#I won’t be able to get to any of them soon as I’d want to do them digitally

[daily-isabeau]

Here’s my semi annual “hey did you know my inbox is open!”

[morganski-19]

part 1

The next day, there’s someone new to visit Steve. Making Wayne stop in his tracks on his third coffee run. The rumors were true, the Chief isn’t as dead as he was a year ago. Just lost what looks to be half his body weight and all of his hair. Looking gaunt and malnourished. 

But he’s alive. That has to count for something.

Wayne wishes the Chief was there to see him. Give him the key to unlock the chain around Eddie’s wrist. So he’d be able to wake up to a clean slate. That his record will be clear and he won’t get carted off to jail as soon as he’s stable. So Wayne will be able to bring him home. 

Once he has a home to go to. Not just a shitty hotel room that costs more than it should for a night. But it’s right next to the hospital, so Wayne can be here in five minutes if something happens. When his boy wakes up. He has to wake up. 

It’s been five days since Eddie was brought in. Twelve since Wayne saw him last. All he wants is to hear his obnoxiously loud music blaring down the hall while he’s trying to sleep. Or the laughter that could make him smile even when he didn’t want to. Wayne wants his Eddie back, the boy he watched grow all of these years. He’s not ready for the day Eddie wakes up and the light is gone from his eyes. 

Because it will be. Wayne’s seen enough people come back from combat a completely different person. With the scars that are sewn into Eddie’s torso, up his neck, one on his cheek. There’s no doubt that he’s been through something unimaginable. Life changing. 

As much as Wayne wants Eddie to wake up. He’s not ready for him to wake up changed. 

There’s a knock on the hospital door before it opens. Wayne’s expecting a nurse to check Eddie’s vitals, tell him the same shit they have for days. That all is good and he’s progressing. It should be any day now that he wakes up. If the damage to his body wasn’t too much for him. Those words of hope lack their meaning now. 

But instead of a nurse walking through the door, it’s the Chief. 

“Can I sit?” He motions to the chair next to Wayne.

“I suppose.”

The Chief sits next to Wayne, not looking at him. “I hear he’s been in a coma for a few days now.”

Wayne nods, not much in the mood for talking. Civilly at least. Push the right button and the volcano is about to burst. 

“I’ve known a few people who’ve been in medically induced ones like this. They all wake up in the end.”

“I’d like for the cuffs to be off his wrist when he does,” Wayne snaps. Knowing that the Chief has the key to unlock them. “That way he can recover as an innocent man. Like he should.”

The Chief takes a deep breath. “I’m not fully reinstated yet. I don’t have the authority to do anything about that. Even if-”

“Even if what?” Wayne looks at the Chief. Anger filled his voice. “Even if he’s innocent. I know he’s innocent. My boy, my boy could barely hurt a fly, let alone a living, breathing person. He was kinder than people gave him credit for. This town gave him so much shit that he didn’t deserve. Still is. When I’m afraid he might never wake up the same again. So I’d like the cuffs off, so he knows that some part of this town sees him as something other than a villain.”

Finally looking Wayne in the eyes, the Chief takes a second to think. Nodding his head in thought. “You smoke?”

Wayne scoffs. “That really what you're thinking of right now?”

“Answer the question.” Something about the Chief makes Wayne believe there’s more to his words. 

“I do.”

“Great,” he stands, waiting for Wayne at the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

Wayne gets up, mainly because he doesn’t really have a choice but also because he wants to see where this is going. They pass Harrington in the hall, talking to someone on the phone. 

“Yeah, I’m free tomorrow. Can’t wait to sleep in my own bed. No don’t do that. Cause I don’t think it’s time to throw a party yet, not while.” He makes brief eye contact with Wayne as they walk by. Before turning away. “Just won’t feel right without all of us.”

Wayne has no clue who he’s talking about, but it’s probably not Eddie. Hopes it isn’t. He still doesn’t know how he feels about this kid, even if he knows Eddie’s innocent. Doesn’t forgive him from his past, if rumors are true. And knowing who his dad is, Wayne wouldn’t be surprised if they all were true. 

The Chief leads him to the side of the hospital, where there’s no foot traffic. No one around to hear. Wayne suddenly understands what this might all be about. Something not for wandering ears. 

“What I say does not leave this conversation,” he starts, handing Wayne a cigarette. Lighting his own before passing the lighter to Wayne. “Got it?”

Wayne nods. 

“I know Eddie’s innocent. But there’s some weird shit that was happening around then that I cannot tell you about it. All you need to know is that the Feds are involved, and they’re looking for a fall guy. And I’m trying my hardest to make sure that the fall guy isn’t your nephew. So while it might not seem like it, some progress is being made. Your nephew will be a free man when he wakes up. I give you my word on that.”

“I don’t even know how to start processing what you just said.” Wayne takes a long drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke blow out into the alleyway. 

The Chief laughs. “That was all of us the first time this happened. I’d say it gets easier but it really doesn’t.”

“The first time?”

“There’s a lot more to this town than meets the eye.”

“How do I know your word is any good?”

The Chief considers this for a moment. “You don’t really. But who else do you know who can fix this?”

With that, the Chief nods goodbye and heads to the parking lot. Leaving Wayne with more questions than answers, and a little flame of hope he’s wishing won’t get put out.

part 3

I don't know how many parts this will be but I do know they will be posted sporadically whenever I have time to write them. So, no promises of consistency.

also, tag list. I tagged anyone who asked/seemed interested in a part two. please let me know if you would like to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar

[cursed-peanut]

A/N: Hello everyoneeee!!! As promised, here is part 2 of Reunited!! I will be making more parts however it won’t be like a fic, more like a combination of scenarios, headcanons, etc. If you have any questions or thoughts on this AU, my ask box is always open and so are my comments. My taglist is also open! If you’d like to be added, lmk! Please make sure I can tag your account first though. May sound silly but I couldn’t tag some people because they had tagging disabled. If you were one of the people who asked to be tagged but wasn’t, please change that in Tumblr settings :) Anyway, this kinda gave yandereish vibes at the end??? If you want me to turn it into that or write a spin off where Sukuna is a Yandere for reader, lmk in the comments 💗 Anywho, happy reading and I hope you all enjoy this as much as you all did in part 1 <333

————————————

“You are to be monitored by me at all times! If you get caught walking around by yourself well…I will either get an earful from the old hags at the top or they’ll have both of our heads, no in between!” Gojo Satoru tells you in a tone way too cheerful for what he was telling you.

“What? Why? I don’t even have any cursed energy, I’m just a regular human, I’m not some powerful sorcerer.”

“That is exactly why. We’re keeping your presence under the radar for now, but as soon as it inevitably slips out that you’re back and so is Sukuna, so will immediately become a target.”

“That’s not true. ‘Kuna may not be back to his full power, however he is still strong. No curses and sorcerer’s alike would dare hurt someone so close to the King of Curses.”

“While you may be right that he’s powerful even though Sukuna isn’t at his full potential, your ‘Kuna’ currently has the power of one of his fingers and is stuck in a fifteen year old boys body. He could easily be evaded by fellow special grade curses and curse users. Please realise this is for your safety.”

This doesn’t make sense to you. Yes, he’s not at his full power, but it’s not like you’ll be leaving Jujutsu Tech anyway. After all, you don’t go on missions, you’re not a Jujutsu Sorcerer and you will never have a chance to — not that you want to anyway. So logistically there is no need for your protection. Are they worried sorcerers might attack you? That’s surely a fault in the system of their schooling and society if they’re scared of that. Or maybe…they don’t trust you?

“They want me dead because of my relation to ‘Kuna, don’t they?” Gojo’s deafening silence answers your question. “Why?”

“Because they’re afraid that there’s a possibility you’re hiding a powerful technique from us. I personally don’t believe you are deceiving us, but even if you were, I’d be able to stop you anyway. So don’t be become all cocky with delusion. Thinking you can defeat me.” He grins.

“Mhm, well…thank you then.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for believing in me,” You shakily sigh. “I’m happy to know someone is willing to stand up for me.”

“Of course! I would get a mopey Yuji if you died, and who knows how Sukuna would react, but I know for a fact it would not end well. Talking of Yuji and Sukuna, we should go check on them now!”

That’s right. Itadori has recently been announced as dead, however it seems Itadori must have made some sort of pact with Sukuna to revive him. You and Gojo, along with a few others at Jujutsu Tech, are the only people who know he’s alive. Gojo seems to take this opportunity to train Itadori well, and what that truly means is most of the time he conducts experiments that mainly consist of Gojo purposely annoying Sukuna to see how Itadori’s body would react. Most experiments involved you in some way — he found Sukuna’s threats very amusing, but what he found even more amusing is your ability to make the King of Curses sulk for a day by simply lightly reprimanding him for these threats.

“‘Kuna! That is no way to talk to someone. He just wanted a hug.”

“Yeah ‘Kunaaaa. I just wanted a hug.”

“Gojo-Sensei, please. Stop angering him. It’s getting harder and harder to suppress him.”

“This is exactly why I’m doing this! To help you learn how to suppress Sukuna, no matter the circumstances.” Gojo explains. While that may be partly true, Itadori knows that’s a lie. He’s doing this because it’s funny to him.

“You better watch it, Sorcerer scum,” Sukuna grits. “May I remind you that when I make this idiots body my own, I’m killing you first.”

“‘Kuna!” You scowl, hugging Gojo tighter to Sukuna’s dismay. Gojo flashes a shit-eating-grin Sukuna’s way for one last time and lets go of you.

“Thank you, Sensei. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could suppress him for.” Itadori sighs. You sit down next to him and give him a warm hug, rubbing circles on his back. Itadori looks up at you with warm eyes as you press a kiss to his forehead. You always bring the mummy issues out of him.

Meanwhile, in Sukuna’s domain, Sukuna is looking at you through Itadori’s eyes and he can’t help but marvel at you. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers, and you’re so unbelievably near. He wishes he could take his vessel’s place, return to his former glory with you by his side, but that will have to wait.

He will return to his former glory and you will be at his side when that happens. But above all else, what makes his wait all the more worth it, is the world he plans to create will be perfect for you and him. You wouldn’t need to worry about any disgusting sorcerers killing him and sealing you again.

Even if you hate him for killing the sorcerers, he can live with that. As long as you still love him, and stay by his side, he can deal with that.

——————————————

Taglist: @makuzume @spicyhyunn @pearlescentwonderland @namjooningera @six-eyed-samurai @natriae @domainofmarie @lixern @fluttershyfangs @girlyuuta @anabort @yu-87 @sukunaglazer4ever @madison777x @dervngedgf @calisnewworld @ilybbg @the-banshee @mostnormalsukunastan2024real @williamafton26 @mythoswarrior-23 @megantheefan @mindless-rock @kimsunoo2003 @anayesha1 @lelelenlenn @shyshybabyy @unlikelystay @shigemis0ra @iloveboysinred @eresel4mordemivid4 @meo66 @frozen-waffles @mrsslytherin00 @lazyperfectioniste @whosmarjj @itawifeyy @sugurubabe @hanniebanggi

Please don’t copy or take as your own. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Like what you read? Here are all my other works and consider following me! If you’re interested in this AU, here is the masterlist for all works in this AU so far. If you would like to request something, please check my rules first before doing so.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo going berserk after his wife got injured

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: slight injury, language, Gojo being really mad lol

Notes: My dearest @hitori979, this one is dedicated to you! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me since day 0, always liking and commenting my brainrot. I hope you enjoy this fanfic as a little thank you from me 🤍 How other JJK men react when (y/n) gets hurt here Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

„Do you really have to go, babe?“, Satoru’s oh so sweet voice mumbles against your neck.

You know exactly what he’s up to. Satoru always acts this way when you’re about to leave for a mission. How much he hates to see you walk through the door. While he’s fully aware of the fact that you’re a damn strong jujutsu sorcerer, he just dislikes the thought of you getting injured on some stupid mission. If he had it his way, you would stay at home, maybe teach here and there at Jujutsu High, but that’s it.

You are way too precious to risk your life on a mission.

“You know I have to. This is my job, remember? And I have to let you go every day, knowing that you’re not even paying attention. May I remind you that I haven’t been injured for over a year?”, you softly reply.

“That’s not true, I am paying attention!”

You raise your eyebrow demandingly by the way he ignored your last question.

“At least sometimes…Come on babe, this is not fair! Just because you haven’t been injured for some time doesn’t mean you won’t get injured today! Also, I wanted to spend the day with you!”, he complains, arms wrapped around your frame so tightly that it’s getting hard to breathe.

“You always want to spend the day with me. As much as I’d love to stay here, I have to go. Megumi will assist me.”

“I should assist you…”, he mumbles.

“They wouldn’t even send me, then”, you chuckle.

“Promise that you’ll text me, I already threatened Megumi to take care of you.”

“I will, darling. Now let me go or I’ll be late.”

With one last grumble and kiss, he finally lets go of you while you smile to yourself. God, how much you adore your husband. Even though it can be quite challenging from time to time, you admire the way he cares about you.

“I love you”, you shout before you close the door behind you.

“Love you too!”

-later-

“Don’t worry, one or two hours and we’ll be done with this”, you reassure Megumi who stands beside you.

“This doesn’t look good”, he comments.

Unfortunately, he’s right. You don’t know why there are so many curses around, but an uneasy feeling spreads in your guts. This isn’t the right place for a grade 2 sorcerer, let alone a first class student. Well, maybe even you…

“Try to stay behind me. This will get ugly”, you instruct Megumi when another wave of curses appears.

“Gojo-sensei will kill me if you get injured because of me.”

You wink at him while as you unsheathe your sword.

“Who said I will?”

Without wasting another precious minute you sprint forwards, eyes darting around the area. There are so many, way too fucking many, curses around here. This isn’t normal, something is very wrong here. But you don’t have time to think about it any further – Megumi’s and your life depend on your abilities.

You fight off more than 40 curses with ease, slashing your sword over and over. Fuck, this has no end. As soon as you exorcise one curse, two more appear on your sides and try to attack you. With every passing minute it becomes clearer and clearer to you that you won’t be able to complete this mission unscathed with Megumi alone.

“Here are many curses around, I can’t explain why though. It wouldn’t hurt to send some help”, you instruct into your headphone, fully aware of the fact that your husband is able to hear your decent cry for help as well and might freak out.

Where do all of these curses come from? This is a public place, it shouldn’t be possible for them to develop here this well. Expect this aren’t traditional curses…

“I won’t lie to you: Something’s off here. I’m not entirely sure if these are normal curses. Just stand your ground, I already informed the higher ups about this”, you inform Megumi with firm voice, fighting off a curse just before it is able to scratch your face open.

They come from all directions, almost absorbing you. Desperately you fight back with all your abilities, holding onto your sword so tight that your knuckles stand out white. You have to get through all of these curses, you have to find out why they’re here and why on earth so numerous.

But you can’t. Your thoughts wander to Satoru and his words this morning. He’ll definitely go insane when he hears about this. And for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you by that thought. Because this means he’ll come here and end this madness without Megumi getting hurt.

Megumi.

You almost miss the way a curse lunges from behind towards him while he’s busy fighting off three other ones at the same time. Instinctively you sprint forwards as fast as your feet carry you, breath going sharp and fast. No way in hell this thing will hurt Megumi. Not when you’re in charge.

“Bend over!”, you scream on top of your lungs, blade already on its way to cut through that curse.

But just before you hit it, its claws find their way into your face, scratching your forehead slightly before it falls to the ground lifelessly.

You hiss, a stinging pain crawling up your skin. But when you gently scan the spot with your fingertips, only a minor stain of blood shows itself. You let out your breath, relief flooding your body. This is nothing serious, nothing to worry about.

But before you sprint back in action, a reflex holds you back.

“Don’t move an inch, Megumi”, you warn the boy next to you.

In the split of a second, a wave of hollow purple rushes past your orbs, killing every curse on its way. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s him. It has to be him.

“(y/n)!”, he cries out, large frame suddenly by your side.

“What is this?”, he hisses.

Frantically, his eyes scan your forehead, widen in blank horror.

“Oh, this? Just a minor wound, nothing to worry ab-“

“Nothing to worry about!? You promised to be careful, you promised not to get hurt!”, he literally scolds you while his fingertips inspect your wound.

“Stop that”, you warn him, slapping his hand away.

“I did the best I could but they were just too many. And there are always more to come, look.”

Not even a minute later, dozens of new curses begin to flood the streets.

“We need to get back to work!”

“No”, he interrupts you roughly.

“Not you, you’ll stay here.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth too stunned to speak for a second. He can’t be serious, right? This is your mission. You won’t give up because a small wound on your forehead that isn’t even bleeding severely.

“This is my mission, Satoru. I will help you exorcising these curses”, you state in all seriousness.

“Oh yeah? Watch me, then.”

You aren’t able to react any further. With breathtaking speed, Satoru lunges from curse to curse, ripping their heads off in the most violent way you have ever seen while all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. Of course you always knew that your husband is not to be trifled with when it comes to his precious wife, but you’ve never thought that his concern would reach as far as him going berserk because of you.

Because of a minor laceration on your forehead.

It doesn’t even take him 30 seconds to kill all the curses entirely, leaving you completely speechless and a little dizzy. When he walks towards you, a maniac smile is plastered on his blood-covered face.

“No one is hurting my wife and gets away with it. Especially not some random curse”, he announces under his breath, gaze still stone cold.

“How are you feeling, love? Is your head doing okay? Did you get injured somewhere else?”

As soon as his eyes meet yours, they are filled with nothing but concern and love, making your heart skip a beat.

“N-No…I’m fine…”, you stutter while getting lost in his bright blue orbs all over again.

His hands roam around your body gently, gaze scanning every inch of you with that worried expression plastered on his face. Moments like these show you with all urgency how much you really mean to your husband.

“I will kill every single curse walking on this earth to save you, (y/n)”, he speaks out with low voice, lips hungrily brushing over yours so strongly expressed that you feel like fainting.

“I’m sorry you were worried”, you mumble against his mouth.

“You’ll never get hurt by a curse again. I’ll make sure of that.”

[miniwheat77]

Tight. (Mean!Keegan x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, Keegan being a meanie, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any.

This is not edited give me a break lmao

You flinch slightly as he passes by you, body going rigid.

You cross your arms, nervously passing by him. You hate that he’s able to do this to you.

He’s mean to you. No matter what you do, he hates it. He’s cruel and it’s worse when there’s no one around. You hurry into your room to avoid him anymore. You don’t know what you did, but he hates you.

When you were first on base, you were happy. You loved being in the military and you loved helping people. Until now. His hatred for you made you bitter and cold. Waking up was tiring and miserable and sometimes you just wish you hadn’t. Seeing him, hearing what he had to say. All of it. It was sickening.

You really liked Keegan at first. You tried your hardest to get on his good side. Nothing you did ever seemed to work. Eventually you just gave up.

A sigh leaves your lips. Wiping your tired eyes. You had to trade for watch soon and you weren’t ready.

You stood up, looking out your door to make sure the hallway was clear, you didn’t want to run into Keegan anymore tonight.

You made your way down the hallway, closing your door behind you. You exit through the large metal door and make your way across base to the watch tower. Making your way up the stairs to relieve the last person on watch.

He thanked you before going back down the stairs you had just come up. It was basically a room full of cameras up in a watch tower, meant for watching everything. “Hey, before I go.” He stops just as he’s out of your sight, coming back inside. “Keegan was telling me a little bit about you.” He smiles. He’s standing with his back to the door, closing it. You notice his fingers twist the lock on it. The hair on your body stands up and you stand up from your chair, resting your hand on your sidearm. “If Keegan said it, I’m sure it’s not true.” You mumble. “He was just saying that you like to… get around. Was thinking maybe since nobody will be up here for a couple hours.” He shrugs, tugging the zipper down on his vest. “What he said wasn’t true. I’m not interested.” You say quickly. “Oh come on.. is it me?” He breathes. Taking a step toward you. You raise your shirt up to reveal your gun. “I said I’m not interested. I won’t say it again.” You breathe. He raises his hands up, a laugh leaving his lips. “Alright. Suit yourself. Thought I’d try my luck.” He mumbles. Taking a step back. “He said you were a slut, thought you’d be easier.” He laughs. Disappearing through the door finally. As soon as he’s gone, you’re rushing to lock the door. Sighing in relief. What the fuck was that?

Tears burn your eyes as you sit down, letting your head hang. You can’t help them as they fall. You were so defeated, and so fucking angry.

You wipe your eyes, regaining your composure for a minute before picking up your radio. “Hey, Maria, can you cover my watch for me early? I’ve got a headache and think I need to go see a medic.” You call to her over the radio. “No problem.”

You hurry down the steps, not wanting to be spotted by her. Keegan always spent his time in the mechanic shop on base, he got along with the mechanic and liked learning new things. Most likely he’d be there. It was late, but he didn’t sleep well during the night. You rush across the base, ankles burning from fast walking as you burst through the door to the shop. There’s only one Humvee currently inside. Keegan is sitting at the desk, working on some kind of paperwork. You startle him slightly when you barge through the door, making him look up. He stands up when he sees you. “What are you doing here?” He mumbles. “Fuck you.” You seethe. You pause, the tears slip from your eyes before you even start talking, you want to hold them back but you can’t. Not anymore. Your feet are planted on the ground a few feet away from him. “I just had someone come onto me in the goddamn watch tower because of you. Because of what you keep saying about me.” Your voice is unsteady. “I don’t know what the fuck I ever did you to Keegan, but I can’t fucking take it anymore. You win.” You spit. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” He mumbles. “Dramatic?” You freeze. You turn to him. “You’ve done nothing but make my life a living hell since I met you.” Your voice is quiet and serious. “I used to love this. I used to love knowing that I was helping people. I used to love every second of a mission, getting to meet civilians of all kinds, seeing all parts of the world and looking at peace through the violence. Now? I dread every single second of every single mission, because of you. I pray that I’ll die on them. Get shot, or stabbed. Just so that I don’t have to see your face. When we have to parachute out to reach a mission? I pray that my parachute doesn’t open. You’ve made my life a living hell, you’ve ruined me. So yeah, you win Keegan. Maybe that makes me dramatic but it’s the truth. I hate you. I hate you so goddamn much that it hurts.” Tears stream freely from your eyes. “Okay? What do you want me to say hm?” He breathes. “Why. Why do you do it?” He can’t lie, the heartbreak you feel unsettles him a little bit. “Because. You think you’re so perfect. You think that everything is all fine and dandy. The military isn’t for pathetic people like you. I mean.. look at you?” He laughs.

“So.. because I choose to see the good in everything, I deserve to be torn down? Treated like shit?” You’re moving closer to him. He laughs. “I’m sorry that not everyone can be a miserable sack of shit like you.” You growl. A gasp leaves your lips when he grasps you by your throat, backing you up and slamming you up against the wall by the desk. “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growls. A whimper leaves your lips. “Fuck you.” You seethe. He tightens his grip. You try to swallow but can’t. “Do your fucking worst, you can’t hurt me any-“ he cuts off the rest of your oxygen, watching you turn red. His eyes are fixed on your lips and you look confused. He lets go, hearing you take in a deep breath. He moves closer to you, looking at your eyes before they flicker to your lips.

You’ve got to be delusional.

He grits his teeth, hand shaking as it sits at your throat. “You’re pathetic.” He growls. “Little bunny can’t even take a joke.” He chuckles. You try to push him back, but he forces you back even harder. “I hate you too, you know. Everyone fucking likes you and they don’t know how fucking pathetic you are.” He shakes his head.

“You feel good? Does treating me like shit make you feel good? You’re the pathetic one here. You spend every second of every day making someone else’s life hell because you’re so unhappy in your ow-“

His lips are what cut you off. You freeze for a second, and despite every nerve in your body telling you to force him off of you, you kiss him back. He kisses you hard, forcing his tongue into your mouth, he’s got his mask pushed up to the bridge of his nose. He tightens his grip on your throat unintentionally as he kisses you, like you’ll slip away from his grasp. He lets go of your throat finally, lowering his hand to grope your breasts, hearing you gasp into his mouth. When he pulls away, you take in a sharp breath. Seeing the way you’re looking at him makes him regret it. The loving stare you always have. Intensified by his touch.

He reaches lower, unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your legs. Once your lower half is completely exposed to him, he shoves some of the stuff on the desk to the side. Lifting you up and setting you on the desk. He hurries to unbutton his own pants, tugging them just low enough to expose himself. You’re still staring him down, lips parted slightly. “Stop looking at me like that.” He growls.

“What?” You breathe, “like you like me. You should hate me.” He growls. Lining himself up with your entrance. He tugs you closer to the edge of the desk, pushing himself into your entrance, hearing you gasp. “Oh fuck- you’re fucking tight,” he growls. Your eyes move from his face to where the both of you connect. Watching him slide into the cavern between your legs. You can’t peel your eyes away from him, your body betrays you for him. “Keegan-“ you whine. “The door-“ you gasp, clutching onto the desk. “Shut up.” He growls. “Let them see us.” He pants. He’s got a death grip on your thighs, the desk making an awful screech with each thrust he takes into you. The metal scratching the concrete. You try to be quiet, but it’s hard. As much as you hate to admit it, he feels good. Sliding up against parts of you that’ve been completely untouched. He stimulates parts of you that you didn’t know existed, you didn’t know you needed this. You can feel something building in your lower stomach.

You know that you should push him away, feel disgusted for letting him have something so intimate. You’ll be another notch on his belt, he’ll return to being the asshole that he is. The cry that leaves your lips interrupting your thoughts, you sit up, holding yourself tight. You’re watching him slide into you, seeing your arousal build at the base of his cock. You go quiet and that’s when he’s concerned. Seeing you staring between the both of you. You don’t push him away, so he keeps going. Your breathing picks up, but you can’t tear your eyes away from it. You’re having sex with him, with Keegan. Your eyes finally flicker up to his face and he laughs. “Thought I lost you in there for a second.” He mumbles. Gritting his teeth. You say nothing, breath catching in your throat. “Look at you. So fucking dumb because of my cock.” The knot that’s wound up in your stomach is about to snap. “Keegan- I-“ you breathe. You can’t even finish your sentence, your body lurching hard as you cum, his eyes widening when you soak his cargo pants. Your eyes roll back, knuckles turning white as you hold onto the desk. “That’s it. Cum on my fucking cock.” He growls. You’re gripping onto him tight, sending him right into his own orgasm, hearing loud moans and whimpers leave his lips as he reaches his peak. He fills you up to the hilt, teeth gritted as he fucks you to ride out your high. Enjoying the way you tense up at the way he overstimulates you.

You’re quiet when he pulls out of you, whining at the loss of you wrapped around him. His filth spills back out of you, and he bites his lip when he sees it. He adjusts his mask when he steps back from you.

You move quickly to slide your pants back on, quickly putting your boot back on. You take in a breath to say something to him, but stop yourself. He’s got his back turned to you to clean himself up, and that’s when you take your opportunity to leave. He hears your footsteps and assumes you going to get something. Whipping around when he hears the door open. He sees your arm shutting the door behind you. He sighs. “Goddamnit Y/N.” He mumbles, buttoning his pants and fixing the desk.

—

The following day, he can’t seem to find you. He’s been looking all day. Finally, you emerge into the hallway from your Captain’s office into the hallway. “Well. If you really think that’s what you want, we’ll set you up an appointment and fill out the paperwork for a transfer.” He nods. You smile nervously. “We’re really going to miss you, and between here and there, I hope you’ll change your mind. You’re a good Sergeant Y/N.” He nods, passing by Keegan. Your eyes follow him, and your smile fades when you see Keegan standing there. He’s staring back at you. You tear your eyes away from his, turning and making your way to your room.

You step inside, closing the door behind you with a sigh.

He opens it and steps inside, startling you. He closes it behind himself, locking it. “You’re not going.” He breathes. You stay quiet. “Keegan. You need to leave.” You finally say after a minute. “No. You’re not going. If you go, I’ll follow you.” He breathes. “Wherever you go, I’ll find a way to be there with you. Don’t care what it is or where.”

“You can’t. You’ve done enough.”

He growls at your response, stepping closer to you. “You’re not going. No.” He shakes his head. He grasps his mask, tugging it off. “No. You’re staying.” You close your eyes as he moves closer. “Nobody will touch you like I can.” He breathes. You clench your eyes tighter. “You saw the way your body reacted to mine. I made you cum on me, I filled your pussy with my cum.” He breathes. “Stop-“ you flinch. “You loved it.” He mumbles, he’s backed you up into the wall behind you. “Keegan stop.” You breathe. “Open your eyes. Look at me.” He breathes, pressing his hand to your throat but not being rough. “Nobody will fuck you like I did. Nobody will understand you.”

“You’re wrong. I can’t live like this.”

“Give yourself to me completely and things will change.” He breathes.

“You call me a slut, I’m not doing this.” You push him back but he forces you back. “You are doing this.” He grits his teeth. “I know, I know I don’t say the right things. I didn’t mean it. I just.. you’re so fucking perfect and I can’t.. but you.. you let me fuck you. You let me touch you.” He closes his eyes. “Don’t go.” He breathes.

Your eyes prick with tears and you keep your eyes closed because you know if you see his eyes you’ll change your mind. “Stay.” He breathes. His breath is warm on your face as he holds you there. “You have to stop. If I stay.” You breathe. “You have to stop saying what you say about me.”

“I can do that.” He sighs. Running his hand between your legs. “But I’m going to be rough with you.. I have to be rough with your pussy if you want me to be nice.” He breathes. You go tense as he touches you. You sigh. You don’t know what to do. You feel his lips against yours once again, and you know you won’t be able to stay away if you kiss back.

You’re delusional. He’s played mind games with you. What is happening?

You can’t help it, melting right into him, kissing him back.

Here you go, spiraling out of control once again.

[mountttmase]

Not Your Fault

Note - i hope you’re all excited to meet the final bubba 🩷 a few guesses for the name were right but no one guessed the exact spelling 😂 I hope you love them as much as I do though and hopefully I’ll be able to write about them a bit more as we learn about their personality 😌 hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 6k

Warnings - fluff, smut, tiny bit of angst

Putting the kids to bed with Mason was never an easy task. Mason putting the kids to bed on his own was a recipe for disaster but right now there wasn't much the pair of you could do.

You could hear Mason trying to wrangle your two babies as you sat with your third in the nursery. Ollie trying his hardest to help Mason tame Tilly as she ran riot and you knew Mason was about to explode. You wondered if you should get up to help but Ryley was feeding peacefully in your arms and you didn’t want to disturb him.

‘Welcome to the mad house baby’ you whispered, stroking your finger along his perfect nose all the way down to the end before awkwardly reaching down to kiss his head. ‘You’ll get used to Tills, she’s just excited about you being here’

And she really was.

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d get pregnant so quickly after agreeing to try again and after your first two pregnancies you thought you knew your body well enough now to know when something had changed. Clearly that wasn’t the case though and it was actually Mason who figured it out first that were pregnant with a little help from Nala.

The kids were at school and Mason came home to find you cuddled up with Nala on the sofa. Her head and paws on your tummy as you scratched her head but as soon as he tried to cuddle you, Nala wasn’t having it. Growling at him when he tried to put his arms around you and pushing him away with her nose.

‘What’s crawled up her arse and died’ Mason laughed. Trying to snake his hands around your middle but Nala would fight him off every time until he gave up and grabbed your boob instead.

‘Mason? Do you mind’

‘Take it up with her, she’s hogging you’ he huffed but you just let it slide. You knew Mason needed to be holding something and if it was your boob then you’d just have to get on with it as he wouldn’t move off. You didn’t think anything of it though, you just knew Nala was protective and after you’d been cuddling for a while she was feeling territorial.

It was two days later that Mason caught you crying in the utility room. Half buried under all of the kids washing and the look of concern on his face just made you cry even harder. You’d been trying to get ontop of the cleaning all day and it the point you just felt overwhelmed.

‘Hey, what’s wrong sweetheart?’ He asked as he helped you up but you didn’t really have an answer for him. Trying to quieten your sobs but you could feel your bottom lip still wobbling as he looked at you softly.

‘Sorry Mase, I don’t even know why I’m crying’ you laughed as he wiped your eyes for you. ‘I’m just a bit emotional at the moment’ you told him and by the small sigh you knew he had something he wanted to say so you raised your eyebrow at him in hopes he’d speak.

‘Baby, you don’t think you might be…’

‘Drowning in washing?’ You laughed but the soft look on his face made you be quiet. He looked genuinely concerned but there was also something behind his eyes you couldn’t quite place.

‘No you wally… pregnant’

Pregnant? You didn’t think so at all. Apart from feeling more emotional than usual you didn’t have any other symptoms that you could think of and you wondered if Mason was just getting ahead of himself.

‘No I don’t think so Mase, I’d know if I was’ you told him but you watched his face soften as he cupped your jaw.

‘Well I know you too, and I think you are’ he teased. ‘You’re all emotional, you’re eating everything in sight and Nala suddenly won’t let me go near you’ he listed off and you blushed at the fact he’d clearly caught you snacking more than usual. ‘Maybe we should check? Just to rule it out’

‘I mean we can but it’ll just be a waste’ you laughed ‘We only started trying a month ago, Mase. I doubt it would have happened that quickly’

‘Don’t doubt my powers of fertility’ he laughed and even though you wanted to smile you were trying your hardest to keep a straight face.

‘You’re insane’ you huffed, grabbing his hand and taking him upstairs to your en-suite. You’d made sure to stock up on tests since you were now trying and you instructed him to wait on the bed while you took it.

‘There you go’ you smiled, walking out of the bathroom and handing him the capped test that was still loading. ‘What do you fancy for dinner? I’ll go get it started’ you told him as you made your way to the door but he grabbed your wrist to hold you in place, looking back at you like you’d lost your mind.

‘You’re not gonna wait?’

‘There's no point, it’ll be negative babe. Now what do you want?’ You told him, shrugging your shoulders as you really believe deep down that you had nothing to worry about as there was no way you were pregnant already.

‘You pick’ he told you quietly, and with a kiss to his forehead you made your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

Mason was gone for a while, almost to the point where you were about to go and find him but he suddenly appeared in the doorway with his eyes full of tears and a soft smile on his face. You knew he would be upset that it was negative, knowing he wanted a third baby more than anything but you figured at least if he was smiling then he hadn’t taken it too hard.

You didn’t have a chance to say anything though, Mason coming straight over to you so he could cup your face and press gentle kisses over your cheeks which made you blush and your knees weak but you loved his gentle side and you let him shower with you affection.

Before you could reassure him everything would be fine and you had all the time in the world to try for baby number three, he pulled back to look at you and you were frozen in place as you knew what that look in his eye meant.

‘You’re pregnant baby’

‘What?’

‘You’re pregnant’ he laughed, kissing your cheeks again as you froze in his hold. Letting him continue to kiss your face and it’s like his words hadn’t hit you yet until he rested his forehead on top of yours.

‘You're lying’ you whispered, your bottom lip wobbling as your eyes started to burn but he just laughed at you. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the test so he could show you and there it was in black and white. The words pregnant staring you back in the face until you looked up into Masons happy ones. ‘We’re having a baby’

You burst into tears instantly as you fell into Mason's chest. Him holding you close to his body as he rocked you from side to side, letting you know it was okay and that he’d keep you safe, the both of you safe, and when you eventually pulled back he kissed your tears away.

‘I didn’t think it would be this quick, sorry it’s just a bit of a shock’ you laughed, trying to wrap your head around it as your stared back at the word pregnant.

‘It’s alright, baby. Are you feeling okay?’

‘I think so’ you laughed. Letting him grip the back of your thighs so he could place you on the counter and look him in the eye. ‘I just can’t believe it, like I don’t even know what to think’

‘Well It’s still early love, how about we keep it to ourselves for a little while and tell the kids when we’re certain everything’s okay’ he reassured you and you felt yourself relax at how calm and in control he was about everything. ‘We can tell the rest of the world after that when you’re ready but for now it’s just us yeah? You, me and Nala’ he joked before pulling you in for a well needed hug.

So you kept it to yourselves. Telling the kids after your 12 week scan and as soon as Tilly found out you were pregnant she’d barely left your side and was seemingly very quizzical about what was happening. You knew she wanted to come out and ask fully how it had happened but she kept it inside until one night when it was just the three of you.

Ollie was at a friend's house for dinner and after all of you had eaten, you were cuddled up on the sofa with Mason, Tilly nestled in between you. Her head on Mason's chest as you watched whatever was on the tv but soon enough Tilly was ready for a biology lesson.

‘Daddy, how did the baby get in mummy’s belly?’ she asked, her head tilting up to look at him but as soon as you looked up you could see the panic written all over his face.

‘Yeah, how did it happen, Mase?’ You teased wanting to know how he’d worm his way out of this one but you could see he was hating every second of this. Sending you a what the fuck face before looking back down at Tilly who was waiting patiently for him to explain.

‘Okay, so you know how you write a letter to Santa at Christmas?’ He started, Tilly nodding excitedly and you could see the cogs turning in his brain, wondering where the hell he was going with this but let him carry on. ‘Well, when two people who love each other very much want a baby, they write a letter to the stork and then you have to bury it in the garden so they can come and pick it up’

You could see Tilly wasn’t buying it, looking back at him in confusion and you yourself were waiting for what he had to say next.

‘But how?’

‘How what?’

‘His did they get into mummy’s belly’ he asked more firmly this time as Mason was quite clearly skirting around it but knowing Tilly she would ask and ask until she got her answer.

‘Well um… well then the stork, it comes back and uh… and it leaves a seed which is the baby… and uh, that goes in Mummy’s tummy’ he nodded, stuttering the whole way through as he was panicking but you were loving how flustered he was. Trying to hold in a laugh as you covered your mouth with your hand.

‘But how does the seed get in there?’ She persisted, watching Mason now try to hide a smile before his eyes flashed to yours and you knew he was about to say something he shouldn’t.

‘She swallows it’

‘Okay that’s enough for today’ you interrupted, pulling Tilly onto your lap ‘you need to go and pick Ollie up’ you told Mason with a slightly dissatisfied look on your face and he quickly kissed your forehead la with a smile before getting up. ‘Come on missy, let’s get you in the bath, yeah?’

‘Okay mummy,’ she smiled. Reaching over to give Mason a kiss on the cheek before making her way up the stairs and you promised her you’d be right up in a minute.

‘Right I won’t be long’ Mason laughed as he got up, reaching down to help pull you up with him but he must have caught the unimpressed look from you as he began to laugh at your expression. ‘What?’

‘You know what’ you laughed. ‘Maybe If I had swallowed we wouldn’t be in this state would we’

‘I love it when you talk dirty’ Mason laughed. Pulling you into him with his hand on your bum and he squeezed it as he kissed you heavily. ‘I’ll see you soon, maybe when the kids are in bed we can try-‘

‘Mason I swear to god’ you laughed, pulling away and tapping his chest before making a beeline for the stairs but the sound of his giggles as he made his way out the door made you giggle along too.

Things took a turn at the gender reveal though. The four of you not doing anything extravagant but you knew you wanted the kids involved so after you scan you gave your bestie Sid an envelope with the gender inside so she could organise a cake and the next day you were all sat around the kitchen island with wine glasses in hand ready to sink them into the cake and you couldn’t be more excited.

Mason and Ollie didn’t care what the gender was, as did you, but Tilly was gunning for a baby sister. Having already picked out some toys for her to have and she constantly referred to the baby as she. You knew there would be a meltdown if she didn’t get her way but you were trying to distract her as best you could.

‘Okay, are we ready?’ you laughed, popping your hand on Tilly’s glass to help her push down into the cake and after the count of three you shut your eyes and pushed down on both until you hit the board.

It was Tilly crying no that made you realise what had happened. Looking round to see everyone’s glass filled with the blue frosting from the inside of the cake but Tilly’s wails wouldn’t let you enjoy your time just yet.

Mason was trying his hardest to contain his laughter and when you pulled Tilly into a hug to console her, he wrapped his arms around the pair of you whilst Ollie just grabbed a fork and began to dig into his cake.

‘Tilly baby, it’s okay’ you tried to reassure her, holding your laughs in as best you could but she just cried harder.

‘I don’t like boys’ she sobbed into your neck as she held you tight and as much as Mason looked like he was about to lose it, he peeled Tilly away from you and began to talk to her quietly. Eventually taking her out into the garden where you could see him swaying her from side to side as he spoke into the side of her head and eventually she was nodding her head and wiping her eyes

You joined Ollie though, accepting the fork he passed you so you could dig in too while you spoke about the new baby boy on the way and Ollie was very quick to reassure you how excited he was and how much he wanted to help out.

‘Okay, I think we’re on board now’ Mason announced as he walked back in with Tilly on his hip. A smile on her face but her eyes were still red and watery so Mason sat her on the side so you could feed her some cake.

‘Tilly, my new book came today. Shall I read to you for a bit?’ Ollie asked, your heart melting at the way he wanted to cheer her up as Ollie reading to her was their thing. Whenever Tilly was on mad one or overwhelmed he’d often take her over to their little corner to calm down and your heart felt full as she toddled off with her hand in his.

‘So, another boy huh?’ Mason smiled as he came over to you. Resting his hands on your waist as you rested yours on his chest and you were thankful for a little bit of alone time with him.

‘Looks like it. And after two clones of you I’m hoping this one looks a little bit like me’ you told him before he kissed your forehead with a giggle.

‘Are you happy?’

‘Of course, as long as he's healthy I couldn’t care what they are,’ you told him softly and he nodded his head in agreement. ‘What did you say to Tilly?’

‘Told her it’s another boy to boss around. And that if she’s the only girl then she’ll always be my only princess’

‘What about me?’ you pouted, watching Mason roll his eyes but he was leaning down to kiss you just after.

You’d picked a few names out, but just like you’d done with Tilly you wanted to see him before you named him and once you had, the name Ryley seemed to fit him like a glove. Whilst you could tell he was Mason's boy you were constantly told how much he looked like you and it made your heart swell whenever you looked at him.

Tilly also came around as soon as she saw him. Almost bursting into tears at the way her little face softened at the sight of her new brother before she was looking up at you for permission to say hello to him and Ollie was just as perfect as ever with him.

A new baby meant a whole new routine though and lately it meant Ryleys feed came at bed time so Mason had to put the others to bed on his own. Usually he’d love this but clearly the novelty has worn off for Tilly and she was making it as difficult for him as possible.

Soon enough the noise died down. Mason telling Tilly that Ryley won’t want to stay with us if she’s too loud and she finally took the hint and got into bed. Letting Mason read her a very quick story before he went and said goodnight to Ollie with the house falling silent once more.

You felt Mason pop his head into the nursery soon after, his eyes and facial expression soft as he took you in but he couldn’t hide the deep blush on his cheeks. Eyes flicking down to your exposed chest as you fed Ryley and you could see he was debating whether or not he should come in but you nodded your head to motion for him to come over. Watching him carefully make his way over to the pair of you and when he was close enough you lifted your head in hopes he’d lean down and kiss you. Revealing in the feeling of his lips brushing against yours softly and you hummed in delight just before he pulled away.

‘You two alright in here?’ He asked quietly, crouching down so he could kiss Ryley’s head. Your heart fluttering at the adoring way he looked down at him before his gaze was locked on yours.

‘We’re okay. Are you okay?’ You laughed, referring to the nightmare he seemed to have just had with the others and you smiled as he rolled his eyes playfully.

‘Oh you heard that yeah?’ He laughed. ‘Unless you put Tilly to bed she’s a right pain in the arse’ he teased. ‘I love her but my god she’s a handful sometimes’

‘They don’t call her Tilly the tiny terror for nothing’ you winked. ‘You done good though sweet cheeks’

‘Thanks’ he laughed, rolling his eyes again. ‘I’m gonna go sort myself out but I’ll see you in our room in a bit, yeah? Take your time’

‘Okay’ you whispered and with one last heavy kiss to your lips he was making his way out.

You sat Ryley up not too long after so you could wind him. Knowing Mason hadn’t really got to see him all that much today and he’d be itching for a cuddle soon so you made your way back across the hall to your bedroom for some time for just the three of you.

You didn’t questione why the door to your bedroom was shut even though maybe you should have. He never usually shut it as it was harder for you to open with just one hand whilst carrying Ryley and you always kept it open just in case one of the kids needed you but you just shifted Ryley on your chest so he was over your left shoulder and pushed the door open.

You should have known there was a reason why he shut it. Walking around to be met with the sound of his loud breathing and when you rounded the corner and into his view you were shocked by the sight in front of you.

There he was laid on the bed, T-shirt riding high on his perfect body as his boxers had been shuffled down his thighs ever so slightly to free himself and even from the split second view you knew what he was doing as his hand moved up and down. A shocked gasp falling from your lips before you turned and you heard mason fumbling behind you.

‘Shit! Oh god, oh god no’

‘Mase, it’s okay’ you told him, slightly chuckling as you turned back around to face him but the look on his face made your heart drop.

His cheeks were redder than you’d ever seen them, a humiliated look plastered across his face no matter how much he tried to hide it and he looked on the brink of tears.

‘Masey, no don’t get upset it’s alright’

‘I need the bathroom-’

‘No wait’ you called, popping Ryley into his crib as quickly as you could before rushing over to him to stop him from hiding away in the en-suite for the rest of the night and thankfully you caught him before he was able to shut the door. ‘Come here baby, come and talk to me’

‘No I-‘

‘Mase, come on’ you interrupted, pulling him back to bed so you could sit on the edge with him in hopes he’d look at you. He was determined to keep looking down though so in the end you just held him tight and spoke into his hair. ‘It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed or anything. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before’

‘I thought I had more time’ he told you. Holding you tighter but you hated how down he sounded.

‘Look at me’ you whispered, letting him take his own time to gather himself before looking up at you shyly. ‘You don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s perfectly normal’

‘I know I just… it’s still embarrassing’ he laughed. ‘I feel like a teenager who’s just been caught. I just thought you’d be a bit longer with the little man and I’d have time. I haven’t wanted to ask for… you know. I wanted to wait until you’re ready and-‘

‘Who said I’m not ready’ you smiled. ‘I gave birth 8 weeks ago now so that’s two weeks over’

‘I know’ he smiled. I’m just worried that’s all’

‘Worried about what?’

‘I don’t wanna hurt you’ he whispered and your heart broke at his sad face. ‘Remember what happened after Tilly?’ He asked and you nodded solemnly.

It had been six weeks since Tilly had been born and you knew Mason was chomping at the bit to have you. You were too big and uncomfortable towards the end of your pregnancy so it had been months since you’d last been intimate and it was almost as if Mason was counting down the days.

Your night didn’t go as planned though. Unbenounced to you, you still weren’t fully ready and even though Mason had been gentle with you and you’d tried to push through it, it hurt too much and you’d ended up bursting into tears.

Mason felt awful, almost in tears himself as he tried to comfort you but you knew he was blaming himself when he shouldn’t be. In the end you took his face in your hands so you could pepper his cheeks with kisses but your heart was breaking as he repeatedly told you how sorry he was.

‘Masey it’s not your fault’ you told him quietly, but he wasn’t having any of it. Hiding his head into your neck for the rest of the night until the pair of you eventually fell asleep.

He was quiet with you but extra soft for a few days until you could talk it out and let him know it wasn’t his fault. You just had to wait an extra few weeks and everything would go back to normal.

You could see it in his eyes now that he was frightened so you pulled him closer and cupped his jaw so you could look at each other properly.

‘Tilly had a massive head baby’ you laughed. ‘She was a right pain to get out but I don’t feel like I did with Tilly. Ryley was a breeze compared to her and I’m all healed up now. There’s nothing to be afraid of’

‘Yeah?’ He smiled. His body relaxing in your arms as you reassured him everything was okay and the small smile on his lips made you feel a lot better.

‘Yeah, of course. In fact… what do you say we pop Ryley in his nursery for a bit so we can have some time for just us’

‘Wait, what?’ He whispered, his face looking slightly shocked but in all honestly your been craving some alone time with Mason yourself. ‘Are you sure?’

‘100%, Just give me a sec and I’ll be back’ you told him. Slightly untangling yourself from him so you could pick up Ryley and take him over to his nursery. You never left him in here at night but he had his naps in here all the time so you made sure the baby cam was set up properly before dropping a kiss on his head. ‘I’ll be back for you soon, little one. Just keep sleeping for me’ you whispered. Taking one last look before making your way back to Mason.

He was sitting on the bed facing the door when you got back and a sudden wave of anxiety rolled over you as soon as you shut the door. Your body had changed so much since he’d last seen it and you knew you were covered in stretch marks and still sagging in certain places so when he pulled you in between his legs you tried not to look him in the eye.

‘Baby? Everything alright?’ He asked, fingers delicately tracing the backs of your thighs and you just nodded and you pulled him into a hug.

‘I’m okay, just nervous’ you laughed awkwardly. ‘It’s been a while’

‘I know, love. We can go as slowly as you want to though, yeah?’

‘I know’ you smiled, kissing his forehead gently but he could still read your mind and sense how apprehensive you were.

‘And I don’t care what you think your body looks like now. You know that don’t you? I love you and I just wanna make you feel good’

‘I know, Mase’ you smiled, eyes filling at his sweet words. He’d said the same after both your other babies had been born but the words still hit you deep. You didn’t look like you used you, three babies would have an effect on anyone but Mason never cared. He took you as you were and only cared about looking after you, telling you you’d given him everything he’d ever wanted and he’d make sure he looked after you in whatever way you needed.

His hands were trailing all over your bare legs, touching wherever he could as his lips pressed kisses to your chest and you couldn’t help but giggle as he finally got to touch all the places he’d missed for the last few months.

‘What’s so funny?’ He smiled, pinching your bum gently as you steadied yourself but his cheeky smile was melting you.

‘We’ve been together for so many years now, had three kids together and you’re still as horny as ever’ you chuckled, wanting him to know how ridiculous you found him but deep down you knew you were just as bad.

‘That’s what happens when you’ve got the most beautiful wife in the world’ he told you. ‘You know I’ll never not want you. Even when we’re grey and wrinkly I’ll still think you’re hot as fuck’

‘If you’re trying to get me in the mood, talking about old people probably won’t help’ you told him, kneeling onto the mattress and his light laugh made you smile.

‘Noted’ he winked, shuffling back and inviting you to lay with him and once you were next to him he laid you back gently and kissed you with as much passion as he could muster.

He kissed you until you felt dizzy, your hands gripping at him where you could and when when you moaned into his mouth he rolled ontop on you so he could look directly down at you.

‘What do you want baby? You want my fingers?’

‘Mhmmm’

‘Yeah? You don’t sound so sure’ he teased but before you could protest he was talking again. ‘I think I know what you really want’

‘What’s that?’

‘You want my mouth, don’t you?’ He whispered lowly into you ear. The sound making you shiver and a gasp to fall from your lip at the sound of his dirty words. ‘Thought so’ he chuckled and before you knew it he was kissing down your neck as he grabbed the hem of your shirt.

You knew it was just Mason and he loved you no matter what, so you let him remove all your clothes as he placed kisses to your exposed skin. Pushing any nervous thoughts out of your head so on you could enjoy the feel of him again.

As soon as his lips touched where they needed to you felt yourself melt. Feeling like you were floating on clouds as he reminded you what you’d been missing out on for months as you tried your hardest to keep your moans at bay and not wake anyone. He made it difficult though. Getting back into the rhythm of things like he’d never been away and soon enough your fingers were getting tangled in his hair as he pushed you over the finish line.

‘Stop biting your lip, I wanna do that’ he laughed, as he made his way back up to your face. Kissing you so you could taste yourself and you let out quiet moan as he gently sunk his teeth into your bottom lip.

‘I’m trying to be quiet’ you laughed, lips against his as you spoke before he stole another kiss from you. Knowing he was ready and raring to go.

‘What do you want now baby?’

‘I want you. All of you,’ you told him. Watching a slight nervousness flicker through him and you wanted to reassure him straight away. Gripping the back of his neck so you could tug him back down for a kiss and as he got into it you began to undress him until you were both naked and needy for each other.

You knew he was watching you the whole time as he pushed his way inside of you. Your face contorting in pleasure as he took his time before bending down to press gentle kisses over your face.

‘Is that okay?’ He whispered, moving his hips slowly so you could adjust to him but you were already seeing stars after not feeling him for so long and all you could muster was a nod. ‘Yeah?’ Breathed, a sense of relief laced through his voice and you nodded as you tried to reassure him further.

‘Yes masey, keep doing that’ you moaned, louder than you’d intended to but it all felt so intense and you knew mason was feeling it too.

‘Should I slow down?’

‘No, just like that’ you sighed. Reaching up to grab his shoulders so you had something to steady yourself but also because you wanted to feel his skin under yours.

‘You wonder why I still can’t keep my hands off of you?’ He moaned, pulling up so he could hold you at your waist and take a bit more control. ‘Fucking look at you, you’re unreal’

‘Mase-‘

‘I know gorgeous. I’m with you, just let go for me’ he told you and you did exactly as he said. Letting him coax you through it until you were spent and he was flopping down gently next to you.

Sometimes you felt like this was your favourite bit. Laying skin to skin with your man as he gently stroked your back and you couldn’t help but nuzzle into him more as you made every second count. You’d missed these moments with him and from the way he was holding you close you knew he’d missed it too.

‘You okay?’ He whispered after a while. Feeling your eyes growing heavier as he lulled you to sleep but you looked up at him with a soft smile as he kissed your nose.

‘I’m perfect’

‘I didn’t hurt you at all did I?’ He questioned quietly but you shook your head so he knew you were fine straight away.

‘I promise you, I’m absolutely fine’ you told him. Pecking his lips softly before sighing. ‘I’m so comfy but I need to go and get Ryley. I don’t like leaving him in there alone for too long’

‘Stay there, okay? I’ll go get little man’ he reassured you. Kissing your head gently before untangling himself from you so he could get dressed and grab your boy.

You got dressed too whilst he was gone and you were just pulling your top over your head as he walked back in with Ryley cuddled into his chest. Your heart thumping at the way they were together and no matter when or where, watching Mason with a tiny human always made your knees weak.

‘Come on boys, mumma needs a cuddle’ you laughed. Jumping up onto the bed and letting Mason pass you Ryley before he laid next to you. His head on your chest as Ryley laid on the other side and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking down at Mason and seeing how happy he was to have some time with Ryley. ‘You okay, Mase?’

‘I’m better than okay’ he smiled, reaching up to give you a quick peck before nuzzling back down into your neck. ‘Thank you for everything, I never thought I could be this happy’

You didn’t have the words for him. Your eyes filling with tears as you kissed his temple but inside you were agreeing with him wholeheartedly. You too never thought you could ever be this happy but as you thought about where you were right now and who you were with, you knew right now your life and your family were complete.

Thank you so much for reading 🩷 I really hoped you enjoyed it and I’d love if you could leave me some feedback if you fancy it 😘

[sinofwriting]

So Many Reasons - Ollie Bearman

Words: 3,343 Summary: She honestly just wants to go to these two races to see her brother so he won’t complain about never seeing her anymore that is it. She has exams, an internship, and a job, she doesn’t have time for any of this. Note(s): Thank you V once again for commissioning the fic! I had a lot of fun writing it and may or may not have spent an hour researching different business degrees and universities and such. Reader is Andrea Kimi Antonelli’s older sister. Age gap of 3 years between her and Ollie. Not good family dynamics between her and Kimi and their father.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Andrea, no.” Her voice is firm, perhaps harsh but she doesn’t care. She was tired, hungry, and had to stay up for at least another six hours. Her last red bull in her bag sounded better every second. “C’mon, sorella. It is my first F2 race. You can miss a few classes.” Her jaw clenches and she forces herself to take a deep breath. Thank god this was just a phone call. “No, Andrea. I can’t. I have exams.” “Ask for an extension.” “Andrea,” she snaps. “Does padre know you are asking me this?” His voice is quiet, “no.” She sighs, pushing away her work. “How is your school work going?” “It’s fine.” “And the sim?” “Good.”

It’s quiet between the two siblings.

“It’s been months since we last saw each other. Do you not miss me?” “We saw each other at Christmas.” She reminds him but softens. “Of course I do. But I’m busy. I can’t take a few days away to go to a race, at least not one that’s not in Europe.” She looks at her planner, at the days blocked out with different colors. Purple for exams, blue for classes, yellow for work, green for work and classes, the dreaded orange for when she had both exams and work. It was filled for days, weeks, and months. “I could maybe make it for Imola.” She’d have to talk to her professors, put in her time now for work, but she didn’t have any exams the day after his feature race. “Maybe even Monaco if you can get me a spare pass.” She shouldn’t go to Monaco, not with her final exams to obtain her MBA starting just the day after the race, but she didn’t have any work those days and she could always bring her books with her. “Really?” She smiles at the excitement in his voice. “Really. Are you sure you want your big sister around?” “Yes. It will be nice to have family in the paddock. Someone other than dad.” She hums, eyes widening as they catch the time. “Let me know about the passes for the different races, okay? As soon as you get them I’ll talk to my professors.” “I will.” “Bye Andrea.” “Bye.”

—

“Mr. Garcia?” She knocks on the door frame. “You asked to see me?” He smiles, beckoning her in. “Yes. Please sit.” He gestures at the chairs in front of his desk before quickly typing something. She sits down, smoothing the fabric of her skirt. “I wanted to talk to you about your plans after you get your MBA.” “I’d like to get a travel position or be able to work remotely half of the time. Then I think after ten years of doing that, I’d like to take a bigger account or two.” He hums, looking at her consideringly. “Why the travel position?” “I like traveling, going to different places, and when I went once before with Maria, I liked what she had to do.” “You're also good with languages.” “Yes.” “And the hybrid?” She fidgets a little. “The same reasons really as the travel position and I like the extended hours.” His lips twitch into a smile, “Maria hated remote.” She nods.

“She said you’d be suited for it.” Her leg that had started to bounce stops. He leans forward, “I’d like to keep you on. I know that your internship with Maria ends the first week of May. And that you’re only supposed to continue to work with us until August. But I’d like to offer you the remote position, starting June 20th.” She looks at him with a slight open mouth. “What,” she clears her throat. “What exactly would that look like?” He pushes forward a folder. “All of the details are in there, but there are two important things. There will only be a few days every month that require you in the office. Those days are always made known at least two weeks in advance, some as much as six months.” She nods. “The second is you will have strict deadlines. Miss two within a three month period and you will be on probation, meaning that for a time you will be spending at least eighty hours in office for the month, until your probation is up. Look over all the details and get back to me next week.” “Of course.” Taking the folder, she stares at it before standing. “Thank you, Mr. Garcia.” “Of course, Ms. Antonelli.”

—

“Andrea!” She calls, seeing him looking around. His head turns to look at her, a large grin taking over his face. “Sorella!” He calls, jogging over to her. “You made it.” She rolls her eyes, pushing him away when he tries to give her a hug. “I told you two weeks ago I’d make it to Imola. It’s not my fault, you don’t listen.” She touches her ears before giving him a quick hug. “How are you feeling?” “Good.” She hums, following him as he leads her to what she assumes is Prema’s space for this race.

The good was false that was more than clear to see, if she wasn’t his sister, she’d know just by looking at the F2 races so far. Round four with no podiums? Or pole position. Her brother was surely smarting. She wondered if it had hit him yet that he wasn’t the most talented driver in this series yet.

Entering the Prema garage she smiles when Rene immediately greets her.

“How are you?” “I’m good. Very good. How are you? How is Angelina?” “I am good, I’m sure you saw the Indycar news.” She nods, watching as Andrea starts talking to either a mechanic or an engineer. “I did. It sounds amazing.” “Very amazing. And Angelina, well,” He pauses, turning his head and calling her over.

“Oh, Y/N.” “Angelina.” She greets back, melting into the hug the older woman gives. “How are you doing?” “I’m doing good. And you are well?” “Of course, it is the season.” She smiles at her, knowing all too well how much everyone loved the motorsport season.

“Kimi!” Angelina calls and she has to stop herself from flinching at the use of his nickname. “You did not tell me that your sister was coming.” He shrugs, “She’s coming next race as well.” “You are coming to Monaco?” She shrugs, adjusting her purse. “It’s my last free time before my exams and Andrea asked when I was going to come.” Rene and Angelina share a look but before either can say anything, someone interrupts.

“Angelina, Dino and Antonio are wondering about the next shoot.” The older woman sighs, “And neither of them could get me themselves.” He shoots her a grin, and it’s the sight of his grin that makes her realize that this is Andrea’s teammate. “I volunteered.” Angelina shakes her head, muttering under her breath but leaves the small group.

“Ah, Ollie, this Y/N. Y/N, this is Ollie.” Rene introduces. She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You as well. Are you new to the team?” “No.” She laughs, pulling her hand from his. “Just a guest for this race and next.” “Oh.” He looks at Rene questioningly, but the older man is already in conversation with other people. “I could give you a tour, if you’d like.” “You don’t need to do that.” He smiles, giving a small shrug with his shoulders. “I don’t mind.” “Don’t you have race prep?” She can see just behind him, Andrea talking to another two people, their heads all gathered around a tablet. “I finished mine already.” Her lips purse. “At least let me get you a coffee from Ferrari’s hospitality.” Her nose nearly wrinkles at the word coffee, but Ferrari… She wasn’t into motorsports by choice, but she was Italian. She knew the allure of Ferrari and more so now Charles Leclerc than the team itself better than anyone. “So, coffee?” He grins. She sighs but nods. “Just one though.” She doesn’t think she could stomach another one.

“You don’t like coffee do you?” He asks nearly twenty minutes later as she sips at the coffee he got her and she chooses not to think too hard about the money she tried to hand him that he refused. “No.” She laughs. “But you like Ferrari.” “I’m Italian, Ollie. I think I get kicked out of the country, especially this part if I don’t bleed rosso corsa.” “Yet your brother is a Mercedes junior.” She pauses, “My brother?” His eyebrows furrow. “I’m sorry, it’s just Kimi, he has a picture of you. I asked about it once, because I already knew what his girlfriend looked like.” “I didn’t know that.” She wondered when the picture was from. Not from this Christmas, that was for sure. Ollie stares at her for a few seconds, something dancing in his eyes before turning the conversation back around. “It is a bit funny isn’t it? An Italian choosing Mercedes, while an Englishman chooses Ferrari.” “A second Charles Leclerc in the making.” She muses, remembering an article that said it. He flushes red. “I wouldn’t say that.” She shrugs, “Then other people will for you.”

Her phone buzzing makes her look away and she rolls her eyes at the text from Andrea. “I have to go back, Andrea is looking for me. Thank you for the coffee.” He nods, standing with her. “No problem.” He then opens his mouth again, quickly closing it. She raises an eyebrow and he flushes a bit more. “Could I get your number?” “Ah.” She glances down at her phone, another text on the screen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” She can think of a million reasons. “It’s just not a good idea.” She settles on. “What if I want it as a friend?” She sends him a look and he grins. “I could do friends.” She shakes her head, “I need to go. Thank you again.” “Anytime.”

—

“You're at a race.” “Padre.” She greets, watching the screens as the sprint race goes into its fifth lap. “Andrea asked me to come.” “You don’t like races.” Her lips thin. “No, I don’t. But he wanted to see me, I made time.” “Have you made time for the interview I want scheduled?” “No.” He starts to say her name and she shakes her head. “No, padre. I’m here for Andrea, to see him. Just like I will be for Monaco, that is it. I have no interest in working for you.” “For the family.” “Or that.” He sighs.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she winces at the way Andrea gets overtaken, can already imagine the way he’ll beat himself up over it if he doesn’t regain the position, especially with the way Ollie is in P2, no battle in sight, as he more than comfortably keeps the place.

An arm wraps around her shoulders and she easily goes into her fathers side. “I miss my little girl.” She bites back on the words that want to crawl from her throat. “Love you too.”

—

“So,” she startles at the sound of a voice and the owner of it grins. “You don’t like coffee.” “Hello, Ollie.” “Hi.” He greets back. “You don’t like coffee.” He repeats. “I don’t like coffee.” She can’t help but smile at the way he grins at her responding to him. “What about,” he pauses looking around, before leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Red bull?” “I’m listening.”

She has to stop herself from giggling as Ollie leads her through Ferrari’s garage. She really shouldn’t be here. And not just because she shouldn’t even be at the race.

Stopping in front of a door, she watches as Ollie knocks, sending her a grin as he does.

“Hello?” The voice is a little confused. “Ollie! Come in, come in.” And Ollie grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers as he pulls her into the room with him. “Hi Charles.” Her eyes widen at the name and she quickly schools her expression though neither are looking at her. “What are you doing here?” Ollie grins at the older man. “I wanted to introduce you to someone and raid your fridge.” Charles rolls his eyes. “At least you don’t ask permission anymore.”

The tease makes her stiffen, this was a lot more than she felt she should be seeing or hearing.

“No, I learned.” Ollie laughs and then he’s tugging her closer. “Charles, this is Y/N.” A bit of tension leaves her when he doesn’t say her last name. “Y/N, this is Charles.” “Bonjour.” She greets, keeping her free hand firmly by her side as she wiggles her fingers in Ollie’s hand, but he just brushes his thumb over her knuckles. Charles’ eyes brighten at the greeting. “Bonjour. Est-ce un accent italien que j'entends?” (“Hello. Is that an Italian accent I hear?”) “Oui. Je suis italienne et je vis actuellement en France.” (“Yes. I am Italian currently living in France.) His grin widens. “Oh, très bien. Votre français est bon.” (“Oh, very nice. Your French is good.”) She ducks her head. “Merci.” (“Thank you.”)

“I didn’t know you spoke French.” Ollie says. She gives him a look. It should make his smile falter a little, but it only grows. “An Italian living in France. A bit uncommon, no?” Charles asks, handing her then Ollie a Red Bull. Before grabbing one for himself. “I study there.” “What are you studying?” Ollie asks, “Ki,” he stops himself. “Andrea never said.” Her eyes narrow at the catch, wondering why exactly he did it. “Accounting. And I’m not surprised. If it’s not something racing related, my brother has no interest.” Charles laughs. “I think Lorenzo and you would get along well. Having siblings that live and breath racing while you don’t.” “Maybe.” “Are you close to getting your degree?” “I am actually. My final exams start Monday.” “And you came to the Monaco Grand Prix?” Charles’ eyes are wide. “Yes.” “My goodness.” He looks at Ollie, winking at him. “This one is a keeper.” “Oh,” she says, feeling blood rush to her cheeks and Ollie is turning pink. “We aren’t.” He shrugs, taking a drink of his red bull. “Maybe not yet.” His eyes then fall to their still intertwined fingers and she gives another tug to Ollie’s hand, expecting him now to let go, but he doesn’t. “No, not yet.”

—

“What race are you coming to next?” Her hand tingles at the sound of Ollie’s voice. “I’m not.” “What?” She turns to face him. “Andrea wanted me at the first race of the season, but I couldn’t make it, so I said I’d come to these two.” She doesn’t mention that the want of her coming was because he apparently missed her. She had her doubts about that, especially after this weekend. “You don’t think he’ll ask you to come again?” She looks around, seeing no one nearby, she sighs. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t come. I love my brother, but not on race weekends, not during the season. I’ve seen you more than him.” Ollie’s face that had looked shocked, turns to understanding. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.” She shrugs. “He’s busy.” Ollie looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

Instead he leans a bit closer, “so, could I get your number now?” She laughs, shaking her head. “No. Still not happening.” “Oh, c’mon. I won today. This is the one thing I want as the Monaco F2 feature race winner.” She shakes her head. “Maybe, if you actually wanted it as a friend. I’d say yes.” “And why can’t we be more than friends?” He’s closer now somehow and she has to swallow around the lump in her throat. “Ollie,” Her name spills from his lips in a gentle sigh as he leans ever closer. “We can’t.” She whispers, hand against his chest, holding him place. “Why? Give me one good reason why.”

He’s guiding her backwards, down the short hallway and into a room that’s thankfully empty, the door shutting behind him.

“One good reason.” “You’re Andrea’s teammate.” “For nine more weekends.” She lets out a shaky breath, watching as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m busy with school and work.” “You have final exams this week, which you’ll pass. And I’m busy with work as well.” “You're younger than me. I’m twenty-two, you just turned nineteen.” He shrugs, her eyes following the strong line of shoulders with the movement. “I’m an adult. And I like you.” “Ollie.” She breathes. He’s closer than ever before, their lips nearly brushing. “I’m still waiting.” Her eyes scan his face, his words full of confidence, his body too, but he’s flushed and his nervousness is easy to read. And she delivers the reason that has to make him see reason. Because she doesn’t know if he stays this close to her if she can stop herself from kissing him. “Your parents,” his throat bobs. “Would never approve.” He looks at her and she looks back, holding her breath, waiting for him to back away but he doesn’t, and god when does Ollie ever do things she expects. “They don’t need to.” He whispers and then he’s kissing her.

—

“What are you talking about?” “Andrea,” “No.” He stops her, shaking her head. “What do you mean, you are seeing Oliver?” He spits the name out. “Don’t, Andrea.” “NO!” His face is red and she’s reminded of the times when he wanted candy that she had and threw a fit over not getting it instead. “He is, he is,” he shakes his head. “I don’t even know what he is. He is my teammate, he works in motorsports, you hate motorsports.” She keeps quiet, watching as her brother processes the news. “He is younger than you, barely older than me. And you.” He shakes his head again. “Does padre know?” She scoffs, now shaking her head. “Does padre know? That’s all you care about isn’t it. If our father approves or not, if you knows what he thinks, because heaven forbid Kimi,” he flinches at the name. “You think for yourself.” “That is not.” “Don’t.” She cuts him off. “Yes, he knows. Don’t worry he disapproves as well. So, you don’t have to think for yourself again.”

She stares at her younger brother, knowing that this is her fault, but she can’t, she still doesn’t have it in her to deal with it, not today. “I will talk to you sometime, Andrea.”

—

“Your fans are lovely.” Ollie makes a humming sound, half asleep. She pauses her scrolling on twitter, unable to stop herself from liking the picture of Charles’ dog in his own personal little car. “Your fans. Very creative as well. They can’t call me a gold digger, but a fame seeker? Well, if the shoe fits.” “They what?” He sounds so much more awake, it makes her laugh. “It’s just hate, Ollie. I’m an old woman praying on the young. Apparently I’m like Piquet.” “Ew.” And she can picture his nose wrinkling. “You know you aren’t though right?” “An old woman?” She jokes. “A predator.” She softens, turning in his arms, so that they are chest to chest. “I know.” “I mean, really if anything I was.” “You were very insistent.” He flushes. “Only a little.” She nods, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Only a little.”

“I know we talked about it before, but are you okay with everything?” “Yes. I mean, it hurts that Andrea is still not okay with it but my father’s opinion has not mattered to me in a long time. And no matter what the media and fans were never going to give us peace, so I made my peace with that as well. Besides, your parents are okay with it.” “They love you.” “Our friends are understanding.” “They are.” “And you aren’t about to dedicate any more podiums to me.” He grins at her and dread starts to form in her stomach. “Ollie…” “About that last one.” “Ollie!”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man- Part Four// W.W.

Warnings/Info: cursing, fluff, lots of Wonka whimsy, Willy liking pregnancy boobs

It worked. Everything went according to plan, and your husband has no reason to believe that he wasn’t the father of your baby.

With time, your belly started to grow more and more, and luckily, so did Willy’s chocolate sales.

You were about four months along in your pregnancy when Willy gave you the news that he had bought the chocolate shoppe. He was beaming with glee and you were overjoyed for him. You wanted to help him, so you said, “How about I come and work for you?”

“Oh, no no, no heavy lifting for you, or being on your feet for hours.” he said firmly as he caressed your belly.

“Not even just as the cashier, Willy? I haven’t had a job in years since I’ve been a wife. I’d love to get back out into the world again. And be with you, of course. I’ll keep a stool nearby to sit in if I get tired, if that would make you feel better.”

Willy sighed, then he grinned at you, “Okay, you can work the register. I know that I can count on you. You did promise to help run the business side of things.” He took your hands in his, “Things are happening, y/n. I’ve saved enough money to not only to but the shoppe, but also to rent an apartment nearby. I know it won’t be as spacious and comfortable as what you’re used to, but this is just the beginning. I want you to live with me. And if things keep going the way they have been, you’ll be living like a Queen, and our baby will be the prince or princess of the Wonka chocolate empire.” Willy had put his forehead on yours.

"Oh, Willy, you have already made me the happiest woman in the world. I just know that you-that we will have everything we dream of, I'm happy to work hard, and to be with you and our child."

You and Willy were so absorbed in one another and your daydreaming, that you didn't even hear the front door of your home open.

"What. The. Fuck?" it was your husband, home early and unexpectedly from work.

You and Willy looked over at Mr. Hudson, both in shock. You didn’t know what to say.

“John, how-"

“What a fine day this is, huh? I come home with a sniffle to find my wife with the fucking…chocolate salesman?”

“John, it’s, it’s not what you-well it is actually…”

“That’s it, y/n! Tell me what the hell is going on here.” he yelled, approaching you, towering over you with his height, and actively trying to intimidate you. This was the side of him only you saw.

“John,” you trembled, “this baby isn’t yours, it’s his. I’m in love with him.”

“Ha, well you can go ahead and be in love in the streets for all I care. Get your clothes and get the hell out of my house.”

You were scared, not necessarily of John, but to leave the only home you knew. You were glad that John didn’t say or do anything to Willy.

Willy was with you as you packed, and he held your hand on the way out of the house. You thought that maybe it was a good thing that this has happened now, rather than drag it out any further.

“Alright well, let’s go check out that apartment.” Willy said in his cheery voice to help make you feel better. You knew that you were going to be happy with this man, no matter what.

You were able to close on an apartment that day, well, Willy was, as you didn’t have an income yet. But that soon changed as you went to work together in the chocolate shoppe. Within days of opening, you were making good money.

You balanced the cash drawers, and the accounting books as Willy worked hard on his sweet creations. The candy he made was as tasty as ever, and the shoppe was an absolute dream. Hoverchocs, giraffe milk macaroons, edible flowers, and lollipops as far as the eye could see. It was a whimsical, colorful, joy to behold, with a giant winding cherry tree in the middle of the shoppe. There were pink cotton Candy clouds that you could climb upon, you and Willy would sit on them and have some chocolate milk, and then eat the tea cups.

It was the most fun you’d ever had in your life. It also felt amazing to help build something from essentially nothing, and to be creative with him.

Even at home, Willy would be inventing new flavors and trying new techniques and asking for your input of course.

...........

As you went into the later months of your pregnancy, you and Willy were able to buy a house. It was no mansion, but it was big enough to accommodate a young couple and their new baby, and maybe another child down the road.

You would be at the shoppe all day, resting adequately, of course. Willy eventually gave you an office in the back room to do your accounting work, which was good for you as you were heavily pregnant, but you started to miss being out front with customers. But you knew that once the baby arrived, things would be back to normal soon.

In the evenings, your tired Willy would rest his head on your big, basketball-sized belly and sing to our unborn baby. "Come with me, and you'll be in a woorrld of pure imagination." His voice was like that of an angel, soft and soothing. You could tell that your baby was relaxed by their father's voice, because he would lull you to sleep with his sweet lullabies after a long day in the office.

You started to set up the nursery together, and it was of course candy themed, much like your chocolate shoppe. Willy had lollipop raddles and candy cane-shaped teething rings made for the baby, among lots of other colorful accessories that resembled the sweet treats that were sold in the shoppe.

Above the baby's crib was a mobile made special by Willy, they were smaller versions of the pink cotton candy clouds that hung in the shoppe. Everything was absolutely adorable, and it made your heart swell with happiness.

After looking around the baby's room, you hugged your chocolatier, "Oh Willy, I'm so happy." you nuzzled against his shirt collar as he hugged you tightly. "I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Me either, my darling." he said, kissing you on the head, and then looked at you, "But I have to say that I'll miss your boobs being so big." He then eyed the large mounds on your chest.

You laughed, "You are a typical man, Willy Wonka. You can still use them as pillows after I have the baby."

"I know, but they're just so squishy right now-" he gently cupped your breasts through your shirt, "like marshmallows, or pudding."

"Okay, okay, you better stop before you get too excited, Willy." you giggled, kissing him.

Everything in your new home came together so beautifully, and your tried to enjoy it as much as possible, even though you were incredibly tired, and your body was swollen from head to toe. Your belly had grown much bigger than you ever would have expected.

Willy was wonderful during your whole pregnancy, but he was especially attentive to you in the last month. He would make you dinner after work, and no matter how tired he might have been, he never let on to his exhaustion. He would even massage your feet before bed. His sweetness and generosity never wavered.

.......

The day finally came: the day that you and Willy became parents. He was by your side throughout the entire birthing process, encouraging you and thanking you for giving him a child. He told you he loved you over and over, and wiped the sweat off of your forehead.

Your midwife was stunned after you had your baby, because she noticed another baby coming.

A/n: I hope you all are having a great Christmas season and have a safe and happy new year! The next chapter should be better than this one. lol

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey

[speakergame]

Progress Update - 3/4/24

Hello and happy March!

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? 😅 Well, I finally have some good news for you this time: I have some actual news!

I'm happy to be able to announce at last that an update is on its way! I’ve still got some assets to make and code cleanup and testing to finish, but I should finally have something to show you soon.

I’ll put a cut at the end of this and go into more detail about the what and why of what I’ve been working on during this long and unintended hiatus, but the tl;dr is that I hope to have an update out by the end of the month, and that said update will break any saves made in Chapter 4. Unfortunate, but unavoidable, since Chapter 4 had to be recoded from the beginning 😞

I just want to thank all of you once again for sticking with me through my extended silence! Especially to my patrons who’ve put up with me putting everything on pause month after month while I dealt with my real life shit, and to everyone who’s sent me kind and supportive messages to let me know Speaker hasn’t been forgotten. It really means a lot to me.

Okay, enough of that sappy shit! I’m gonna get back to work finishing this up 😁 I’ll put out another update later this month once I have a more definite release date.

Thank you all for reading! I hope you’re having a fantastic 2024 so far, and that the rest of the week treats you kindly. See y’all soon! 💙💙💙

(For those who want a more detailed breakdown on what’s been happening and what to expect, hit the readmore)

I won’t go into the personal life stuff I’ve been dealing with this past year that has slowed down my work, but as far as the actual game goes: 

To put it simply, I just wasn’t happy with it. Some of it could be because of how many times I had to reread the same section while I was coding the scenes that would’ve taken place after the last update, but no matter how much I edited or rearranged it, I didn’t like how that scene turned out. There was something… formulaic that had been happening with the way I always laid out scenes, and a bit of stagnation in the story, character, and relationship development that bothered me.

So I rewrote it. And when I still didn’t like it, I rewrote it again. And I still didn’t like it. I thought about scrapping the whole thing on more than one occasion as I struggled to get out of the corner I’d written myself into.

Inspiration finally struck at the beginning of this year, thanks in part to another interactive novel I follow, and I really like the direction I’ve taken it now. 

Instead of the RO split scenes happening where the last one left off, Speaker, Seer, and Gavin are gonna have a chat about Things™ to move the next story arc forward. Then Speaker will get some downtime, by themself at first and then in an extended scene split with the RO of their choosing. 

All the Big Plot Things that were going to happen in Chapter 4 will be moved to Chapter 5 instead, and 4 will be a bit more of a filler episode. A deep breath before the plunge, as it were.

This split won’t just be a quick conversation/reaction from the RO, but a full on different direction for the rest of the chapter based on who you choose. Most of them will involve leaving the house; all of them will involve actual one-on-one time (or one-on-two time, as the case may be) away from the others. And though romance isn’t required, all of them will have the potential to really move the romance forward if you so choose. One or two might even have a lock-in choice (maybe. I’m not 100 percent on that, so don’t hold me to it) 

These scenes won’t be in the next update, because they’re all very complex, but the update will definitely have the Seer chat and at least some of the by-yourself stuff. The update after will have the rest of the alone time stuff (including the clothes/body CC you’ve all been waiting for), and then the one after will start the RO scenes. I think.

I may actually split the RO scenes into separate updates, and let my darlings over at Patreon vote for the order they’re released. That way I can focus on one at a time instead of trying to split my attention six ways at once.

Okay, that’s enough rambling for me today. Time to get back to work! Still got a lot to get done before this is ready, but it’s so close now.

[indierpgnewsletter]

There's Other Kinds Of GM Advice: Theatricality versus Transparency

(This first appeared on the Indie RPG Newsletter)

I find that broadly there are at least two kinds of GM advice – and they have a very different philosophy underpinning them.

The first kind of advice aims at all costs to maintain verisimilitude. It’s a solution that you can implement without breaking the players’ immersion in their characters. This can just be stuff like Matt Colville explaining that if your players are taking too long discussing plans, guess what, orcs attack! We’ve all probably played a game where people were going in circles and not able to decide what to do. If it looks like we’re not able to decide, we’re probably going to be relieved if the GM makes something happen to break the deadlock and prompt us back into the action.

(Historically, this kind of thing was taken to egregious lengths like Gary Gygax saying if players start acting uppity, have a rock fall on their head. It’s mostly gone now but reddit tells me that Cyberpunk Red which came out relatively recently still says something similar.)

The second flavor of advice involves breaking character and talking to your players directly. I know “talk to your players” is a mantra repeated so often that autocorrect suggests it as soon as you type the letter t. At its worst, this advice is vague and unhelpful. We’ve all considered talking frankly to people in our lives, we just find it awkward and hard and annoying. But, but, but – at its best, just describing the problem as you see it and escalating it from a character discussion to a player discussion will make it go away instantly. Like magic. (If you’re not sure what that means: In a previous issue, I discussed Jason Tocci’s excellent advice on escalating conversation in this way.)

And since the theatrical flavour of advice has the weight of history on its side and transparent advice keeps getting boiled down to mantra form, I thought I’d write down some examples of situations and some alternative ways to handle them:

Situation 1: The players are marines discussing whether to dive into the alien lair and recover their stolen engine (their main goal) or go and see if another missing team of marines is okay. There is only 45 minutes left and this is a one shot.

Theatrical: The other marines suddenly come on the radio and say, “hey we’re okay, please complete the mission.”

Transparent: “Hey, folks. There’s 45 minutes left. If we don’t do the alien lair now, we won’t be able to do it at all. Is that fine?”

Situation 2: The players are low-level fantasy nobodies who have a famous wizard friend. They’re about to tangle with some medium-level bad guy and decide to call in their wizard friend.

Theatrical: When the players try to contact her via a telepathic phone call / spell, she sounds breathless and says she’s busy doing something way more important like fighting a dragon.

Transparent: “Hey, folks. If we get the wizard in, she’ll absolutely make this fight a cakewalk. We won’t even need to roll initiative really. Is that what you want? Or would we rather have a fun fight?”

Situation 3: The players were having fun exploring when they meet a cool NPC (an android! an elf! an android elf!) who has this interesting backstory with an urgent, earth-shattering hook. They go along with the android elf because it seems more important but immediately look like they’re having less fun.

Theatrical: Narrate how the android elf meets a group of other android elves and have the elf say, “Hey, now that I have these folks helping me, you can leave it you want!”

Transparent: “Hey, folks. Talking to you as players here, do we want to stick with this whole android elf plot here? It does mean that we won’t do any open-ended exploration. Which would you prefer?” If they want to ditch the elf plot, you could just retcon it entirely or do the theatrical solution.

All of these situations have happened at my table. They’re all relatively low stakes and I think whichever way you handle it, it’ll probably be fine. But that said, some situations absolutely work better when done transparently so if you’ve never tried the transparent way, give it a shot. If immersion matters a lot to you, try it at the end of the session.

/End

PS. The theatrical options often still require the players to willingly suspend their disbelief and go with it. If a player didn’t play along, they might just say “I thought their radios weren’t working, otherwise we could’ve just contacted them before. Why can they suddenly contact us now?” or “Oh, the wizard is fighting a dragon right now. We can totally wait. There’s no reason we need to fight the bad guy right now.” And sometimes I can’t shut off that part of my brain either so I won’t judge. But if there’s a way to sidestep that situation even coming up, I’m going to take it every time.

[dira333]

Soul-Food - Osamu x Reader

Enemies to lovers - Requested by @notsochillnerd - with Atsumu as a terrible wingman who just wanted to check out his brothers' nemesis...

There is only one thing more annoying than Miya Osamu with his cooking talent, excellent marks, and unfairly good looks: his twin brother Atsumu.

“No.” You say again, arms filled with produce. He’s in your way and he’s not even sorry about it.

“Come oooon!” He whines, draping himself over the railing of the stairs as if this is a photoshoot for some perfume. “I’m so hungry! And Osamu won’t cook for me! I’ll even pay you!”

“Wow, now I want to do it even less, knowing you might not have paid me in the first place.” You snark, patience wearing thin.

“Now get out of my way, I need to get to my room.”

“To do what?” He steps to the side, but his face remains close to yours. You’re not the fastest as it is, even less when carrying that many vegetables. 

“I need to cook.”

“Perfect.” His grin is so wide, it could split his face. “You cook, I’ll eat.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

You hesitate, if only for a second. But Atsumu is like a shark and that was the single drop of blood that he needed.

Half an hour later he’s sitting at the little table in your apartment. 

Your kitchen isn’t spacious, but equipped with everything you could possibly need - there’s a reason this school costs an arm and a leg each year. And Miya Osamu got the scholarship instead of you.

You wouldn’t have any problem with it if not for your father breathing down your neck. He’s got the money to send you here twice if he wanted to, but in his twisted mind, a 100% is barely a passing grade and you should have been able to win the scholarship, monetary status be damned.

“What are you making?” Atsumu asks from behind you.

“Udon.”

“Why is it black?” 

“I’m using Sepia.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.” You snap back, hoping against hope that he will fall quiet. He doesn’t. 

-

You’ve spent almost a year in a class with Osamu.

He might not always get a better mark than you, but he quickly figured out how much you hated it when he did. There’s nothing worse than someone else gloating over your loss.

The teachers love him and tolerate you. 

So far they’ve been kind enough not to put the two of you into a group project, or maybe they just played it safe. The sheer bloodlust you feel when he grins in your direction must have tipped them off.

But this year is going to end soon and your teachers expect you to come up with a dish. Your own creation, not unlike the dish you had to make for your entry exam. This time, however, it’s supposed to showcase what you want to do, going forward.

You can’t bring the same thing you made for your entry exam, even though it was perfect and a delight - you made it roughly one hundred times before. 

Your father has always been a fan of the Kaiseki Ryori and while you had loved taking part in the Haute Cuisine as a child, feeling grown up as you nibbled on tiny bites of expensive food, it has lost its appeal on you.

After all, there’s a set number of times you can eat a meal, even Chawanmushi, before you get sick of it.

“Hello? Are you still listening?” Nuisance number 2 asks behind you and you flinch, staring down at the dough that you kneaded for too long. 

“What’s Osamu doing for his exam?” You ask, feeling a little guilty about your attempt at spying.

“Why do you want to know?”

Nevermind. Now you only feel annoyed.

“Just because. Maybe I want to talk about something other than you.”

You move to throw the dough out, only to be stopped by Atsumu’s voice.

“What are you doing?”

“I messed it up. It’s not going to taste good.”

“So what? I’m hungry.”

“You want to eat gross noodles?” You eye him warily, but he shrugs with a grin.

“It’s definitely going to be better than what I’d produce myself. But since I hate cooking, I’d probably just get takeout pizza anyway.”

“Aren’t you an athlete?”

“Yeah?”

“And they let you eat Pizza?”

“They don’t know. Or they don’t care. Whatever you like better. I mean, they gave me a list of stuff I should keep away from but that’s like, all the food I usually consume.”

“Here.” You pull out a pen and paper. “Write down what you eat in a day. Snacks included. And drinks.”

“Why?”

“If I have to endure your chatting, you might as well get something out of this. Now, shoo!”

You turn, lid of your composter already open when his voice reaches you.

“DON’T THROW AWAY THE DOUGH!”

“Fine!” You snap. “You can eat your disgusting noodles!”

They don’t taste that awful in the end, not with your delicate sauce with mussels and steamed broccoli that turned out so good Atsumu licks his plate clean.

-

You’d been part of the track club in Middle School, switched to Volleyball in High School because they had fewer practice hours per week. Your marks had always been more important than any side activities, your future as a part of Haute Cuisine decided before you could walk. But it had been fun, especially when Coach gathered you after practice to talk about the importance of self-care. How certain foods could make or break you. How important salt and minerals were for your body, how food was more than calories, protein, carbs, and fat.

You’re not even a little bit rusty when you scribble down a meal plan for him. You keep it easy and as cheap as possible, light on the cooking because you figured he must be the opposite of his twin in the kitchen if he came begging for food… You’re not sure if you’re buying his excuse of a brotherly fight, but you’re not ashamed to say that you didn’t mind him praising your food over Osamu’s. Suck that, Miya!

Meanwhile, Atsumu’s brows are pulled so high, they’re hiding behind his bangs.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

“Your new meal plan. You follow that, you’ll increase your stamina.”

“But it’s so much work.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“Whatever.” You get up, throw the pen down at the table. Your patience has never been the best anyway.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He follows you to the sink but not to help with the dishes.

“You could cook for me.” He offers it like it’s a great deal. You snort.

“I bet there’s something you want. Something I could do for you…” He wiggles his brows now, looks disgustingly like Osamu when he got a better mark then you. And that kickstarts your brain.

“I want Osamu… I mean the recipe…You know, what Osamu made to get the scholarship. If you can get me that dish of him to try, I’ll cook for you.”

Atsumu grins in a way that doesn’t feel good but he nods.

“Alright, it’s a deal. You’ll cook for me and I get you the dish.” He holds out his hand to sign the deal but you’ve been the daughter of a cutthroat banker for too long to fall for that.

“I’ll cook for a week.” You tell him firmly and watch with a sick satisfaction as his face contorts. He looks awful when he’s pissed and there are definitely not enough moments of the Miya twins looking awful.

“Two weeks.

“One week, only dinner.”

“One week, lunch, dinner and snacks.”

“Are you insane?”

“Do you want Osamu’s food?”

There’s a moment of Silence, and you’re eyeing each other, calculating who’s bluffing and who’s not.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because you feel it in your bones that trying that damned dish will get you a step closer to figuring out what you need to present for your Final.

-

You feel like a drug addict, going down the deep end, when Atsumu appears at your door one week later, carrying a Bento-Box wrapped in the cutest fabric you have ever seen.

“Are those little foxes?” You ask, eyeing the reddish-tinted animals on the grey fabric.

“What if ?” He asks back, nose up in the air.

“Jeez, I was just curious.” You snap back and muster him. He doesn’t look malnourished.

“What did you eat this week?”

“Why do you ask?” He sets the Bento-Box on your table and saunters into your kitchen, peering into the still empty pots and pans.

“You’re an awful liar.”

“Okay, so I told Samu that you cooked for me.” He throws his hands up in the air like you’re the one making a big fuss about things. “Told him it was fingerlickin’ good. Got him all angry and puffy.”

You are not ashamed to say that comment lifts you off your feet just a little bit. Hah!

“So?” You ask cooly, untying the Furoshiki with eager fingers.

“So he insisted that he would cook for me. Everything went according to plan, I pretended it wasn’t as good as your food until I asked for the dish he made for his entry exams.”

“Did you know what it was?” You ask as you lift the lid of the box.

“Maybe.” He says and you can hear in his voice that he knew. He probably didn’t tell you just to experience this.

“He made Onigiri?” You ask, your voice a little shrill.

You had made Chawanmushi, a dish literally to die for, practiced one hundred times, and he beat you with Onigiri?

“Try it.” He reaches for one of the Onigiri in the box and you slap his hand away.

“Mine!” You hiss angrily and his grin is almost feral.

“I’ll take a walk around the block then.” He jokes, moving toward the door. “Leave you alone with it.”

“Leave.” You wave him off. “I’ll make dinner later.”

“Half an hour.”

“Leave!” You huff and the door clicks shut behind him.

-

You bite into the first Onigiri and time stops for a second. 

The rice is cooked to perfection, but you know the different varieties well. He must have splurged on this kind, bought from a boutique farmer of some sorts. 

It’s filled with tuna and spring onion, but it tastes different then all the Tuna Onigiri you’ve had before. You write down all the different things you can taste, compare them to the knowledge you have but still - did he use a spice you don’t know? A combination you’re not familiar with?

The taste lingers, but you cannot put your finger on it. You feel a little weepy too, as if you had just watched your favorite movie from when you were a kid. You sniff and take the other Onigiri, bite into almost cautiously. It’s Tenmusu, your favorite kind of Onigiri.

This time, literal tears run down your cheeks. The shrimp is crisp, the sweet sauce calling you back to childhood, reminding you of the few free afternoons you got to spend with your mother, just the two of you, no work allowed. You only remember to write down the taste and ingredients when the last bite has disappeared and your hands leave the paper stained. 

Well… You’re no closer to figuring out what to make for your finals, but you might be getting your period soon. Why else would you be moved to tears by food?

-

“Onigiri, huh?” You ask Osamu after class the next day. You can’t help yourself.

He looks up from his phone, surprise on his face. It’s ridiculous how good that makes him look.

“What about it?”

“I heard you made Onigiri for your Entry Exam.”

“Ah, yes.” He smiles, the kind of smile that makes you want to slap it off his face. “Tsumu told me he made you try it.”

You can feel your face go slack. WHAT?

“What did you think?” Osamu asks, way too confident for your taste. “Did you like them?”

You can’t decide between a huff and a snort and the sound that does come out reminds you more of a dying walruss.

“They were probably pitying you.” You point out, nose in the air. “I showed up with Kaiseki Ryori. I made Chawanmushi.”

“Ah.” Osamu sounds like he’s not sure what that is. But you’ve gone over that in class, he’s just messing with you.

“Well, when do I get to try it?” 

You blink. “What?” 

“Yeah, it’s only fair, right? After you tried mine.”

You swallow thickly, look around for some help, but you’re the only one’s still in the hallway.

“Fine.” You huff eventually, because he does have a point. “As long as I don’t have to eat it.”

His brows furrow and your mind unhelpfully supplies you with the information that his eyes are a different shade than Atsumu’s. Osamu’s eyes are almost as grey as his hair, reminding you of the sky outside. 

His mouth moves and you blink, try to focus on his voice, but fail. Your collar feels too tight around your neck and you pull at it, too aware of Osamu’s eyes that flicker to your neck and stay there. God, what’s going on?”

“What did you say?” You ask in the most snooty voice you can manage. “I wasn’t listening.”

“Why do you cook something you don’t like?” He asks. “Don’t you enjoy cooking?”

Something snaps inside you like a rubberband that has been pulled taut for too long.

“Why do you care?” You sniff and he rolls his eyes. 

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were. But you’re psychological warfare doesn’t work on me! You can flutter your long eyelashes at someone else!”

Osamu laughs. “I wasn’t-”

“Neither was I. Well, are you coming or not?”

“Where?” 

“You wanted to try my Chawanmushi!”

“Gesundheit.” You turn, not the least bit surprised to see Atsumu standing there. It’s lunchtime for him, he’s coming to collect his goods. “Or was that a codeword for something naughty?”

“Oh god, you’re awful.” 

-

You know that the Chawanmushi has turned out as perfect as all the other times. You can tell by sight and smell, but you cannot bring yourself to try it.

The thought of it has you swallow back bile but you serve it to the brothers with the biggest smile you can manage.

“Here.” You present it in tiny, elegant bowls.

“Are you in pain?” Osamu asks and you drop the smile.

“Go f-” 

“Why is it so tiny?” Atsumu asks, eyeing the bowl skeptically. “I’m hungry.”

“I made you Curry.” You tell him off. “This is just a tasting. You can’t eat full bowls with Kaiseki Ryori, you’d never manage that amount of food.”

“Don’t underestimate me.” Atsumu digs in, spoon clinking loudly against the bowl to the point you fear for its life.

He’s done with it before Osamu has even tasted his, still smelling the dish carefully, pulling the spoon through as if to check for clumps.

“It was fine.” Atsumu gives his mark as one would comment on an order of KFC. “Now, the Curry?” 

You huff but don’t get up, eyes still trained on Osamu. Then, finally, he brings the spoon to his mouth. If you’re focusing a little too much on his full lips, that’s entirely because he’s the world's slowest eater at the moment and nothing else.

His face remains passive. 

Cold sweat runs down your back as he slowly but surely finishes the dish and nods appraisingly.

“It was good.” Osamu says calmly. “The Curry?”

Breathing is a little hard at the moment, but you manage to get up, collect the bowls - you don’t throw them at the floor in a fit of rage and you’re very proud of yourself for that - and get them safely to the kitchen sink.

Your hands shake a little as you serve the Curry in three different plates, but if the boys notice, they don’t comment on it. 

“I hope you like it.” Your voice is back to normal, your wounded heart tucked safely back into your chest. “It’s packed with protein and healthy vegetables to make sure you have all the necessary nutrients. You could eat this every day and wouldn’t have to worry about losing out on anything.”

Atsumu digs in without another word. He beams around the spoon, curses loudly.

“This is so good.” He says, mouth full.

“Pig.” Osamu announces next to him, puts the first spoon into his mouth and-

You can see it, in the widening of his eyes and the light blush that appears on the height of his unfairly sharp cheekbones. He likes it. He likes it very much.

You should probably feel a bit more upset about the fact that they insult your Chawanmushi but get high on your Curry, but then again, it just feels good to watch Osamu have the same reaction to your Curry that you had with his Onigiri.

“You should make this for the Exam.” Osamu points out in between a groan and another spoonful of Curry. “It’s amazing.”

“No!” Atsumu shakes his head, still speaks with his mouth full. “The Udon you made yesterday. That was crazy good.”

“What Udon?” Osamu’s voice has a tint to it you cannot place. Does he know about the Onigiri you tried but not about the deal itself? Is he jealous he didn’t get to try them?

“Okay, so she makes the Noodles herself, right? This time without the freaky black stuff-”

“Sepia,” you throw in but he ignores you, “But she used pork belly for the sauce and something creamy and mushrooms, I think-”

“Shiitake.” 

“And I tell you, Samu, it was so so good! Like, it reminded me of Mom making that stew, you know? When Dad had that big sale thing and we got to celebrate it?”

Osamu’s eyes light up in a way that has you looking down at your food, heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird on speed.

“Can you-” He hesitates for a second. “Can you make me that?”

“I could.” You point out, not at all feeling the upper hand. You feel nervous instead as if this is a test or something worse. You swallow thickly, try to think of something to wager against it. Your mind is unhelpful at best, offering the possibility of a date - as if! 

“If I get your recipe. For the Onigiri.”

Osamu’s mouth clicks shut. He blinks, clearly surprised. Then he grins, the kind of grin that tells you this isn’t going to work in your favor, at all.

“Sure. So, Udon tomorrow?”

“I was going to make Katsudon tomorrow.” You point out, pissed that he’s overthrowing your meal plan. Atsumu looks like he’s gotten a glimpse of heaven.

“Really?”

-

You hate to think about it, but the week is nearing its end and Osamu feels less like the devil and more like the dangerously cute boy from your class now. The dangerously cute boy who’s going to get a better mark than you, take the promised internship at one of Japan's leading five-star restaurants and laugh in your face if you don’t shape up right now.

Your father is as helpful as ever.

He’s currently obsessed with the Yakimono part of Kaiseki Ryori, taking you out to dinner each weekend only to try new variants that you should use for your Final Exam.

The food is good, there’s no denying that, but it lacks the emotional touch you had with the Onigiri.

The same Onigiri that you’ve made three times already. They never taste like Osamu’s.

You’re suspecting that he skipped on one ingredient in the recipe, the one thing you could not put your finger on when you tried them. 

“Hey.” Atsumu’s waiting at your door when you return from coffee with your mother. She had been even less helpful, talking about the new dessert dish she was creating. You might have gotten her cooking skills, but you hate baking almost as much as Chawanmushi.

“I thought we said we would skip the cooking over the weekend.” 

“Yeah, about that.” He lifts a heavy bag. “I wanted to ask for a favor.”

“I’m not setting for you.”

“Why would I- Never mind, I wanted to ask… Could you like, show me… how to cook?”

You blink in surprise.

“Why would I teach you that? Don’t you have your brother?”

“He’s not a good teacher.” Atsumu points out and you snort.

“So you want to learn how to cook? And stop harassing me and Osamu?”

“No, no, I will still harass the two of you for food, but it looked easy when you did it, so I thought you could teach me, maybe?”

“Fine.” 

“I’m even pa- Fine? Oh, wow, that was easy.”

“If I can ask you some questions in turn without you judging me?”

“Me, judging someone? Never.” He puts a hand on his chest, probably aiming for his heart, but he’s now swearing on his left ribcage.

-

You watch like a Hawk as Atsumu prepares the Omurice. He’s got a bad habit of getting distracted, but he’s not a bad student.

“So…” You swallow your nerves. “You and Osamu used to play Volleyball together, right?”

“Yeah. He could have gone Pro, like me. But he said…” He raises his hands to make air quotes and lowers his voice into a deeper pitch to mock Osamu, “Skillswise I'm just as good as you. But I think that, when all's said and done, you love volleyball just a teensy bit more than me.”

“And you were okay with that?” 

“Nah.” Atsumu flips the Omurice onto a plate and hands it over to you. “Try.”

“It’s good.” You hand it back to him. “Eat.”

-

When Atsumu leaves, you’re left with even more questions than before.

What does it mean to love something so much you’re willing to pass up something good?

Atsumu is making good money as a Pro, even now. But Osamu had no idea if he was going to make it into this school until he tried.

And why did he make freaking Onigiri?

Midnight has come and gone when you put a jacket over your sleepshirt and slip out of your apartment in nothing but booty shorts and bunny slippers.

You’re not sure if there’s a nightguard. There might be, this is still a mixed dorm filled with hormonal teens and tweens. 

Even though you’ve never been to Osamu’s place before, you know the route by heart. You had memorized it in a childish fit when you realized his room was just below the fire escape.

You wouldn’t allow him to survive you in case of an emergency.

You knock twice before you can hear movement. The door opens and you almost swallow your tongue.

His hair is in disarray as if he’d dragged his hands through it all night and there’s the imprint of his pillow left on his cheek. He’s topless and you keep your eyes trained on the imprint on his cheek as if you don’t notice his happy trail or his still well-trained abs. 

He blinks slowly and yawns.

“What’s up?” He asks. Something moves over his face, quick like a sparrow. “Shit, are you hurt? Did something happen?!”

“No, no, I… Shit, I don’t know, I-”

“Come in.” He pulls you inside, but he calculates wrong, uses too much force for your quivering body. You end up mushed against his chest, face plant right into the warm skin.

If you die like this, you won’t even be mad about it.

“Shit, sorry.” He grabs you and puts you at a distance again, blush high on his cheeks. 

“Your Onigiri.” You start, before he can realize that you’re flustered too. “You didn’t list all the ingredients.”

“I did.”

“Did not. They don’t taste the same.”

“Ah.” He makes that insufferable sound like he knows everything you don’t. 

You want to poke his abs, but you decide against it, mainly because it would make you look weird. But they do look ni-

“Tea?” He asks and you hold your right hand with your left, just in case it turns sentient. 

“Yes, thank you.”

“Your Onigiri don’t taste like mine, because I make them for someone.”

“What?”

“The Tuna one.” He looks at the kettle instead of you, but his voice is wistful, distant. “I always make that one for Tsumu.”

“And the Tenmusu?”

“It’s my Mom’s favorite.” He says softly and you can’t help it, but you start to cry.

“Your Mom likes Tenmusu too?”

“Ah, shit, don’t tell me- Wait, here, take this…” He hands you a tissue to blow your nose and dry your tears. 

“So you’re saying your secret ingredient is love? You’re really going to stand there and make me believe that you got the scholarship because you put love in your food?”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to believe me. But there’s a reason your Chawanmushi did not taste as good as your Curry.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Gladly.” He smirks at you and this time your hand is faster than your mind, pointer finger digging into the firm muscle of his right pectoral.

“Don’t mess with me.”

“Why not?” His face moves closer to you, or did you move closer to his? “Isn’t it fun?”

Whoever moved first doesn’t matter now as his breath washes over you. His eyes skip to your lips and you lick them, no thoughts left in your brain.

Behind him, the kettle whistles, signaling that the water’s cooking, but neither of you moves. 

This could end very badly, or very great, however you want to look at it. 

Your mind, helpful as ever, comes up with a sentence that just slips out of your mouth unprompted.

“Atsumu said that you loved Volleyball a little-”

He draws back the moment he hears you speak, face now closed like a window that has let down its shutters. 

“Right, Atsumu.” He says, interrupting you. “You should get back to the bed.”

“But the tea…”

“I forgot.” He takes the kettle off the stove. “I was going to make a hot water bottle for myself. Sorry.” 

-

Somehow, somewhere, you took a wrong turn.

Maybe it was when you started liking Osamu, in this weird way that has you enjoy the bickering and the competitiveness. Maybe it was even before that, when you let Atsumu get away with his needling, fed him Udon instead of throwing him out.

Or maybe it was even before that, when you didn’t put up a fight everytime your father decided for you, when your mother put work before spending time with you. 

It’s a good thing that Finals are right around the corner.

You can’t focus in most classes, left staring holes into Osamu’s back. 

Atsumu’s stopped showing up himself, probably now a master in cooking for himself. Or he’s gone back to Osamu, to fantastic Onigiri and whatever else he knows how to make.

-

Four days before the Final, someone bangs on your door.

“Jeez, I’m coming.” You pull the door open to reveal Atsumu, soaked and clearly pissed..

“You okay?” You ask. “Or do you need a towel?”

“Why are you not a couple?” He asks back. “Like, the tension was there, you were practically undressing each other at the table - in front of me, might I add - and yet you’re not even speaking to each other? I even cooked all my meals these past weeks in the hopes of hearing good news but Samu’s acting like a bug crawled up his ass and died.”

“What are you even talking abou-”

“Oh, don’t fool me.” He steps inside and moves toward your bathroom without asking. “I just ran here because all I get from Samu are cryptic messages. Did you say something?”

“No, I-”

“Spill.” Atsumu points at the kitchentable, hesitates for a second, then he points at the kitchen itself. “Make some food while your at it. Also, can I have some change of clothes?”

You make Okayu with ginger and honey, the rice porridge a comfort to your heart and a boost to Atsumu’s immune system.

It’s not a long tale. It could be, probably, but you refuse to go into more detail than necessary. Atsumu might be kind of a friend, in his weird, annoying way, but he’s still Osamu’s twin brother.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” He grabs the bag with his clothes and stalks off, dressed in one of your oversized hoodies and bright pink pajama pants, both things slightly too short on him.

“Give him a chance when he comes back,” are his parting words.

But Osamu does not show up.

Neither does he the next morning in class.

-

One of the teachers calls you over after class.

“You and Miya-san are pretty close, right?” She starts, speaks on while you’re still trying not to choke on your spit. “Could you bring him the notes from today? He called in sick. Tell him to take care and rest, so that he can take part in the Final.”

“I-I will.”

You end up in your own room instead, debating if you should just leave everything in front of his door and run. If he’s not at the final, you automatically win. But that’s not a win you’d feel good about, if you’re being honest to yourself.

Before you know it, you find yourself making Oyaku again, with Ginger and Honey, the one food that always gives you comfort and boosts your health. The process is simple, but it still calms you down every time. When it’s done, you look down at two portions and know what to do.

-

“Osamu?” The door is closed, but you can hear faint shuffling behind it. “I made you Oyaku. I heard you’re sick and got your notes from the teachers. I didn’t tell them that I’m a friend of yours, but she was convinced of it and didn’t let me change her mind. But I… we kinda are friends, right?” You feel so weird talking to the closed door. 

“Even if you don’t like me, we got to keep up the reputation. Eat the Oyaku, okay? Winning doesn’t feel the same if you kick yourself out of the game.”

You put everything in front of his door and leave, lingering at the end of the hallway, just out of sight, until you hear his door. When you look back, the Oyaku is gone and all you have to do is wait.

-

Osamu is already outside when you step out of the classroom. 

“Already finished?”

“Onigiri doesn’t take that long to make.” 

“Ah, right.” You nod, don’t know if you should avoid his gaze or follow your instinct and look a bit more closely. He sounds healthy at least.

“What did you make?” His voice is gruff when he asks.

“Ginger Honey Oyaku.” You answer, voice soft. “Which might confuse the teachers because I had all the ingredients ready for honey-glazed pork belly but I decided against it at the last second.”

“I’d have loved to try that pork belly.” Osamu sighs dreamily. “But that Oyaku was so good. I could eat that everyday and never get tired of it.”

“Same.” You smile but it falters when you feel his eyes on you and you know you’ve got to say it. “I made it for you.”

“Yeah, I know-”

“No, what you said… about the Entry Exam.” You can feel your heartbeat, like the fluttering of hummingbird wings. If you’re going to pass out during your confession, you’re going to kill Osamu for it.

Behind you, the door opens and two more students step out. Osamu looks at them and back at you and you nod, point down the hallway. “Let’s take a walk?”

There’s a broom closet not far down and you slip inside only to regret it seconds later. There’s barely enough space for the two of you, his breath washing over you as you try to focus on the words you need to say. Out loud, so he can hear them too.

“I want to beat you.” You can hear him snort, but you keep your gaze on your hands. You won’t be able to speak if you look into his eyes. “But you’re also really funny and caring and cute, in a way. I could see myself, I mean, I already, you know-”

“What about Tsumu?” He asks, voice strangely hoarse.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him more? You don’t feel the need to beat him every two seconds, right?”

You roll your eyes and groan.

“Seriously? The best thing about Atsumu is that he looks kinda like you.”

If you had wanted to say more - you didn’t, but you hate letting anyone else have the last word - it leaves your mind the second his lips press onto yours. 

Your mind’s not yet caught up, but your body is, hands dragging through his hair to pull him closer, to marvel at the softness of it - what conditioner is he using? - to have him a little closer.

His hands are on your hip, your back, roam over your shoulders, leaving warm trails and goosebumps behind.

Then there’s bright light and a shrill shriek and you burst away from each other only to face one of your teachers.

“What? The indecency! During an exam no less! Detention! Detention!” Her garbled words don’t make much sense, but the last word you understand.

Osamu sends you a look, his eyes speaking of little guilt and a promise to continue this latter. You can’t help but feel the same.

-

As it turns out, Detention automatically overrules your exceptional Exam marks. Neither of you wins the internship. Neither of you cares. 

Osamu had applied to an Onigiri shop not far from the school as a second option and with your last name you have no trouble securing an internship with a well-known nutritionist for Pro Athletes. 

Your father is not happy about your change in dreams, but when you explain the earning capacity of this position, and the business plan you’re already halfway through making, your excitement swaps over.

Your mother, as usual, barely listens. But you take it in stride, her usual droning on about a recipe she’s working on, by thinking about how in less than an hour, you’ll see Osamu again.

-

“You guys owe me.” Atsumu declares during Movie night. He’s perched on the edge of the couch, the last piece of the Pizza in his hands. “I’m talking about food for life.”

“We could have done it without you,” Osamu insists, arm around you, face nuzzled into your hair. He pretends he’s watching the movie, but you know better. He’s been thinking about the cheese crackers in your pantry for hours.

“If I hadn’t pulled you out in the rain to talk things through, you wouldn’t have gotten sick and your girlfriend wouldn’t have made Oyaku for you! That’s enough reason for you to love me forever!”

“If you hadn’t interfered he wouldn’t have had to think we were dating instead.” You point out and dig your hands into Osamu’s grip on your arms, moving away from him.

“Babe, what-” He starts but you nod in the direction of your pantry. “Get the crackers. I can’t watch you any longer.”

“Really?” His face lights up like a child in front of a Christmas tree. It’s worth the ridiculous price you paid for the crackers.

“Really.”

He kisses you and the moment could be perfect. But there’s still Atsumu, fake gagging in the background.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[calcifiedunderland]

Part I, Part II, Part III (Here) (COMPLETED)

Ending I, Ending II, Ending III

Note: *falls over from exhaustion* after overthinking wayyy to much, here’s the last part!! Thank you all so much!!!!!!!

Taglist: @recreyomakesdoodles, @aruis4nosleep, @tinseltina, @ibby-miyoshi-nerd, @takitafulily, @viperwhispered, @peeisgood, @twistedcece,

Warnings: food/eating

————————————————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

The next day, you busied yourself getting ready for the Unbirthday Party.

You ate the leftovers from Jamil for breakfast while Grim feasted on some tuna. You’d fallen into a nice little rhythm - eat Jamil or Azul’s leftovers for breakfast, and snack on a pastry or two made by Trey on your walk from Ramshackle to the Mirrors, and attend class. You’d even wrapped up a slice of tart in a napkin and munched on it in between classes, slipping Grim a bite or two to keep him happy.

After breakfast, you headed out. The two of you ambled on the way to Heartslabyul, when your phone rang.

You rose an eyebrow, but responded, “Hey Azul, is everything ok?” Azul’s voice came from your phone, sounding a bit shaky. “Everything is fine, Prefect. I was wondering if you could stop by the Lounge for a moment?”

About two minutes earlier, Azul was in his office, idly twirling the longer lock of hair next to his cheek. His thumb hovered over the send button, uncertain. How in the Seven Seas do humans do this?! He huffed and deleted it all, setting his phone down on his desk.

For the hundredth time, he thought back to how your study date went. The relieved look on your face, when you finally understood the subject because he had helped you filled him with smug satisfaction. He’d proven that he was reliable. His mind raced, there’s another exam for Alchemy. Maybe they’d want more help.

He reopened your chat when the door to his office opened. Floyd flopped onto the couch in boredom while Jade perched next to him, smirking with intrigue. Azul frowned, setting his phone down to pace around his office.

“I have no idea what to say. How, in the Sea Witch’s name, do I ask to see them again?” At that, Floyd just groaned in annoyance, but grinned when he saw Azul’s phone (unlocked) on his desk. “Ya can just ask them!” He cackled as he held Azul back with one arm and called your number with the other. Jade simply chuckled with a sadistic grin, while Azul yelled.

Now, Azul was sweating enough to fill the ocean twice over. “I’d like you to stop by the Lounge, because…” he trailed off, staring wide-eyed at the twins. Jade hummed, and offered “leftovers?” Azul nodded rapidly, then said quickly “y-yes! There’s some leftovers I’d like you to have!”

You stepped into the Heartslabyul mirror, “I really appreciate it, Azul, but I really don’t need any more leftovers, I barely have any space.” Your fridge was already bursting with Jamil’s curry, Azul’s Lounge dishes, and Trey’s fancy pastries. You’d taken to pawning some off to Ruggie, and even Epel began stopping by for some food.

Azul stared at Jade and Floyd, floundering for words. What? How?! You’d only taken two boxes of food, enough for one meal between you and Grim. He cleared his throat. “I-I see, well… I understand that Crewel will be having an Alchemy test soon, perhaps we could schedule a… session?” He gulped. He ignored Jade chuckling and mumbling ‘surely you mean date.’

You stopped in front of the Heartslabyul maze with a smile. “I’d really appreciate that, thank you. Y’know, I was having trouble with last week’s potion.” Azul sighed with relief, dropping into his office chair, “How about you come by later today? I have the afternoon free, and-“

“I won’t be able to, Azul,” you said apologetically. You waved to Ace and Deuce in the distance, the two of them were setting the table for the Party. You continued, “The Unbirthday Party is today, and it’ll be a while. Trey wanted me to help with the desserts again.” Trey stepped out into the maze, smiling at you.

You began walking to them, “Anyway Azul, I can call you back later, Trey needs me, I have to go.” You ended the call. Azul stared at his phone in disbelief. Clover…!

He stood abruptly, a scheming look in his eye. At that, Jade and Floyd immediately stood to attention, and moved to walk behind Azul as he stalked out of his office.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

You smiled as Trey walked up to you. The green-haired third year held a large cake stand in his hands, with a nicely decorated white heart-shaped cake sitting neatly inside. “Hello, (name),” he greeted you, setting the cake down on the table in front of Riddle’s throne. He smiled at you, and you felt warmth spread from your cheeks to your toes. “I’m glad you made it early, I needed some help frosting some last-minute cookies.”

You nodded in understanding, and walked with him into the kitchens. Trey walked behind you, “here, you’ll need an apron,” he gently put the neckpiece over your head and tied the string around your waist. You were caught off guard with how fast it happened, and your face felt warm. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could hear the smile (or smirk?) in Trey’s soft voice. “Wouldn’t want you to mess up your nice party outfit,” a deep chuckle reverberated from him.

You nodded quickly, squeaking out “of course!” before picking up a piping bag and frosting the cookies with the typical heart-pattern they always had. Trey smiled softly at you before doing the same with another bag, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. Beneath his breath, Trey hummed, glancing at you every so often. As he swirled icing onto a madeleine, he wondered if he could ask you to help him again sooner.

Pretty soon, you two stacked the cookies into a tray and the Unbirthday Party was underway. Cheerfully, you watched your friends play croquet while you nibbled on a buttery madeleine cookie that Trey frosted. Thankfully, you weren’t particularly hungry now. You’d scarfed down some of Jamil’s cooking for breakfast, unable to resist the deliciously crisp scent of falafel that you’d warmed in the microwave.

While it didn’t have the same crunchy texture like when Jamil finished making it, it still tasted divine. And after browsing through your fridge, Jamil insisted on cooking you some dolma, complete with bell peppers stuffed with veggies and rice, and a few large, sweet, juicy, delectable mangos sent (and grown!) by Kalim’s family.

Jamil’s food was incredibly filling, and it didn’t help that every time he saw you, he sent you back with at least three tupperwares. Not that you minded, of course - you never minded it, especially when Jamil looked so happy. Subconsciously, you pulled out your phone and opened Jamil’s chat. You saw he left a message.

Jamil: Hey (name), are you doing ok? Please text me when you get this.

Back in the Scarabia kitchens, Jamil frowned at his phone. What is going on? An hour ago, he was walking to Sam’s shop to buy ingredients when he overheard Azul and the twins talking in the Mirror Chamber. Quickly, he hid behind the post and listened carefully to them. Strange, why was Azul going to the Heartslabyul mirror?

“So, whatcha gonna do about Sea Turtle?” Floyd asked, hands up behind his head. “Can’t have him crampin’ your style on Shrimpy.” Jade chuckled, a wicked grin on his face, “quite right. What is your plan, Azul?” The Housewarden in question merely stalked to the mirror, saying “I’ll simply chat with Trey. I’m sure Heartslabyul wouldn’t mind some more guests to their Unbirthday Party.” The twins merely grinned at each other, and walked into the mirror after Azul.

Jamil stared after them. So, not only is Azul pursuing you, he thought as he pulled out his phone to text you, but so is Trey? He’d known about Azul’s plans to become closer to you, but he hadn’t considered Trey. Still, Jamil should know about lying low and using closeness to your advantage. Sevens, that Clover could be as cunning as him. Despite the situation, a devious grin spread on Jamil’s face. It seemed that both of them weren’t aware of Jamil’s intentions though.

When he went back to the Scarabia kitchens, Jamil expected a text from you soon, but he was still waiting after an hour. It wasn’t like he wanted to oust himself by going to the Unbirthday Party looking for you, but he was feeling antsy just waiting. He flipped over a falafel patty on the stove, when he heard his text notification.

(Name): Hey Jamil! Yea im good, sorry for the late txt, im at heatslabl rn

(Name): its knda crazy here, jade and flyod are here??? Atm im hidin from flody, he saw me an yelled SHRmPY n I dont wanna be eaten lmao T-T

Jamil frowned deeply, and wrote back:

Jamil: Stay safe, I hope everything is ok. Do you know where Trey is? Maybe he could help.

Jamil: And do you know if Azul is there?

You flinched when you saw Floyd’s feet running beside the table you were huddled under, tablecloth obscuring you. He laughed loudly, babbling out “Crabby!” and “Mackerel!” Thankfully, he wasn’t looking for you anymore, but Sevens you needed a break. You responded to Jamil:

(Name): uh idk, i haven’t seen trey fr a while, and idk if azul is here at all.

Jamil’s eyes narrowed at his phone screen. Putting the last falafel aside, he packaged up some in a tupperware with more pita, some tahini hummus, and shawarma. He sent you a thumbs up, and made his way out of Scarabia.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

“Hello, Trey,” Azul greeted, hand firm on his cane. The two of them stood in the Heartslabyul kitchen, tension thick. Trey’s eyes narrowed at Azul. “Azul, what brings you to Heartslabyul?” he asked conversationally, though forced. Azul smiled thinly, eyes narrowing in turn, “I simply came to see what your…Unbirthday Parties are like.”

Trey crossed his arms, “Well, as I’m sure you can see, we’re all busy. Though they are called Parties, they’re an important event to Heartslabyul. An irreplaceable tradition,” he stressed. Azul hummed, “I’m sure, but they’re rather… unorganized, no?” He nodded towards the sink, “I see several things have escaped your care…” He glanced around the kitchen, noting a few stray cookies, cupcakes, and icing laying around, not to mention the large mound of dishes packed in the sink.

Azul looked up at Trey, pursing his lips. “You seem quite busy, perhaps all your eggs aren’t in one basket, hm?” he said with a smirk. Trey crossed his arms, angling his head, “I’m sure you didn’t come here for eggs, Azul, so say your piece and let me go to the Party.”

Under the scrutiny of Azul’s grey eyes, Trey was surprised at himself for his sudden brashness. Still, he decided, he didn’t want Azul taking advantage of your kindness. Azul cleared his throat, before the door to the kitchen swung open.

Trey’s golden eyes widened at Jamil’s dark grey irises, and the Scarabia second year steeled his gaze at him. Jamil shifted the Tupperware in his arms, “Hello Trey,” he said calmly while clutching the container considerably not calmly. “Where is the Prefect? I was looking for them.”

Jamil noticed the way Trey and Azul side-eyed each other. He serenely smiled at them, staying silent. Something swirled in Jamil’s dark eyes that made Azul’s eyes narrow - it wasn’t Jamil’s Unique Magic, but was still just as sinister.

“Jamil,” Trey said evenly, “it’s not often we see members of other dorms in Heartslabyul.” Its even stranger that you’re here looking for Prefect. And now that Azul is here too… Jamil nodded, and Trey continued. “The Prefect is out at the Party right now, what do you need them for?” The two listened closely to Jamil, who said carefully, “They texted me, and I was going to bring them back to Scarabia for a bite to eat-“

“Hm, how kind of you, Jamil.” Azul cut Jamil off, smiling coldly at him. He tapped his cane on the floor twice, saying “but I’m afraid I must take the Prefect with me to study, as they’re obligated under contract.” Trey narrowed his eyes, arms crossing, “If they were under contract, wouldn’t they be there now instead of here, the Party?”Azul stared disdainfully at him, damn, I should’ve explicitly wrote out when (Name) would meet with me. I shouldn’t have left it up to them!

Trey felt triumphant as he said, “I’m sure whatever obligations the Prefect has, they will attend to after the Unbirthday Party.” Azul grit his teeth, “While Scarabia is… accommodating,” he nodded to Jamil, recalling Kalim’s wild chaotic parties, “and the Queen of Hearts’ dorm is indeed… charming,” he nudged a fallen cookie with his cane, “I believe the Prefect would prefer the attention of Octavinelle. After all, they have sought refuge with us before. If I recall, it was during winter break, right Jamil?”

Jamil’s eyes widened, and he glared at Azul’s smug look, “Yes, I’m sure they feel right at home being watched by your two henchmen. Please,” he scoffed, “They already have enough on their plate. You’d probably make them work at your restaurant.”

Trey begrudgingly agreed, “he’s right. That isn’t your decision to make, Azul.” He adjusted his glasses, the frame glinting in the kitchen’s light, “Of course, when they want to relax with people who care, they do come to Heartslabyul.”

Jamil turned incredulously to Trey, snorting “Heartslabyul also has a pair of ruckus-causing freshmen, if I remember correctly. I’m not sure the Prefect could properly relax here.” He tossed his bangs over his shoulder, “Scarabia is far more suitable, and Kalim’s family recently sent over new sofas for the lounge room. They’d be comfortable there.”

The three stared at each other, no one moving. Outside, however, was pandemonium.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

Something just had to happen at the Unbirthday Party, you thought exasperatedly. Of course, none other than Jade and Floyd had to come to Heartslabyul.

Now, Riddle was screaming Off With Your Head! at a wild, giggly Floyd. Meanwhile, Jade was inspecting the Rose Maze grounds under the excuse of ‘looking for wild mycelia.” Even though Heartslabyul meticulously kept the grounds spotless. Still, it didn’t stop your first year friends from tailing the Octavinelle Vice suspiciously while Cater was busy live-streaming the entire mess with a cheerful peace sign and grin. And now, after texting Jamil as a plea for help, you were staring at the thumbs up emoji he sent you. Like, what the hell Jamil? Really?

You sighed to yourself, drinking the last of your (drink) before rising to your feet. You had some suspicions for why the twins were here, paranoia filling you. Azul’s call earlier was a little strange. You would’ve asked him if he was alright, if you hadn’t had the Party. Shit, was there something in the contract I violated or something? You’d scoured that contract for everything, surely there wasn’t anything you missed?

You quietly passed a laughing Floyd and picked up a few empty cake and pastry platters, silently walking to the kitchens to put them in the sink. It’ll be nice to help Trey out a little. You also wondered if Jamil texted you back, oh and you could call Azul about your study session too! You were about to push the kitchen door open when you heard Trey mention your name.

“...and in any case, (Name) is already overworked,” Trey continued, maintaining eye contact with Azul. “I’m sure you wouldn’t do them any favors.” Azul’s eyes narrowed, “and what exactly do you mean by that, Clover?” His tone became icy, and a chill ran down your back as if you were doused with ice water.

You were startled to hear Jamil, who responded sternly, “the Prefect mentioned you made a contract with them. The last time you made contracts for studying, I remember it didn’t go well with them.” You heard Trey sigh and agree, “Jamil is right, and you know it. How do we know you aren’t just fooling them?”

Azul winced pushed up his glasses, frowning deeply, “I admit that the Prefect and I haven’t had the… best start,” he began, “but what happens between them and I is none of your concern.” You heard Trey bite back in a tone you’d never heard him use, “I’ll make it my concern if something happens to them.” Hastily he backtracked, “they’re my underclassmen, I have to look after them.”

Azul scoffed and continued, unimpressed “I’ve told you before, my intentions with them are entirely pure and good. I have been nothing but benevolent. Besides,” he smirked, ego growing, “don’t you find it interesting they came to me for help, and not either of you?”

You were surprised to hear Jamil’s voice sneer, “You would’ve found some way to rope them into your contracts sooner or later. But I wouldn’t have let you get away with it with (Name).” You heard Trey grit out, “You’re not much better than Azul, Jamil. Don’t think they haven’t told me what happened during winter break.”

You sucked in a deep breath and hefted the dishes in your arms. You’d heard enough. You were tired of people discussing you. And you were too underpaid to deal with whatever bullshit those three were beefing about in there. You summoned every acting tip Vil gave you, and pushed the kitchen door open with your back, “Hey Trey!” You feigned cheerfully, “I got some dishes, and did you know the twins are here?-“

Despite what you heard, you watched with amusement as the three of them jumped out of their skins. Trey and Azul’s glasses went askew and Azul’s cane clattered to the floor, smashing a fallen cookie into crumbs. Trey’s hat fell off next to him. The decorative coin beads in Jamil’s hair jangled as he flinched. Jamil’s long bangs and braids whipped Azul in the face as he spun around to look at you. As Azul spluttered at the sudden hair-attack, you noted Jamil was clutching a food container in his arms. Your mind drifted to your fridge.

You looked at them innocently and dumped the dishes in the sink. Not my problem.

“Oh, hello Azul!” You hummed, putting the cane in his hand, “I didn’t realize you came too! What a surprise!” You decided to ignore the flustered look on Azul’s face as he fidgeted with the cane. “And there you are, Jamil! I got worried when you didn’t text me back.” You smiled and hugged him softly, brushing his bangs behind his ear. Jamil’s face went slack with shock as you did, the tupperware almost slipping from his grasp.

You turned to Trey, sweeping up his hat and dusting it off before reaching up on your toes. You set it down softly on his head before adjusting his glasses gently, “Hey uh, fair warning, Trey,” you kept your tone in check, practically feeling Azul’s and Jamil’s gazes staring at the back of your head, “the twins are here, and Floyd is kinda making Riddle very… behead-y,” you winced. “Sorry, I tried to help…”

You noted the soft dust of pink on Trey’s cheeks as he cleared his throat, and gently grabbed your hand that was still hovering by his glasses, “it’s no problem, Prefect. You’ve done an excellent job, I can take it from here.” You smiled at the three of them, deciding to get the hell out of there. “Thanks, Trey!”

In a last-minute pitied attempt to quell all three of them, you smiled nervously at them all, “And, uh, Trey? Thank you for the pastries, they’re absolutely delicious,” Trey smiled, eyes closed as he rubbed the back on his head, “Glad you like them, (Name).” You suddenly felt the other two guys’ eyes on you.

Azul cleared his throat, “I hope you’ve been eating balanced meals, Prefect? After all, too much sweets aren’t good for you.” Trey sent him a look, “there are many pastries that aren’t sweet, and besides, I’ve been ensuring the Prefect is getting enough to eat. And as for their health,” Trey smiled teasingly at you, “you’ve been brushing your teeth, right?” You groaned, smacking his arm. Trey chuckled, “the Prefect does deserve a sweet treat once in a while, right Azul?” “Tch…”

You were curious why Azul simply pushed up his glasses, saying “but simply as dessert. I believe the main course is more important in a meal. For that,” Azul smiled charmingly at you, “I’m sure you’d find my menu at the Lounge more suitable to your tastes.” Something in Azul’s voice tipped you off - he was using his business-y convincing voice. And you noted that Trey was watching him very closely, while Jamil was looking at the two of them calculatingly. As your gaze bounced from one to the other, Jamil smiled, not quite reaching his eyes, “perhaps you’d like to try some more of my homemade cooking? I haven’t had you try all the ones I want to make for Kalim yet…”

Suddenly you felt the air in the kitchen get very stuffy. Go figure, this is NRC. Of course there’s an ego-feeding competition. Still, feeling a little bad about not acknowledging the other two, you nodded to Azul, “well Azul, thanks for the food! I had some for breakfast. And, thank you for helping me with the History test, I appreciate it a lot!” You grinned at him, “I was the highest in the class, Trein was impressed!” Azul chuckled softly, but you saw the blush dusting his face, “Of course, Prefect. It was my pleasure.” Finally, you smiled at Jamil, “And thank you for the leftovers, Jamil. They were incredible!”

Trey and Azul’s eyes dart immediately to Jamil, then to the tupperware he held. Jamil smirked slightly and held the tupperware out to you. “I’m glad you liked it, Prefect. I made some more, please take it.” You nodded, taking it with a nervous smile. You idled there awkwardly, then cleared your throat. “WELL!” you tucked the tupperware under your arm, “I’d better get going! Thank you all so much!” You turned on your heel and scampered out of the kitchen.

Azul sighed heavily, “I was about to ask them about another study session… oh, well.” He turned to Trey, “I believe we’ve both outstayed our welcome. I suppose I’ll see you, Trey.” Trey nodded, lips pursed. Jamil followed after Azul, looking back at Trey for a moment before walking.

You sighed heavily, tossing yourself onto your mattress in your room. Downstairs, you heard Grim hum happily as he nommed on something, but you couldnt be bothered now. You flopped over, staring at the ceiling. This is so weird.

You couldn’t help but feel like you’d stumbled into something entirely out of your control, but somehow it was different than dealing with Overblots, Grim, or even Crewel’s cruel tests. It felt… strange dealing with emotions like this. In your heart, you felt like you knew what it was, even if you didn’t want to admit it yet.

Soon, you lost track of time, so lost in thought that you flinched when you heard your phone go off. You sighed, and got yourself up off the bed. Walking over, you picked up your phone from the nightstand, and saw you had a text from…

Cake Ending

Five Star Meal Ending

Silky Melon Ending

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

Lmk which dorm is your fav in the comments, mine is heatslabl lmao

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated!!! I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and it makes me so happy that people like it!!! Take care shrimpies~

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language, angst, depictions of blood

Chapter Word Count: 3327

—-MDNI—-

A/N: soooo this chapter felt weird to write, but hey I wanted it for the plot to thicken haha. It’s different, but things will feel a bit more normal after this chapter.

——————————————————————

Please read the below:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8pt.1

Chapter 8pt.2

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 11

By the time I’d passed the security check, introduced myself to the two other girls currently on shift and found my dressing room, the nerves were starting to dissipate. Through each step and each new room I’d entered I was making countless mental notes on every security camera and exit I could see. It wasn’t hard to tell that everyone except the bar and wait staff and the dancers were all vampires - their noses twitching and eyes widening whenever I’d walked past. I was clearly fresh meat - perhaps not in the immediate future, but I’m guessing that as soon as I’d served my purpose in luring unknowing human men to their untimely demise, I’d be next. Or at least kept as a blood bag, and I didn’t know which was worse.

A sharp knock on the door brought me back to reality, the vamp on the other side not even waiting for a reply as he barged in.

“You’re sure taking your time sweet cheeks, everything ok?” His sharp gaze twinkled as he looked at me, as if searching for any sort of vulnerability. I huffed out a final deep breath of nerves before standing straight and forcing a smile, shimmying out of my thick overcoat and throwing it over the back of the chair I was just leaning on. On the revelation of my figure and my outfit he let out a long, low whistle.

“Well don’t you just look good enough to eat?”

I swallowed despite my mouth being dry, trying my best to bring my confidence to the forefront and to ignore what he is.

“Well you wouldn’t be the first to say so,” I almost felt nauseous from having to sound so sweet. “Why don’t you lead the way and show me where I’m supposed to be?”

He didn’t take any convincing as he led me out the room and down a short corridor that was lined with what I’m assuming are other dressing rooms.

“What’s in there?” I asked, my gaze snagging on a metal door that didn’t look like the rest. It looked more like a vault, with an intricate lock system that seemed to need both keys and fingerprints.

“Errrrr, just the boss's office. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about,” he placed his hand on my hair, making me shudder.

“Oh ok… will I ever get to meet the boss?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. Keeping up with this cutie-pie act was going to be more draining than I thought. He stayed quiet for a moment before speaking up, an unsettling look on his face.

“Of course doll face! When the time is right.”

*

About two hours had passed since I arrived at the club and a steady stream of men (occasionally women) was filtering in. I was currently up on a podium and trying not to think too hard about how I should be dancing whilst keeping my eyes peeled on the crowd, every now and then making eye contact with the patrons and blowing them a sickening kiss with a sultry wink. Every time I slipped away for a ‘toilet break’ I'd unlock as many windows and doors as I could find whilst turning security cameras towards the wall. I'd counted around fifteen vampires milling around as I snuck about, and there were definitely more behind that metal door. This place was about as prepared as possible for Sam and Dean to sneak in, so I sent Charlie a text with all the details I had knowing full well she could no longer see me through the cameras she'd hacked into.

I'd been back on my podium for about ten minutes, moving my body to the loud bass of the blaring music under the erotic lighting which glowed all manner of pinks and reds, when the front door opened again to let another patron in. Except this wasn't a patron.

It was Dean.

I cursed under my breath, frowning at him across the dance floor despite the fact he hadn't seen me yet. What the actual fuck was he doing coming in through the front door? I didn't play mission impossible and find countless ways for him to break in just so that he could waltz in, bold as brass and blow our cover. I watched him as he stopped in the centre of the room, illuminated by the lights that cast angular shadows over his rugged face. He was alert, jaw clenched and eyes scouring the crowd until his gaze eventually landed on me. With my arms above my head and gripping the pole behind me he was able to get a good look at what was hiding underneath my overcoat when he last saw me. Eyes glazing over and Adam's apple bobbing, he was instantly ensnared. I focused entirely on him; sinking to my knees and crawling my hands forwards, beckoning him with a single finger to which he eagerly obliged. The older Winchester stood before me, eyes almost sparkling from the lustful lighting as he gaped up at me. His evergreen eyes shone in adoration as they bore into mine, almost completely disregarding the lasciviousness of the rest of my body. It was almost…

Romantic.

I leant forwards, my painted lips brushing against his ear and pulling a shiver from his spine. I could have been mistaken, but I’m sure I heard a groan.

“What the FUCK are you doing here, Dean?”

He blinked, suddenly remembering he was on earth.

“What?”

“The plan! What happened to the plan? You were supposed to go around the back - I made it easy for you to sneak in! This place is well guarded Dean.”

“Yeah well, I wanted to make sure you were- hang on- are you a MAID?” He stepped back to take a better look at me as I sat up, trying not to draw attention to myself for staying still for too long. My eyes rolled on their own accord.

“Dean now really isn’t the tim-”

“Holy crap you’re a maid. You’re a MAID. So there is a God,” he dramatically put his hands together as though in prayer and mouthed ‘thank you’ to the disco ball on the ceiling.

“Dean-”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not letting anyone ruin this for me - not even you. Carry on, pretend I’m not Dean and there aren’t any vamps to kill; just for two minutes,” he settled into one of the chairs in front of my podium, flagging a waitress down for a whiskey in the process. There was no arguing with Dean Winchester, especially when he was ticking something off his bucket list. Grasping the pole behind me I pulled myself to my feet, hooking my leg around it and spinning slowly.

“So, NOT-Dean, where’s not-Sam?”

He took a long sip from his liquor before licking his lips, his eyes transfixed on my thighs.

“He's uhhh…. He's sneaking in through some window round the back.”

“Oh, so like you should be?”

He smirked over the top of his glass, spreading his legs a little wider as he settled further into his chair, his other hand resting in his lap.

“Don't deny a man his pleasures sweetheart.”

A half hearted scoff left my lips before I climbed higher on the pole, leaning back so I was almost upside down, granting Dean the perfect view of my lingerie as my micro-skirt flipped over my belly. Spinning slightly, I caught him adjusting himself in his jeans right as I pulled myself back upright.

“You seem pretty at home in a strip club,” my voice came out more breathy than intended as I moved my body in time with the music.

“I can say the same about you,” he quipped back, dark eyes burning into my exposed skin. Licking the last drop of whiskey from his bottom lip, he placed his glass back on the table before standing; taking long, slow steps towards my podium, the toes of his boots touching the metal. I got down on my knees, bringing myself to his eye level before taking his chin between my thumb and index finger and drawing his bewitched face nearer. We ignored the shouts from security telling Dean he wasn’t allowed to touch as I ghosted my lips over his. I could feel his chest rising and falling in anticipation for a simple kiss, his mouth agape and eyes darting about my features - trying to take all of me in. His restraint snapped and he leant forward, pressing his mouth to mine - hot and needy. A large hand reached up and long fingers wrapped around my wrist, rough skin tickling at my pulse as he guided my hand from his chin to his hair, urging me to grip it. Just as I grasped at its softness he was forced away from me, two of the vamps shoving aggressively at his shoulders and putting some distance between us.

“Keep your hands off the girls! You know the rules,” one of them practically spat out his words to Dean, who in return had a feral look in his eye as I caught his hand inching closer and closer to the blade concealed within his jacket.

“Sorry it was my fault!” I blurted, all eyes now burning into me. “It's my first shift and I forgot I shouldn't let it get that far. Don't blame him, it was me who was too…. encouraging.” I flashed sickly-sweet doe eyes at the vamp sizing up Dean, biting my lip in apprehension before he sighed and let go, shaking his head.

“I’ll let you off this time as you’re the newbie, but don’t let it happen again.”

“Yes’sir!” I tapped my fingers to my forehead in a pretend salute, hearing the fanged ones curse under their breath before walking away, throwing one last warning look at Dean - who looked like the cat that got the cream - before returning to their posts. When I knew that they were definitely out of earshot, I snapped at Dean.

“You could’ve totally blown everything!”

Shrug.

“But I didn’t.”

“Dean, you need to go. Sam is going to be wondering where you are. Find him before you get caught.”

“And what about you?” He chewed his lip, unable to stop his eyes from wandering.

“I’m going to stay here and stick to the plan. I’ll run at the first sign of trouble, so please don’t worry about me,” I sighed, looking down at his puppy-dog eyes.

“(Y/n) I’m always gonna worry about you.”

*

It must have been about twenty minutes since Dean left to find Sam and my heart was pounding in my chest knowing how close they were and the possible danger they were in. I didn’t know what doors they were behind, or how many vamps they’d taken out, and I certainly didn’t know if they were unharmed. My palms felt sweaty on the pole as I danced, making it hard for me to grip and put on a good show. Now was as good a time as any to have a toilet break and grab some coffee. I hopped down from my podium as the song ended and hurried to the back of the club, darting through a ‘staff only’ door to the break room. I poured myself a small cup of coffee, adding an obscene amount of sugar to stop my knees from trembling. I’d barely swallowed my first mouthful when I heard shouts and crashing from down the hall, my fingers instantly loosening from the mug as my high-heeled feet carried me to the door where I peaked out, desperate to know what was going on yet mindful not to be seen. There was no one in the corridor that I could see, yet I checked left and right to make sure I wasn’t being watched before I slipped out, teetering on my platforms as I tiptoed to where I was sure the noise had come from.

It was the metal door.

I poked my head down the corridor where it was located and was grateful to see it unlocked and sitting ajar. Inching closer I could hear a scuffle from within and the sound of heavy bodies dropping like lead to the floor, followed by Sam and Deans unintelligible murmuring. A sigh of relief left my lips when I heard them, knowing it wasn’t their bodies hitting the cold tiles below. That relief froze in my veins however when I heard a third voice speak up. A voice that was smooth like butter. A voice that drew you in with a silky southern accent.

A voice that I knew to be dead.

Hesitation and reasoning left in the dust, I barged forwards and into the room, shoving the metal door wide and startling the Winchester brothers, their eyes widening at my sudden appearance. Before they even had the chance to open their mouths, slow clapping echoed through the ‘old money’ style office, emanating from behind a large mahogany desk.

“And there she is! The star of my show. It’s about time you showed up darlin’,” that southern voice dripped with charisma as a handsome man, around my age, sat in a crisp stone-coloured, three piece suit.

“Hey! Don’t you talk to her, you’re dealing with us,” Dean was quick to bite. The stranger threw him a sharp glare before rising to his feet, his cold gaze landed on me again and burned me through to my very soul.

“Y-y-you’re de-” I started before being immediately cut off.

“I bet you never thought you’d see me again, hm? Especially not like this,” he gestured to himself.

“(Y/n),” Sam’s cautious eyes landed on mine, “how do you know him? He’s a vampire.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but yet again I was interrupted before a sound passed my lips.

“Oh (Y/n) and I go waaaaaaaay back, don’t we darlin’?”

I could see Dean inching closer to me out of the corner of my eye, trying not to draw attention to himself in the process. I opened my mouth to speak again, my lips and tongue feeling dry and numb, like they didn’t want to utter the word about to be spoken.

“Daniel I-”

“BINGO!” He clapped loudly, “she DOES remember her old sweetheart.”

“WHAT!?” Both Sam and Dean spun to look at me with dumbfounded expressions, a whole array of emotions flitting across their features.

“(Y/n) you dated a vamp?” Sam asked, those big eyes of his glistening with concern.

“He wasn’t a vamp when I knew him; he’s supposed to be dead!” I turned from Sam to Daniel, the confusion clearly evident on my face, “you’re supposed to be dead - I watched you die - how are you here?”

A harsh laugh rippled from his chest.

“Paramedic was a vampire sweet-cheeks. He turned me on the way to the morgue after he pronounced me dead at the scene - stroke of genius really. Although,” he paused, walking around the desk to step towards me, the boys reaching for every weapon on their person to have at the ready, “what’s even more genius is that ad we put out for a dancer.”

“What?”

He scoffed.

“You think it’s a stroke of good luck that you just happen to look exactly like the description we posted? Honey I knew from the moment I turned what you and your uncle did for living - the dots seemed to connect all on their own. And I knew that one day - whether now or in a few years - that you or some other hunter you might know would pass through my nest and see it. I knew it would bring you back to me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, hang on their sparkles; she’s not going anywhere with you,” Dean had pushed his way in between me and Daniel, the eldest Winchester standing a few inches taller than him as they went nose-to-nose.

Daniel grimaced, fangs threatening to show.

“Why is her scent all over you? Don’t tell me you two are involved?”

Dean smirked before I shoved him out the way, his thick fingers protectively wrapping around my wrist as a safety line.

“Daniel I-,” I took a deep breath, “I loved you once. A long, long time ago. But to me, in my world; you died. And I grieved you. God I grieved you for years, and then one day I woke up and my heart didn’t hurt as much anymore. I carried on with my life, the heartache easing a little everyday. Until there was no more heartache - no more pain. I was whole again. Daniel - you’re still dead in my world. Nothing is going to change.”

He reached for my hand but Dean put an arm between us, stopping him in his tracks.

“(Y/n), darlin’, I put that ad out because I still love you. We can still be together - forever. Just let me turn you-”

“Aannnd that’s it loverboy, times up,” Dean pushed me behind him and brandished the hunting blade he’d use to slice my underwear from my body about a week ago on our first hunt together. Right as Daniel bared his fangs and lunged for Dean, I felt another hand grab my arm. I spun and came toe-to-toe with Sam who was quietly beckoning for me to follow him whilst the vampire was distracted. We left the room quietly, running down corridors, twisting and turning and falling through one of the side doors I had unlocked earlier in the night and out into the fresh air. I took a few deep breaths, not realising how much the metallic scent of blood had filled my nostrils.

“Sam what about Dean?! We can't just leave him behind he-”

Sam laughed softly.

“If you want a vamp dead, Dean will always come out on top. He'll be just fine.”

Sam helped me to my feet, looking down at me, his gaze turning from reassuring to questionable. I sighed, weariness starting to settle into my bones.

“I know, I know. I can explain it all later,” I said, starting to shuffle back to the impala, seeking the comfort of its plush leather seats.

“What? No, (Y/n) you don’t owe me an explanation if you don’t want to. I just want to know if you’re ok?”

I stopped and looked up at him, and something about the kindness of his voice and the concern in his eyes had me falling to my knees, my body heaving out a sob. Then another. And another. Until I couldn’t stop for air and hot tears washed my makeup down my face and my hair stuck to the streaks they left behind. Sam simply crouched down and pulled me into him, rubbing my back and telling me softly that everything will be ok. It was a comfort to feel his chin on my head and his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, the steady thrum eventually soothing away my anguish.

I have no idea how long we were sat there for, but he eventually coaxed me to my feet and led me to the car where Charlie was waiting with a pained expression. She would have seen, or at least heard everything that went down through the security cameras linked to her tablet - she was one of the few people in this life that had met my ex.

I was gently manoeuvred into the back seat, my head resting on Charlie's lap as she played with my hair. Sam had waited outside the impala for a few minutes before climbing into the passenger seat, slamming the door closed. Not five minutes had passed when the door slammed again as Dean clambered in, the stench of blood thick on his clothes, however the comforting scent of his cologne still managed to waft through. He turned to face me, those mossy green eyes piercing into mine as he said with the gentlest tone he could muster:

“It’s done, sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Next: Chapter 12

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[poppy-metal]

creep!au art is going crazy. he wants to know who you are sooooooooo badly. he’s been back and forth about guilt and about being disturbed (which if he’s honest ended a long time ago, ended as soon as he saw that sweet cunt) and about what kind of person you must be, what kind of person he must be to take advantage of your troubled mental state. because you really are troubled. it’s not just the act of leaving him these notes. it’s the notes. you say things that make his skin crawl and his cock throb, and he’s starting to not be able to tell the difference. even after you begin texting you still leave him notes. the notes become more graphic, as you’re more reserved over text.

you smell good today. sometimes i want to eat you because i think you’d taste like marshmallow. but that would be wrong.

you’re so strong. i love your arms. would you hit me if i asked you to? i probably deserve it a little for all i put you through. haha. just know you could hurt me forever and i’d still be yours

after all we’ve done together, i have to wonder if you’ve been with any other girls. i hate that. i would never tell you what to do, but it hurts my heart to think you could need anything but me. i would do anything for you. i’d light myself on fire if you asked me to. i would. no one can give you what i can. i can do anything another girl can do, and with me you’ll know it’s an act of worship. you’re no one else’s god, art. just mine.

you’re not okay. you are sick in the head. but. but you’re so sweet. and no one has ever loved him so much. no one ever would again. you were once in a life time. he lies to himself, tells himself that he wants to find you to get you help, that he would bring you to a psychiatrist and work through your issues together. but he won’t. he knows he won’t, distantly. because whatever is wrong with you to make you stalk someone is what makes you fully, totally and unnaturally his. so yes, he cares about you. yes, you make him harder that what he humanly thought is possible. yes, you scared him a little to start with. but you’re a kitten, clawless in his palms. he wants you to be happy. maybe he doesn’t need to make you better to make you happy. he just needs to accept you as his. if only he could track you down. force you to accept his love like you made him accept yours. because he had no choice, and now he wants choice. he wants you to feel him, in every way. but it’s not fair, because you can find him and he can’t find you. it drives him crazy. as crazy as you are.

no because the power dynamics really do shift.... he starts thinking about how if he really pushed you - threatened to stop talking to you, throw away your notes - you'd crack. but he's come to care about you and he can tell through texting you that you haven't had the best upbringing. you suffer from insecurity, even worse than he does, neglect from both parents - you essentially have no one - no friends, no family, all you have is art.

but presses in little ways, i want to touch you so bad. god, i want your pussy on my tongue. you want me so bad - i love that. you said your virginity is mine? that you're saving it for me? well, i want it. i want to feel you on my cock when i stretch you open for the first time. i wanna see your face when i give it to you.

and you're so needy for it. you never thought art would talk to you like this - there's honestly alot you didn't account for that you should have. you didn't account for how it would feel to be wanted by art. to be wanted at all. you didn't account for how it'd feel to read his messages and feel your self control get thinner and thinner - your fingers aren't enough - you cry on them, weep, because its just not enough - they dont fill you how they should - and art -

god he sends you a video of his cock. says the name he'd given you that might as well be your real name now, hearing it from his lips makes you come alive alive alive - "birdie - fuck -" when he cums and his abs clench and thick ropes of white paint his stomach -

and you wanna taste it so bad - wanna lick it - he rubs the cum onto his fingers and spreads it back over his pink dick - "you should be here." he tells you, and the way he's looking into the camera feels like he really does see you, is really looking at you, there kneeling between his spread legs. "you should be licking me clean."

and you should, you should, you should.

you want to but. whenever you think about him seeing you your stomach rolls itself into knots. it'll kill you if his face twitches in disgust or disappointment. it'd genuinely kill you.

you start thinking - isn't the fantasy nice? is there really a need to meet? maybe you could he content with this.... with being his secret.

you text him one night - I've been so happy lately. why risk it with reality? reality is always disappointing to the fantasy.

im going to call you.

i cant talk..

yeah, i know. I'll talk. just listen.

your phone rings and you pick it up, chewing on your nails. you hear the exhale of his breath on the other line and wonder what he's doing right now. sitting at his desk? his bed? crossed legged or lounging? is the phone tucked between his shoulder and cheek so he can fiddle with his hands or is he holding it to his ear?

he says, "you've fucked me up real bad."

your frown. lips parting but of course you don't speak. he can hear you breathing, though. knows you're listening Intently, as you always are.

"really, do you know that? i used to be normal before you. like - this is fucked. what you're doing. but you made me want it - you said all these -" he sighs. shakes his head - "you said all these things and you made me feel shit and now i can't even be mad at you for it because if you're fucked in the head then so am i for wanting you anyway. but i can't keep -"

he looks at the shoebox he has filled with your notes. almost so full the lid can't even stay fully on.

"- i can't keep doing this, birdie. i dont even know your real name - i know what your pussy looks like but not you - that's insane. Its not enough."

your heart trembles. not enough, you think. not enough, not enough, not enough, not enough. not. enough.

"i need more. I'm graduating next year and - I'm leaving, do you get that? im not staying."

tears prick your eyes. you hadn't wanted to think about that. why was he poking holes in everything?

ill just follow you, you think. ill follow you anywhere.

"and I'll find someone - someone thats not you. and I'll fall in love with her and you'll have to watch that. and i can't prevent it because. well, you know me. i want a family. i want that boring white picket fence life. i want a wife and babies and - im going to have it. with or without you."

he lets that sink in before he continues.

"and im not even saying you're her - i have no fucking idea what could happen when we meet. but. i want to - I just want to see you - "

you hang up. its the first time you've done it.

[ramblingoak]

Ok @blacktie-whitenoise I went with Papa Copia and choice #1! But first we have to get through some phone sex oh noooo...

Ring Ring

Papa Emeritus IV x Female Reader ~ Your work day is interrupted by a phone call from Copia

Warnings: phone sex, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, nsfw, 18+ only, mdni, 2400 words

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

“Cardinal Alero’s office, how can I help you?”

“Do you have any idea how badly I want to fuck you right now?”  You froze at the sound of Copia’s voice.  It was dark and low, his breathing ragged.  The only time his voice got like this was when—  “Well, dolcezza?  Do you?”

With a quick glance over at Alero you cleared your throat before you answered. 

“Uh, I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I’ve been thinking about burying myself inside of you all day.”

Fucking hell.  

“Oh?  That’s too bad.”

“Si, it has made the day very interesting.  Long.  Hard.  If you understand me.”

“Yes!  Yes I understand.”

Very faintly you heard the sound of his belt clinking and the rustling of fabric.  Copia let out a loud groan and you could only guess he had taken himself in hand.  You spun your chair away from Alero’s desk so your back was to him.  It was doubtful the Cardinal had heard Copia, but you knew Copia was only going to get louder.  

He never was very good at keeping quiet. 

“I wonder what that old bastard would do if I were to come in there right now, oh cazzo, and bend you over your desk.”

You snuck another glance at Alero over your shoulder, freezing when you saw him watching you.  

“I, uh, don’t think he’d like that.”   Alero raised his eyebrow and you gave him a quick smile before spinning away.  “Can I call you back?”

“No.”  Copia’s chair creaked as he exhaled into the phone.  “I wouldn’t do that anyway, dolcezza.  I’d have to get you wet first.”

“Don’t worry Papa, that won’t be a problem.”  You squirmed in your seat, your body starting to respond to Copia’s words.  Vaguely you heard your name but you thought it was just Copia saying it under his breath.  “How about I bring you those files right now?”  

“Wet already?  What a naughty thing you are.  Are you having dirty thoughts about your Papa?”

“Yes, of course I am you idi—“

“Is that Papa?”  You yelped at the sound of Alero’s voice, jerking your head around to see him standing behind you.  When you nodded he reached out a hand and snapped his fingers.  “Give me the phone.”

“Do not give him the phone.  Tell him to fuck off.”

A somewhat delirious laugh left you and you covered the receiver with your hand. 

“Cardinal, Papa says not to worry.  He knows you’re busy.”  Copia snorted and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as well.  “He appreciates your hard work.”

“The only thing that’s hard right now is my dick.”

Alero frowned down at you and you could tell he was debating if he should insist on the phone or just take the compliment and sit back down.  Thankfully he seemed to choose the latter, a smug smile on his face as he turned to go back to his chair.  You slipped your hand off the receiver and turned away from him once more.

“What else can I help you with Papa?”

“Tell me dolcezza, are you wearing underwear?”

“No, Papa.”

“Mmm, so you’re just sitting there, bare for your Papa?”  You hummed into the phone, spreading your legs a bit unconsciously.  “If I was there right now I’d slip my hand under your skirt, then push two fingers right into your needy cunt.  Because that’s what you are right now, eh dolcezza?  Needy for me?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Molto bene.  Soon I'd be able to fit a third inside of you and watch as you made a mess of my gloves.”  You thunked your head against the back of your chair, immediately sitting up again when you remembered you weren’t alone.  Copia let out a strangled moan and you winced, hoping Alero hadn’t heard it.  “Would you clean them for me?  If I shoved them into your mouth?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Brava ragazza.  You’d do anything I asked of you, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything, Papa.”

“Bene.  Then come here so I can fuck you.”

Copia hung up the phone and for a few seconds you just sat there staring at it.  When it started beeping you scrambled to get it back in its cradle while looking for something on your desk you could use as an excuse to go see Copia.  Alero cleared his throat and when you looked over at him he was scowling.

“What’s the problem?”

“I uh, need to bring some paperwork over to Papa.”

“Why can’t he send a ghoul to come get it?”

Goddammit Alero.

“I'm not sure.”  You grabbed a random stack of paper and hastily stood up.  “He needed them right away.”

“Fine, but don’t dawdle.  There’s still a lot of work to do.”

You nodded, biting down on your lip savagely before you retorted with ‘yes, your work’.  With quick steps you left the office and did your best not to run towards Copia’s.  At the end of the hallway you turned right but immediately had to stop as you ran into someone.

“Shit!”  Copia’s hands grabbed at your elbows to help keep you upright.  “What took so long?”

“I had to come up with an excuse for Alero!”  You slapped the papers onto Copia’s chest and pushed past him.  “Now hurry up.”

Copia chuckled as he quickly followed you, coming up to your side and grabbing your hand.  You knew if you looked at him he’d have that stupid, dopey smile on his face and you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself from kissing him in the hallway if you saw it.  As you both rounded the last corner before his office you froze at the sight of Sister Imperator and Nihil waiting right outside his door.  Copia cursed under his breath and wrapped an arm around your waist, quickly tugging you back around the corner.

“Now what, Papa?”  Copia muttered something in Italian before starting to usher you across the hall towards a closet.  He ripped it open, gently pushing you inside before following and kicking the door shut.  You both stood there in the dark for a moment until you heard Copia make a small noise when he found the light switch.  As the room came into view in the dim light you sighed.  “You always take me to the nicest places.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s a closet.”

Copia rolled his eyes and started walking your way, you started to back up playfully but there really wasn’t anywhere to go.  Your butt hit a desk that was shoved up against the wall and Copia grabbed your waist, grunting as he lifted you up to sit on the edge.  He placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them as he grinned at you.

“Are you still wet for me, dolcezza?”

“Right now I’m mostly dusty.”

He started to respond but instead he had to turn his head away to sneeze.  You slapped your hand over your mouth to cover your laughter, trying to look innocent when he whipped his head back to glare at you.

“Sorry, Papa.”

“Uh, mi dispiace, this is not how I planned the afternoon to go.”

“Oh Copia, it’s ok.”  You reached up and brushed some of his graying hair off his forehead before cupping his cheek.  “This is still better than dealing with Alero.”

Copia laughed, leaning in to give you a lingering kiss on your mouth.  He nipped at your lips when he pulled away before resting his forehead against yours.

“Let’s see if we can get back on track, eh?”  He kissed you again and then dropped to his knees with a grunt.  His hands squeezed your calves briefly before they began to move up to your thighs.  The leather of his gloves was warm against your skin as he started to push your skirt up towards your waist.  He lowered his head to the inside of your knee, mouthing at the sensitive skin there for a moment before he looked towards your cunt and took a deep breath.  “It smells like you’re still wet for me, dolcezza.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, you just pulled your skirt up all the way to expose yourself.  His eyes darkened when you spread your legs and he was able to see your folds glistening even in the dim light.  Copia grabbed the bottom of your thighs and lifted your legs up so they hooked over his shoulders.  His hands moved down to grip your ass, holding you in place as he pressed his face against your cunt.  He took another deep breath, growling when you wriggled a bit.

“Copia, please.”

His tongue sliding between your lips was his only answer.  Slow laps across your cunt over and over again.  You placed your hand in his hair and held on as he continued to lap up your juices.  His moans were getting louder so you tugged his hair to try and get him to quiet down.  In retaliation he covered your cunt with his mouth, sucking hard and causing you to cry out.  You both froze, meeting each other’s eyes as you waited to see if anyone had heard you.

“Hush now, do you want the whole abbey to hear you?”

“How about you make me?” 

Copia nipped at the inside of your thigh and you barely held in your gasp.  Before you could snap at him he pulled your legs off his shoulders and stood up, leaning in to take your mouth in a hungry kiss.  You moaned as you tasted yourself, grabbing onto his vest to keep him in place.  He pulled you closer to the edge of the desk so he could grind his cock against you.  It was straining against the ties of his pants and you quickly dropped your hands down to start undoing them.

“Si, cazzo.  I need to be inside of you.”  While you struggled with the ties he pressed his fingers against your entrance, both of you groaning when two of them slid right in.  Copia bit his lip and rested his head against yours.  “I knew it.”

You finally got his pants undone and shoved down far enough to free his cock right when he started prodding a third finger at your entrance.  

“Now Copia, now please now.”  

He pulled his fingers out of you, swiping them quickly up and down his cock before he pressed forward.  You dropped your head onto his shoulder as he started pushing in.  As your body stretched around him you bit at his shirt to try to keep quiet.  He was relentless, not even pausing until he was all the way inside.  The material of his pants was rough against your thighs as he began to move his hips in a small circle.

“So wet, so tight for your Papa.”  You didn’t bother trying to respond, you knew if you opened your mouth no words would come out.  When he slid a hand into your hair and gently pulled your head back you couldn’t help but whimper.  “Let me see you.”

You both panted into each other's mouths as he let you get used to his cock.  He moved his hand out of your hair, stroking a thumb across your cheek before pressing a soft kiss onto your mouth.  You hummed against his lips, then took a deep breath as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Help me stay quiet.”

“Anything, dolcezza.”

Your mouths connected again in a clash of lips and teeth right as he pulled out and thrust back into your cunt.  His thrusts were hard and fast, neither one of you having the patience for anything else.  You nipped and sucked at each other’s mouth, Copia thrusting his tongue in time with his hips.  The slick sounds of both filled the air of the small room and even though your moans were muffled you knew that anyone walking by would be able to hear you both.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The edge was coming quickly, your orgasm ready to tear through you as Copia angled his thrusts so his cock brushed against that sweet spot inside of you.  With the way his movements were becoming more frantic you knew he was close as well.  He broke away from your mouth and you forced your eyes open so you could look into his mismatched ones.  

“Are you close, dolcezza?”  His voice was wrecked and his makeup an absolute mess.  You tried to speak but all you could do was whimper and clutch at his shoulders.  “Are you going to come on my cock?”

You managed a nod, your mouth opening in a silent scream when he brought a hand to your cunt and started rubbing his thumb around your clit.  That was the end for you, he kissed you again right as your orgasm ripped through your body, muffling both of your moans as he came as well.  He continued to thrust as his cock kicked and emptied inside of you before finally stilling, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.  After a moment you finally found the energy to speak and lifted your head off his shoulder.

“I don’t want to go back.”  

Copia opened his mouth to respond but he immediately scrunched his face up, turning away right before a sneezing fit overtook him.  He stumbled back a few steps, pulling out of you quickly and making you gasp.  You looked around for something he could wipe his nose with, finally seeing a roll of paper towels on a shelf nearby.  With a wince you hopped off the table, grabbing a few towels and shoving them his way while you took a few to clean yourself up.  When you finished you turned to check on Copia, smiling when you found him staring at you and pouting.

“I wanted to do that.”  You mimicked his pout, laughing as he reached for you and yanked you close.  “That’s my favorite part.”

“Ugh Copia, you’re so weird.”

“But yet here you are, enjoying the finest closet our church has to offer.”  He leaned down to give you a quick kiss, before pulling away to look at you with a raised eyebrow.  “You can’t go back to work like this.”

“Definitely not.”

“No, you should come to my quarters instead.  I need your help with something else.”

“Anything, Papa.”  He grinned at you, that infectious smile of his sending a thrill through you like it always did.  You reached up to smooth some of his hair back as you returned his smile.  “Anything.”

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

my masterlist

my ao3

[theminecraftbee]

Joel stares at the ceiling. It’s sure a hospital ceiling alright. Grey tiles, fluorescent lights, a steady beep in the background. Great. He’s in the hospital his first day in town. He’s sure that bodes well for the future of his time in Hermiton, truly. What had he been saying to himself before he arrived? That he just had to survive one more year of high school and then he could go be a hermit in the woods or at least pass his exams to get that architecture degree he used to dream about.

“Oh, you’re awake! You’re the last to wake up. It’s just exhaustion, don’t worry. That always happens the first few times you summon your Persona. Your body gets used to it and stops trying to force you into the ground the moment you enter Real Space again eventually.”

He tries very hard not to groan out loud. If he doesn’t move or make any noise, maybe the weird guy won’t notice he’s awake. Maybe he’ll go away and like, whatever adult in town is currently supposed to be in charge of him will show up and sign some paperwork and Joel can leave.

There’s a long, awkward silence.

“You know, I can tell you’re awake. I already said so,” the stranger says.

“Shut up, I’m trying to make you go away,” Joel says.

The stranger snorts. “What, you don’t want information on your two friends you apparently risked your life to save?”

Joel… would kind of like that information, actually, but he’s not just going to say so.

“It’s not like I know them. I’ve been here five days. Idiot,” Joel says.

“I don’t know. Seems a lot like you know them,” the stranger says. “You’ll probably get to know them even more soon, after we do an assessment to make sure it’s safe for you all to enter Altered Space. It’s just been me and Scar for so long, I didn’t think other Persona users would ever show up!”

“What,” Joel says. “I don’t believe in Personas. They’re stupid. I was lucid dreaming. This is stupid.”

“Can’t you still hear yours? I think I’d go insane if I stopped.”

Yes.

“No.”

“Well then, maybe you’re the weak one. A strong Persona user would definitely still hear their Persona,” the stranger says, and look man, Joel doesn’t want to be doing this, but he can’t let ‘maybe you’re the weak one’ stand. It’s a matter of honor. Of pride.

“No, buzz off. I’m the strong one. I didn’t just awaken Pygmalion, I kicked ass using Pygmalion. Stupid Skizz and Impulse passed out immediately. And I was the only one who knew how to get to Skizz so, so, screw you, I’m super strong with your fake brain ghost thing.”

The stranger is quiet for a long moment. “Did you say you knew how to get to Skizz?”

“Yeah you just follow the evil butterflies. You should know, since you’re crazy,” Joel says.

“Oh my god,” the stranger says. “Oh my god. This changes everything.”

Something sinks in Joel’s stomach. “Wait, what does that—”

“I have to go tell Mr. Hills. Meet us when you get out of here, a doctor should let you out once you’re awake! But I have to tell him! Being able to preemptively find entrances to Altered Space! Fighting off a shadow and rescuing people your first time summoning a Persona! Me and Scar won’t have to be alone anymore!”

“No, I, uh, was lying, stop that,” Joel says unconvincingly.

“See you!” the stranger says.

“You forgot to tell me what happened to Skizz,” Joel says, finally sitting up to try to stop the stranger, but it’s too late. He’s already gone. Joel stares blankly after the space where he’d once been.

“You also forgot to tell me your name, you moron,” Joel says weakly.

He buries his head in his hands, breathes, and calls the nurse. If his strange classmate isn’t going to tell him what’s actually happening, then Joel’s going to find out for himself.

(Power throbs beneath a scar on his hand. A voice whispers agreeing remarks in the back of his head. He has way too many aches and pangs for last night—or, well, however many nights ago it was now—to be fake. But for now, he just wants to know Skizz is okay and go back to his stupid apartment and pretend none of this happened. Is that too much to ask?)