#I had like a whole thing prepared to talk about originally but I took a break and now my brain is empty

[jasonsknight3]

Unwanted help

AK jason Todd x sweet waitress reader

Warning: Contains violence, slight gore, aaaaaaand weapons (figured I needed to start putting warnings.)

Gotham had always been a dark place with even darker shadows. A sweetheart like yourself would be swallowed whole, or at least, you should have been. Lucky for you, you’ve only been subjected to unwanted catcalling and unauthorized touches. Most of it happens at your diner job. However, most of the women there waitressing had been there a long time and came to your rescue. Tell them off if you will because unfortunately you are the shiny new toy. Originally you came to Gotham for a college education, and to get away from home. To your dismay you had to drop out. Not because you were dumb or anything it’s just, well, you didn’t have the money. It just didn’t work out. Your life has come to be what it is now. Being stuck in a waitressing job. At least you made good tips and enough money to still live in your apartment.

After a harsh shift you were instructed to lock up the dinner. Which wasn’t supposed to be your job tonight. It required more effort than people would think. Make sure dishes were done, the place was clean, turn off lights, make sure chairs were put up, all the other micro things that added up. As soon as you locked that final glass door you hastily made your way to your bus stop. “No. No, no, no, no!” You cry as you see the bus just pull away from your stop. “Wait!” You shouted running even faster only for your desperation to be ignored. “No.” You weezed as you came to a stop, your hands resting on the top of your knees as you fought to catch your breath. Sitting up you looked around, nothing but an eerily quiet street, dim streetlights, and trash. This could easily become a dangerous situation for you. You weighed your options. Taxi was out of the question, you learned from others not to carry cash on you, you couldn’t go back to the dinner, it was closed and it’s not like anyone could help you there and you boss would tanya Hyde if he saw you sleeping in a booth the next morning, no one you knew was awake at this hour, that left only one option. Walking. Taking a breath you prepare yourself for the journey home clutching your purse close.

Cautious was an understatement of your behavior. Looking around Constantly, jumping at tray cats and trash that crinkled in the light wind of the night. About six minutes into your 15 minute walk an extremely alarming sound of someone crashing on the pavement around an alleyway corner. Shortly after the sound of pained groans followed. Your heart hammered in your chest, should you help? What if it was a trick for kidnapping? Should I just leave? You wandered to yourself. Against better judgment peeking around the alley corner you see a man who was crumpled over on the dirty pavement. The man started to get up on his hands and knees, slightly shaking with a groan. His voice sounded odd. Upon closer inspection you notice this man was wearing a red mask that had a slight glow to it, armor, an interesting jacket, and boots. Along with the gray and black suit was red. Blood. An alarmingly large amount of blood stained his gear. Out of instinct you approach him “sir, I’m here to help. I’ll call-“ a soft clicking sound took your attention to his raised hand that had a gun in it. A small gasp escaped your lips. “Get lost.” The man said the mask does not allow any clear emotion to be heard or recognized. Freezing in place you take a breath and continue to talk to him. “You're hurt, bleeding. I’d hate to leave you like this.” You reasoned. “I don’t need nor want your help. Leave the ambulance out of it too.” An odd request but you didn’t worry too much about it at the moment. “Please, you’ll die if I don’t get you help somehow?” You argued. “Very unlikely.” He was certainly stubborn. “Well…” you thought for a moment. “At least let me take you somewhere safe so you can patch up.” The man didn’t reply this time but he lowered the gun and then put it in its holster.

Sticking your hand out to him you hoped to encourage him further to accept help. He looked at it for a moment before getting up himself with a small growl. His legs wobble a little, automatically you rush to his aid tryi go to ease his strain. In a split second she shoved you off hard enough you slammed to the brick wall. You couldn't help but cough and wheeze. Singly he knocked the wind out of you. You honestly would have fallen flat on your back had the wall not been there. “Don’t touch me!” He yelled falling in one knee from the entertainment it took to push you that hard. Still leaning on the wall you catch your breath and push through the itching pain you felt on your back from hitting the rough brick wall. “I wasn’t going to hurt you. I promise.” You explained quietly. He mumbled something as he got back up and started to walk out of the alley. “Lead the way.” He demanded. Cautiously you walk up to him. “Okay, I’ll do that.” Glancing at him you ask. “Is it alright if I give you a hand? Just to make sure you don’t fall.” A moment of silence passed before he sighed and lifted his arm which you went under and had it around your shoulder and started taking him to your home.

A fifteen minute walk turned into a longer one but when you made it to your apartment and got inside you sat him down on the couch. “Go get a med kit if you have it.” He wasn’t very nice to be honest . No manners or since of please and thank you. In your bathroom you searched all the cabinets and finally found the med kit. How would he use it, you didn’t have anything in there besides bandaids- Neosporin, Peroxide, and some burn cream that was in a little rectangular bag. Well at least it’s something you reasoned. When you were in the living room there he was, helmet off, top gear off, and his compression shirt off. Nothing but skin. Skin that had scars, some flat, some slightly rose above the rest of the skin, heck, some of them even looked like the shape of barbed wire. As if sensing your presents he looked at you. A fairly masculine face, hooded iceberg blue eyes, his face has major scars. One that crossed from his cheek over the bridge of his nose and up, two on his lips, and a big J on his left cheek. “Well…” he said expectantly. When you got closer you noticed in his hand he had a needle and thread already working on sewing himself up. Setting the box down on the couch next to him you step back and watch. With tactical precision he was patched up within minutes. “Got any pain meds?” His voice was a little gravely and tired. “Yea, I have some.” Again you moved from your spot and headed for your medicine cabinet. Searching through it you found it, some ibuprofen. Turning around you yelp as your eyes are met with the stranger standing dangerously close to you. As soon as he had your attention his hand reached out and held your chin tight as he yanked you close. Eyes wide you stare into his own. “Listen well. You keep this to yourself. You never saw me. You never saw my face. If I ever…catch wind that you spouted out you saw me, I will not hesitate to kill you. I promise I’ll make it slow.” His grip tightened just to emphasize his point. “Got it?” In your lack of responding, he nodded your head for you. “Is that a yes?” You managed a yes through your squished cheeks. “Good.” Taking the medicine he let go and headed to the living room. After a moment you follow suit. He was putting his shirt back on, along with his gear. “Wait- you should rest.” You protest, you hate the thought of him not making it home safe. “I can handle myself, lady.” With that he put on his jacket and helmet. Opening a window he looked at you “don’t forget, you snitch, I’ll find you.” His voice modulated. As quick as he came he was gone. In the silence you just stared at the window questioning everything. There was something different about him. As scary as he was part of you hoped he’d come back.

You brought him to your home, your safe space, a place he would start to visit often and just maybe call it his own.

Got motivated to do a quick sketch, had to hide the hands by cropping the photo…😭

@eva-sparda20

[alastor-is-best-deer-boi]

Cute Lucifer, Lilith, and baby Charlie headcanons

Under the cut so I don't dash stretcher spam someone

Was absolutely overjoyed when Lilith told him he was going to be a father. Probably got teary-eyed let's be real.

Immediately started planning stuff with Lilith even though they had nine months, he wanted to be prepared.

Really hated seeing Lilith feeling ill and not feeling good in general. Helped her with whatever he could.

It got to the point that he became a little too helpful and overprotective. Lilith had to quickly remind him that she could still do plenty of things.

Before they decided on names, he'd call the baby "Duckling"

Originally thought it would've been strange talking to Duckling before they were born but sort of fell into the habit of it. Started telling hem about everything.

Charlie definitely recognized both of her parents' voices when she was born because of this.

Lucifer and Lilith going baby clothes shopping! Once they found out they were having a girl, Lucifer had the urge to buy all the cutest little dresses.

Attempted to build the crib but didn't understand the instructions (Lilith had to help)

Multiple instances of reality sinking in for him that he was going to be a father which caused some anxiety about if he'd be good at being a father or not.

He and Lilith were there for each other about each of their worries, which helped.

Reading a lot of baby books helped too.

Panicked more than Lilith when she went into labor but quickly managed to pull himself together because he didn't want to make it worse.

Was by Lilith's side the whole time, never wanted to leave her. Most supportive husband.

Definitely cried a little when Charlie was born.

Fun fact one of the first colors babies see is red, which means Charlie really paid attention to her dad's eyes 🥹

He came up with the Char Char nickname soon after she was born.

Loved to hold her, loved all the "baby cuddles" as he put it.

Got so much cute aggression/overwhelmed with love that he'd bury his face into Lilith's shoulder (while they were all cuddling together) and mutter about how he couldn't take how cute Charlie was.

His favorite thing to do was kiss the cute little circles on Charlie’s cheeks.

Lucifer always volunteered to take care of Charlie when she woke up in the night or at the very least brought Charlie to her mother so Lilith wouldn't have to get out of bed to feed her.

He loved all the important skin-to-skin time, holding a sleepy Charlie against his chest and hear her calm breathing.

Both parents made sure to keep a baby book and write in it constantly as well as taking baby photos.

There was no reason for either of them to wear their usual fancy clothes so Lucifer and Lilith were out here wearing t-shirts and sweat pants on a regular basis.

Lucifer got really excited when Charlie entered her babbling stage. Would always talk to her despite getting babbles in response.

Lucifer and Lilith singing lullabies to Charlie is a given.

Lucifer and Lilith having a friendly competition to see if Charlie would say Mama or Dada first.

Charlie ended up saying Duck. (Lucifer considered it a win)

Her second word was Mama. And then Dada was third.

Lucifer actively holding back tears when he'd hear Charlie’s happy giggles.

Lucifer doing the parent thing of pretending to eat her little fingers and feet to make her laugh.

Lucifer: "Charlie can crawl now!" *realizing his baby can basically free roam now" "Charlie can crawl now... oh no"

They extra baby proofed the castle when that happened.

Lucifer and Lilith cheering and encouraging Charlie when she took her first steps.

Lucifer and Lilith trying not to laugh when Charlie would try new foods like ice cream or a lemon.

*Charlie lovingly aggressively patting Lucifer's face* Lucifer: "Charlie, I know you're a baby and you're not good at this yet, but you're going to take my eye out"

Whenever Charlie does a certain thing, Lilith and Lucifer discuss who she learned it from.

Charlie copying her father's expressions a lot and Lilith laughing saying how similar they are (Lucifer doesn't see it)

*that one scene from Modern Family but it's Lucifer and Lilith trying to get Charlie out of the car after accidentally locking her in*

Lucifer flying while holding Charlie and letting her "fly" around the castle.

Lilith is always like "Not too high!"

Lucifer carrying Charlie around in a baby carrier or sling(?)

Lucifer coming up with excuses every time he brings Charlie to a meeting.

Lilith very gently playing "toss little Charlie like a sack of potatoes" on the bed or anywhere with a lot of cushions (Lucifer almost always has an aneurysm watching this despite nothing bad happening)

Charlie always getting plenty of cuddles and kisses from her parents :')

Lilith: "Luce, you can't cry every time Charlie cries..." Lucifer 😢 "watch me"

Charlie’s parents always telling her bedtime stories.

Lucifer: "Charlie fell asleep on me and now I can't move"

Charlie having glow up stars on her bedroom ceiling that work as night lights.

Lucifer out somewhere with Charlie: "It's getting late, I better get this one home" Charlie, sleepy but fighting it: "No.. no, no, no" Lucifer amused: "Yesss"

Charlie going to her parents every time there's loud thunder or something and them holding her and making her feel safe.

Charlie having bad dreams and insisting on sleeping in her parents' bed when she's scared. (Lucifer can never tell her no)

Little Charlie trying to get her parents' attention: "Look! Look! Watch!" *does a little spin and a hop* Lucifer and Lilith clapping: "Good job!!"

Lilith: "Charlie, we color on paper, not the floor" Charlie: "No I just 'tending" Lilith: "But you are coloring the floor, do you want some paper?" Charlie aggressively shoving the crayons away: "All done!"

Charlie always coming up with the craziest games to play. Lucifer is constantly confused but goes along with it.

Lucifer and Lilith telling each other crazy things Charlie did at the end of the day after she's gone to bed.

Lucifer getting emotional every now and then about how fast Charlie is growing up. :( Lilith's feels the same and they try to comfort each other.

Ending on a happier note, Charlie drawing pictures for her parents. Lilith keeps them on the fridge. Lucifer keeps some framed in his office.

That's all I have for now.

[sethsclearwater]

OMG PLEASE DO THIS BLURB REQUEST "would love a poly seth / embry x reader where both of them pissed the reader off and they’re just whining and doing crazy things to apologise bc they just miss readers hugs and kisses or something. thank you!!!" 🥺🥺🥺

"pretty girl?" seth called as he knocked at your apartment door, letting out a heavy sigh when you didn't answer.

both of your imprinters had managed to get sucked into patrol during a date night you three had planned all week and you couldn't have been more annoyed about it. you knew the whole supernatural shapeshifter thing was quite literally the reason you three were in a relationship in the first place but that didn't make you any less irritated about their ridiculous patrol schedules.

"we brought you some of that banana bread you like," embry called again after a moment, sighing as him and seth sat down in front of your door, already prepared to wait all day if it took that long.

thanks to their supernatural shapeshifting abilities, they knew you were inside so they weren't too concerned about looking like idiots if you weren't home.

at the sound of embry talking about sue's famous banana bread, you got up from your spot on the couch to come over to the door and sit down on the other side. both boys noticeably lit up when they heard you move over to the door, "pretty girl," seth murmured, "we're really sorry," he explained with a soft sigh, resting his head against the door as you thought through the pros and cons of letting them inside.

"we already talked to sam about it and he said he won't pair us up again unless you're okay with it," embry added and that caught your attention. they must've been more apologetic than you thought they were if they were so committed to making sure it never happened again.

after a few moments of silence, you spoke up, "you promise it won't happen again?" you asked softly, getting up so you could grab the handle of the door, already knowing their response before they said it.

"promise," both boys reassured and you unlocked the door, pulling it open so you could look at both of them.

you frowned when you saw just how distraught both boys looked. they must've been more affected by your ignoring them than you originally thought they were, "pretty girl," seth was the first to break the silence as he pulled you into a tight hug, "we're so sorry," he added as you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him back just as tight.

"i missed you," you murmured against his chest, sighing in relief when seth released you so your other imprinter could pull you into his arms, "and you too," you added when embry pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

you sucked in a few deep breaths as the three of you took in each other's presences for a moment, each of you relieved to know you were done with the stupid fight you'd been having all weekend.

"so do you wanna eat some banana bread and watch that movie we were gonna watch on friday?" seth asked softly after a moment, smiling when you nodded, offering embry one last tight squeeze before you let him go so the three of you could go into your apartment and makeup for the lost time.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

How would Katakuri and Kanroji Mitsuri reader interact each other? I feel like both characters are similar! It would be funny seeing Mitsuri saying that Katakuri is the perfect husband for her!

-It was an odd day on Whole Cake Island when you arrived, having just been transported due to a demon’s blood art. You had no idea where you were and since you arrived with a bang, destroyed several buildings, the guards quickly took you into custody.

-When Katakuri arrived in the dungeon, he wasn’t prepared to see you there, crying loudly, almost comically so. He read over the reports of your arrival, a black hole that opened in the sky and spat you out, sending you flying, but he was confused, you looked like a such a delicate person, how was it that you weren’t injured?

-He looked at your sword, finding it unlike anything else he had ever seen before, being forged so thin that it was like a whip- it was very impressive craftsmanship.

-After getting your side of the story, about nearly dying against a demon and being wrapped in a whirlpool of cursed blood, then you got shot out of the sky and landed here.

-He had a feeling, in his gut, that you were telling the truth and he let you out. Your large teary eyes and bright smile was a bit off putting, he didn’t like seeing you in tears, which confused him, he never acted like that with any of his siblings, so why was it so different for you, a stranger.

-You were introduced to Mama, who could sense that you were strong, and she allowed you to live on Whole Cake Island, which you bowed deeply for, thanking her which made her smile, seeing how polite you were.

-Katakuri was given the job of watching over you, to make sure that you weren’t going to be a threat to anyone, you didn’t mind, as you would have been cautious if you were in his position.

-He learned that you were a warrior, a Demon Slayer, and that you were one of the strongest, being a Hashira, which made him curious on how strong you truly were.

-Since you were not originally part of this world he couldn’t read you, he had to rely on his strength rather than his Haki to take you on. You surprised not only him but several others who had come to watch the fight, with how strong you were.

-You were a dainty looking thing, but you easily punched a crater into the ground where he had been standing only moments before. You didn’t manage to hit him, but you did catch his arm only once and managed to pull him, making his boots skid across the ground, which was super impressive, something you learned later on.

-You knew Katakuri was a strong man, but to hear about his exploits and adoration from his siblings, his image only grew in your eyes.

-You had earned his respect, being able to go toe-to-toe with him, at least for a little bit and he found himself wanting to spend more time with you.

-When he found out that you were a big eater on top of it, being able to easily pack away your meals without looking any different, he couldn’t help but smile behind his scarf, keeping it hidden, you were just getting better and better in his eyes.

-Mama could see the budding romance between the two of you, mainly with you, as Katakuri looked stoic as ever, but she could see your smile and lingering glances.

-She knew that Katakuri liked you as he invited you to have tea with him, letting you chat about your day to him while he just sat silently, letting you talk, enjoying his time with you.

-Mama had to wonder what the wedding was going to look like as a smile spread across her lips, calling for Katakuri to join her. You sneezed a short while later, which made you curious as to who was talking about you.

[ifuckinglovedinosaurssomuchjesus]

On the subject of Dinosaur Documentaries...

So Life On Our Planet dropped a few days ago, another installment of this seeming boom of these kind of shows since Prehistoric Planet last year, and it got me thinking about this whole little niche genre.

The very first "Paleodoc" was released in 1922, made by the Carnegie Museum of Natural History to educate museum goers on how the fossils they saw were collected and prepared. This began the format I like to call the "Talking Heads" Paleodoc which is mainly in the form of interviews or narration over actual footage of Paleontologists at work with the occasional "Live" Dinosaur for visual aid. These are by far the most common form of dinosaur documentary you'll find, even today, mainly because they're cheap to produce and fit in the general style of most science documentaries.

For many decades throughout the 20th century, Paleodocs were pretty rare. They would pop up time to time, and with the sudden influx of attention they got after Jurassic Park, we got some really good ones. Yet they were all the same Talking Head types. What really changed the game was the good ol Magnum Opus of the field: Walking With Dinosaurs.

WWD pioneered the second type of Paleodoc I believe to exist, which are the "In Their World" Paleodocs. These are different in the fact they focus almost entirely on the live visual aids, with the human presence being limited to narration or brief pauses for context. They're meant to simulate the modern nature documentary, like Planet Earth, that focus more on showcasing animal behavior with state of the art filming techniques than being a source of in-depth science.

The success of WWD cannot be overstated, and I have to say I do find the In Their World format a lot more engaging and easier to connect with. They portray the wonder of prehistory spectacularly, letting audiences get emotionally connected in the animal characters the story creates, even if this has lead to criticisms of anthropomorphism. These programs also almost always use real footage of modern day earth for their prehistoric creatures to roam on, which I'm sure is very sad for the people who want to see their favorite dead plants on screen.

The Walking With... series would expand into sequels and spin-offs and Nigel Marven, and other companies like Discovery would jump on the bandwagon and release their own takes on the concept, but by the mid 2010s the format had basically died out. We'd get one or In Their World style doc every few years until we just didn't get anything. Outside of the occasional TV special that reused When Dinosaurs Roamed America footage, it was empty.

It took until Disney's Live Action remake of The Lion King of all things for that pendulum to start swinging again. Seeing those expressionless CGI cats got Jon Favreau thinking about how he could use this technology and the talented people behind it to make something really cool, and we got Prehistoric Planet.

And, in a repeat of Walking With Dinosaurs, we're seeing more of these In Their World type shows. The original guys behind WWD are even making a comeback with their own series, Surviving Earth. Plus even more little hints and rumors of massive incoming projects from overexcited paleontologists trying not to break their embargo.

It looks like the 2020s will be another resurgence in these types of spectacle Paleodocs, and while a good ol Talking Head will always be there, I can't help but get excited for these animated spectacles and all the weird and wonderful ways they flash those visual aids across our TV screens.

[malarign]

scars painted with kisses

contains: bf!Heeseung x fem!reader | genre: angst with comfort/fluff (?) | tw! reader has scars though their origin is not specified, please read at your own discretion | wc: 0,6

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: huge thank you to skits! @hotteoki for beta reading it for for me 🫶 loved your comments 🤭

The long-awaited autumn finally came, the first autumn you’re going to spend with your boyfriend, Heeseung. Even though it hasn’t been a long time since you started dating, it was long enough for you to stop wearing long sleeves, now displaying your scars fully, in their whole glory. You thought it could be your first step to appreciate them and the part of your story they contain, but the grief and sadness they hide only make your disgust grow.

The worst part was how much you wanted to talk to him about them. To share this part of your life with him, since he proved himself to be the most loving and gentle man you’d ever encountered, with whom you felt safest and who always showed you he’s there for you. Yet sometimes you wished he could be the one to bring this topic up; you could never seem to know how to start the conversation yourself.

You often wondered what he actually thinks of them. Does he think they’re ugly? Disgusting? Maybe completely different?

Even if he thought they were horrid he’s not the type of guy to say so. Right?

You finished preparing Heeseung’s meal by the time he finally came back from work, soaking wet fremont the heavy rain that enveloped your city.

“Hi baby,” he panted, after making his way to you. He placed a quick peck on your cheek and washed his hands. “Have I ever told you how awesome your cooking is?” he murmured, wrapping his hands around your waist, back-hugging you.

“Actually, plenty of times, though you haven’t tried it yet,” you chuckled, trying to hide the goosebumps his hot breath on your neck caused.

“But I can already tell how tasty it is, just by the smell.” His compliment made a blush creep on your cheek.

“Go get changed, your food is waiting,” you turned around to face him, first thing you noticed was his dreamy smile.

He slowly walked his way to the bathroom and came back in grey sweats and a white T-shirt, ready to eat.

“You’re not gonna eat with me?” he asked when you placed a plate in front of him and sat next to him with a mug of your favourite tea.

“I just ate, sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he spoke and took a first bite. He quickly squeezed his eyes and fists. “Gosh, it’s delicious!”

“Don’t scare me like that, I thought something was wrong with it!”

You breathed a sigh of relief, placing your hand on your chest. You noticed how his eyes followed your hand movement, probably completely subconciously. You quickly hid your arms under the table, placing them on your knees, embarrassed not knowing why.

Silence engulfed both of you, as it waited impatiently who was going to break it.

“Y/n,” he finally called your name. You closed your eyes tight, knowing that the time to have that talk came. “Love, please look at me,” he gently asked and you slowly raised your gaze to his eyes.

They were just as gentle and loving as always. As if nothing had happened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.” He took your palm into his, just like he wanted to express his feelings better.

“You didn’t, Hee,” you quickly said. “It’s just…” You stopped for a moment, while he patiently waited. “They’re so ugly.”

“I don’t think they’re ugly,” he argued.

You looked at him again and noticed his hand, waiting for you to take it. With full strength you placed your arm in front of him, showing your skin painted with scars. Heeseung leaned in, placing soft and warm kisses on your forearm. When he was done showering that one part of your body that suffered the most with all the love he had for you, he firmly held it.

“They’re not ugly, Y/n. They’re not disgusting either. And most definitely they do not take away from who you are.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @yenqa, @heesitation, @edensgardenn

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Sharing Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Perhaps it's an illusion, but after he removes his glasses, those eyes that have always been looking at me seem even deeper.

With my soft exclamation, the already close distance becomes even more intimate, not leaving any gap.

His lowered lashes tremble lightly, brushing against my cheeks like butterfly wings.

His hot breath lingers on the corner of my lips for a while before finally enveloping it eagerly.

special thanks to ivi (@ivioivioivi on twitter) for helping me with translating some abstract things here 🫶

✂———————–

—[Part 1]—

The lecture hall is almost full, filled with students from the Film and Television Department of Loveland University.

Due to my previous programs consistently ranking first in viewership, universities' Film and Television Department often use them as case studies.

However, it's the first time today that both the production team and I have been invited to campus to give a sharing session.

Even though I've attended many events and ceremonies, as a behind-the-scenes person, I still feel a bit nervous under so many attentive gazes.

MC: Hello students, I'm MC.

Noticing a subtle unease in my tone, I can't help but recall the solemn vow that I made last night.

—[Flashback Start]—

MC: As long as I step onto the same podium where Professor Lucien once stood, I'll surely have the same demeanor as you!

Seeing me confidently waving the speech notes, Lucien couldn't help but chuckle.

Lucien: I'm curious, in your eyes, what kind of demeanor do I have?

MC: Of course you're someone who is both patient and effortlessly competent, and able to make complex concepts lively and engaging. In short, you're simply the best teacher in the world!

He gently gazed at me for a moment and then pulled me into his arms.

Lucien: [chuckles] If this biased classmate really were my student, my evaluations would probably become the highest in the whole school.

MC: What! The original highest score wasn't yours?

My exaggerated tone amused him, and Lucien rubbed my hair.

Lucien: If the Great Producer keeps showering me with praise like this, I might not be able to resist feeling proud.

Lucien: After the poster for the sharing session was put up, many colleagues came to greet me because of this outstanding family member*.

(T/N: his colleagues refer to MC as XM/Lucien's family🥺)

MC: So it seems that the reason I agreed at that time was very correct~

Facing his curious gaze, I winked at him.

MC: Because that was the invitation sent by your school.

—[Flashback Ends]—

Looking down at the audience below once more, I steady my mind.

Just as I'm about to speak, I hear a familiar voice.

??: Sorry, teacher, I'm late. Can I still come in and listen now?

MC: Of course—

Unwittingly, I glance towards the classroom door, my eyes widen in surprise when I see Lucien.

The classroom buzzes with murmurs, as the students have also recognized him.

Lucien: Thank you, teacher. Sorry to interrupt everyone.

I stare dumbfoundedly as he approaches and calmly places a piece of paper on the podium.

Lucien: My late slip.

MC: Ah, okay…

Not until he steps down to find an empty seat do I notice that the completely blank late slip is covered with a sticky note-

-filled with a drawing of a little rabbit on the lectern talking eloquently, and in the audience seat, a little fox applauds with a smile on his eyes.

I can't help but look up at him, seeing that he has already found a seat and is quietly gazing at me.

The distance between us isn't close, but his gaze has already dispelled most of my unease.

So I collected myself and took out my speech notes.

MC: I originally wanted to chat with everyone, but our department head wouldn't allow it, so I had to prepare a speech.

A wave of friendly laughter ripples through the audience, completely easing my nerves.

Very soon, I smoothly finished speaking according to the notes.

MC: ...Actually, the birth of every successful case is influenced by many uncontrollable variables.

MC: Even if we as creators replicate the so-called “speak from experience”, it may not necessarily generate new successful cases.

MC: In the end, I think sharing some practical insights is better.

MC: I often feel that filming is similar to life, it's a process of establishing a stable relationship with the world.

MC: And some specific yet small orders will bring us a sense of certainty about life and becoming an important part of life.

MC: If you don't know what to shoot, you can look within your own world.

MC: Taking myself as an example, like... the flower shop that opens at 8 a.m. near my home. And also...

As I speak, I look at the audience, meeting head-on the gaze that has never shifted.

There is an itch in my heart, always wanting to express something. Before I know it, I've already put down the speech notes--

MC: [smiling softly] The light from my neighbor's house next door often stays on until 4 a.m.

✂———————–

—[Part 2]—

Amidst the continuous applause, Lucien beamingly applauds, bearing a striking resemblance to the little fox on the sticky note.

At this moment, the dean beside me suddenly leans in, lowering their voice as they speak.

Dean: MC, you delivered your speech too smoothly. Here's the bad news: there are still 20 minutes left before class ends.

MC: [sweating nervously] Ah? What should I do? Do you have anything else you want to say?

Seeing him shake his head, my brain starts to work at lightning speed, and suddenly, I think of something.

MC: Since we're out of things to say, we'll just have to let the students speak.

The next moment, a student stood up bewildered as we called their name.

Dean: Everyone, feel free to express your thoughts. Share your feelings after attending the sharing session.

Student A: Oh! I found Teacher MC's talk very interesting. I've also been pondering about some small "orders" just now.

Student A: Like the video call my mom makes every night and the taro ice cream that the school convenience store restocks every Thursday afternoon at three.

Laughter instantly fills the room, as if this were a well-known understanding among everyone.

Immediately, several students also raise their hands, eager to join the conversation.

Student B: When spring arrives, the peach blossoms on the campus will bloom the earliest.

Student C: There's an old librarian who likes to blow his beard, it turns out he's stuck on sudoku.

This time, everyone fell silent for a moment, emitting small gasps of surprise.

Student C: Because of the old man's habit of blowing his beard, I made a documentary about him... but the film lacked soul.

Student C: So I want to ask, how do you find something worth expressing?

I think for a moment before speaking earnestly.

MC: The best way I can think of is to ask yourself what you most want to express from your heart.

MC: Once you have the answer, you will discover that it may have just been sustaining the order you rely on the most to survive right now.*

MC: It's also the closest connection between you and this world—

MC: At that moment, many natural words or images will appear before you effortlessly.

(T/N: tbh it's really abstract even in CN LOL, but I take from it that perhaps what you want to express is already on the orders in your life all along? Keep this in mind until the last part)

I instinctively glance at Lucien and notice the corners of his eyes slowly curving.

Student C: Can you give an example?

MC: Um?

Perhaps the answer was too clear before my eyes, and in that moment, I hesitated instead.

As I realize, I've already missed the opportune moment for the best response, and I can't help but feel a bit embarrassed.

And the person in my line of sight seems to have chuckled, raising his hand.

Lucien: I'd like to share something too.

As soon as these words were spoken, students turned their curious gazes towards him, and I also waited nervously for his speech.

Lucien: I feel that, often, before finding the expression, perhaps it's the order itself that takes precedence in life.

Lucien: After you become aware of it, it has already brought about natural habits and rules.

Lucien: Therefore, for me, perhaps the modification and alteration of the order itself appear to be more special. The things born from it make people want to dig and explore deeper.

Lucien: For example, the hot milk that always appears when I write a paper, or the scolding I received for not sleeping, which seems to have started at some unknown point…

Even as I try to control my expression, I still feel my cheeks getting a little warm.

The instigator, however, seemed oblivious to my shyness, unabashedly casting an eager gaze my way.

Lucien: Teacher MC, if all the orders of life point to one person at the same time, then wouldn't her existence—

Lucien: Be tantamount to the closest connection between me and this world?

✂———————–

—[Part 3]—

The meeting ends, and after saying goodbye to my colleagues, I decide to take a walk around campus with Lucien.

I'm still immersed in the confession that only we knew a moment ago. Even my steps feel a bit light.

Lucien: You seem to have more talent for being a teacher than I imagined.

Lucien: If I had a teacher like you when I was studying, I would definitely sit in the front row every class.

Lucien: Would this teacher choose me as the class representative?

As he speaks seriously, I pretend to consider.

MC: Hmm... I'll think about it.

He nods thoughtfully, but a smile slowly appears in his eyes.

Lucien: So, to become the class representative, it seems I need to pay more attention to the teacher.

Lucien: [teasingly] Your face seems to have been flushed since I raised my hand to answer the question. Are you feeling uncomfortable?

Colliding with his narrowed smiling eyes, I blush and playfully poke his arm.

MC: Lucien!

Lucien: [chuckles] It seems that the teacher has already remembered my name.

Seeing his pretending-to-be-serious expression, I can't help but laugh.

Lucien: Moreover, it seems you set an example for me first.

I raise my puzzled gaze, then collide with his slightly teasing smiling eyes.

Lucien: After all, it was teacher MC who mentioned me first.

Lucien: It appears that I didn't realize I had become part of your order so long ago.

MC: ….!

I belatedly react, embarrassedly wanting to reach out and cover his mouth.

He chuckles softly and catches my hand, squeezing it into his palm.

Hand in hand, we walk through the campus, bathed in the gentle light filtering through the trees, softly resting upon us.

Occasionally, students pass by us, heading in the same direction.

The moment I curiously glance in that direction, he already grasps my hand, leading me towards it knowingly.

Ten minutes later, standing at the entrance of the convenience store, we look at the taro ice cream in each other's hands and laugh together.

Despite the slight chill in the air, I eagerly take a big bite, instantly filled with the soft, sweet flavor of taro.

MC: No wonder it can become an unspoken understanding among everyone, it's just too delicious!

Lucien also takes a bite of the ice cream, his eyes widening slightly.

Lucien: [gasps in a pleasant surprise] It's a bit cold... but indeed the taste exceeds imagination.

MC: But it seems quite popular on campus. You've never tried it before?

He shakes his head, then as if something catches his eye, he lifts his hand and gently rests it on the top of my head.

Lucien: Although there are indeed many beauties in this world that I have yet to discover…

Lucien: They always seem to be miraculously brought to me by you.

He opens his palm towards me, revealing a pale pink petal lying inside, probably the one he just picked from the top of my head.

I raise my head, and several peach blossoms hanging from the branches come into view.

Realizing that the scenes shared by the students seem to be coincidentally unfolding before us, I look at Lucien with some excitement.

MC: How about we go to the library again and see that old man who loves to do Sudoku?

Unfortunately, the one sitting at the librarian's desk in the reading room is a young girl.

MC: Looks like the old man isn't on duty today…

Sensing my gaze, the girl looks back at me with a puzzled expression.

I instinctively turn to the side, then immediately hear a muffled chuckle from above.

Lucien: [chuckles] Are you forgetting that you* have always had the right to come and go here?

MC: Right…

[T/N: Actually, Lucien teasingly refers to MC as 教师家属 (teacher’s family member) in that sentence. Anyway since he’s a teacher here, and she’s his ‘family member’ she has the right to just come to the library at any time. They can find him at another time together^^]

The familiar reading room, the season of peach blossoms blooming, and the person beside me with a smile, everything seems to be no different from two years ago.

[Reference to Impression Date!]

But unlike back then, the once quiet and empty reading room is now filled with students quietly reading. I can't help but lower my voice.

MC: I don't think I asked you last time, where do you like to sit when you read?

His indifferent gaze falls lightly on the sun-drenched tables and chairs without much emotion.

Lucien: I prefer to borrow books from the third-floor lending room and read them at home rather than here.

MC: Oh? I always thought you wouldn't be picky about reading environments.

Lucien: For me, the environment indeed has little impact on the reading experience.

Lucien: However, at home, there's always a little lady who will snuggle up next to me and read together.

He pauses for a moment, looking at me earnestly.

Lucien: It's hard not to develop a sense of dependence on the comforting environment you create.

✂———————–

—[Part 4]—

MC: Wow, it's "Essays in Love"!

Just as I stepped into the lending room, I paused in front of a somewhat familiar novel.

Lucien: Mm, compared to the story in the book, I'm more impressed by MC's "kidnapping”*.

[T/N: reference to Devotion Date where MC 'kidnaps' Lucien]

He holds my hand and leads me with a smile, I haven't even taken a few steps yet when another book catches my eye.

MC: "YOUR ATOMIC SELF"? You just read it recently during the check-in event!

Lucien: Yes, I returned it after finishing. If you want to read it, there's a new copy in the study that I just bought.

We walk hand in hand through the empty shelves, and every few steps, we come across familiar traces.

MC: Hehe, this book is one we read together.

Lucien: However, after flipping through a few pages, it seems like a girl fell asleep in my arms.

MC: [sweating] Haha, it's the kind of thing you can forget about.

Lucien: [teasingly] Oh? Looks like MC isn't too curious about what happens after she falls asleep.

His lips curled a bit, as if recalling something amusing.

MC: What is it?

Lucien: Actually... [chuckles] about half an hour after you fell asleep, I fell asleep too.

MC: Pfft! If even you fell asleep, then it must be the fault of the book.

Lucien: Though it's a bit impolite to say, the author's writing does lack logical coherence.

Seeing his slightly furrowed brow and troubled expression, I suddenly felt the urge to tease him, so I struggled to suppress a smile.

MC: But I think it's impressive in its own way.

Lucien: Hm?

MC: It can be used for hypnosis~ Next time if I find you refusing to sleep, I'll just read it aloud beside you, and you'll drift off in no time.

Seemingly taking it seriously, he even pondered for a moment before speaking.

Lucien: [chuckles] But the feasibility of this method is not very high.

MC: Why?

Lucien: After all, it seems like you'd get sleepy before managing to lull me to sleep.

Seeing him speak earnestly, but his eyes already betraying laughter, I can't help but laugh along with him.

The clock hanging on the wall quietly completes a full circle as we step into the innermost section of the document area.

Scholarly journals written in various languages are neatly arranged on the bookshelves, bringing together a vast ocean of wisdom.

Suddenly, I remembered something and looked at him with a hint of anticipation.

MC: I remember you recently published a paper in a core journal. Can we find it here too?

Lucien: Nowadays, many publications are distributed in electronic formats. I'm not sure if the library would have hard copies.

His gaze wanders through the dizzying array of titles for a long time, seemingly without finding anything.

So he walks over to the search computer, typing the journal's name on the keyboard, and after hitting the enter key, he squints a little at the screen.

Lucien: [chuckles] Found it.

MC: Huh? They have even the newest ones. Can I find the article you published earlier too?

Five minutes later, I find myself dazedly staring at the thick journals in my arms.

MC: Even though I know about every paper you've published, seeing them all together still makes me want to marvel at your brain…

MC: Can I absorb some of your wisdom by reading these articles?

Lucien: I don't think so.

With a lingering inflection, he leans down slightly and pecks my lips.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] But maybe this way you can.

His earnest demeanor makes it impossible for me to suppress a smile.

MC: Hehe, with Professor Lucien sharing his wisdom with me, I'll definitely be able to read research papers with ease in the future!

As I speak, I flip through the pages and quickly find Lucien's article among them.

Unfamiliar foreign languages and complex technical terms occasionally trip me up as I read, but it doesn't stop me from carefully perusing the text bit by bit.

In his concise and clear theories, it feels like I can see every dull piece of data he recorded and every sleepless night he endured.

And there's also that curiosity that never extinguished, even after countless failed attempts.

Merely watching him moving forward fills me with immense pride.

Unconsciously, I reach the end of the paper, and suddenly, I feel as though I see my name flash before my eyes.

I calm myself and carefully read through the last section once again.

The next moment, as my gaze flicks over the acknowledgments section, I feel my heart skip a beat.

There, my own name actually appears-

And finally, I would like to thank my dear (y/n)-

--whose love and support has always been the driving force pushing me forward.

I stare at him in disbelief, but he just looks at me and smiles.

Having a faint idea of what's going on, I proceed to flip through several other journals.

Without exception, there's a line of acknowledgment dedicated to me after each of his articles.

An indescribable surge of emotions overwhelms me, leaving me momentarily speechless, but he instantly pulls me into his arms with a chuckle.

Lucien: [chuckles, then whispers] What to do.

Lucien: Seeing my little lady so surprised, it seems I can't easily showcase my research results in the future.

His pretended distress amuses me, and I lightly pat him on the shoulder.

MC: You know very well that I'm very happy.

He pulls me into his hug, his chin rubbing against the top of my head.

Lucien: [whispers softly] Um, of course I do.

Lucien: [x2] It's just that seeing you happy because of me, I can't help but feel happy too.

MC: You never mentioned it before.

He looks into my eyes as if trying to see into my heart.

Lucien: [x3] Just like eating and sleeping every day, I don't seem to feel that this is something necessary to mention specifically.

Lucien: [x4] Just as you appear in every corner of my life…

Lucien: [x5] I naturally think of you in the moment of completing an article, and naturally want to express thank you to you.

Lucien: [x6] This natural feeling…

Lucien: [x7]...is like when spring arrives, flowers will naturally bloom.

My heart feels like it's being gently tickled by his whispers, making me unable to resist any longer, so I stand on tiptoe and kiss him.

The next moment, he gently lifts me up, quietly closing the distance between us.

The gauze curtains sway, casting a touch of charm onto the light and shadow falling upon us.

Perhaps it's an illusion, but after he removes his glasses, those eyes that have always been looking at me seem even deeper.

I stare at his handsome features in a trance, unaware of the sudden strength supporting my lower back.

With my soft exclamation, the already close distance becomes even more intimate, not leaving any gap.

His lowered lashes tremble lightly, brushing against my cheeks like butterfly wings.

I have to close my eyes so that my heart doesn't beat too chaotically.

His hot breath lingers on the corner of my lips for a while before finally enveloping it eagerly.

The pleasant breath gradually penetrates my lips and mouth, and then spreads all over my body, making me completely surrender myself to him.

In my hazy consciousness, I faintly hear the sound of flowers blooming.

My next spring with him- really seems to have arrived.

[cookiescribble]

Something New

A/N: Someone asked me for a part two of this, and honestly? Don’t have to ask me twice, I’ve been thinking about it a lot 🫶🏻 sorry it took a little more time than I was expecting, we’re going on vacation soon so a lot of our time is being spent preparing for that :) - mod angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Summary: Spencer has been spending a lot of time bonding with his new coworker, and they’re starting to realize that they might have more feelings than they were ready for.

~~~

     I was, admittedly, pretty nervous the first time I came over Spencer’s apartment.

     I’ve always been a really shy person, and new situations always seemed a little intimidating to me. But Spencer was… different, and that comforted me. 

     I walked up to his apartment that first day, fidgeting a little as I approached his door. I took a deep breath and knocked lightly. 

     He answered the door, smiling, gesturing for me to come in. 

     I smiled and looked around his apartment. I hadn’t known him very long but it seemed very… him. There was a bookshelf against one of the forest green walls that held a large amount of books; if it belonged to anyone besides Spencer, I would’ve doubted all the books had been read. But I guess if you can read as fast as he can, getting through all those books isn’t that big a deal. 

     He led me to the couch and motioned for me to sit down. He had taken out a DVD set of Star Trek: The Original Series that was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. 

     He took the DVDs and started speaking. “So, I know you said you’ve seen some of TOS, but I figured it would be better to watch it completely through from start to finish.”

     “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen any of it,” I replied. “Plus, I always like to watch things fully in order. I can’t just pick up a show in the middle. I have to start at the beginning.”

     He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I feel the same way! People have told me it’s not a big deal to start watching a show in the middle, but I could never do that.”

     I smiled. “Plus, there’s only 3 seasons of TOS, right? It’s not that hard to get through.” I could feel myself calming down as the conversation seemed to flow easily between us. 

     “There’s only 79 episodes. It’s really short, considering how many other shows and movies came out of it.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment as he put the DVD in the player. “… I have all the other Star Trek shows and movies too, if you want to watch them.” He cleared his throat and quickly continued, “of course, for now we’ll just stick to this and, um, we don’t even have to finish if you end up changing your mind…”

     I shook my head. “No, I want to do this. I think it’ll be fun.” I smiled reassuringly. “Plus, what I have seen I’ve really liked, so I definitely want to watch the whole thing.”

     He smiled back at me and sat on the opposite end of the couch. “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to agree to this. Most people don’t really take my interests seriously…” he admitted, sounding a little sad. 

     I just shrugged. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I? Why would I come here if I wasn’t interested?” 

     “I guess that’s true,” he said as he picked up the remote. “… So, are you ready to start?”

     I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready,” I responded before he started playing the first episode. 

…

     We fell into a regular routine after that first day. 

     I’d usually come over about once a week. We’d always start with Spencer recapping the last episodes we watched, recalling them in perfect detail so I could remember exactly what happened. 

     I really liked watching the show with him. A lot of times, he’d get really excited and talk during the episodes. He’d always apologize when I asked him to rewind so I could catch what I missed while he was talking, but I always told him I didn’t mind. And I really didn’t, I loved listening to him talk. He always had something interesting to say. 

     I found myself starting to watch him more than I watched the show. I was trying really hard not to admit it to myself, but I was really starting to feel something between us. I’d noticed the way we both started to get comfortable with each other as time went on, and how we started to sit closer to each other every time we hung out. I felt some kind of… spark, whenever I was with him. 

     I tried to ignore this feeling, but it was getting more and more difficult. I felt so happy to see him all the time; hanging out with him felt like the highlight of my week. I looked forward to it for days, and I couldn’t help but think of how much I wanted to be alone with him when I saw him at work. 

     But I kept this all to myself. It was just a silly crush, and I didn’t even know if he had feelings like that. Plus, there’s no way I could have a crush on a coworker. That could never work out well. 

     Right?

… (POV change)

Spencer wasn’t used to spending so much time with someone. Sure, he talked with his coworkers every day, but it wasn’t the same. No one shared interests with him like this. 

Since this was all new to him, he figured these feelings he was having were just normal when you made a new friend. This certain fondness he was feeling that he had never felt before now. 

But as time went on, and he kept spending more time with them, he was starting to suspect he was feeling a little more than friendly with them. He started spending a lot of time wishing they would hang out more. Eventually, he couldn’t help it, and asked them to come over even if he’d already seen them that week. He’d say it was because he wanted to keep watching the show, but really he was just excited to see them. 

Eventually, he couldn’t deny the feelings he had for them anymore. 

There was one day they came over, after there had been a particularly exhausting case. It just so happened to end on the day they had both been reserving to watch the show together. Spencer offered to switch the days and let them catch up on sleep, but they insisted that they still wanted to come over. 

It wasn’t a problem for a while, but eventually, as Spencer was talking, they stopped replying to him. He looked over to see they had fallen asleep curled up on the couch. 

He just stared at them for a few moments before pausing the show, not wanting them to miss what was happening. He wasn’t sure what to do; he didn’t want to wake them up because they looked so peaceful. They looked… really cute…

He shook his head as if trying to shake the thought out of his mind. He stood up, getting a throw blanket and gently placing it over them, careful to not wake them up. 

He walked to the kitchen, figuring he’d make something to eat in case they were hungry when they woke up. Really, he just needed an excuse to not be near them right now. It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to slip his arm around them and let them sleep on him.

He tried not to let his mind wander as he made dinner, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t stop thinking about them.

He kept trying to rationalize his thoughts, like he always did. It had never been a problem before; he had always been a logical person, so it had never been difficult to keep his thoughts in check. Until now.

He knew that he shouldn’t have feelings for a coworker. It just wasn’t professional. And besides, they probably didn’t feel the same way about him. No one ever had. It was new to him just to have someone willing to share his interests. Their feelings probably ended there: he was just a new friend to them.

Although… there have been multiple occasions where he thought he saw them sneaking glances at him. And the way they looked at him, he thought that maybe they were starting to have feelings for him too…

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice them waking up and walking into the kitchen until they spoke to him.

“Hey…” they started. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was falling asleep.”

Spencer jumped a little before turning to look at them. They still had the blanket wrapped around their shoulders. They looked really comfortable that way. And the sleepy tone in their voice…

He cleared his throat. “That’s okay. We had a pretty tiring few days with that case, so I figured I’d just let you sleep. You seemed like you needed it.”

They smiled sleepily. “Yeah, I guess I did.” They turned their attention to the kitchen counter. “You made dinner? Was I asleep that long?”

He shook his head. “You weren’t out for too long, but I figured you might be hungry when you woke up, so…” He trailed off, blushing a bit.

They smiled. “Thank you. I am actually pretty hungry.” They hugged the blanket a little closer to them, rubbing their eyes a bit.

Spencer turned around and grabbed two plates, carrying them to the coffee table in the living room. They followed him and sat down on the couch, moving the blanket so it was laying across their lap.

They ate in silence, the show playing on the TV in front of them, though they both seemed to have trouble paying attention to it.

After a few more episodes, it was time to leave. Spencer took the blanket when they handed it to him, putting it back where it was before.

He walked to the door with them, like he always did. Today, though, they lingered in the doorway a little longer. Maybe it was the tiredness, or maybe they just finally found the courage they’d been looking for all this time.

“Um…” they started, looking a little nervous. “Thank you for making dinner tonight. That was really nice.”

He smiled warmly at them. “Oh, it was no problem, really. I was hungry too,” he laughed awkwardly.

They smiled a bit, but they had a concentrated look on their face. “Well, uh, I was wondering… Maybe one day you’d like to… go out to dinner?” They took a deep breath before continuing quietly. “Like… as a date?”

He blushed and smiled, all the thoughts of doubt he’d been having earlier thrown out the window. “Yeah, I... I’d really like that.” He tried to sound calm, but it was clear he was really excited about it.

They smiled back at him, the nervousness gone as they realized he was just as happy about it as they were. “Okay. It’s a date, then.”

They said their goodbyes, both of them unable to stop smiling as they thought about what their future together would hold.

[rupertsfangirl]

Ron Weasley Imagine-Comforts you after a rough day at work (Smut)

Disclosure: Spanking, oral (female & male receiving), Probably missing sum but idk.

Summary: You have a long and rough day at work and your doting husband Ron takes care of you when you get home (IYKYK). 

Word count:2.5k

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Ron Weasley

Note: HOLY HELL I APOLOGIZE! I know I released the original all fluff version like weeks ago but the holidays came around and then my birthday and a bunch of other things but anyway I’m back for now (hehe). I am starting school up again but I should have a bunch of free time due to most of my classes being extracurricular ones since I took college courses to do the other classes early (Yippee for me). Anyway I really hope you enjoy it. I know I had fun writing it even though it took me like a million years. I do plan on making a twins one but I kinda need to rewrite it cuz I accidentally set it in a time period making them underaged sooo yea gotta redo that, oopsies. 

Ron stood in the doorway and let his blue eyes trace your figure. 

“You look beautiful.” You blushed at his compliment. 

“Well today is important.” He walked up next to you and took the necklace you planned to wear off the desk. He placed it around your neck while you lifted your hair allowing him to clasp it together. 

“Perfect,” he whispered, placing his hands on your waist from behind. You smile as you put your matching earrings in. 

“Alright, I'm ready.”

“Do you have everything prepared?”

“Yes, it's all in my organizer.”

“Well then don’t forget you are amazing and you’ve got this, go get’em.” You hug him feeling a surge of extra confidence from his words. You walk out of the room and down the stairs to the fireplace, Ron trailing behind you. He presses a kiss onto your forehead. While stepping into the fireplace you grab a palm full of floo powder,

“Ministry of Magic.” You watch as Ron disappears behind the flames and the ministry's black brick walls appear. You start towards the conference room feeling the sweat on your palms, you take a deep breath and reassure yourself. 

“You got this.” You step into the room first, as you expected. You begin to set up your presentation; it was an important one because it would allow your department to expand and potentially lead to a promotion for yourself. Once everyone had arrived you began the presentation. You glided through with ease feeling quite cool and collected the whole time. Why had you been so nervous before, you thought of Ron’s words and smiled internally. After the presentation you were feeling pretty good about it. You left the room and started back toward your office however you heard a few of the wizards and witches who had been in the room talking badly about your presentation. It made you upset and questioned whether you had hallucinated that you were so calm while presenting. You tried to shake it off but remained in a funk the rest of the day. And add that you were behind on just about everything due to being understaffed, it was a combination of all the things that made you overwhelmed. 

You had stayed about 3 hours overtime and got home later than you planned; but even still the second you got home Ron was there to greet you. He took your bag, giving you a kiss while grabbing it, and placed it on the couch. 

“How was work?” You only groan in response. “That bad sweetheart?” You nod and place your head onto his shoulder letting out a big sigh. Ron tries comforting you by rubbing your back and holding your head. 

“Why don’t you get out of those clothes and we can just relax.” 

“Alright,” you say, grabbing your bag and heading upstairs to change into something comfy. You take your hair out of the tight bun it's been in all day and fling off the narrow pumps your feet were squished into; sitting down you take out your earrings and necklace. 

Suddenly Ron shouts from downstairs, “I have a surprise for you!” You can’t help but feel excited using a spell to quickly and cleanly remove your makeup. You make your way back downstairs to see a table set with two plates of delicious looking food, candles, and glasses of the good stuff (nice wine). Ron looks pleased with himself and you can’t help but feel like you drooled a bit when you saw the food. 

“Oh my goodness, what did I do to deserve you?” You give him a tight hug and you both sit to eat. You tell him all about the rough day you had and he shows all his emotions on his face like he usually did: anger when you told him about the people who talked bad about you, worry when you told him about all the work you have, and excitement when you told him that you still felt the presentation went well. Then he told you all about the day he had at work which was usually light hearted as he co-managed the joke emporium with his brother George. He always managed to make you laugh with something crazy that happened. You guys finished eating and took the plates to the kitchen placing them in the sink then Ron used a spell to start washing them. 

“What do you feel up to, darling: a bath, a movie, or maybe me?” You giggled at his proposal and rubbed your finger on your chin pretending to think really hard. 

“Hmm, what about a massage; my back and feet are killing me.” 

“I can make that happen.” He had placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “Go up to the room, I’ll meet you up there.” 

“Okay.” You head up the stairs and into the room, you lie face down on the bed placing your head into your arms. Ron walks in a minute or so after with a bottle of oil. 

“Well you have to take off your shirt,” he chuckled while giving you a knowing look. You roll your eyes at him making sure to face away from him while removing your shirt. You quickly lay back down on the bed and soon after Ron drips the warm oil onto your back instantly soothing you. He begins to glide his hands along the sides of your back to your shoulders where he puts pressure and squeezes causing you to let out soft moans. 

“You have magic hands Ronnie,” you mumble jokingly. He chuckles quietly and continues to massage the knots out of your shoulders. He then slowly moves his hands down to your lower back and using his thumbs he presses into it and moves out slowly; you gasp lightly feeling loose and calm. 

“Did that feel good?” You nod into the bed and he smiles feeling happy he can please you. Ron’s rough yet gentle hands rubbing from your neck, to your shoulders, to your tailbone. You feel as though you're on a cloud and you allow your mind to wonder. You sense his fingers slip into your pants, slowly pulling them down; you think about telling him off but it’s been awhile since you two had been sexually intimate, so you let him continue. His hands caressing your ass; starting from the bottom of your cheeks and squeezing while sliding up. He pulled the spandex waistband of your underwear letting it slap back down onto your waist and swiftly slapping your ass making you tremble. While sliding your pants off all the way, his hand came down a second time leaving you a shade redder. 

He smirked at his ability to make you squirm and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Ass up.” You bite your lip, abiding his demand, getting on your knees and arching your back to lift your backside into the air. He ran his thumb under the trim of your underwear, lifting it and planting another slap on your cheek; you jump, letting out a slight squeal. 

A pleased grin spread on his face, “You’re so wet for me.” Placing the pad of his finger on the forming wet circle, beginning to rub it; the friction of the fabric against your entrance causing a moan to escape your lips. His fingers traced over your lips gradually moving inwards towards your more sensitive areas; slowly working up the pressure but keeping the same pace. 

“Your hands really are magic.” 

“That's not all that's magic,” a sly smile forming on lips. He roughly pulled off your underwear revealing just how wet you really were. His tongue gently skimming your thigh until slowly reaching your vagina. You softly call out his name as he draws circles and places kisses; soon after pushing his tongue into you. Sultry breaths and rough hands accompanied by a soft tongue brought a rising heat. Contrasting with the coldness of his fingertips as they explored your legs before placing another slap on your ass, pulling a whine from your throat. His mouth hovered just above your clit, placing gentle kisses around the hood and releasing light slow breaths onto it, making you ache for his tongue on your clit. Your hips seemed to take control attempting to move closer to his mouth; prompting Ron to plant another slap on your already rosy cheek. 

“You have to be patient,” he tutted before treating your ass to several quick slaps. The sensations drawing out sounds you were unaware you could make. 

“Please,” you whine.

 He smirks into your skin and shakes his head, “But I love watching you beg.” His finger trailed from the top of your vulva to the bottom; his breath still seemingly rubbing your clitoral hood. As his finger was just to touch your clit he pulled away skipping over the area then continued down. Every time he did this you whined and squirmed, craving his finger pads on your deprived clit. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, the feeling of Ron’s muggy breath and his coarse hands that knew all the spots to make you scream. 

“Ronnie, I-” 

“You're close, I know.” His voice trailed as he put his tongue back to work making you moan at the sudden warm stimulation. He slowly licked up to your clit and finally allowed it some love. Your voice filled the room and you could feel your climax on the tip of your tongue as could he (literally). You felt as if you were filling up until it spilled over, spreading throughout your body making you shiver and moan Ron’s name. Your legs become wobbly and weak causing you to fall flat back onto the bed. Ron flipped you onto your back and wiped your watery eyes. 

“How does my princess feel? Can she take another round?” his hands rubbing your cheeks and head. You felt all the warmth from his body next to yours. You turn your head to face him and biting your lip you nod. He smiles, “We can take a break.” Suddenly you feel a surge of energy from the very last remnants of your orgasm; quickly you straddle Ron who looks shocked but also extremely turned on. You slide his pants down slowly with his boxers in tow, revealing his hard cock. 

“It's so perfect. Perfect for me.” You place a kiss on the head, Ron smiles as his cheeks turn a light red. You slide down his legs to make it easier for your mouth to reach. You reached for the oil on the floor and put a bit on your hand. Placing your hand he twitched at the temperature change. You gripped the center and began slowly moving up and down placing kisses along the side. 

“Sorry it's cold.” He only mumbled under his breath in response. Your other hand made its way to his balls cupping them and beginning to massage them. Dragging your tongue across the head you heard Ron let out stifled moans, using his hand to cover his mouth. His eyes locked with yours, he seemed nervous but you maintained the contact seemingly making him more sensitive. You smile to yourself as you continue to navigate your tongue around his sensitive head, licking up a bit of precum in the process. 

“Does that feel good?” You watched as he brought his hand to grab the back of your head; he lightly tugged your hair letting you know he liked what you were doing. “You need to use your words darling,” you whisper smugly. Using his arm to cover his eyes he mumbled, “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes it feels good.” His whines and reactions to your hand and tongue only tempting you to mess him up further; but you want to take your time teasing him until he can’t hold it. You start to quicken your pace as you feel Ron getting closer from his expressive voice and face as well as the abundance of precum flowing from him. His hand gripped to your hair hard pushing himself deeper into your mouth just as he came. You felt it slide down your throat as you swallowed, wiping some from the corner of your lip. You continued to run your hand up and down as he was feeling out the final traces of his climax. “If i’m magic you must be mythical,” he huffed catching his breath. You laughed a bit at his joke and crawled up to his chest laying your head on him. 

“I guess I must be.” He stroked the back of your head while planting kisses. Your hand remained on his penis, idly rubbing it through which you felt it regain the stiffness it had just moments ago. You slid back down so that his penis was against your stomach. 

“I thought you were tired. And yet here you are taking charge,” He chuckled while sliding a hand on your waist. 

“You’ve invigorated me.” You practically beam with confidence; giving him a sly look, you sit up on your knees to guide his dick inside. Placing your hands on his chest you began to roll your hips, looking at his pleasure stained face. You leaned over pressing your lips to his. His fingers snaking to your hair and pulling you away from his lips leaving a trail of saliva. You had stopped moving, catching your breath from his sudden aggression. His hips started to entertain you with small thrusts making you moan. Releasing your hair, he sat up keeping you in his lap. Pressing your foreheads together you breathe heavily into him soon after your lips are locked with his once again. The kiss is deep and messy matching his hip movements; you can feel him getting closer. He quickly flips you onto your back, catching you by surprise. You look upon his face, admiring him: his heavy breath, the way he looks at you, it makes you squirm a little. You move your hand to stimulate your clit as Ron drags his tongue against your neck, making you shiver. Both yours and Ron’s bodies were nearing their limit. A warm and powerful sensation began to overtake your body until it suddenly burst and felt like a wave crashing and soon after dissipating back into the ocean. At the same time you could hear and see Ron climaxing with you. You felt him fill you up and then fall next to you both of you catching your breaths. Ron turns his head to face you, pushing your head to face him.

“Your brilliant-” you glare a bit, “-and beautiful” he whispers quickly as he caresses your cheek. You smile leaning into his hand, your whole face a bit red. Bringing yourself closer to him you lay your head on his chest, allowing you to hear his fast beating heart. 

“I think I’ll take tomorrow off.” you chuckle. Looking up you give him a suggestive look, he seems to blush but it's hard to tell as his face is all a pinkish red. 

“Y…yeah maybe you should.” He slides his hand down the back of your hair as he speaks, while trying to avoid eye contact. 

“You're cute.”

“And you're perfect.”

[strawbeerossi]

Daydreaming || 3/3 ||

Part one || Part two

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Aaron Hotchner

Description: Jack and Finn get to celebrate their victory after months of hard work as their parents navigate their new relationship together. What better way to celebrate than the small family having a halloween party with the whole team in attendance.

Content Warnings: Blended family dynamics, the two boys are a dynamic duo, there is some suggestive dialogue, the boys plan a Halloween party and have their parents do everything but still claim it as theirs. Just fluff and a good ending to this mini series.

Word Count: 1.7K

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It’s been long awaited but here it is, the end of Daydreaming!

There were many causes of celebration; Halloween, Y/N and Finn moving in the Hotchner house, and the two being able to meet the team that Aaron was lucky enough to call his family. If he were honest, he felt like the team made a bigger deal of this than he did.

“It’s been nearly a year! It’s not fair for you to gatekeep her from us. She just moved in!” Penelope began, following the unit chief across the bullpen, a small crowd of the other BAU members following behind. 

“I agree with Garcia. It’s about time we met the lucky lady who has the bossman head over heels.” Derek pressed on, making the older male chuckle while heading to his office door. “Well, I’ll consider it. I need to ask her first anyway. Can’t surprise her with the team when she least expects it.” He’d learned early on that Y/N wasn’t fond of surprises – or wearing pants around the house during the day when it was just her. 

“She will appreciate it. Xafniasmaphobia, or the fear of surprises, is actually a lot more common than you may think! It’s fascinating what the human mind is capable of fearing when you-” The smile on Spencer’s face was falling as he had all eyes on him, most looking disinterested. “Sorry.” He smiled awkwardly as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ll arrange something. Now, you all have much better things to do than sit here and ask me questions.” Despite his curt tone, there was the smallest hint of a smile. 

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep his girlfriend a secret in some capacity, he just wasn’t prepared for the chaos of introducing her and her son to the team. That meant things were serious, more serious than the seriousness of the mother and son moving in. 

Later that night, Aaron and Y/N were laying together in their shared bed, his arms wrapped securely around his partner as she was squeezed against his chest. “My team wants to meet you.” His words were soft, lips brushing over the warm flesh of her neck while Y/N was humming tiredly. “Do you want me to meet them?” 

It wasn’t an attitude, instead wanting to make sure Aaron was truly ready for that aspect. She knew that they were more than just colleagues. He loved them, they were his family. She took this just as seriously as she would meeting a parent. “I do, yeah.” The male admitted, his head lifting from the crook of her neck, the woman’s neck craning so they could look at one another. 

“Then I’m more than happy to meet them! Finn is going to be so excited, Jack has been telling him all sorts of stories.” She offered a smile, leaning over to press her lips against her boyfriend’s. “Besides, I gotta get on well with the family, right?” She mused with a smile. 

A wide smile graced Aaron’s features, the man unable to help the soft chuckle leaving his lips. “Fair enough. They are gonna love you, I know that for sure.” 

The couple were originally planning a nice dinner at their shared home, inviting the team as well as their families in order to have a formal greeting. Finn and Jack had other plans though.

“We want to have a party. Dinners are boring.” Jack spoke, his nose wrinkling at the idea of having to get dressed in nice clothes and being made to look his very best just to listen to adults talk. No thank you. “Yeah! We want a party.” Finn pressed on, sitting on his knees in his dining chair while focusing his gaze back down on the coloring page he’d been focused on.

“A party? Jack-” Aaron was cut off by Y/N, who’s eyes glistened with amusement at the idea. “What kind of party boys?” She asked, an eyebrow raising. This was a change for the boys too, even if it was positive, they deserved to at least put in ideas to announce this big change.

“Well, at school we have holiday parties, remember?” Jack began as he was looking up at the two adults across the table before turning to Finn to urge him to continue. They had to have practiced this pitch before they brought it up. “I think we should do that. It’s almost Halloween and I think that’ll be fun. Then we can show everyone that we are a big, happy family.” The blonde finished while offering a wide smile, his arms being held out to emphasize the “big” part. 

“And it is our party so we are gonna make sure it’s perfect.” One child assured while the other was smiling brightly. “We will do a very good job doing this all by ourselves.”

Yeah, that turned out to be a bold-faced lie. 

It was about a week after the initial discussion when the parents of the household being the ones to decorate with the boys ordering them where to put everything, they continued to bark their little orders as the parent’s put the party together. “Good job!” Finn gushed, his gaze looking around the living room area that had quite a bit of decorations from the attic laid out everywhere.

It was definitely in the hands of children when it came to where things were placed and what was put out. Aaron had to drag out a broken Santa decoration and the boys came up with ‘Zombie Santa’ just to add onto the reason the Christmas figure was sitting in the living room. “Spooky!” Finn complimented, both of the children high fiving one another. 

“I wish we just had a simple dinner.” Aaron leaned over to whisper to Y/N, who couldn’t help but giggle. “Oh shush, enjoy them wanting to do something like this. Besides, who could tell those sweet faces no?” She asked. 

Later that evening, the members of the team as well as their families were eventually making their appearance. Spencer and Penelope were probably the most animated ones, due to the holiday being one of their favorites. Besides, they were probably the best with kids despite having none of their own. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” David spoke up, causing Y/N to look over at the older man with a smile while they were in the doorway that separated the kitchen and the living room. “The pleasure is all mine. Dave, I assume?” She spoke, a hand being held out with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, it's hard to mistake you for anyone else. I’m Y/N. The little blonde with orange icing all over his face is Finn.” She giggled fondly.

Aaron had to admit that this was a lot better than he could’ve ever expected. All the children were playing around with some of the safer decorations to play with while the adults were all fully getting to know the woman who fully captivated their boss. Much better than a boring dinner.

“So, how have you and Finn been settling in?” JJ was asking, both Y/N and JJ being acquainted due to her past status of media liaison, both women being in contact for the more local cases when they needed the paper’s cooperation. “Really well, actually! It’s much better than us having to pack little bags for sleepovers.” She laughed.

For a while, it was pretty easy to do that. However, things got more complicated when the two would stay much longer than they packed for. Maybe that was what prompted the move in, them being far too comfortable at the other household rather than their separate apartment.

“It’s been a lot better since they’ve moved in, even if I’ve lost a huge chunk of my closet space.” Aaron laughed as he was approaching the group, his arms wrapping securely around his girlfriend’s waist. “Yeah, we could tell.” Derek spoke up, him and Emily sniggering as they looked at one another. 

“Don’t act like we haven’t seen the sudden good moods, or notice when Hotch is running a few minutes late.” Emily began to tease, causing Y/N’s face to turn red as she was laughing.

“Can you blame me? Honestly? If you only knew what I do.” Y/N laughed as she was leaning against Aaron’s chest, his face in her shoulder as his own face as he couldn’t help but grin. 

The night continued on, Y/N happily talking amongst each member of the close knit team and managing to wiggle her way into their inner circle with each word she spoke. 

It was never hard to be accepted in their circle but this new woman didn’t even have to try. She could take jokes, dish them out, she even liked Spencer’s info-dumping sprees whenever he would hear or see anything he had extensive knowledge on.

It was later in the night whenever the team was all gathering their things to leave, hugging the newly blended family while the adults walked their guests to the door. “This has been really fun. We should do this again.” Aaron spoke, a hand on his girlfriend’s lower back while they were standing on the front porch.

“Y/N you are coming to the next girls night! I’ll come get you myself!” Penelope gushed while offering a wide smile, waving while Derek was opening her car door for her, basically nudging her to go considering her car was blocking his in the driveway. 

“Alright!” Y/N laughed, blowing a kiss to the bubbly blonde before looking up at her boyfriend as the cars began to pull out of the driveway. “I think I need a job at the BAU now.” She poke, making her boyfriend snort out a laugh. “Oh yeah?” He asked, an eyebrow raising.

“Yeah. I know the best way to get the job too. I don’t wanna brag but I’m kinda sleeping with the unit chief.” She said, as if she wasn’t talking to him. “I think that’ll be your best way to get the job. Let him know that I recommended you for the job.” Aaron was joking in return, his lips pressing a soft kiss to hers. 

“Let’s get the kids to bed so you can practice your pitch to join the team.”

[ellatoone7]

Bad dreams (Alessia Russo x Ella Toone x Reader)

Warning: a little bit angsty at the start

You knew something was wrong, Alessia and Ella had been acting different for a while. Originally you thought maybe they were just stressed about the upcoming season.

Millie had moved out a few months ago, finally moving in with Rachel. The first few months of living with your girlfriends were amazing.

You were drowned with affection but that all slowly stopped, eating dinner was torture, with you just trying to fill the silence and ignore the growing pit in your stomach.

So you knew things were wrong when you got home after an audition to find them sitting in the kitchen with their heads down.

“Hey.” You greeted them like you always did, normally you accompany the greeting with a kiss but that hasn’t been happening much lately.

Like the new usual they didn’t respond, you barely talked to them anymore with their busy schedules and you being on set some days.

“It’s melting outside, I was dying in my trailer.” Again nothing, you busied yourself with making three cups of tea before Alessia finally spoke up.

“We need to talk.”

You froze placing your hands on the counter trying to ground yourself as you took a deep breath. You turned to look at them but they were staring straight ahead refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Okay.” You sat down in front of them feeling like a little kid about to be told off, you tried to reassure yourself but how could you when the two girls you love most haven’t even acknowledged your presence in weeks.

Ella was frozen, she hadn’t uttered a word and her hands were clasped tightly in for my of her as she stared down at the floor. Alessia had the decency to glance up at you for two second before regretting it and staring back down.

“We don’t think this is working.” You looked away, you knew it was coming but nothing could have prepared you for the string ache that burst through your heart.

“It’s not you-“ “Don’t you dare give me that bullshit!” Alessia nodded in shame, you laughed in shock, you never thought you’d be in this situation with them but here you are.

“I can’t fucking believe this…” You muttered desperately trying to control your emotions, you weren’t going to let them see you cry, not after this.

“So pWhat? That’s it? Your both fucking unbelievable!” Your mask was slipping and all the frustration you had bottled up the past few months was making its appearance.

“Look at me at least!” They didn’t budge, Ella had been frozen while Alessia gulped slightly still looking down, “[Y/N/N]-“ “Don’t call me that.”

Alessia’s jaw wobbled as she tried to contain her tears, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at you. Ella gently grabbed her best friends hand under the table to give her the support she needed.

“Look, this is a big season for us. United is expecting big things and we just can’t take any chances…” You scoff, eyes shining in unshed tears, “Fucking football. This is about football!”

“Oh my god…I’ve given up my whole fucking career for you!”

“I should’ve have fucking known not to get involved with football players.” A sob slips through as the reality hits you, leaving your home, your family, your friends, your job was for absolutely nothing.

“So this was the plan, huh? Lead me along until the silence gets too awkward for the two of you that you decide to finally put me out of my misery!” Tears are falling freely now as you can’t even try to stop them.

The question that’s been at the top of your tongue since they sat you down finally came out, “Did you ever fucking love me?”

Alessia bites her tongue, willing the tears to stay for a bit longer as she watches the girl she’s loved for years crumble because of her.

All she wants to do is pull you into an embrace and never let you go, take everything back and reassure you over and over that she loves you, that she’ll always love you.

Instead she stays quiet wincing at the tight hand wrapped in hers, tears drip onto the table as Ella goes through the same struggle.

The silence that follows your question will haunt you, realising the two girls that you never want to live without never even loved you will stay with you forever.

“You’re fucking cowards!” The room was suffocating, a house you once loved turning quickly into a nightmare.

You don’t even let them say anything not that they would’ve as you walk out the door, praying on a high god that maybe they’ll snap out of it and chase after you, whispering their apologies as they kiss you over and over.

But as you drive off, leaving basically your whole life behind you wonder what the hell you’ll do. Having no choice you called Leah, asking her could you stay with her for a couple days.

The next week Leah barged into your former home, Ella had barley moved from the couch. Staring at space you were when they ripped your heart out.

Alessia had tended to Ella, she figured if she just kept busy then her mind wouldn’t think of you, except for the fact that every single thing reminds her of you.

Alessia knew someone was bound to come and take all your stuff so she packed it away in boxes, it was the hardest thing she’s ever had to do in her life.

It took her hours to finish and she still hasn’t, sobbing quietly in what used to be your room as her heart ached was routine as she buried her face into your jumper.

She had asked Ella would she want to help but Ella has been a ghost of herself, never talks, barely eats and drinks and never moves from the couch.

Breaking up with you was so they could improve their football but it’s honestly gone the complete opposite way. They both had thought that football was the love of their life, nothing could ever beat it but this ache that never stops from you leaving has put a lot of things into perspective.

They have fucked up majorly and they are paying for it now, Leah doesn’t even look at them as she walks straight to your room grabbing the first box.

Alessia offers to help but the glare she gets is enough to have her staring back at the floor again. Ella doesn’t even move a muscle.

“Leah, please!” Alessia breaks at the silence, begging Leah to scream at them or hit them just so she can feel something other than the crushing guilt and heartbreak she has been feeling.

Leah doesn’t even acknowledge her as she comes in and out making quick work of the boxes, as she shuts the boot she doesn’t even give a second glance as she jumps back into the car.

Leah doesn’t get out the gate though as she slams the door closed, marching up to Alessia before giving her a shove. It’s not hard enough to make her fall but she does stumble back.

“I will never fucking forgive the two of you.” Alessia stares at Leah trying to convey the regret she feels, Leah just scoffs practically shaking from anger she bunches her fists tightly.

Alessia’s sure she’ll hit her but Leah has always been good at controlling herself, “She hasn’t fucking been able to get out of bed!” Alessia had never seen Leah so angry, the tears threatening to fall from the captains eyes as she glares at the blonde girl.

“I would give up my whole life for that girl!” Alessia finally hangs her head in shame as Leah continues to scream at her, “If you did it for football your fucking idiots. It’s really improved your performances, huh? Tooney can’t even get off the fucking couch!”

Alessia looks over her shoulder staring at the girl who’s been stuck there for months, “And you’re in fucking denial, mate!”

Everything that’s come out of Leah’s mouth had been true, Alessia thought she was going to pass out as Leah’s voice muffled, everything did go black but she didn’t think she passed out.

She tries to stand up but an arm around her stops her, “Lessi, stop moving!” Alessia’s heart stopped when she heard your voice, she frantically called your name over and over until you and Ella sat up and turned the light on.

“Whoa! Alessia, babe, calm down.” Alessia was so confused as she glanced between you and Ella, taking in her surroundings she realised where she was, in your shared room.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N] I’m sorry, I love you, I don’t care about football, I care about you! We made a mistake!” You and Ella stared at the girl like she had two heads.

“We!” Ella spoke up but you slapped her arm gently, “Less, what’s wrong?” Alessia just cups your jaw brining her forehead to yours as she sighs in relief.

It was just a nightmare.

“Bad dream.” She mumbles kissing you gently, Ella wraps a reassuring arm around her waist as your concern fades slightly.

“You wanna talk about it, Less?” She quickly nods and tells you and Ella all about Leah and the pure guilt she felt and how worried she was for Ella.

Ella repeatedly kissed both your cheeks in reassurance as Alessia finishes up, “Less…”

You pulling her into you as her shoulders slump, kissing her neck lightly as she breathes you in.

One hand is buried in your hair while the other is wrapped tightly up in your jumper, “I love you.” You glance at Ella who holds your hand tightly.

“I know, Less. I love you too.” As you gently lie back with Alessia’s face buried into your neck you nod at Ella to turn the lights off. Instantly regretting that though as Ella blindly tries to walk back to bed.

After an elbow to the face and five minutes of scolding Ella you finally settled down, Alessia tucked into your neck while Ella held you tightly.

Giving a light kiss behind your ear, “I love you too, ya know.” You giggle at the fake jealous tone in her voice, careful not to wake your other sleeping girlfriend you turn your head slightly to look at Ella.

She kisses your nose softly before finally claiming your lips, after getting your fill of kisses you turn back around, Ella’s arms giving you more comfort than ever.

A/n: These two actually give me life. Thank you so much for all your support it means the world to me!! Hope you’ve enjoyed these so far! Feel free to leave requests or tips! Have a great day!!! ❤️‍🔥

[ronearoundblindly]

The Root of All Ransom (5)

Last part UGH, second to last part (see previous or series). Ransom Drysdale x rich!Reader WC 4k

Summary: A revelation at Harlan's 85th birthday threatens everything Ransom has.

Warnings: canon threats and arguments (altered for story obvi (credit to the original screenwriter for the dialogue I worked around!)), cursing (would you even consider it me or the same story if there wasn't?) oh, and canon Thrombey family racism/bigotry/douchebaggery--little fuckers. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY. There is plenty else for you to read on my Light Masterlist.

The colors are stunning.

Violently splashed swaths of gold, orange, and chocolate laced with summer green coat the landscape. The trees blur past the windows, so the only other color Ransom can focus on is burgundy—your dress, the dress he rustled up after realizing you had nothing planned to wear.

Unacceptable. Ransom fixed that.

For Harlan Thrombey’s birthday it’s only right that you wear Harlan’s favorite color, hardly a revelation when the man’s company is named ‘Blood Like Wine.’ The fact that you look picture perfect decked out in designer, replete with your Birkin in hand (suck it, Linda) is a bonus. His family will shit themselves when they see he’s done it. Ransom Drysdale fucking nailed it.

He dates a millionaire, one that genuinely smiles at him, one that gives great head and fucks like a goddamn sin, one that actually likes him. Ran won the lottery, and he is overjoyed to be a complete dick about it to his family.

You sigh heavily, recovering from the long journey home, tired but seemingly less tired than an hour ago. You recharge next to him. He’s seen it before. You’re usually laying on his chest after he wrings the last of that stressed energy right out of your cunt, but there’s no time for that right now.

“I’ve been advised to sell the penthouse here,” you throw out absently in the silence. You two talk so frequently that there isn’t much to catch up on.

Ran snorts. “But who would buy your shitty furniture?”

You smack at his hand on the gear shift, but that won’t stop him.

“No, I’m serious. It’s fucking warehouse shit.”

That jab gets ignored, as he suspected it might. “At this rate, it’ll be cheaper to simply stay at a hotel downtown instead. I’m hardly here long enough to warrant a house out in the burbs and a penthouse.”

He simply hums in agreement and watches the road.

You could stay at his place, Ran thinks. That’s nonsense when you own a fucking mansion and have a car service on call 24/7, but you could. He’d even allow some of your furniture…and maybe some of your kitchen gadgets…maybe.

“Gosh, I haven’t even seen Harlan since your birthday—“ the swatting hand comes to rest over his again “—through the window, no less.”

“You’ll recognize him. He’s still old and still a shit.”

You giggle and squeeze. Ran flips his palm up to cup yours.

He’s in a mood to gloat. He’s ready to put on a bit of a show, prepared to use oversized PDA to stir the pot, and knows the whole thing will amuse you, too. Ran has readied himself to be more affectionate. He doesn’t normally touch you without reason or potential of escalation. He was even more hesitant to do so after your bitchy peers’ dinner where some asshat took it the wrong way.

His family won’t, however. They’ll take it just as hard as he hopes. Fuck those guys.

His relatives have scoured every article about you this whole time. Ran has been enthusiastically ignoring any and all questions with the sole purpose of twisting that knife deeper. His, not theirs. He’s casual in his dismissal of what it all means. He doesn’t have to think about that. No one believed this would still be a thing, not his family, not you, not him. The shock hasn’t worn off yet, but underneath that buzz is a soothing, peaceful feeling that makes Ransom fucking jumpy. He plays it off as he does any other nervous energy—annoyance.

“Right. How long we considering this a thing now anyway?” He doesn’t say the word relationship. He doesn’t call you his girlfriend. You have never mentioned one word about it either, but he’s curious why that is. Obviously, he won’t simply ask why.

You think for a few moments, propping your arm against the car door to look at him, arm stretching to stay connected to his, eyes sparkling. “Definitely start the clock after you stuck your dick in someone else.” After another split second, you clarify, “ass or vagina, thank you.”

It’s not a surprising answer, but Ran rolls his eyes anyway. Fair. He cannot argue with that. Still, this is the longest thing he’s been involved in.

“So that makes it…what? A month?” you joke.

He’s not sure if that’s a pure jab or if you fish for assurance that you two are…exclusive. Ran can use that word. That one is okay. That one qualifies stuff you own and use. It describes things, not people. This is a thing, an exclusive thing.

He shoots you a hard glare across the seats of the beamer.

“No,” he hits back. “Four and a half.”

From the cheeky wink he gets back, you know damn well how long it’s been. You wanted to hear him say it probably. He wiggles in the seat, further annoyed, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the road.

That color on you, though, is distracting.

He keeps his hand where it is, relaxed and in yours.

Ransom pulls out the chair beside his mother for you to sit in. He didn’t think about how you’d leave your bag by his coat in the foyer. You’re not like Linda in that way; she carried the Birkin at her side everywhere, even in the house. The least he can do is sit the beautiful young woman right next to the white-haired wench and preen at his exclusive upgrade.

You are one-of-a-kind, and you’re his. His gut flutters with that knowledge. He needs a drink.

You look so feminine and regal compared to his mother’s teal, power jumpsuit or whatever half-velvet, half-satin monstrosity she chose.

“Oh, hello, dear,” Linda chirps to you, watching Ransom sit on your other side, “don’t you look lovely.”

His mother twitches her fingers like she needs a cigarette, faking an adjustment of her thick spectacles to hide the tremor, and the whole night is already worth skipping hanky panky before arrival.

You do look lovely. It makes him look good. He’s winning. He needs a victory drink.

When food is set down in front of you all by a catering staff, you immediately offer appreciation and Ran parrots the ‘thank you.’ He doesn’t think much of it. He just takes your cue. Ransom has always known how to be decent; he chooses not to be out of spite…except near you. He likes looking good around you. It makes him feel like he could be good.

Meg, subtle as ever, word vomits “holy shit” in response to Hugh Ransom Drysdale thanking the fucking help. When Ran catches her eye, Meg raises her brows and snaps her wrist like she’s cracking a whip.

He scowls back, but his cousin is too far across the table to curse without upsetting you, so he just mouths ‘get fucked’ at her.

“Well, Dad,” Walt starts too loudly for the table, “in celebration of your big day, I hope you don’t mind me sharing some news about our amazing quarter at the publisher’s.”

Harlan cuts into his meal, wearing his signature, catch-all smirk.

“‘Our,’ my ass,” Linda whispers to you, wine glass raised to cover her lips.

You very, very quietly giggle, and Ran doesn’t fucking like that one bit. Fuck off, Linda. That’s his giggle.

“Hell of a year,” Walt continues, oblivious, “hell of a year, but particularly great because we hit just shy of one point eight million in the last few months.”

“Oh wow,” Joni moans, pressing a bony hand into the ruffles of her blouse, and it is good news. Her eyes may as well morph into dollar signs.

“‘Night of the Dead Phoneline’ was a fun one,” Harlan mutters before another bite.

It is a tidy sum, one that his family would absolutely drool over, one that has taken decades to build to, but also one that Ransom knows pales in comparison to what you handle on a daily basis. 

He knows not to speak of your money, however, not a single word.

Unsurprisingly, his mother hasn’t picked up on your modesty and exuberantly swats her little brother back into place.

“That is nice, Walt,” Linda barely tilts the glass in his direction before turning to you, resting her head on a bejeweled fist and clucking. “Tell me, dear, I read that your home offices are being fully renovated for the first time since you took over the building. Must be costing a pretty penny…”

Your fork and knife halt on the china.

“Uh huh,” you dodge while Ransom stares daggers over your shoulder.

Subtlety is not Linda Drysdale’s forté. “How much?”

You sigh again, resting your silverware to the side while studying the ornate, vaulted ceiling. “The last estimate I got was forty-three but was missing final approval from Tech so…I’m preparing for fifty.”

“Thousand?” Jacob, Walt's son, asks in the fleeting moment he’s not looking down at his phone. Idiot.

“No,” you sigh, “million.”

Linda relishes Walt’s shock while Meg’s eyes bug out. Jacob simply scoffs, back to staring at his screen instantly. Ran’s annoyed—furious actually—that Linda claims your success as her own. Gears turn to plot revenge in your honor.

“And that’s out of how many facilities worldwide now?” Linda hums. “Twenty-two?”

“Enough!” Harlan slaps his hand on the table. “This is my birthday, and I say we have none of this ham-fisted, money talk at the table.”

“So we can talk about it after dinner?” Joni suggests from down the line. She’s ignored save for a grumble of Walt’s beside her.

“Sorry, sir,” you apologize.

“You,” his grandfather coos, “are not the one who started it.”

Harlan’s smile is kind and amused. He knows there’s no real foul that’s been played, but Harlan is intuitive enough to sense what Ransom knows: lording money over others is your last fucking resort, and it is never in public or among a group. There is, however, a slight sadness beyond excusing his children’s behavior that wilts his grandfather’s expression. Ran assumes it’s simple embarrassment. He’s seen you deal with much worse though, so Harlan shouldn’t worry. Since he is most like Harlan himself, Ransom also assumes his grandfather will be over this tiff tartar by dessert.

“Either way, you should all be proud of that figure,” you add softly, aiming that genuine smile at Ran’s uncle. Fucking gross. “Really, Walt. And that’s without any merchandise, too? Very impressive.”

Walt snaps and points at you while jumping right back at Harlan, zero clue when to quit. “You know, Dad, we could be talking about profits more like hers if you’d let me—“

Linda takes the time to lean in and whisper. “I could help you sell the penthouse apartment, you know? Easily.”

And there it is, Linda’s endgame. How the fuck did she find out? She doesn’t even handle corporate real estate, but even a whiff of wanting to move a property of yours is enough to aim her nails directly at your clout.

You tiptoe around an actual answer and manage to shift Linda to talking about her own business. Ransom lays his hand over yours on the table at some point and pets his thumb across your knuckles.

He focuses on that for what feels like seconds but who knows how long it is when he misses the entire lead in to this fucking chestnut.

His Stepford Aunt Donna clears her birdlike throat and says, “you should start now so you can have at least two.”

Your hand jerks to grip his before dropping down to your lap.

What the fuck?

His father’s fork clatters onto the china. “Now hold up there, Donna. Let the kids just enjoy the honeymoon phase—“

Linda pipes in over Richard. “Every one of us had only one child including you.”

“I would have had more—” Joni flips a hand into the air before twirling one of her bohemian curls “—but my husband died.”

“Then it’s not about you, is it?” Walt booms.

Ransom watches you take a very large breath and lean into your chair. “I think I preferred the money talk.”

Donna waves her martini in the air, defensively. “She just seems so busy out in the middle of nowhere while her biological clock—“

“Shut up, bitch. We’re sitting right goddamn here,” Ran snaps.

Walt stands, scraping the chair backward. “That’s my wife you’re talking to!”

Ransom doesn’t give a shit who said it. No one disrespects you like that. “What fucking right does she—“

“Son, please, calm down.” Richard

“Thank god you guys didn’t make this family bigger,” Meg shout-mumbles, stealing her mom’s wine without Joni noticing. She’s too busy describing the ‘bad vibes’ coming from all the masculine energy in the room.

Jacob takes a video on his phone before Meg swats it right out of his hands and into his food. The boy panics.

Ran hears Harlan and you sigh simultaneously.

Then the coup-de-gras. God, it’s like you were made to fuck with his family, and Ran is pleased as fucking punch.

You stand casually, chair silent in its retreat, and hold up a hand. They quiet, mercifully, allowing you to stick one savage fucking knife through the whole lot of them.

“You’re all going to laugh at this quarrel in a year—“ you pass your almost full wine over to Meg conspicuously before both your hands smooth flat down your stomach “—or less.”

The table goes so deadly still Ran could hear a pin drop on the carpet upstairs, and it’s funny because Ransom knows you. He knows you well enough that he doesn’t have even the most fleeting thought that you could be pregnant. You would never, ever choose this way to hint at it. You would keep them far away from your business and your business, but it’s so goddamn genius that he grins like an idiot.

The whole room misinterprets his joy as confirmation.

Owl eyes blink over gaping mouths, but Ran notices Harlan’s knowing smirk. Grandpa is the only one who gets the joke. Perfect.

Harlan snorts from his own seat and winks at you again. That’s good. Harlan deeply approves of you. You’re something Ransom has done right—as well as six ways to Sunday, not including the implied knocking up—and he can use that. Continent hopping is getting costly; he’s going to need his grandfather to raise his allowance.

Ran leans back in his seat, cardigan spreading open as he stretches one arm over the back of your chair and softly drawls, “sweetheart.”

He could not have fucking timed it better.

Harlan’s cake arrives seconds later, topped with eighty-five sizzling sparklers that will probably call the fire department in a matter of minutes, and the rest of the adults at the table scurry to flank the birthday boy. They look like hyenas cornering prey.

Ransom doesn’t join. He stays right there, smiling up at you.

You flop into your seat, so close that soft burgundy fabric drapes over his thigh, and lean in to whisper, “give me your fucking wine.”

He slaps a quick kiss on your cheek before grabbing your prize from the other side of his plate. You two stay huddled, shielded from view by the smoke and greed clouding the head of the table.

Despite a resounding win at dinner, drinks in the sitting room afterward are torturous.

There is no way to get out of conversation with the Thrombeys except through conversation with the Thrombeys. Dinner was actual cake comparatively.

This is a slog. It’s been a slog Ransom’s whole life. Is it bad he derives pleasure sharing this pain with you? That’s bad, right? He shouldn’t enjoy this.

Jacob, a piece of shit, Alt-Right troll of a child who would drop dead if his socks didn’t match—piddly bitch—fucking sniffs you on his way to the settee behind his parents, musing how good it is that you don’t smell after so much time in China.

You know, from the food.

What a fucking shock that’s the little Nazi’s take away…

Joni laments the smog and pollution dulling your skin—which it fucking did not— but she has a mask for that. It’s even specific aligned to your chakra, whatever the fuck that means, and Ransom bites his tongue, watching your deep sigh fogging the inside of the glass you sink deep into instead of respond.

No one says shit concerning your one alcoholic beverage though because the hint of you (and by-proxy, Ransom) immediately dominating the whole clan has set the adults on edge.

Because you would. You already eclipse them in every capacity. The only trump card left to play is raising Ran to your level, which he is climbing to, slowly, at his own pace, by his own rules.

You hit the bottom of that glass—and all your limits, based on the exact level of strain between your lips—when his family debates Marta’s country of origin and the American Dream of legal fucking citizenship. All you say is “excuse me” and walk off.

He stands, too, and not to be a puppy dog following you around. He thinks the conversation is stupid. He wants to leave the room. His glass is empty, and he wants another piece of cake.

You gently take Marta’s arm and guide her with you until you’re tucked on the other side of the wall. Ransom tells Franny to get him cake.

“Is something wrong?” Marta seems alarmed and glances at your stomach. She’s a nurse and doesn’t get the joke.

“Oh, no, hun. I just wanted to save you from the vultures,” you say, smiling.

You like Marta but hell if Ran knows why. He thinks Harlan fakes how much his shoulder still bothers him because the old man’s range of motion isn’t stunted in any way. Though, Ran admits, he’d keep up an easy supply of morphine if he could, too.

Sour-faced Fran returns with a tiny plate and shoves it into Ransom’s hand.

“What? No fork?”

The housekeeper barely opens her mouth before Harlan interrupts with a deep and booming voice.

“A moment, Ran, my boy. I have something to discuss with you.”

On instinct, Ransom turns to meet your eye. You’re happily in conversation with the help but pet a gentle hand down the sleeve of his cardigan. It’s fine. It’s not as if you’re trapped in another money argument with his uncle—Ran would break Walt’s other foot if that fucker tried again anyway—so off to the study he goes.

“Shut the door,” Harlan insists, waiting while the last thing Ran sees is Great Nana staring off into space by the front door. “Have a seat.”

“I’m fine.”

Harlan takes a power pose at his enormous desk and tips white, bushy eyebrows in his grandson’s direction. “You seem happy.”

Ran props his hands on his hips. “Is that a question?”

“Merely an observation. It makes this easier to know you are in a…better situation than a year ago.”

Ransom prepares to explain how his expenses have skyrocketed in the wake of so much travel. He’s coordinated several design houses to work with you in Beijing to ensure you are properly dressed even when he’s not there. That shit ain’t cheap, but it’s worth it. God help him if your assistant tries to put you in another local potato sack.

Yes, Ran sets himself up to ask for more money until this.

“I have written you out of my will. The whole family.”

Ransom blinks. The fuck is the old man playing at?! “You can’t be serious.”

“Not a red dime or word of my work to a single one of them, you included.”

That’s not…

That’s not going to help. That’s not going to work for what Ransom needs. “We’re your family,” he starts, brain swimming in freezing depths yet running eighty miles an hour. His face heats like the surface of the sun, and his lungs are void of oxygen. All extremes exist simultaneously. “You are not this crazy. You would not just throw your fortune away.”

“No. I’m giving it to Marta. All of it.”

Panic creeps into the blurring edges of Ran’s vision, his voice boiling over. “To your Brazilian nurse? Are you goddamn insane.”

He is. He has to be, but the old man just digs farther in.

“I’m sane for the first time in my life,” the patriarch of the soon-to-be-penniless Thrombeys announces with vibrating gusto, “and I’ve done it.”

“I’m going to stop this, Harlan.” What the hell else is Ran supposed to say? He can’t just do this?

”I’ve made the change to my will. It’s done.”

“I’m warning you,” Ransom explodes, charging toward the weighty desk and tempted to chuck the nearest, sharpest nicknack right into the withering hand spread over his papers, determined. He knows that look; it’s the stubborn look Ran himself inherited. Apparently, it is the sum total of his Thrombey inheritance as of this very moment. That, and the urge to shaft his family.

His whole world is ablaze and it started in the tinderbox of a stack of cash. He is fucked. There’s nowhere for Ran to run but damned if he isn’t going to try.

The wail of the door latch as he swings it open echos in his skull, and there you are across the hall, deep in conversation with the little shit about climb over him in the pantheon of your prowess. Fucking Marta.

This cannot get any worse. This cannot happen.

But Ran doesn’t know what to do yet. He only knows he doesn’t want to be fucking here anymore. He can’t think here. He’s seeing red, and it’s not your dress. It’s not beautiful or something he’s proud of. He’s just pissed, and you know it. You see it easily.

Ransom grabs his overcoat and shoves the plate of birthday cake beside it into his Great Nana’s hand, slamming the door hard behind him.

You’re behind him yelling in a flash asking what’s happened but he can’t tell you or it will be real. He has to fix this. He has to do something. But what? What the fuck can he do?

He doesn’t answer until you touch his shoulder and he spins in the gravel, eyes rolling over your coatless form and empty hands.

“Where is your bag?”

“Stop focusing on the fucking bag, Ransom,” you snip back.

“Stop leaving your things behind.” Shit. Back to ‘Ransom.’ It’s already started. This is a nightmare inside a disaster. He will lose everything in a single day if he doesn’t think of something.

Your hand shoots up before snapping to your chest in a death grip.

You almost hit him. You almost slapped him because he scared you. He’s seen that look before, but he’s never caused it.

Instead of lashing out, you hiss, “stop leaving me behind.”

That cuts at him, making him feel weak. Ran hates weakness. He retaliates. The steel of his previous skin—the armor plating he wore proudly before you came along—creeps back over his tight chest.

“You’ll be fine.”

You step forward and reach for his cheek, softly. “Why did you walk out?”

He keeps huffing, floundering for a lie, smothering the truth. That’s just it: it hasn’t started. You don’t know yet. You have no idea that he has nothing and is no one. Maybe you never have to know. Maybe he can salvage this.

He pauses too long.

You yank his coat off of his arm and stomp back toward the house.

“What the fuck,” he calls.

“I’m getting the fucking bag—“ you shake his coat in the air “—but you aren’t fucking driving off without me.” When you hit the porch steps, you swing around to lay down a threat.

“If you leave now, no one will blame me for murdering you. I won’t even bother to make it look like an accident,” and you disappear into Thrombey Manor.

Something…occurs to Ransom at that moment, and wisps of a plan start to cloud his swirling mind.

a/n: I feel so bad that there is no smut in this chapter. I have failed you all. I must go flog myself in the basement as penance. 😭 I'm so nervous that everyone's fave reason isn't even in here, omg, please don't flame me!

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit

[Last Part]

[Main Masterlist]

[kyojurismo]

— DID YOU FORGOT ?

# kyojuro rengoku

synopsis : kyojuro convinces himself that you and the others have forgotten his birthday. is it true though?

tags : gn!reader, tiny bit of angst, fluff, birthday celebration.

a/n : i wanted to post it earlier but things got in the way and i finished writing it too late 😭 but at least i posted something for kyojuro’s birthday, even if it’s 2 days late. it’s shorter than originally planned & probably a bit cringey, but anyway, enjoy <3 + new format guys !!!!

kyojuro never meant to say to everyone when was his birthday. if they asked him, well of course he would reply. you were the one to inform all the other pillars and convinced them to celebrate it. after all, kyojuro was loved and appreciated by all of them.

this had been going on for a couple of years, and he wasn’t annoyed by the others knowing. that’s why he was confused now.

you were going on with your day as usual, you wished him a good day and then left for training. nothing else.

did they forgot?

that’s what he thought. could you really forget his birthday after the exceptional efforts you always put for his special day in the past years? impossible, ... right?

when kyojuro met uzui, he basically did the same. “ah, rengoku! flashy as always, i see. have a good day,” he smiled down at his friend before walking away.

tengen usually put kyojuro in the spotlight on his birthday, but today was different, it was odd.

did i do something to disrespect him?

the same scene repeated itself with mitsuri and shinobu too. they simply greeted him and went on with their chatting, kind of ignoring him at this point.

are they upset with me?

kyojuro spent the whole day training alone, and he found difficult to concentrate completely on the task at hand. now this is very strange. the way you and the others treated him today was unusual, especially for you and mitsuri. birthday or not, you two always expressed freely how happy you were to have kyojuro around. you didn’t even kissed him three times before exiting the house.

you usually kissed him three times every day, five on his birthday. it was some kind of habit before exiting the house.

kyojuro tried to think what happened in the past few days, to see if he actually did something to make you all act that way.

in conclusion, he couldn’t notice anything wrong in what he did or said. was it something that was fine with him, but wrong for the others then? he always tried his best to respect the others and be kind.

maybe i forgot something important…

─────────────────────

“i feel so bad!” mitsuri cried, sitting beside shinobu. “he looked so sad!” obanai simply watched her, somehow jealous for her concern over another male, but then he remembered she was talking about rengoku.

“why are we here.. again?” muichiro glanced at the others, his expression showing that he wasn’t exactly listening to their conversation. “tokito-kun! it’s kyojuro’s birthday, and we’re preparing a surprise party for him,” you explained with a smile, showing that you weren’t annoyed for his forgetfulness. it wasn’t his fault.

“i hope he comes home soon, i’m tired,” sanemi muttered, staring out at the sky. it was getting darker and stars would start to appear soon. “shinazugawa-san, show some respect,” shinobu glanced at him.

you were a bit nervous. hearing them talk actually helped you stay put. you feared kyojuro would be too upset to celebrate, accusing you for being childish or something like that. but kyojuro wasn’t like that, was he?

when you finally heard the door open, you signalled for everyone to stay silent. your heart was beating so fast you feared everyone could hear it clearly. well, tengen certainly could.

“darling! i’m back,” kyojuro announced, his voice less lively than usual. you nervously took a deep breath before replying, “living room!”

after a few moments, you could hear his footsteps getting closer and then he appeared. he just slid the door open when everyone shouted “happy birthday!”, surprising your boyfriend.

“oh… thank you everyone!” he replied, smiling timidly. the tone was the same, but it visibly hid some embarrassment.

mitsuri jumped to her feet and ran to him, hugging him. “i’m so sorry, rengoku-san! i tried my best to ignore you but i feel so bad now!” she confessed, making the others chuckle. “no problem, kanroji-san. i guess it was worth it, yeah?” kyojuro glanced at you, smiling.

once mitsuri let him go, you walked closer and timidly kissed his lips before whispering a little ‘sorry’. he caressed your cheek before glancing more closely to the others. they were all here, to celebrate his birthday. finally, his chest felt lighter and he was relieved.

“i’m glad you are all here!” he flashed them a smile before looking at you once again, his eyes were shining. “thank you, darling,” he kissed your forehead before you felt your cheeks heating up.

ignoring kyojuro for the whole day t was a challenge for you too, but as he said, it was worth it.

reblogs & comments are super appreciated! thank you for taking your time reading it, i hope you enjoyed it. have a good day / night <3

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Part Seven: "Pour Over" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: (Then) Between postpartum blues and her baby's needy coos, Reader's having a hard time adjusting to her new life. But she quickly learns that sometimes you get by with a little help from your friends. — (Now) After dealing with her fussy child all night, the last thing Reader wants is a complicated day at work. Luckily for her, a certain nurse knows just how to make her day a little easier.

Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 1,640

Content Warning: postpartum talk, anxiety talk, mentions of vomit (nothing in detail though), very mild swearing, mild hospital talk, mentions of food, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: yall i am so so so sorry that this took me so long to finish, more on this later but rn all i have to say is the world's biggest apology 😭

Originally Written: 01/06/2024 through 01/23/2024 (i'm so sorry)

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!

[ Then, February of 1988 ]

At this point, you weren't sure how you hadn't died from sleep deprivation.

It had been a whole two weeks since the baby was born, and you were pretty sure you hadn't slept a wink since. One sleepless night had turned into two, and well… now you couldn't remember the last time you had slept.

The clock on the wall told you it was nearing three in the morning, the blackness outside the windows further proving that fact. The baby was once again crying, and no amount of midnight feedings or diaper changes or rocking her in the rocking chair had done the trick. You were warned about colic, but nothing could've prepared you for what it would be like in real time.

Another new nightly ritual was a tired Joyce stumbling into your bedroom, eyes heavy and feet shuffling. You knew exactly what she had in mind, but your Byers genes were far too stubborn to accept her offer.

“Mom, we're fine,” you insisted from your spot in the rocking chair. But even you knew that to the naked eye, you surely didn't look fine. Unwashed hair, blanket tossed messily over your lap, purple spots nearly black underneath your eyes.

Joyce just sighed from her spot in the doorway. “Honey, you are clearly not fine. Don't take this the wrong way but you're a mess.” The comment almost hurt you, though you supposed you appreciated your mother's honesty.

“I'll be okay,” you insisted. “It's not my first sleepless night.”

She moved to sit on the edge of your bed, across from the newly placed rocking chair and crib. “That's the problem, honey. You need sleep. You can't properly be there for her if you-”

“I can't leave her.”

“Don't get enough sleep and-”

“Mom, I can't-”

“You need to eat something too, honey. I mean, when was the last time you-”

“Mom!” you raised your voice this time, effectively cutting her off. “I cannot leave this baby.”

Joyce let out a long sigh, running a hand through her already messy hair. “If you don't take proper care of yourself, exhaustion is gonna hit you like a freight train. Then what?”

You supposed she might be right. But still, her comments couldn't make you see past your postpartum anxiety, worst case scenarios running rampant through your mind.

“What if something happens to her while I'm asleep?” you asked, voice weak. “Or what if she thinks I left her, just like…” you couldn't finish the statement before tears began to prick your eyes.

“Y/N, you know that me and Will would never let anything happen to this baby.” You could tell by her tone that she was being genuine, though both of you knew her words were useless when it came to your anxiety. “We love both of you. We would never let anything happen to her.”

Tears pricked your eyes as your panicked thoughts ran rampant. “What about Dad?”

She nearly fell off the bed after hearing your question. “Dad? What does Lonnie have to do with-”

“I keep having this weird feeling in my gut that Dad is gonna try something with her,” you explained, tears fully soaking your cheeks now. “Like he's going to try and take her from me.”

“I would never let that happen.” Joyce's words weren't a suggestion. She said them with such finality that you were tempted to believe her. “Lonnie walked out of here seven years ago. He hasn't gotten in here yet and I will make damn sure he doesn't get in now.”

Your heart was racing a million beats a minute. You weren't really sure why—other than postpartum anxiety—that Lonnie had been on your mind. But just the thought of him sent shivers up your spine and tears down your face.

Clinging harder to the bundle in your arms, careful not to hurt her but still holding her closer, you rocked gently in the chair in hopes of calming both yourself and the baby. Her cries had yet to subside, if anything they'd just grown louder.

“Mom, I'm so scared,” you finally broke. Even you could hear the weakness, the brokenness, the defeat in your voice. “What if I'm doing this all wrong?”

Joyce stood again, with that same finality as her words from earlier. “I'm not here to tell you how to raise your baby. You're the mother now and you know what's best for you and her,” she started, the words stern but gentle. “But I am here to give you advice as a mother myself. Babies can sense things. Maybe she's upset because you're upset.”

And with that, Joyce was stepping toward the door, reaching for knob, and then-

“Okay.” The word came out as defeated as you felt. “I'll let you have her just long enough for me to shower and eat something.”

She turned to face you with a small smile, not one of smugness or one of someone proving a point, but one that showed you that she was simply just glad to help you out. She left a soft kiss on your forehead as she took the baby from your arms, quickly taking your place in the rocking chair as you headed over to your dresser.

“Mom?”

Her smile went a little sideways as she looked up from the baby to you. “Yeah?”

“I love you. Don't ever forget that, okay?”

With a small nod, Joyce replied, “I won't. Don't you forget that I ditto.” A phrase that had been around since you were little. You weren't sure who started it, but in this moment you were thankful for it, five letters meaning the absolute world to you.

You walked over, leaving a peck to the prickly hairs you'd been seeing so much of these days, warmth filling the entire expanse of your body. “I love you, bub.”

“I'm sure she dittos you too, honey.”

[ Now, January of 1992 ]

A loud yawn sounded from the other side of the counter, breaking you from your own mess of sleepy thoughts. “Me too,” you chuckled as you looked up, a yawn slipping between your own lips. Dark hair and round glasses met you, purple spots thick underneath his eyes. “You look about as tired as I feel.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn't have known it if you hadn't mentioned it,” he said. A crease formed between your brows as you wondered what he meant. “You look as nice as you always do.”

He set a new record for how quickly he'd ever made butterflies go off inside you. “Careful, Doc, or I'll think you're flirting with me,” you said through the crimson blush that had started to appear on your cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said sarcastically, “Must be the sleep deprivation from the double I just pulled.”

You cringed at his words, knowing all too well what that felt like. “I know the feeling. I might as well have pulled my own double after staying up all night with my dau-”

The word got caught in your throat as you realized what you were about to say. “Dog,” you covered quickly, hoping your lie flew over Steve's head.

On the outside, you were hoping to appear calm and cool. On the inside, you were face palming. You'd been sleep deprived many times before, considering you once had a baby on your hands who had colic from the day she was born. Not to mention being a mother made you miss sleep in many ways of its own. But you couldn't recall a time where you'd been so sleep deprived that you almost spilled your biggest secret to a practical stranger, much less a practical stranger who you were actively avoiding telling the secret to.

“I didn't know you had a dog,” Steve said with furrowed brows, his voice bringing you back to reality.

Even though you hated to lie to him, you were thankful that your job had given you the ability to think fast. “Yeah, she must've eaten something she wasn't supposed to. She was up all night throwing up.” The real story was that Mandy had snuck into the kitchen to eat the rest of her leftover Christmas candy after you told her not to, but Steve didn't have to know that.

“Plain rice helps.”

His reaction caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“Plain rice can help a dog's upset stomach,” he explained. “If it keeps happening though, you should definitely take her to a vet.”

Steve's suggestion was oddly sweet, and honestly tugged at your heartstrings a little bit. “Thank you for the tip. Out of curiosity though, how do you know about caring for a sick dog?”

His broad shoulders shrugged, and you tried not to drool at the sight of them. “I almost went to vet school. Boy, would that have made my dad mad. Not that med school has made him any less angry.” As if realizing he was rambling, an awkward chuckle slipped between his lips and he turned his attention to the menu. “You didn't ask. Anyway, what do you recommend?”

“Nice try,” you answered, rolling your eyes. “But for you, I recommend going home and getting some sleep.”

Steve chuckled, and the sound went straight to your belly. “Hey, you don't have to tell me twice. I just pulled a double and I have to be back on campus for classes in about five hours.”

Part of you wanted to tell him to just take the night off and get some rest. Another part of you wanted to drive him home yourself and tuck him in. “I do not envy you,” you giggled. “To answer your original question though, how does a strawberry smoothie sound?”

He met you with a closed-lip smile, one that had started to feel so comforting and oh so familiar these days. “That sounds perfect.”

So this is about a month late...

I want to apologize for being gone with no announcement or explanation. Lots of things have happened in the past couple weeks that have taken a severe toll on my mental health and I just haven't really had the time to write, much less the energy.

I am feeling a little better and I have talked to my boss about my hours so I'm hoping that'll help somewhat. I really miss giving you guys content and I miss interacting with you guys.

Anyway, I hope you're all doing well! ❤️

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @corrodedseraphine @manuosorioh @esoltis280 @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic

[bitchin-beskar]

Interrupted

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: College!Athlete!Roommate!Paz Vizsla x Fem!Reader (Bunny)

Warnings: Whoo boy there’s a few. SMUT. I feel like I shouldn’t have to say that, but this is basically ALL smut. Free use agreement, and talk relating to that. [BC THIS IS FREE USE, EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS BETWEEN PAZ AND READER IS CONSENSUAL. THERE IS NO NON-CON HERE]. Choking, biting, dirty talk, fingering, some rather rough fucking, creampie, slight dumbification (affectionate) (ex: being fucked stupid), mostly clothed sex, reader is called “good girl”, praise kink, aftercare, post-sex cuddles. Mixture of fluff and smut, but some parts of this got kinda yearning/angsty, so I do apologize. Semi-bittersweet/yearning ending. Idk if I got it all, but that’s the gist.

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: So this started as a tiny idea that grew and grew and grew until it proceeded to consume my every waking thought for the past week. (This is all thanks to @maybege, @tailorvizsla, @catsnkooks, and literally anyone else who reblogged/voted/sent in ideas or thots. This is all their fault.)

Mainly, this is a modern day AU in which Paz is a college athlete and your best friend/roommate who you enter into a free use agreement with. (FUN SIDE NOTE: IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT FREE USE MEANS YOU’RE TOO YOUNG TO BE READING THIS. GO AWAY.) 

This was originally intended to be a oneshot. I am now currently plotting a series, so this idea will not be going away any time soon. Please feel free to come yell at me in my dm’s or inbox about this! I welcome the thots! 

I hope you enjoy! Please lemme know what you think, I’d really appreciate it!

Paz had to fight back a groan at the sight of you, standing there in the kitchen as you worked on finishing the dishes from making dinner that night. You’d prepared some kind of casserole, which was currently baking in the oven, and you stood at the sink with the water running as you washed the pots you’d used to prepare the ingredients.

The whole apartment smelt incredible, but that wasn’t the only thing making Paz’s mouth water. You were dressed in what had to be one of his old training shirts, considering how it hung on your frame. The neckline was slipping off one shoulder, the sleeves came almost to your elbows, and the hem of the shirt brushed against your thighs, hiding the swell of your ass. He couldn’t tell if you were wearing shorts underneath the shirt or not.

Fuck, he hoped you weren’t.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, but that was about to change. He didn’t bother waiting for you to finish, he didn’t have the patience for that. He’d dropped his hockey bag and gear in the foyer and toed off his shoes and socks, so it was on bare feet that he padded silently across the tile floor of the kitchen to press the length of his body against your back, his large hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you back against him.

You started violently, dropping the pan you’d been washing back into the soapy water with a shriek, and he couldn’t help but lean down to bury his chuckle into the curve of your neck. Your hands reached out to shut off the water and you hmph’d loudly, even as you sank back into his embrace.

“Gods, Paz, you couldn’t give me some warning?” You bemoaned, your tone one of tired exasperation, likely from the fact that this was an argument you had almost every day–sometimes even multiple times a day. “Bells. I’m gonna put bells on you, I swear.” 

Paz smirked, baring his teeth, and nipping playfully at the sensitive skin on your neck as his hands began to roam, enjoying the way you squirmed in his grasp. It was damn near impossible for you to stay mad at him, and he took advantage all the time, like the asshole he was. 

“Where’s the fun in that, bunny?”

You sighed in a way that told Paz you were rolling your eyes, although your sigh kicked up in pitch as one of his hands snuck under the fabric of his shirt to cup your tits, revealing that you were indeed not wearing shorts. His other hand splayed across your belly, palm huge and warm as he pressed your hips roughly back against his. He watched over your shoulder as your soapy, wet fingers curled around the edges of the sink, clearly trying to ground yourself in some way.

His fingers began to pinch at your nipples, switching back and forth so neither was left unattended, the soft breathy sounds escaping you were like a symphony to his ears. You always vocalized so beautifully when he played with the sensitive parts of your body. It had almost become a game to him, to see how many different sounds he could wring from you in one go.

“Paz–” you said, warning clear in your voice, even as he rolled your nipple between two huge fingers. “Paz, we don’t have time–” your voice cut off with a squeak as he nipped harshly at your neck in remonstration.

“What’s the rule, bunny?”

Paz’s voice was a deep rumble in his chest, and you felt it vibrate through your body as well, and you closed your eyes, perhaps in an attempt to block him out. But you and he both knew just how impossible that was. All you could sense was Paz.

And he knew it. Bastard. 

“C’mon, bunny rabbit. What’s our rule? I know you know what it is.”

The hand on your belly had begun to creep downwards, and his fingers were now toying with the elastic on the waistband of your panties. He was absolutely right, as usual. You knew damn well what the rule was, as it was something the two of you had agreed on shortly after beginning your stint as roommates. The whole situation was convoluted as hell, but in the end, it had come down to you not having a way to pay rent in a traditional manner, and Paz’s joking offer had turned to something more serious.

“Paz,” you whined, not sure what exactly you were asking him for. You knew you should be asking him to stop teasing you when dinner was about to be ready, but your body wanted what Paz was promising.

Paz’s hand finally stopped torturing your breast, only to pull out completely from under the shirt and come up to wrap around your throat, his hand so large his fingers easily reached the sides of your neck. He forced your head back, his grip tightening just enough to restrict airflow, but not enough to hurt you, only to prevent you from taking in a full breath. It made your legs go weak. He pressed his lips against your ear, whispering his next words.

“The rule, bunny. Now.”

Your own hands came up to grasp his wrist and forearm, although you made no moves to remove his hand from around your throat. It took you multiple tries to get the words out, but eventually you managed.

“Th-That I let you do whatever you want, when-whenever you want.”

You could feel his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your ear as his fingers tightened just a little bit more and his other hand finally crept past the fabric of your panties to cup your pussy, his middle finger easily slipping between your folds.

 “Good girl.”

You keen loudly as he strokes through your folds, the rough calluses on his hands providing a delicious friction. You were gasping for air as he held you, even as you did your best to try and grind down on his hand between your legs. He kept his tight grip on your neck until you started to see black spots at the edges of your vision, when he abruptly let go. Then, two things happened simultaneously.

First, you sucked in a deep breath, the feeling of your lungs filling with air after being restricted to only shallow breaths euphoric and almost orgasmic in of itself.

Second, you realized his grip on your neck had also been partially holding you up, and without that safety net, you slumped against him, which only pressed your cunt harder against his fingers, sending sparks of sensation shooting up your spine and causing you to cry out in shock and arousal.

Paz lazily slid two of his fingers into your cunt, slowly pumping them in and out as he ground the heel of his hand against your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and your hands flew to the counter to scrabble for something to ground you, fingers tightening almost painfully on the edges of the sink basin once more. It never mattered how much the two of you did this, it always felt like the first time.

“Are you gonna keep being a good girl for me, bunny? Gonna let me fuck this pretty ‘lil pussy?”

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, worrying the flesh as you tried to hold back a moan. Paz had discovered how much you loved dirty talk–specifically his dirty talk, and who could blame you, the man had a voice made of sin–and you hadn’t had a moment’s peace since.

Paz nipped at your ear, mostly to bring your focus back to him. “What happened, bunny? Aren’t there any words inside that pretty head of yours? Or am I just being too distracting?” As his voice dropped lower, Paz cupped your tits again, this time over his shirt which added an extra level of friction as he tugged at your nipples. The air whooshed out of your lungs, and you gasped desperately for more as you tried to form a reply that wasn’t just begging him to get on with it and fuck you already.

“Hmm, I guess I don’t really need your permission, do I?” His hand withdrew from your panties, making you let out an involuntary whimper at the loss, your pussy clenching around nothing. You hated the feeling of emptiness now, especially when you knew what it felt like to have him inside you. “After all, you’ll let me do whatever I want, whenever I want. Isn’t that right, bunny?”

Gods, you really should answer him, but you couldn’t seem to make your mouth work. Luckily, Paz wasn’t waiting for an answer, or permission. He stepped back a half step, just enough for him to have enough room to pull his cock free from his pants. He didn’t bother undressing either of you, clearly not patient enough to wait. He simply yanked the fabric of the shirt you were wearing up over your ass and jerked your panties part way down your thighs. With one hand on his cock, he placed the other in the center of your back and bent you over the kitchen sink, groaning as he watched you subconsciously present for him, spreading your legs slightly.

You gasp softly as you feel the head of his cock nudge gently against your slit, swallowing harshly as you feel Paz just stroke your folds with his cock, coating the head in the slick wetness that had begun to pool there. He teased you by slowly beginning to press against your opening, only to back away at the last second.

It felt so good, but it also wasn’t enough. You knew it, and he knew it. Finally, he notched the head of his cock at your entrance, and with just a little bit of pressure, the head of his cock popped in your cunt, and he began to sink into the waiting warmth.

Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out as he began to stretch you with his dick. Paz wasn’t a small man by any estimation, a fact which applied to all of him, as you’d learned when you started this little agreement. No matter how much he used your body, how much he fucked you, it was still a stretch to take him every time. You were always so tight around him, something he loved to praise you for.

“Shit, bunny.” You shuddered at the wrecked sound of his voice. “Shit, shit, shit, you always take me so fucking good.” His hand left the small of your back to grasp at your hip, helping to rock you back so he could sink further into you. His fingers spread wide over your hips and gripped tight, easily controlling the pace as he forced you to take inch after inch. You could feel your legs beginning shake and you were suddenly grateful for the extra support of the kitchen sink, because without it you’d surely be collapsing into a puddle on the tile floor.

After what felt like forever, you finally felt Paz’s hips press flush against your ass as he bottomed out inside your cunt. He held himself still for a moment, his thumb idly brushing against your side as you once more adjusted to the feeling of being stretched and filled. You’d never tell him, but a part of you always ached whenever he wasn’t stuffed as deep inside you as he could get. He’d only tease you, and you’d much rather he spent the time fucking you, especially since you knew one day, you’d have to let this agreement go.

Just as you were becoming adjusted to the sensation of being filled to the brim, and your fingers were starting to uncurl from their death grip on the sink, Paz decided that was the perfect time to move. He pulled his hips back, not enough to leave the warmth of your pussy, but enough that when he thrust back in, his hips slammed against your ass, pushing you up on your tiptoes as he shoved you further into the counter with the force of his thrust. The action punched a choked gasp out of your throat, which only seemed to spur him on as he began to fuck you in earnest.

He never pulled all the way out, preferring to only withdraw part way before burying himself back in your cunt, and the effect of the short, sharp thrusts was devastating. It felt like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs, every new breath punched out of you by the force of his hips colliding with your ass. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the kitchen, and you felt tears begin to well up in the corner of your eyes as he fucked you like he’d never get the chance again.

He felt so big from this angle, impossibly so. It felt like he was in your throat he filled you so good. It made sense that his favorite position was bending you over random pieces of furniture or planting you on your hands and knees on the bed.

“That’s it,” he grunted, his voice deep and gruff and sending shivers down your spine. “Just take it, bunny. Take it.” You wanted to respond, whether with some smartass comment or a plea for more you weren’t sure since your brain had begun to melt, but you didn’t have enough air in your lungs to form anything other than whimpers and moans.

Those whimpers and moans just about turned to screams when Paz seemingly decided that the leverage he already had wasn’t quite enough, and released your hip with one of his hands, only to reach out and grasp your shoulder, using his new grip on your body to pull you back even harder onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. With this new leverage and the slight change in angle, he began to pummel upon that spot deep inside you that made you see stars, and your eyes began to roll back in your head.

Suddenly, a loud beeping filled the kitchen, and it took you longer than it should to realize the timer was finished on the oven, and that it was time to take the casserole out. It took even longer for your tongue to try and form the words to tell him.

“P-P-Paz,” you stuttered, voice breaking in time with his thrusts. “T-T-The f-f-food!”

His dark chuckle seemed to fill the room, and he somehow, impossibly, picked up the pace, punching little “uh, uh, uh’s” out of your throat with rough thrusts. You were honestly worried about the kitchen sink breaking underneath your grasp.

“I don’t think so, bunny. I’m not finished yet, and neither are you for that matter.” You let out a weak little moan at his words, not quite processing exactly what he was saying, but knowing somehow that he was going to explain it anyways. “Tell you what. If you can tell me the name of the dish you made, I’ll stop and let you take it out of the oven. What do you think bunny? Does that sound fair?” His voice had taken on a kind of condescending tone, and had you had your wits about you, you probably would’ve smacked him for it. As it was, you could barely register the tone, much less the words.

“Well? Do you have an answer, bunny?”

 He suddenly stopped thrusting, letting go of your shoulder in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you upright so that your back was pressed tight against his chest. His nose brushed against the side of your head as he whispered in your ear.

“What’s the name, bunny? Just gotta answer me, that’s all you’ve gotta do.”

Fuck, you had no idea what he was asking you. While he’d stopped thrusting, he was instead choosing to grind his hips into yours, ensuring that you felt every ridge and vein of his cock brushing up against your walls, making your muscles clench and your thighs tremble. There was only one name that was in your mind and making its way past your lips with the state you were in.

“P-Paz?” You muttered, voice quiet and more than a little dazed. He smiled, you could feel it against your neck where he’d begun to place kisses, but it wasn’t a cocky smile like you’d seen him give to fangirls on campus or the news reporters who came to comment on his games and interview the players. No, this was his smile that was just for you, the smile that you saw when he stumbled out of bed in the mornings sore from practice the previous day to see that you’d made him breakfast, or when he came home in a snit, and you didn’t do anything except open your arms to offer a hug. It made a fire burn low in your belly, made you feel as though you’d done something right, something to be proud of, that maybe you were worthy of love and praise.

“That’s it, bunny. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” As he began to thrust again, although at a more sedate pace than before, his free hand left your hip to creep down to your pussy, feeling the way you stretched obscenely around him, his fingers brushing along your sensitive folds, before playing with your swollen clit. “That’s my good girl.”

You preened at his words, and you finally let go of the sink with one hand, to reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair as he continued to lavish kisses on your neck. You desperately wanted to pull his lips to yours, to remind yourself of what he tasted like, but the small part of your brain that wasn’t hazy with pleasure cruelly reminded you that kisses weren’t part of the agreement. Paz was free to do whatever he liked to your body, but kissing wasn’t on the table. It had been your choice, your decision, to try and prevent your heart from fracturing more than it already had. Of course, it probably didn’t matter in the end. You were already in far too deep. You could only hope that when he inevitably found out, he’d throw you a life raft instead of leaving you to drown.

Your attention was quickly brought back to the here and the now as Paz began to circle your clit roughly with his fingers, his hips snapping against yours a little more urgently than before. You realized with a start just how close you were, the way your muscles were beginning to tense up, the way your belly began to tighten, and your thighs began to shake even harder. Paz was clearly close too if his accelerated breathing was any indicator. 

“Are you gonna let me come in this pretty ‘lil pussy, bunny?” He breathed in your ear, the cockiness in his voice just barely covering up the begging in his words. “Gonna let me fill you up like a good girl? Like you deserve?”

Oh, that sounded so good. It was something you and Paz had talked rather seriously about at the start of all this. He’d never made it a secret that he didn’t really enjoy condoms, but he also said they were non-negotiable in all of his relationships, until this whole agreement with you. He’d said it was a mix of trying to prevent pregnancy and avoid STDs, but when the two of you had actually sat down to discuss what all your little roommate agreement would entail, and you’d offered to go on birth control so he could forgo the condoms, he’d been struck dumb for a good minute. You both had gotten tested and had decided to regularly get tested even though you weren’t planning on sleeping with other people at the moment, and the new implant on the market boasted a 100% pregnancy prevention rate since its debut a few years earlier. So, condoms had been nonexistent during your agreement, which had led to the discovery of Paz’s… fixation.

He loved coming inside you. You were pretty sure it was his favorite part of the whole agreement. You knew he wanted kids one day, and you figured the idea of him coming inside you fed into that desire of his. It wasn’t hurting anything, so you’d never discouraged it. In fact, you also enjoyed it a surprising amount, far more than you’d ever expected. With your ex, Parjai, the idea of him fucking you without a condom had always made you squirm, but never with Paz.

You weren’t examining why that was too closely. Nope. Not at all.

A particularly harsh snap of Paz’s hips brought you out of your head and back into the moment. You realized he was waiting for you to answer him, and you nodded your head, not trusting your voice not to break if you tried to answer him verbally.

Paz moaned deeply at your answer, his thrusts picking up the pace as he worked your clit, attempting to get you to come before he did. “Gods, my bunny ‘s so good to me,” he slurred, sounding suspiciously punch-drunk. “Gonna let me fill ‘er up, gonna let me come inside. Gonna lemme fill ‘er so full everyone knows she’s mine.”

You weren’t sure if it was just good timing, or if his words actually pushed you over the edge, but as he growled the word ‘mine,’ the coil snapped and your whole body stiffened up as you came, and you came hard.

Clenching uncontrollably on his cock, you began to tremble even harder in his hold, your legs practically useless. You surely would’ve collapsed if not for Paz. Luckily, his arm was a band of beskar around your waist, and he kept you pressed tight against him as your whole body shook with your orgasm. You figure it was the sensation of your release that triggered his own, and with an almighty growl, he came too, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm as he fulfilled his promise and filled you up.

Every rough, unsteady, uneven jerk of his hips pushed you closer and closer to overstimulation. You were often closer to being overstimulated rather than under-stimulated with the frequency that Paz indulged in your body, and sessions like this only made it worse. Paz seemed to love how shaky you got when you were overstimulated, how much your legs trembled, how broken your breathing sounded. There was a reason he’d made sure you picked a safe word, because when he got in the mood, he wouldn’t stop for anything short of the world being set on fire.

Finally, he stilled inside of you, his fingers stopping their torturous assault on your abused clit. You sagged against him, eyes shut as you felt your heart rate begin to slow and your breathing even out. Paz simply held you tighter, his arms wrapping more securely around your stomach and pulling you back against his chest. He always became a cuddle-bug after sex, something you’d secretly been thrilled to discover.

The sound of your name falling from his lips drew you out of the haze you’d settled into, and you hummed softly to signal that you were now paying attention or attempting to at least.

“Thank you, bunny,” Paz said, his voice soft and low, a true sign of how relaxed he was. “I really needed that today.”

You made a face, your nose scrunching up slightly as your brain sluggishly thought over his words. “Y’don’ need t’ th’nk me, Paz,” you slurred, your tongue feeling far too heavy in your mouth. “‘m here, y’know. F’r you.”

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly self-deprecating. He could get maudlin sometimes, after your little sessions. It seemed like today was one of those times, and had you been more coherent, you would’ve pressed. But you weren’t, so you didn’t.

When he spoke, the traces of self-deprecation were gone, and back in place was the cocksure attitude you’d grown used to from your best friend-turned-roommate/fuckbuddy.

“Did I fuck all the thoughts outta your pretty head, bunny rabbit?” You frowned, or tried to, at least. “Awe, that’s ok,” he crooned. “Just lemme take care of you, now. You take such good care of me, it’s only fair I return the favor.”

He slowly pulled away, managing to keep you upright while he rearranged his and your clothes in an effort to look like he hadn’t just fucked you stupid. Just as you were beginning to sway dangerously, your legs feeling far too much like Jell-O, he picked you up bridal style, and began to carry you out to the couch.

You should’ve been content to just stay cradled in his arms, but something was nagging at you, something important, if only your brain was capable of forming coherent thought. Like usual, however, Paz seemed to know your mind better than you knew it yourself. He placed you gently on the couch, pressing his lips briefly to your forehead before pulling back. Your eyes slowly opened, and you whined quietly at the loss of his heat. He only smiled down at you.

“It’s alright, lemme just go and take the food outta the oven, bunny. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Ah.

Right.

The food. 

You’d honestly forgotten. 

You felt like you should be mad at him for distracting you, and likely burning dinner, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to express anything other than exhausted satisfaction. You sank down into the couch cushions, eyes falling shut again as Paz left to go take care of the food. Your body ached pleasantly, and you honestly could’ve fallen asleep then and there if it weren’t for the promise of Paz coming back to cuddle with you.

It felt like no time at all–although your current perception of the passage of time was unreliable at best–that you felt your body being carefully lifted again as the warm, muscled form of your best friend slid onto the couch behind you. He was always so gentle, unbearably so sometimes, and this was no exception. He settled into a reclined position, with you lying mostly on top of him, your face able to easily nestle into the crook of his neck. He slung an arm across your waist to better hold you, and the last bits of tension drained from both of your bodies near simultaneously.

Now that you were fully settled, you felt yourself beginning to drift off to sleep. As you teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, you whispered quietly into heated skin.

“Love you, Paz.”

As the blanket of sleep fully settled over you, you missed his equally soft, and strangely melancholic response. 

“I know, bunny. Love you too.”

[sweetmage]

I was talking to my friend about DAI's treatment of Anders the other day and how it drives me INSANE. This game is SO cruel and uncharitable to him! Firstly, the only time we EVER see his manifesto in canon (as far as I know) is in the house of a crazed murderer with a pile of bodies in his basement. Every single mention is placing the blame firmly on his shoulders. I know some people subscribe to the "Varric is distancing himself from their actions for his/their safety" which I subscribe to as well simply for my own sanity, but it does sometimes become hard to swallow when it's been revealed that (assuming you romanced him) he knew where Hawke and Anders were the entire time yet he continues to let others trash Anders while he chimes, etc. And I DO understand and sympathize with Varric in a way, Kirkwall was his home and when the war broke out there was mass death and destruction and he had to leave. Anders did play a role in that, but he only sped up the process, he was not the root cause and they were heading that direction anyway. Also, he saw Meritdith's red lyrium nonsense firsthand, he saw the cruelty that preceded it, and everything she did aligned with what Anders was so concerned about. The Thedas-wide fighting is not "blondie's mess". I originally had my imported Hawke set to "supported Anders" but I had to change it to "didn't support Anders" in my next playthrough because the supportive Hawke straight up calls him a "monster" so I found the alternative to somehow be the lesser of two evils. In the end, I guess that's more accurate to my Hawke anyway because he was upset that Anders went behind his back and didn't tell him first, he would have liked the time to prepare for the aftermath and all that. But yeah, the "I don't know if there ever was an Anders" from a conflicted but still loyal Hawke is easier for me to roll my eyes and ignore than "he wasn't a hero or a monster, maybe he was both" from a supportive Hawke. But ugh, I digress... As for the other main characters, I do understand that none of them knew Anders personally, they only know him from the big action he took with the chantry and nothing more. So I think it makes sense that they don't necessarily have a favorable view of him, some of them seem rather confused if anything. Not to mention a lot of them did not personally endure the circumstances that led Anders to do what he did. But I really would have loved for there to be more NPCs that supported him, especially when DA2 introduced "The Resolutionists" who seem to align pretty damn well with Anders.

And we got a character that supported Loghain which is a 10+ year old topic but not a single one that supported Anders who seems to be a hot-button issue atm? At the very least, I wish there were at least some people that questioned the whole "Anders did this, this is all his fault" narrative (especially once DAI itself revealed that the war did not, in fact, start because of Anders) or at least SOME differing opinions on him?? As far as I can tell, the only person who has been remotely charitable to him is Solas in this conversation (the thing my friend sent me that got me talking about it):

And the only other mention I could find of people that may have supported him is in the Annexing Kirkwall wartable mission where Sebastian mentions "Anders's associates" who he believes might know where he is. But then again, this is coming from the man who wants to march on a city of innocents for to find a man who probably isn't even there so should be taken with a huge grain of salt.

FWIW I now play with the mod that makes Aiding Kirkwall trigger every time because it better aligns with my HCs for Seb and I will never in my life kill Anders so... I actually like Sebastian even though I don't agree with him most of the time. I get his immediate hurt and betrayal at the end of DA2 because he effectively lost his family again, but I'd like to after 3 whole years of being prince he'd have cooled down enough to uhhh... not march on a bunch of innocents??? Which seems very antithetical to his character and development in DA2?? Annexing Kirkwall is silly, so I do not see it. But I digress, this is an Anders post!!

Anyway, I know I am not saying anything that hasn't been said to death by this point. I love each and every DA companion in their own way, regardless of whether or not I agree with them. But I feel like this is less an issue with them and more an issue with how the writers chose to frame the narrative. I do have to wonder if the fact that so many people hated and were averse to Anders made them think that this is what the people wanted. I have quite a few issues with Anders's writing and handling in DA2 as well, don't get me wrong, but at the very least I enjoyed the ability to support him all the way through.