lunch is on the house today, right?"

"Yeah. On the house," he drones, before blinking and heading back to the kitchen.

Elizabeth picks up my utensils and plate with a practiced ease. "Anything else I can get for you today, Sir?"

I lean in, just a little, and lower my voice. "It's Doug. You are… Elizabeth…?"

A warm smile. "Liz. Just Liz."

"Liz. You'd like to have dinner tonight with me tonight. Write down your number and I'll text you my address. You can bring some food—you pick—after your shift, and we'll fuck a couple of times. You'll cum easily and often, and it will be the best sex you've ever had, because you think I'm good-looking and funny."

I look into Liz's gorgeous blue eyes, like tiny wells, blue but deep. I look deeper and deeper, until the light from the diner and the world isn't visible, just darkness. It's like looking directly into her mind and just moving things around a bit, like moving a houseplant into the sill of an open window.

Liz puts the plate down, and pulls a pen from her apron. She scribbles her number onto my check, which I don't have to pay anyway, and hands it to me with a flirty wink. "See you at six. Doug," she says suggestively, turning and sashaying her big ass intentionally as she walks away.

Sliding out of the booth, I put on my coat. I slide a ten under the sugar packet caddy, confident Liz and her co-workers would get their fair share of it, as I walk out into the chilly city streets.

People think being able to control minds at will would be glamorous or sexy. But it fucking sucks, if you ask me.

I don't know how long I've had this power—it just sort of happened one day. Up until then, I'd lived a pretty charmed life, and I thought that was just dumb luck. Now… I'm pretty sure that's not true.

There are a couple rules I learned from trial and error. I don't have to be looking at a person (but it helps), and I do have to be relatively close to them. I can't undo a previous command. And the effects are permanent.

It definitely has its perks, don't get me wrong. I get a lot of stuff comped, like that soup and sandwich, and a lot of pretty women like Liz have sex with me whenever I want. If you think that's neat, it's small potatoes. I'm a writer by trade, but I have millions in the bank. How did it get there? Well, when you live in New York City and have access to the minds of politicians, bankers, and CEOs, the world is your oyster. I've had crazy, wild sex with the world's most beautiful women, sometimes simultaneously. I've thrown out first pitch at Yankee Stadium. I've been the equivalent of white, pudgy Jay-Z.

I wave to a retired teacher I pass once in a while. "Hey Mrs. Garcia! ¿Cómo estás? That's a very pretty hairstyle. You feel confident and beautiful and people who tell you otherwise are wrong." She looks at me blankly before her face lights up in a proud smile.

Anyway, it's isolating. No one will ever understand what it's like to be me, and all my relationships fall into two categories: people I can't trust because I've already mind controlled them, and people I haven't mind controlled yet. I've surrounded myself with yes men before, and that's an empty and unfulfilling life. I also can't trust myself to make new friends or partners and not accidentally, innocuously, alter them. A little slip up like "I think you should wear that dress" and they'll be a different person, forever. And there's always the risk of breakage.

Let me explain. No, wait.

"Hey," I call out to some asshole manhandling his lady friend on the street. "Don't be a dick to women." And to his girlfriend: "If he treats you bad, leave him. If he hits you, you cut his dick off."

OK, now where was I? So here's an example: I naively, stupidly, made a woman fall in love with me. Sounds great! Until you realize what you wanted is someone to love you for you. So I'll just undo it. Nope, doesn't work that way. That woman will be in therapy for years, and it's my fault.

Plus, when you tell a corrupt CEO to come clean to the press, and he tells a reporter about all his trips to Epstein Island… Lemme just say that crashing the world's financial markets will make you take it down a notch.

I learned over time: don't rock the foundation of the world to its core, don't upset the balance of the universe. I like to call them nudges. Just a little suggestion here and there. Some harder than others, but never a push, just a nudge.

Ah, back home. Another fruitless day of ennui for the most powerful man in New York. I throw my keys on the counter and hang my coat on the back of a chair. I flip the TV on and plop onto the couch and sigh.

News, news, sports, infomercial, talk show…oh. Men in Black is on. I've always wanted to see this. I watch while I scroll my phone. It's pretty funny, though it feels like something else I've watched before. Tommy Lee Jones is funnier than I thought. Oh, that's interesting. Huh. Will Smith makes Agent K forget he was Agent K. Then he lives a normal life. Could I do that?? Could I live a normal life?

I rise slowly and think this through. I don't even know if it will work. Nothing could happen, or I could turn my brain into a turnip. I'd ask myself: if I didn't have this power, how did I get rich? I mean, I used to think it was just luck. I can tell myself to think that. Excited, I walk over to the bathroom vanity.

Well, I thought, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"You will forget you can control minds. You will just assume your fortune to this point is the product of charm and good luck."

I stare at the reflection in the mirror, and it stares back at me. And I feel kind of funny, like my brain was a muscle that had fallen asleep, and blood was rushing back into it. Tingly.

Damn. What was I doing?

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

Liz, the waitress from the coffee shop on Broadway, is wearing one of my t-shirts and looking at my bookshelf. I guess she liked me more than I thought, she practically threw herself at me when I opened the door. Helluva first date, I thought, as I microwaved the food she brought.

Liz reads off some of the titles. "Total Recall, Men in Black, The Matrix, Memento…" She pulls a DVD box off the shelf. "Oh, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! I haven't seen this in years, it's such a good movie."

I shrug as I plate the food. "I've never seen it, I don't even remember buying it."

"Really? The case is pretty worn. Maybe you got it used."

I furrow my brow. Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing any of those movies. I must have got a good deal.

I pull out at chair for her, then stick my head in the fridge. "Maybe. What would you like to drink? I have Diet Coke, uhh… Diet Coke. And water."

Liz smiles, "Water is fine, I don't like fizzy drinks."

"That's too bad. Because I do have some syrups and club soda, so I could make an Italian soda. I think you would like an Italian soda if you've never had one."

I hear the sound of a fork hitting the china plate, and I turn. Liz's full lips part slightly. Her big blue eyes go glassy, her breath hitching before she exhales, long and slow. My Wu-Tang tee slips off one bare shoulder as she slackens and sinks, her expression melting like warm butter.

"I like Italian soda," she drones in a monotone voice.

Wait. What the fuck just happened here?

[lakeviewkitsune]

Can I ask for platonic headcanons of Marisa Kirisame taking care of a friend who is very sick and is stuck in bed.

(Finding a touhou writer is like that meme of the fortnite scar with all time low playing)

Marisa helping a friend who's sick

(It's criminal that more people don't write about Touhou since the Fandom is huge.)

Source: Danbooru. Artist is jill 07km

. Marisa was most likely the first one to find out you were sick since she has a habit of dropping by unannounced and enjoys visiting her friends. She started knocking on your door, but after waiting for a few seconds longer than usual, she was about to welcome herself in, and then you cracked open the door to prevent direct contact so she wouldn't get sick and explained to her that you were sick; you were hoping she would understand, but that was pointless since she immediately gasped and barged in before rushing you back to your bed and made you lie back down.

. Marisa would sit by your side and would ask when you got sick and how, and when you remember messing around with Cirno a couple of days ago and not warming up after getting home, she sighs and gently flicks your forehead before enthusiastically saying she'll help you through your cold. Marisa is fast to get you some extra blankets and comforters along with a small heater she “bought” from the kappa. 

. Once you're all nice and cozy, she'll start working on some foraging to get some mushrooms to make you a nice soup or other meals she knows how to make in order to keep you well fed and hopefully make you feel better. Marisa's cooking isn't anything special, and she can't cook more complex meals like Youmu or Sakuya, but her meals are still filling. And she even tries to bake for you to hopefully get your spirits up more; usually, she makes a small cake to split or some cookies or even a few tarts she picked up from Sakuya. While you're sick and she's trying to make meals for you, she'll actually try to cook any recipes you have or give you some or leave to get some books she has on cooking if you don't like any of the recipes she knows off the top of her head.

. She'll keep you company while you guys eat and usually keep the room warm and probably sleep in a nearby chair or borrow a futon from Reimu to sleep on the floor since she doesn't want to leave you alone while you're sick and stuck in bed. She usually just talks with you or gets you both some books to read and talk about or snags some stuff from Rinnosuke to show you. If the cold doesn't go away after a day or two, she'll go out and buy some medicine and tea to help fight the cold or whatever made you sick, and she gets tea specifically for sleeping so that way you're passed out for most of the time you're sick. 

. After a few days, once the cold starts to wear off and you're able to move around more and start getting your energy back, Marisa is ecstatic; she instantly starts coming up with plans to do once you're fully recovered, such as reading and practicing magic with you, or hanging out with Reimu and the others, or adventuring around in Gensokyo. While she eagerly talks about her plans, she lets out a sneeze; at first, she brushes it off, but a part of you knows what's coming. Another day goes by, and your cold has gone away, and you're able to move around again and go back to whatever you needed done, but now you have a new task, Marisa. Unfortunately, she often slept too close while on the futon, and sadly now she's sick, but at least you get to spend more time with her now.

(Hey guys dev here, I'm sorry I just disappeared on you all, life got busy and also I got distracted with other stuff, I will admit and say now there is a chance there will be periods of time i won't post, but I am working on requests and will have them out as soon as possible.)

[fanficwritinggirl]

My Montana (Cole Walter Fanfic)

Chapter 4 The visitor

"So Josie, how have you been?" the older woman sat across from her, pen in hand, book in lap. It takes a minute to reply, her nail polish becoming all of a sudden interesting.

"I've been good. You know, just been busy with school and all," her eyes don't meet the women, keeping her focus on picking the nail polish off.

"I'm assuming that's why it has been a few weeks since you have come for a session," the question is simple, all she had to do was say, and she was for some reason finding that hard to say. Her head moves up and down and she looks up and gives the woman a small smile before looking down again.

"Has there been something bothering you?" she shakes her head. The woman leans back in her chair and sighs.

"Josie, you have been coming to see me for years. You know that you can talk to me," Josie bites her lips and takes a deep breath.

"Is it normal to still have them? The nightmares. Because it has been 8 years and I am still waking up from them, multiple times a week. When does it stop? How do I make them stop?" her voice cracks and she bites down on her tongue to stop the tears threatening her eyes. The older woman looks at her, her eyebrows frowned together and she sighs.

"Everyone deals with trauma differently Josie. Some people never get over it, it's something that they always have to deal with and it never seems to stop. There usually isn't much they can do. But there is only one thing that i have seen that work," Josie looks up at the woman and scoffs.

"And what's that?"

"Find what makes you happy, cling onto it. Don't hold back on happiness because you are scared of losing it. Sometimes you have to embrace the fear in order to be happy."

Josie walks out of the building, covering her head with her jacket as the rain pours down on her. Sprinting across the car park, she flings open the door and catapults herself into the seat, slamming the door behind her. Hattie chuckles as she takes in her appearance.

"Bet you werent expecting that," she jokes, causing Hattie to shake her head.

"Definitely not what I needed," she buckles herself into the seat and leans her head back and sighs.

"So how was therapy?" Hattie asks slowly, not wanting to ask too much, she treads carefully. Josie shakes her head and lets out a breath before turning to her aunt.

"Exhausting, like it always is. You know" she turns fully in her seat and leans on the armrest in the middle. "I have been going to see June for 8 years, and just as i think i have her completely worked out, she goes and says some completely unexpected shit." Hattie chuckles.

"Sweetie, she is the therapist, she is meant to be figuring you out to help you, not the other way round," Hattie turns the key in the ignition, bringing the car to the lift and driving forward. Josie turns in her seat facing forward.

"I know, but it's fun. I mean we can't just focus on me all the time. I need to put my head somewhere else for a little bit when I'm with her," Hattie gives a soft hum in acknowledgement but keeping herself focused on the road.

"Do you feel better," Hattie asks her, letting her eyes fall to Josie for a split second. Josie shrugs.

"I mean... kinda. I don't know, she just said some stuff that I'm trying to make sense of."

"And what's that?"

"She suggested that I need to let myself be happy. Maybe being happy will help suppress the nightmares. Which dont get it," she turns her head and looks outside the car at the town as it passes by.

"And what aren't you understanding?" Hattie asks and Josie turns her eyebrows up.

"I mean, I am happy. I am doing okay in school. I have you, Danny, the rest of the boys. How can i not be happy," she expresses. Hattie purses her lips and nods.

"Yeah, I agree. But maybe, there is part of you that wants more. And it's okay if there is. There's nothing wrong with wanting more, even though some people make you feel like you are being selfish for wanting those things," Josie sighs, putting her hands on her forehead.

"I don't know. Sometimes I just wish that my head would let me get on with my life and stop tormenting me," she flops down in her seat a little and Hattie gives her a simple smile and nods her head.

"I know, it's hard. So how about I drop you home before I go back to work. You are not going to miss much if you take the day off of school. I know that Miss Jacobs will understand," Josie looks over at her aunt and allows her lips to curl up a little bit.

"Thank Aunt Hat."

Turns out agreeing to stay at home was the worst thing that she could have done. She sat leaning against her headboard, guitar placed in her lap as she strummed the strings quietly, trying to think about anything other than what June said. This is why she hates going to therapy, why she asked Aunt Hat to let her take a break from therapy for a while because everytime June would say something that would cause her to go into her head and start questioning her life.

Humming, she changes key and she plays the song gold rush by Taylor Swift, letting her eyes trail around her room as she mutters the lyrics. Her room was painted with an off white color, besides the wall behind her bed which was painted a burnt orange. A few posters of her favorite singers were on the wall next to the door. A white desk sat in the corner of the room, a mix of music sheets and homeworks littered it. Polaroids were strung up with fairy lights above it, polaroids of her and Danny, Aunt Hattie, the other walter boys, some taken back when she first came here, now slightly faded with the sun that beams into her room most day. Though that was not a problem today.

Sighing, she lets her fingers leave the guitar, slipping it off of her lap and next to the bed and sliding down the cushions until she was laying, pretty much flat on her back staring at the ceiling. Little, plastic stars decorated the ceiling, once upon a time they had the ability to glow in the dark but after being up there for so many years they have lost their magic. Josie remembers the day when her and Aunt Hat spent hours putting them on.

It was one of the first few weeks of her living there, she had woken up most mornings, screaming from the nightmares, remembering the blood. Aunt Hat would come in, taking her into her arms and consoling her as best she could but they kept happening, so that was when she started to see June. She suggested that they put something in her room that will help distract her, so that when she wakes up from nightmares that she could focus on them and hopefully it should help her realize that they were merely bad memories and that she was past that. And that's when the idea of the glow in the dark stars came about.

Aunt Hat had ordered them online and was like a kid and christmas the day they arrived, so excited to put them up with Josie. They spent most of the day putting them up and at night when it became dark, they both lay on her bed looking up as they lit the room, and Josie felt a sense of calm from them. After that the nightmares became less and less frequent, and though they didn't completely go away, they were not as big of a problem anymore. Until the last few months, where for some reason they were becoming worse and more frequent. Why? Josie didn't know.

Lying down, for what feels like forever, she feels her eyes start to flutter shut, sleep calling to her, her body starts to feel heavy, her muscles letting go of all of her problems. Sleep was just in her grasp when it was ripped away by the knocking on the door. Her muscles tense up again, her eyes now wide open, all calls of sleep silenced. Groaning, she lifts herself off of her bed and she stomps down the stairs, ready to tell off whoever it was who decided that they had the right to disturb her sleep.

Reaching the door, she takes the handle in her hand in a tight grip and rips it open coming face to face with the person on the other side of the door in a flash.

"What," she bites out, regretting the way she said it as soon as it leaves her lips. Cole stands on the other side of the door, his face changing to shock at her outburst. He puts his hands out to her in surrender, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow, okay. Hey Montana. Lovely to see you on this fine day; well not really fine day," he says, a slight joking tone in his voice as he tries to lighten the situation. Josie, feeling horrible about her action, sighs and puts a hand on her head.

"I'm sorry Cole, I shouldn't have acted like that. I was just surprised that anyone came around today," she apologized, looking him in the eyes. Cole puts his hands down and smirks at her.

"It's cool," Josie pulls her hand off of her head and crosses her arms around herself as his graze is on her.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?" she asks, confused. He puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket and shrugs at her.

"Nothing really important is happening there. Shouldn't you be at school?" he asks, his eyebrows raise a tiny bit.

"I had a migraine."

"You don't still have a migraine do you? I can get you something if you need," Cole asks, the smirk leaving his face, concern plasters his face. Josie can't help but blush at how quickly he became concerned for her. She offers him a smile and shakes her head.

"No, I'm fine , thank you. I just went back to sleep, woke up completely fine," Coles face relaxes, all of the concern leaving his body as he lets out a breath.

"That's good," he says nodding at her, his head leaning down a little avoiding her gaze. They stand there in silence for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say.

"Do you want to come in?" Josie says boldly. Cole lifts his head and his eyes meeting hers, his lips turn up.

"Yeah, I would love that," Josie opens the door and lets him walk past her and into the house. She closes the door and turns around and faces him as he looks around him, taking in everything.

"You know, i can't remember the last time i was in your house," he tells her, she chuckles.

"I think the last time you were in here was for my 12th birthday. You all came over and the house wasn't big enough for all of us, so Aunt Hat and Katherine agreed that they would host my birthday at your house from then on," Cole silently chuckles, remembering that day.

"I remember. You, me and Danny ended up sitting outside when we were eating the cake, wanting to get some peace and quiet from the rest of the kids," Josie giggles.

"It was chaotic."

"It's always chaotic with us. Some more than others."

"Not always," Josie says, Cole looks at her, shocked at her understanding what he was insinuating. One side of Josie's lip lifts up in a smile and Cole can feel himself warm up.

"It's pretty cold in here," he tells her, rubbing his hands up his arms. Josie grows and turns around, walking down the hall.

"I'll put the heat on," she calls to him as she pushes some of the buttons. Cole looks around the corner as she does it. Turning around, she sees Cole looking at her and she smiles walking towards him. "It'll take a bit for the house to heat up, so how about some hot chocolate?" And how could Cole turn down that offer?

[casualnuziappreciator]

Prom Shopping (Part One)

Uzi gets out of bed. As she’s getting dressed, she checks her digital calendar. An event today? What is- oh. Prom shopping with the group. Lizzy, whyyyyy?! Ugh. Uzi finishes getting dressed and as she opens her door, big cone shaped arms scoop her up. She screams, “put me down!!!!! N!!!!” N starts giggling as he swings her around before carrying her bridal style to the door, “you’re the last one! Everyone’s outside the door! All waiting on you!” Uzi blushes as she relaxes into his arms. They walk by her parents. “See ya later, Uz!” Nori says. Khan wraps his arm around her waist, “have fun, you two!” N carries Uzi out the door, but turns around and waves as he crosses the doorway, “bye, Mr. Doorman!” The door closes and Uzi’s placed on the floor. She looks up to see the other 7 members of her friend group, all ready to get 6 dresses and three suits. Thad shifts his baseball cap, “we ready to head out?” Everyone gives their agreement, and they start heading to the first and only clothing shop on Copper 9. The WDF had been completely reshaped in the last year, especially thanks to Tessa deciding the place needed some human touches because not everything they did was bad. And so they started making their own fabrics, clothes, and stores. V has her own house outside the bunker. Like, actual house. N moved in with the Doormans, but occasionally slept over with Thad and Lizzy. J and Tessa live in the spaceship inside the corpse wall. Cyn lives with Doll in her place, just because she was the only one who “needed” a bunk mate, V was NOT letting her stay there, and she’s helping Doll clean up the place. They arrive at the store. “Ugh, I hate shopping,” J groans. Tessa raises her eyebrows and smugly says, “then I’ll find someone else to take me to prom. If, yknow, you don’t want to get a suit or anything.” J rolls her eyes, “only for you, Tess.” N folds his arms and jokes, “not even for your friends?” “The only friends I have are Tess and V,” J responds. We all shrug and go to shopping. Instead of splitting up, we decide to go in order finding stuff for everyone. The boys and J are first because suits are so much easier to pick out. Thad grabs a basic one with a green tie. J goes for the all black one with feminine accents, like a lacy collar and pockets, and rhinestones on the cuffs. N decides to take a less traditional apprach and finds one that, rather than having a button up, has a black turtleneck sweater underneath the jacket. He found a leather choker with a yellow rhinestone charm hanging from it. “Feels like destiny,” V jokes. “I know right! It’s perfect!” he yells. Uzi looks at the choker, then at N. She pictures him in it and blushes. “I think Uzi wants me to get it, huh guys?” N teases. “Bite me!” she yells, embarrassed. “Relax! I really like it, so I’d get it anyway, but if it’ll make me look even more handsome for you, it’s a necessity,” he grabs her chin. She steps on his foot, and everyone laughs. They go to find the dresses for the other girls. Lizzy takes a cutesy pink one with lacy flowers all over. V picks a blood-red, skin-tight one like her previous one, but it went up to her neck in the middle and had sheer sleeves. Doll picks a long, flowing, burgundy one. Tessa picks a poofy blue one and Cyn picks a poofy golden-yellow one to match. Uzi, however, is struggling to find one she liked.

[livythewriter]

Realizing You Have Feelings for Elsbeth (Elsbeth x Reader)

Word count: 966

Warnings: Lots of fluff, Elsbeth and reader give each other a forkful of food they ordered, probably out of chracter Kaya.

I worked a couple more cases with Elsbeth and Kaya, who seemed quite friendly, and started to get closer to them both.

We actually had a dinner planned tonight at this fancy restaurant. I dressed in my Sunday best, and drove to the restaurant, waiting for Elsbeth and Kaya to arrive. Eventually they did arrive, in the same car.

“Hey there, you didn’t have to drive here all by yourself! You could have asked one of us and we would have picked you up!” Elsbeth got out of the car and approached me, her arms open for a hug.

“Oh, it’s no trouble really, I like long drives.” I hugged her briefly, giving a small smile.

“Alright, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, just let me know and I’ll be right there!”

“Duly noted!” I said, “Hey, how’s it going Kaya?”

“It’s going good, I’m just glad we could get a reservation for this restaurant.” It was the nicest restaurant in the city, so I was pretty happy about it too.

We went into the restaurant and got seated near the window.

I ordered spaghetti, and Elsbeth and Kaya ordered alfredo.

“So, how are you Elsbeth?” I asked.

“I’m absolutely great, I can’t wait to try the high end wine I just got! It made quite the dent in my budget, so I hope it’s worth it.” Elsbeth said.

“I’m doing alright too, I love spaghetti so I’m definitely looking forward to eating some.”

“You’ll have to let me try some, and maybe I’ll let you try some of my alfredo.” Elsbeth offered.

“I’d love to!” The waiter brought us our food and we started to eat. As planned, I was about to get a bite of Elsbeth’s alfredo.

“Here you go.” Elsbeth held up the forkful of pasta and I tilted my head, confused. She waved the fork at me, and I realized what was going on. I leaned forward and took a bite of the alfredo, feeling something strange in my stomach as I did so.

I figured I should do the same as she just did, so I held up a forkful of spaghetti, and she took a bite of it.

A thought crossed my mind for a second that she looked kind of cute while taking that bite, and realization dawned on me of what the feeling in my stomach was. I was flustered, a little lightheaded too. Something about this exchange just made my cheeks feel hot as I stared at Elsbeth, remembering all of the times that I had looked at her before in admiration of her appearance. Was I starting to like her?

Elsbeth looked up at me with a smile, and I averted my gaze, a little embarrassed that I was staring.

“You know, your hair looks really nice right now. You styled it wonderfully.” Elizabeth patted my hands in my lap, gazing into my eyes. Her voice was a little lower, and I didn’t know if she was flirting or not but I didn’t want to embarrass myself so I just smiled bashfully and thanked her.

“So, should we split the bill after we’re done or what?” Kaya interrupted us.

“Oh yes, uh, we should, yeah.” I stammered out.

“Are you alright? You seem a bit off.” Kaya asked.

“Yeah, just uhhh, remembered I have laundry at home that needs to be done.” I said.

“Ah, no need to worry about that, we are having a nice time right now.”

“Yep!”

“So, what are you guys planning on doing this weekend?” Elsbeth asked us.

“Honestly, just staying in my house and reading. Maybe gardening a bit.” Kaya said.

“Yeah, I guess I could catch up on some books that I need to read.” I explained.

“Oooh, well I’m gonna be exploring New York, looking at all the fun sights and stuff! I was wondering if anyone wants to come with me.”

“I just wanna relax, so I probably won’t be able to come with you.” Kaya said.

“Ah, that’s alright. What about you?” She turned to me.

“Oh um, I’d love to come with.” I said, my cheeks flushing. I was gonna go on a 1 on 1 trip with Elsbeth this weekend?

“Alright, it’s a date then!” Elsbeth grinned at me. My eyes widened at the wording and I stammered a bit.

“Oh okay, yeah sounds good!” I didn’t know if she was just saying that or if she actually wanted to go on a date with me. But I didn’t question it, because I didn’t want to misread things and possibly ruin things between us.

We finally finished our meal, and as we decided, we split the bill, and got up to leave.

“That tiramisu was pretty good.” I said.

“I got the creme brulee, that’s my favorite dessert.” Elsbeth replied, smiling as we walked to our cars. I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t request to be picked up by Elsbeth, because now I wanted to drive home with her. But perhaps it was better that I didn’t, in case I said something to mess things up.

“Well, I’ll see you this weekend, huh?” Elsbeth nudged me as we reached her car.

“Yeah.” I said simply, my face turning a bit pink. I didn’t know where these sudden feelings were coming from, maybe they were always here and I only realized them now. “I’ll see you, I’ll even dress in my favorite outfit.

“I can’t wait to see it! I bet it’s gonna look so good on you.” Elsbeth said earnestly.

“Thank you! Have a nice day, you two!” I told her and Kaya.

“You too.” Kaya replied, “I had lots of fun!”

I walked to my car and went home, in deep thought about Elsbeth the whole drive.

[shadowsong26fic]

Coming Attractions!

Yes, I'm aware it's Tuesday not Monday but shhhhh XD

Just a quick one this month. Not even going to split it up by fandom as I usually do, just kinda blitz through.

So I ended up...essentially taking January off from writing, apart from a scattered few sentences here and there. Which on the one hand was probably good for me but on the other hand I'm behind on projects lol. Ah well.

Priorities for this month: 1. SWBB I'm picking up the project I had to step away from last year. Anakin was not found at age nine and never became a Jedi; we're handwaving that TPM ended roughly the same way anyway because Padme and Obi-Wan are very good at what they do and one of the other pilots got lucky on the droid control ship. Fast-forward to like a year and a half/two years into the Clone Wars, Ahsoka ends up briefly stranded on a planet that's neutral mostly because it's a black market hub. They click pretty quickly, hang out for a while, stumble into a Separatist plot to test a chemical weapon and blame a limnic eruption for the deaths, and Deal With It. Hondo and Bo-Katan are briefly involved because I said so XD 2. P&J We're getting to the part where Ari actually finds stuff out, lol. Getting to Europe and talking with other researchers, etc. There's some interesting stuff in Marseille, and Calais is important. And Ari and Phil continue to be cute in the background. 3. The Other Battlestar Baltar ends up on Pegasus; there's a bunch of stuff built up around the two OCs who fill the plotholes he left behind...I need to get more text down in general, lol. And also figure out how I want to structure it? Like...I do need to establish the new people (including a few on Pegasus, like the senior medical officer, a marine officer, there will also be a Four who gets pulled from the civilian fleet...) and also clarify why Baltar ends up in a different position (and why Helo doesn't because he and Athena still need to meet). And it would probably make the most sense to just go linearly and handle all the miniseries exposition in order. But then again would that actually be Interesting; or would it be better to pick up later and jump back and forth in time...yeah, you see my problem lol. 4. Acheron Javert Groundhog Day fic; looping the last 36ish hours of his life. (from right before he heads to the barricade to his death). 5. Maybe get back into Precipice or write some origfic if I have time/brain.

Longer-range projects: 1. Percussive Maintenance is still hanging out in my head, so I'm tentatively planning on that for GBB (aka the one where the at least two concussions Sam gets during Downloaded unlock Enough of his memories) 2. Or maybe I'll jump back to The Blood of Angry Men, we'll see. (aka a Zarek character study; looking back on his life (and the allies/friends/tools that he's led to their deaths) from the night before his execution) 3. What I'm definitely not doing is any of the crossovers floating around in my head; either the Star Wars ones or the WoT ones. (the one I talked about the other night; and a fusion is actually sort of building in my head because of course it is. Mostly because of the Kara-as-Mat thing I pinged onto the other night; but also Baltar would be an interesting Logain; possibly Zarek as Taim? I think I'd leave Rand as Rand and just fill in the roles around him. Lee also lines up really well with Perrin...and since this would derail pretty early on I feel a little more Flexible about love interests/etc. lol. For reasons of Tuon, Moiraine, and Lan, mostly. Also Faile. Also I'd still want Caprica as a sul'dam, I think, but Logain doesn't have a canon love interest IIRC sooooo that's easier to sort out XD ...although now that I think about it, Athena as Nynaeve and Helo as Lan could work...) 4. Incinctus/other Castlevania things. 5. I'm doing pod_together again once signups open. I need to refine my fandoms list, haha. Not that I haven't had interesting times the last couple years, but it'd be nice to get matched based on something that Isn't a very secondary/tertiary fandom for me again. 6. AtLA may come floating back into my head enough to pick up some of the projects I wandered away from there, we'll see.

Not writing, strictly speaking, but there's some admin/modding stuff for this year's GBB that I should get a move on, especially since the event is moving to May-October, plus helping out with SWBB the way I do every year.

...yeah, that's pretty much where things stand. Hopefully I'll hit a nice groove this month!

What about you guys, what are you working on?

[obx-imaginess]

The Christmas Gift~Rafe Cameron {Smut}

Warning⚠️:This does contain heavy, detailed smut so if u don't feel comfortable reading it then skip this chapter! Minors be warned{18+}

Rafe Cameron's POV:

I was out shopping with Topper for Christmas gifts for our girlfriends and as we was walking around in the mall Topper stopped me.

"Ay man let's go check this place out my girlfriend goes here all the time and shops for stuff." Topper says as he points at the store Victoria Secrets. I give him a puzzled look but follow him in the shop. As we both look around we're shocked we didn't think this place would be full of bra's, underwear, perfumes, and more.

"Man what the fuck our girlfriends really come here?" I look at topper not believing what I saw but I kinda expected it because y/n is a freak.

"Ay let's just split up and look around and I guess met back in like 5 minutes?" Topper spoke as he walked off leaving me alone to look around. I smelt at all different types of perfumes before I chose one in the scent Pure Seduction. I continued to look around when I reached more of the sexy lingerie, that's when I was intrigued. I looked around for a bit before I stumbled over to this one lingerie set that looked perfect for y/n to wear. It was a very revealing only covering the boobs and the pussy (omg I feel so weird writing it but vagina sounds even weirder so I'm finna stick with the first one😭) it was absolutely perfect and to top it off it was y/n's favorite color, purple. I picked her size out and went over to the cashier putting the items on the counter for her to scan them. She looked at me and smirked she was ugly as hell. 

"So u getting these for your girlfriend?" She winked at u and smirked.

"Not that it's any of ur business but yeah." I said irritated with this ugly ass cashier flirting with me when she got the side profile of a rat with the slicked back Draco Malloy hair.

"um okay your total is 16.49." She spoke as i handed her my card she put the items in a fancy's bag and handed me the bag as she spoke once more.

"have a nice day handsome!" She smiled and waved as I scoffed and walked off and met back up with topper.

"how'd it go? Find anything y/n will like?" Topper asked curiously.

"yeah just a perfume and a lingerie set she fin a get fucked in that shit to" I chuckled making topper laugh as my dick began to get hard from thinking about fucking her in the new lingerie set.

"anyways find anything Sarah would like?" I ask as topper nodded his head glowing a bright red shade.

"Yeah I got her some thongs and sexy bras." He said proud of himself

"Ew gross man that's my sister ur talking about!" I faked gag then laughing it off as topper's face glowed red again.

Later that day... 

Y/N'S POV:

U was laying on the bed u and Rafe share when suddenly Rafe opens the door and he's holding a Christmas paper wrapped gift as he smirks and walks over to u..

"got u an early Christmas present my love.." he smirks at u and handing the gift to u smiling as u take the gift. U open the gift to reveal a Victoria's Secret perfume and a sexy purple body set as u look at him smiling.

"thank you baby! I really wanted this perfume actually!" U say getting up from the bed hugging him as he kisses u.

"try the body set on I wanna see it on u" he orders u as u grab the body set and walk into ur closet changing into it and looking in the mirror and seeing how sexy u look as u walk out of the closet and rafe's eyes widen in excitement as he sees u.

"damn with ur sexy ass give me a spin" he says as he dicks is threatening to just pop out of his jeans. You give him a spin and he smirks licking his lips.

"get on that fucking bed now" he says sternly as u get on the bed knowing already what's gonna happen. He climbs on top of u kissing u harshly before moving to ur neck sucking on it giving u a hickey as u moan out in pleasure. He slowly takes off the top part of the body set and stares at ur boobs for a moment before sucking on ur left one while massaging ur right one with his hand.

"oh my god Rafe ur so fucking good at doing that~!" U moan out ur hands getting tangled in his hair as he smirks against ur nipple before pulling the bottom part of the body set off before pulling his shirt and his pants then his boxers as his painfully hard cock hits his lower stomach as he groans spreading ur legs open and looking at u to give him the confirmation to continue as u nod ur head. Rafe slides his cock into u with one thrust as u moan out from how full ur fill as he lets u adjust to his size before ramming into u like crazy.

"o~oh my god~ Rafe~!" U moan out as Rafe starts pounding faster making u moan louder. You already felt yourself slowly reaching ur high as rafe's body touches urs as he flips u over on all fours sliding his cock back in ur hole pounding relentlessly.

"damn your so fucking tight I love it" he moans lowly in ur ear and that almost makes u cum right then and there. 

"I'm gonna cum Rafe!" U squeal out as Rafe pounds harder and faster.

"no ur gonna hold it I want to cum with u" he groans in ur ear as u frantically try to hold ur orgasm in as he pounds faster.

"okay on the count of 3.." Rafe lowly speaks

"3.."

"2..." he says as he hits deeper inside of u.

"1..." he pounds into u once more with full force.

"cum..." he says as u moan out loudly as he fucks u through ur orgasm as he cuts inside of u but u were on the pill so it didn't matter as he pulls out of u laying on the bed beside u out of breath.

"god best early Christmas gift ever..." u say completely out of breath...

❤️Authors note💚: First Christmas smut done! What do u guys think? Let me know!

❤️Home alone or Elf💚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

❤️Hot chocolate or peppermint latte💚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

❤️Jack Frost or Saint Nick💚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

❤️Frosty the snowman or Rudolph the reindeer💚

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

❤️Sugarcookies or Gingerbread cookies💚