#and I have more on my plate right now than I’ll probably ever have again

[neon-danger]

New Religion stan here and I’m gagging for a drabble about the background of this song

Ask me again I dare you

[rebeliz7]

Dangerous

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Request: 32 & 64 prompts for Wanda or Natasha or maybe both😏

32. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

64. “You’re not taking me to bed. ever.” “Who said it had to be on the bed?”

…

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.” Natasha threatens you, annoyed and left eye twitching. 

She’s not being serious, at least not entirely, but you still raise your hands in surrender and lean back in your seat. 

However, her eyes stay firmly locked with yours, and you have to smile at how worked up she seems. She rolls her eyes when you smile, just like you were expecting her to, and the meeting moves along. 

You weren’t interrupting her exactly, but it’s become intensely apparent that your presence annoys the hell out of Natasha. Whatever the reason.  

Not that you go out of your way to annoy her, that’s not the case at all. The thing is, and you’ve been aware of this for a while now, you make her nervous. So nervous that she doesn’t know how to deal with you. 

No one else seems to be aware of that little fact, although the entire Avengers Team lives together for the time being. But Natasha knows that you know, which makes her angry. 

Irrationally so, you must say. 

“She’s gonna get you one of these days.” Clint warns you in a low voice. 

“Yeah, but not today.” You joke, and Clint laughs softly to himself. 

“You don’t wanna push Nat. Trust me.” 

“Oh I'm not worried, trust me.”

…

The meeting ends on a neutral note, since Sam and Bucky lost track of their target on their latest mission. A team needs to fly out to Mexico to lend a hand and things will get a move on again. 

Steve and Clint are going, and so is Shuri. This is not Shuri’s first mission, but you take it upon yourself to get her as ready as she can be before they fly out. 

She’s grown on you, in a 'younger sister' sort of way. You guess it's because she’s younger than you, and so amazingly smart, that her awe for everything you guys do endears her to you greatly. 

“Don’t get killed while I’m gone.” She tells you as you walk her into the hanger, and you’re tempted to laugh. 

“You’re going on a mission with Barton, you’re the one that should be worried. I’ll be fine right here.”

“True, but Natasha is about to kick your ass into a coma if you keep pushing her.” She reminds you, and you huff indignantly. 

“Why does everyone think she can kick my ass that easily?” You ask loudly, just as Clint comes out of the jet with a pointed look. 

“Because she can.” He deadpans. “And she will if you don’t give her some space.”

“I didn’t hear any of that.” You pointendly tell him while Shuri gives you a goodbye hug. “Still trying to process this lack of faith from both of you in my fighting skills.”

“Keep it up.” Clint tells you with another look.

“That’s what she said.” You joke, and you hear Shuri laugh too. Clint chuckles and shakes his head at you, probably thinking that you’re gonna get your ass kicked for real.  

“There’s a kid here!” Steve shouts from the jet, and you run back inside before that lecture reaches your ears.  

…

When you walk inside the kitchen you find Wanda by the stove, stirring a red sauce and your spirits instantly pique up. 

“Can I have some?” You ask, coming up behind her. She yelps in surprise, and you press a kiss on her cheek. 

“You scared me.” She smiles, her cheeks tainting red at your proximity, and you lean against the counter as she turns off the stove before checking on the pasta. “Can you set the table? This is ready.”

She’s a pro at this, and you can't resist her cooking. 

“It smells really good. My mouth is watering already.” You tell her as you set out two plates, and her cheeks grow redder. 

You smile to yourself, and can’t deny that you’re almost inclined to kiss those cheeks again, but you resist the urge. You and Wanda didn’t exactly date, but you did sleep together a few times, and you thought of asking her out properly, but the timing was never right so nothing real ever came up from it. 

Then she moved on -with Vision of all people- and you moved on too. Not that anyone was supportive when you started dating Emma Frost, and maybe you see their point now. Emma was a wild ride, to say the least. 

Shaking your head to get rid of the memories, you pass Wanda the plates. 

“Can you get another one?” Wanda asks you. 

“This isn’t dinner for two?” You ask as you go to take down another plate, and she shakes her head. 

“Natasha is here too. She went to take a quick shower, so she'll be here any minute.”

You smile to yourself. 

...

Natasha is tempted to bolt the moment she sees you’re going to join them for dinner, and you grin when you meet her eyes. It must be infuriating that you can so easily tell what goes through her mind, when she’s spent her entire life training to be unreadable. 

You know she hates it, and often wonders how you’re capable of doing it. To be quite honest, you have no idea either. You just have this sixth sense when it comes to her, that lets you read her like an open book. 

But, you keep your mouth shut all through dinner. You behave, while Wanda and Natasha chat away. You even get seconds, and fill their glasses with more wine when they get low. 

All in all, you don’t annoy Natasha at all while you eat, and you even offer to clean up while they move to the living room with a second bottle of red to continue their conversation. 

You put the dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down all the surfaces, and when you’re done you take a beer from the fridge with the intention to leave them to it. 

“You can join us.” Natasha calls out, just as you take your first sip. 

“You sure?” You ask her, and she rolls her eyes, her go-to reaction whenever you open your mouth.

“As long as you keep the innuendos to yourself, we’re okay.” She sips her wine delicately then, and you -a mere mortal- become entranced with the shape of her lips, and the sensual way in which she drinks. 

“Sure.” You clear your throat, and drink almost half of your beer in one go. 

You’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of Natasha in other, much more naked circumstances, but you’re aware that that is never gonna happen, and you’re okay with it. 

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Wanda notices after a while when she comes back with yet another bottle of red, and another beer for you. 

“I don’t want to annoy the pretty lady over there.” Natasha groans at your response, which only makes you smile. You almost can’t believe how easy it is for her to become agitated in your presence. 

“You gotta try harder than that.” She deadpans, and Wanda takes the seat next to yours instead of sitting in front of you, like she was before she went to the kitchen. 

“I’m not annoying, am I?” You ask Wanda, and she gives you this smile that you immediately feel drawn to. 

You breathe in deeply as she gives you this look that makes hot electricity run through you, and runs her fingers through your hair. You do miss her, especially when she’s looking at you like this and her fingers are in your hair.

“You’re quite charming.” She says, and you think she might reciprocate if you were to kiss her right now. 

“You see?” You look at Natasha, and she rolls her eyes, but not with malice. 

“Maybe I just don’t like you.” She says before sipping her newly refilled glass of wine, and you clutch your chest in mock offense. 

“You wound me.” You scoff while smiling, but deep down you do feel hurt by her words. Not a lot, but still. 

“Natasha likes you.” Wanda tells you then, and you’d think she’s joking if the look on Natasha’s face wasn’t so telling. 

“She does, huh?” You ask, mostly to yourself. 

“I thought there were things we agreed on not sharing with anyone.” Natasha reminds her, and Wanda shrugs lightly, the glass of wine close to her lips as she smiles. 

“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom?” She asks, and with a start you realize that she’s slightly drunk, and oversharing is -unfortunately- her one obvious tell. 

That’s how everyone found out that you two were sleeping together a while ago, and right now she’s just revealed that she and Natasha are a little more than just friends.

“I swear to God, if you even think of saying anything right now.” Natasha threatens you, and you laugh, your comeback at the tip of your tongue. 

“She likes you too.” Wanda tells Natasha, her finger pointing at you, and you choke on your beer. 

“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker here.” Natasha’s grin is otherwise telling of how amused she’s finding this entire exchange. 

“What? It's not like I even had to look inside her head to know that.” Wanda says, and you finally put your beer down after getting your coughing fit under control. “I’m not wrong, am I?” 

She has the audacity to shoot you a smug look, as if she wasn’t throwing you under the bus here.

“Well, no.”

“Great.” Natasha sneers. 

“Okay, now hold on.” You speak up as Wanda laughs, and you take the glass of wine from her hands. She’s had enough to drink. “There are different levels of liking someone.”

“Educate us, please.” Wanda is trying to hold back laughter now, and you really - she’s just - she’s such a little shit.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick Nat out of my bed. But, I’m not interested in anything more than that. No offense.” You add quickly.

“None taken, and you’re not taking me to bed. Ever. So don’t worry about it.” Natasha tells you, and how can you not take that one? Sometimes she just makes it easy for you. 

“Who said it had to be a bed?” You retort and her face turns red, and you’re not sure if she’s about to kick your ass or just shoot you on the spot.

However, you’re not expecting her to walk over, and kiss you dead on the lips. Which is exactly what she does. 

When she pulls back Wanda is laughing, and you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Natasha asks when you finally open your eyes, and you swallow with difficulty. 

Without waiting a beat you pull her back in, kissing her again, a bit more forcefully than she did first, and she kisses you back in earnest. A part of you isn’t sure of what’s happening, but the other part of you is enjoying this turn of events quite a bit. 

“Well, well, well.” You comment when she pulls back, as if she’s finally realized what she was doing. If you’re smiling like a lunatic it’s only because you truly can't help it. 

“Is anyone going to kiss me?” Wanda asks, and you break eye contact with Natasha to look at her. 

“Come here, you needy monster.” You pull her onto your lap, and she straddles you with ease and familiarity. A pretty smile on her pink lips as she cups your face, and you wrap your arms around her waist. 

Kissing Wanda is still heaven. You’re once again submerged in her world, and you still find it incredibly addictive. She bites your bottom lip softly as she rocks her hips forward to meet yours, and you can’t help but let your hands wander. 

Grabbing a handful of her ass you pull her closer to you as she deepens your kiss, and you can taste the red wine on her tongue. Her breath is hot as she breathes heavily into your mouth, and your mind becomes fuzzy with want.

“Such a good kisser.” Wanda says against your lips, and you smile sweetly. She’s so adorable, especially from this angle, and the way she scrunches up her nose makes you want to kiss all over her face. 

“Better than me?” Natasha asks, and to your surprise you turn your head to find her sitting right next to you. 

“I’m not sure.” Wanda says with a false thoughtful look, and hidden smile. 

Natasha doesn’t give her a verbal answer, instead you watch the redhead grab Wanda by the neck, and pull her down for an intense kiss that has Wanda moaning in a matter of seconds. 

You watch them kiss while holding Wanda’s hand, and your throat dries up. You watch, and realize that this is actually happening. You watch until you can’t anymore. 

Grabbing a hold of Wanda’s arm you pull her back to you, and kiss her hungrily. She’s still moaning, her hands now desperately pulling off your shirt, as you do the same with her sweater. 

You hear Natasha softly chuckling next to you, but you’re already too wrapped up in everything that Wanda is to care about the world, let alone Natasha’s smug laughter. 

“I’ve missed your lips,” Wanda says as she pulls back slightly, a tipsy smile on her extremely kissable lips. 

You smile while your hands squeeze her bare waist, and you don't hold back from kissing her again. You’ve missed her lips too, and you hope she can read between the lines. 

Her hands in your hair pull back lightly, exposing your neck as she moves to place heady kisses all over it. You’re breathing rapidly now, your hands massaging her breasts, as she licks a path up your throat, still pulling on your hair. 

“Kinda feeling left out here.” Natasha’s voice breaks through the fog in your mind, and Wanda sits back on your lap, as she tries to get her breathing under control. 

“I’m not sure of what's happening exactly.” Wanda says as you inch closer to her. Your hands are still on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin as you can, while she combs back your hair. You kiss her upper breast, careful not to leave any hickies, despite desperately wanting to. 

She gasps, and you look up to kiss her lips, focusing on pinching her nipples now as she rocks her hips forward. 

“You want to stop?” You ask after pulling back only the necessary amount to be able to ask her that. 

“No.” She shakes her head, her hand gently caressing your cheek as she looks into your eyes. “I think I want you both.”

Instinctively you look towards Natasha, who is still holding her glass of wine, and sipping the red liquid delicately as she observes the two of you. 

“Do you - ” Wanda grabs your chin, making you look at her. “Do you want me?” She asks, and you move to pull her ever closer to you. As if that’s possible.  

“Always.” You nod quickly, and as you kiss the corner of her lips she turns to look at Natasha with the same question. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about that.” You hear Natasha say, but you refuse to stop kissing every single inch of her skin to look. 

“I don’t?” Wanda asks breathlessly, your mouth doing wonders on her neck, while your hands reacquainted themselves with the rest of her body. 

“You don’t.” Natasha says, and she sounds much closer now. Her voice is more sultry than you've ever heard it before, and you pull back, if only to see the look on her face. 

You watch her take Wanda’s outstretched hand as she stands, and pulls Wanda on her feet as well. You swallow with difficulty as you watch her kiss Wanda softly, lips merely ghosting over each other. 

However fleeting the kiss though, you see Wanda’s legs quiver and Natasha’s arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright. 

“Bedroom?” She asks her with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer, and Wanda nods, as if in a daze. 

You watch them walk away, and you try to calm your racing heart, but it’s difficult when Wanda turns to you from the hallway. 

“You coming?” She asks you, and you’re pretty sure that your brain short circuits. 

You stand up, picking up your unfinished beer, and down it in one go before you nod, and walk towards her. 

“That's what she said.” You stupidly joke, and Natasha rolls her eyes expectedly, but now you see that the edge in her eyes isn’t entirely hate. 

“Incorrigible.” Wanda smiles as she grabs your hand, and pulls enough for you to fall into step next to her. 

“You’re dangerous.” You murmur close to her ear as you wrap your arms around her from behind, and she throws you a side glance, feigning innocence. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” She says, and Natasha chuckles lightly as she unlocks the door to her bedroom. 

“Sure you don’t.” She says as she pulls Wanda in for a demanding kiss, and you close the door behind you. 

Well, you think to yourself, Natasha might actually end up killing you after all, but at least it’ll be pleasurable for the both of you. 

...

[whitemancumslut]

please more dadrry i am begging you. literally on my knees right now. i need more he is genuinely the hottest man ever and i am delusional enough to believe i am married to him. PLEASE

LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO

SUMMARY Y/n and Harry have sex in the kitchen.

CONTENT WARNING, smut (Minors DNI), UNPROTECTED KITCHEN SEX, oral (fem receive), creamiepie

WORD COUNT 3,582 words

i don’t know if you want smut or fluff so i gave you heavy smut:) we all love dadrry! enjoy this till the next harry x angel is out.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” The small child apologizes softly with her voice full of innocence, when the small blue cup tips and the lemonade spills on her father’s grey t-shirt, immediately printing a dark patch on the fabric. Fortunately, Harry caught the cup before it could drop on the floor. Harry’s quick to give his child an assuring smile, shaking his head. The cool beverage sinking into his shirt, sticking against his skin uncomfortably, but he’s brushing it off, not wanting his baby to think they did wrong.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s not a big problem, just a little spill, alright?” The little girl nods then scoops up a spoon full of mac and cheese while her dad grabbed napkins for his shirt.

A curious Y/n walked out of the laundry room just to see her husband removing his t-shirt. As old as they were, the years they’ve been together, it never failed to make her heart skip a beat. The back muscles came into view. As if she was 18 all over again, seeing this beautiful tatted teen for the first time. His toned back and his tense muscles relax as he finally got the wet cotton off him.

When he turns to see his wife he nodded towards her, acknowledging her presence in the room.

“What’s going on in here?” Harry’s head swoons l to the warm chirp of his wife’s voice. She stands in her dark red pajama silk set, her hair tied up, the sight forming immediate heart eyes in his pupils.

Their son was first to speak out, “She spilled her juice on Daddy!” Maeve’s eyebrows knitted as she’s appalled her brother called her out. “No, no. It was an accident,” She whined, dropping her small spoon on her plate.

“It was an accident, darling. Don’t worry about it anymore. You two finish up soon.” Harry told his his daughter before looking up at Y/n asking, “Did you already throw in the load?” He asks, patting down the damp area, the smell of lemon reflecting off him. He walked closer to Y/n, who gave him a nod.

“Yes, but thankfully I didn’t start it yet. I came out when I heard… this.” She grinned, referring to his wet shirt. She steps closer to him taking the shirt from his hands saying, “I’ll take this. Can you get the plates in the sink and baths ready?”

“Yes and yes. Thank you, love,” he said, pressing an innocent kiss to his wife’s temple with an arm around the small of her back. Little did he know that started a fire in her.

Being in love for almost two decades now, had four kids, and he still turned her on. Not much has changed. Yes, he grew a little belly but the dad bod look on him turned her on more. Yes, he grew a bit grey but it was even hotter. He was still the sexiest man she’s ever met. This weekend resulted in two out of their four children being home. For the weekend, their thirteen-year-old daughter and fifteen-year-old son spent the night at their friends’ house. Fortunately, they’re together because the friends are also siblings and Y/n and Harry trusted their parents, Ruth and Austin, considering they have been friends for years. They missed the kids, greatly. But it wasn’t like they were fully free to do whatever. They still had the two youngest in the house, and usually, they are a handful when their older siblings are around to bother them. But now they don’t have anyone to both but each other.

Harry and Y/n’s sex life was probably better than the average married couple’s with four kids. Although, as the kids grew older and more to themselves, Harry found himself getting less private time with his wife. The teens became teens who stayed up past midnight, whether it’s listening to music, binging their favorite shows, playing a video game, or on FaceTime with their friends, they were up. The two parents didn’t completely lack a sex life because they were always willing to have each other— just depending on the circumstances.

The rest of the night she couldn’t help but have butterflies in her tummy whenever her husband would do something. He looked really hot. A little excited she got that familiar feeling of arousal in her core as much as it pained her all night.

But about 30 minutes after the kids baths, they were sleeping safe and sound. Just tucked in by their mommy, hugs and kisses from both mommy and daddy. Y/n finally was able to act of her arousal. Walking down the stairs to see Harry was scrubbing the plates, deciding it’ll be quicker if he hand washed. His wife watched as his hand moved with the soapy towel he scrubbed with.

Y/n walked behind him, the sudden hand on his back made him jump a bit. “It’s just me,” She chuckled. He smiled as she pecked his shoulder comfortably. The kids are sound asleep,” She told him.

“Yeah? Did you check on Lily and Eli yet?” Harry asked on the children who weren’t in the house at the moment. It was hard enough to let them hang out with friends let alone a sleepover. But as the kids got older it got a little more easier to be more trusting of them not the outside world. They were mature, honest, trusting teens. It made the couple feel a whole lot better since they became friends with two siblings and are with each other all the time. Every other hour, they would shoot out a text to one of the teens phones, just making sure they’re okay. Always a good morning and goodnight text.

Y/n hummed softly against his soft skin. “Yes. Ruth told me they ordered pizza tonight,” She watched as his veins that were in his hands poked out as the dish soap fell down his wrist. Her stomach churning and her head gone black for a second as he scrubbed Maeve’s plate. He smelt delightful, she couldn’t put a exactly a name to it though. But it was making her even more horny.

That’s when Y/n inhaled and exhaled deeply, her breaths making the hairs in Harry’s skin stand up. She called his name gently. The little nickname, H, making his ears grow to listen to whatever his love was to say next. The hand of the woman trails on his back and across his muscles. “What do you say you and I head back to the bedroom, hmm?” She questions sweetly, though her voice is seducing as she stroked his tatted arm, watching as he stopped scrubbing the pan and looked down at his wife. So beautiful. Her eyes gleaming up at him.

Then, Harry began to feel her touch grow less innocent.

Harry turned to take a peak up at the staircase like he expected two little feet to ruin what could’ve been/ what was about to happen. His brows raise, “Really? Right now?” Already growing excited in short anticipation. She nodded, “Please.” Harry’s hands let the plastic plate he was washing fall inside the sink, clashing with pans. Before she could make a complaint about the loud noise, he grabbed her face in his hands, closing her mouth shut. She’s quick to note the change of demeanor and the meaning in his eyes that soon turned lustful. His grasp on her face making her arousal release from her, unwillingly. Pressing their lips together, Harry kisses her passionately, swearing to not waste this moment.

His lips top hers as he took the breath she breathed out. Allowing him to take control of her and the kiss. Harry tilted his head as did his wife, their lips fitting together like puzzle pieces. A fuzzy-headed Y/n pulls away from the kiss, due to her lack of air, “Fuck, H,” She huffed out mid-kiss, the opening of her mouth allowing his tongue to hungrily sweep past her lips and lick inside her mouth. Hands now on her waist, moving her back until her bum hit the kitchen island.

They made out like they needed this. They made out like two horny teens who only see each other two days of week. They made out like they were desperate for each others touch. Her hands met the back of his head, gripping his curls, prying him away from her mouth. Her intentions were to tell him to take this to the bedroom but his eyes dart to the view of her neck and dive down to hungrily suck on the skin. Savoring her flavor, sucking feverishly on her skin. His hands finding anywhere on her body. Her hips, her ass, her thighs.

Y/n pulled back from the kiss, eyes locked on Harry’s swollen lips pink lips that were soon shining when he darted his tongue across. The breathtaking woman in front of him is about breathless. Wanting more of her, Harry pulled her closer going in for another kiss but she pulled back again. “Fuck, baby. Let’s take this to the bedroom,” She moaned, trying her hardest not to prop herself up on the counter and have him fuck her right then and there. But it’s like he read her mind. Harry says, “How about I take you right here?” He replies huskily against her skin causing her thighs to tremble, and voice to stutter. Before she knew it he’s muttering the word, jump, and she’s hoisted up in his arms, letting him slide her on the counter. She was too horny to turn down his idea.

Running her fingertips on his broad naked shoulders, flames traveling through him. His cock grows harder the more her hands are on him and the more she moans against him. “We gotta keep it really low,” He tells her, sinking down to his knees as his fingers hook on the waistband of her pajamas. Once they’re down to her ankles, Harry doesn’t bother finishing the job because once he sees the wet patch in her red underwear he loses it. He huffs out a low, fuck, and let’s his hands ride up her thick thighs.

Y/n peaks down at her husband, making heart clenching eye contact but it breaks when her eyes trail down to his lips. A wide smirk spreads. “Shit, you’re so wet, honey.” He chuckled, almost mockingly. No shit, she thought. “You’ve must’ve been like this all night all huh, baby?” His voice is in a cooing tone as if he was mocking the act of sympathy. He rises up to his feet, placing himself in between his love’s thighs. His palm gets hot as it finds it way against her clothed pussy. That sensitive area heated and aching for attention.

She sucks in a sharp breath as his fingers clamp and he grips her pussy. Huffing out a desperate, yes, her voice is low, afraid she’ll awake her sleeping children. Gripping in the counter, practically bruising her fingertips. “Can you fuck me please?”

Her husband completely dismisses her question before asking, “You like when I do that to your pussy, hmm, darling?” Receiving a nod from his wife, he pats her sensitive clothed cunt like a dog, an unholy moan slipping from her throat. She answers, “Yes I do.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve actually been in you huh? Bet you all tight and shit, huh?”

She nods mindlessly, mentally begging him to just fuck her but damn he was enjoying himself. “I am, Harry,” She whimpered hopelessly. Ending her sentence with a small, please, a whimper following, as she did a small grind with her hips against his hand.

At this point, Harry’s breaths are hitting Y/n’s face as he slid his hand inside the waistband of her underwear, making her breath hitch and her to grip the countertop. Immediately going to her clit, pressing down and rubbing softly. She moans, throwing her head back, hair falling back on the counter.

Harry discreetly slipped one finger her small hole, her hole so soaping wet he just slid in. Tight, she was. She lets out a raspy, fuck, grinding her bare bum against the counter.

Harry leans in, allowing her to grab onto his shoulders, soon wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oh my fucking—” She digs her fingernails into the back of Harry’s neck as he slips in his ring finger.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re suffocating my fingers, baby.” He chuckles lightly, fingering her feverishly. “So. Fucking. Tight,” He purrs against her lips, licking into her agape mouth, finally locking their lips together after teasing her. He plunged his fingers inside her soapy, cock-deprived cunt. Crooking both fingers as she threw her head back at the toe curling sensation. She let out an unholy cry and mewl when her thighs tense as Harry finger fucks her so good.

Harry’s tongue plays with hers, getting all of her tastebuds. Savoring the taste of each other, the two moan as Y/n’s arousal trails down Harrys wrist. He continues the amazing pace and in and out—crooking motion with his fingers as she release a like of curse words when her first orgasm of the night is near. Repeatedly hitting her g-spot, Harry talks her through as he breathing gets out of rhythm. His words go muffled as her breathing and moans get louder.

The last words she heart before her orgasm were…

“Feels like forever since Ive been in you.”

“You’re going to come, babe? I know, I know.”

“Cum on my fingers, baby.”

His words are her confirmation. Her thighs shook, her feet banged gently against the lower cabinet as Harry’s eyes roll over her whole body. She trembled as her toes curled, her stomach churned, and eyes rolled back just as her cum slowly spills out onto Harry’s digits.

A high pitched moan crawls up her throat and out her mouth, she rides out her orgasm on the pads of his fingers. Her breaths are quick and uneven. Desperate to catch her breath. “There you go, so pretty. Fucking gorgeous,” He praised and guided his wife through it. Her around hooked around his neck lightened up and slid down his naked torso.

“Fuck,” Y/n heard the low groan causing her to look up to see her husband looking off her cum off his fingers. “So sweet,” He purrs. Harry looks down, making Y/n follow his gaze. His cock was fighting against the shackles of his sweatpants. “I’m not done yet, baby. My cock is so hard. Jus’ know it was jealous when it saw my fingers fucking you,” he smirks.

“Want you inside me. N-now,” She huffs, her cunt still desperate. “Please.” She watched as Harry began to pull down his sweats, peaking down as he did also began to pull down briefs. The skin of his cock is seen and she grows impatient. Her breathing just getting back to steady rhythm, her whines a little louder than before, muttering the word, hurry.

Harry shudders as the cool air of the kitchen hits his cock, that shoots up when he finally gets his pants down. Y/n whines, “God— H, please.” She doesn’t know the last time she seen his cock. Most likely last week for an early morning shag, but it was still so unfamiliar to her when she’s been with he kids and working all week.

“I know, baby. Lay back for me,” he commands politely. She does as her husband says and laid against the cold counter top, pussy on display. Her wet folds are aching with pleasure as is the rest of her body.

“Shit,” Harry jerked himself as he began to kneel. He didn’t want to take too much of her layers off in case a child was to come down the stairs but that’s why they kept quiet- so they wouldn’t wake them and so they could hear their little noises.

Harry began to kneel in front of her cunt that laid up on the counter top, head between her thighs. Y/n couldn’t see anything but the upside down living room that was set in front of her as her head was back and she awaited Harry’s affection. What she didn’t expect was for Harry to hungrily, rummage through her folds with his tongue, forcefully. Licking a wet stripe between her folds, tasting every bit of her pink pussy.

She mewls out, whining as his tongue plungers inside her wet hole. Letting out an exaggerated sob, Y/n wraps her legs around her husbands back as he kitty licked her cunt, his lips brushing past her sensitive parts. Fuckfuckfuck, she swarms on the counter, having Harry hold her thighs down as he pulls his tongue out and pressed it against her clit. Harry had his hand wrapped around his cock, moving it in a slow up and down motion. Jerking himself slowly, moaning hungrily against her sweet pussy, sending vibrations all throughout her body. Using his fingers to pull back the hood of her clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking feverishly. She cries lowly, gripping onto the tight curls that her husband determinedly grew. He growled and shook his head as the grip on his hair turned him on more and more.

He tugged on his cock, squeezing as the precum dripped down his palm. His other hand, was rubbing Y/n’s inner thigh, slowly crawling up to her clit. Pressing his thumb against her sensitive bud, his tongue dived inside her, curling up like his fingers previously did. Y/n’s cries grew louder, her body oversensitive after her first orgasm and now she’s riding his tongue, on to her second orgasm.

“Fuck. I need to be inside you right now,” He groaned as he stood up quickly. The lost of his tongue made Y/n gasp and cry out. But Harry doesn’t let her pussy go long without attention. He continues to rub her clit forcefully, before teasingly, slaps his heavy cock against her cunt, making her cry. As much as he wanted to be inside her, so so badly, her cries were fucking beautiful.

The tip of his cock pressed against her clit as it slipped down with her soapy mound. “Please, H, please.” Her quiet pleads deceive him as he finally slips his tip in, large soft hands lay on her hips as he tilts in. “Holy shit,” He curses under his breath.

His nails immediately stick inside her hips. Harry rolls his hips meeting with hers, their skin meeting and slapping. Their rhythm is slow at first. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment. His balls slap against the bottom of her folds as he fucks into her passionately.

“Oh my god,” She moans. She’s unable to keep her moans in as much as she’s like as Harry’s tipping inside her.

“Pleasepleaseplease, fuck!”

“Shh, shh. Baby come,” He whispered, pausing his thrust and tugging on her wrist. Pulling a tad, motioning for her to lift her upper body and meet him halfway. She does as he wants and swings herself up, unable to keep steady with the long heavy cock that’s stomach deep inside her. Just moving made her moan.

Harry held her lower back with his left hand, moving closer to her pressing his lips against hers. Kissing her softly, Harry rolled his hips back and forward, his cock hitting her g-spot perfectly now that she was angled up on the counter. “Argnnn, ple—” Y/n’s cries are covered by Harry’s enticing kiss, keeping her steady as they moved their hips rhythmically. His right hand moved on top of her clit, using his wide thumb to rub gently.

She whined against his lips, muffled moans, all of it satisfying him. “Jus’ like that baby. Stay quiet,” He muttered, keeping her lips on his. She would tremble in his arms whenever he hit that spot and he would groan whenever she’d tighten around him. Rocking in and out of her, the kitchen echoed with the soft sounds of their naked skin meeting.

Fuck, Harry was being nasty with it. One thing you loved about Harry was that he was great at multitasking. He licked inside her mouth, tongue finding hers as she submissively let him play inside her mouth. Their salivas mixing as Harry fucked into her cunt, their orgasms coming closer and closer. Harry’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock enjoyed her soaked cunt hugging it tight, almost suffocating it.

She could feel him so deep inside her. In her guts, just about it.

A breathless Harry pulled away from the heated kiss and said, “Fuck, I’m so close.” His thigh muscles tightening and growing sore as did Y/n’s whole body. Her body began to feel numb as her eyes roll back again in ecstasy. “So so good, H. Baby fuck, I can’t. I’m cumming,” She warned him breathlessly.

She couldn’t feel her legs. “Me too, me too. Come on baby” His breath shuddered and cracked as his cock twitches inside her cunt, spurting his cum inside her. He moans into her ear lowly as she unravels as well, her moans are high pitched, harmonizing with him. It was hot, sweaty. Curses left their mouths as their breaths are lost in the air and the search for oxygen begins. “Holy fucking shit,” He muttered. His cock warms her for just a little bit more until he slips out making her feel immediately empty. She whines as her stretched hole leaks with cum of her own and her husbands.

“Did we really just have sex on the kitchen counter?” She exhales, shaking her head.

“Yes we did angel. How about I deep clean this counter while you get us a hot bath, hmm?”

She didn’t know how she managed to walk up the stairs and into the bathroom but she did. That night resulted in late night back rubs in a warm bath and another toe curling orgasm to end the night off right.

TAGGED @watercolorskyy @gxbiqs @lolarmy72 @hsonlyangelxo @theroosterswife24 @sad1esgf @gigisworldsstuff @princessmiaelicia @justlemmeadoreyou

[littledovesnow]

young!coryo x fem!reader fluff

a/n: fluff fluff fluff i love fluff !!!!!! hoep u little snakes like it too <3

-----

Staring at the clock on the wall, you wanted nothing more than to be back in your bed, tea in your hand.

You felt the headache start not long after you woke this morning but thought nothing of it as you gathered your Academy uniform, putting the blame on the new perfume your younger sister was trying.

A soft nudge on your right drew your attention away from the clock, your boyfriend looking over at you curiously.

“Hm?”

“Are you feeling alright? You’re usually one of the few who willingly engages in this dreadful class.”

Coriolanus gestured to the literature class going on around you two, the professor going on about something or another.

Shrugging, you twirled the pen in your hand. “I’m fine, Coryo. Just a little tired.”

Narrowing his eyes, Coriolanus didn’t believe you one bit, but he also knew you well enough to realize that you weren’t going to budge.

“Grandma’am and Tigris went out for the day, you can come rest at my place after classes.” He was privy to your rambunctious home life- two younger siblings and parents who only knew how to fight with one another.

Smiling, you thanked your boyfriend before trying to focus on the rest of the lesson.

-----

Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you were half temped to bribe the Peacekeepers stationed at the back exit of the Citadel and skip the rest of your day. What you thought couldn’t get any worse had surprised you in the worst way possible.

Taking a deep breath, you made sure the slight wave of nausea was out of your system before joining your classmates in the bustling hallways, wanting to avoid a certain blonde’s eye.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You jumped as Clemensia came alongside of you, worry evident on her face.

Sighing, you felt you façade crumble just a bit, confiding in the black-haired girl. “I’m starting to think I’m getting a migraine.”

They were a rarity in your life, you could only count on one hand the number of migraines you could remember, but they gave you hell every time.

Clemensia’s worried frown deepened, unsure of how to help. “Do you want me to get Coriolanus or anything? See if Casca could spare a morphling bottle?”

Shaking your head, you softly groaned at the pain it caused. “No, no don’t get Coryo. He’s got enough on his plate already, he doesn’t need to worry about me, too.”

“You’re kidding if you think he doesn’t worry about you.” Clemensia replied, following you to an emptier hallway, taking your bag while you unscrewed the water bottle.

You gave the girl a look, dropping the now-empty bottle into your bag. “Do not tell Coriolanus. If I still feel like this in a little I’ll tell him.”

Clemensia could see it on your face, you had no intentions of telling your boyfriend, but she didn’t want to interfere, unsure of how Coriolanus would react if he head the news from someone else.

“Whatever you say. Now come on, Casca will probably put us in the Games if we’re late to class again.”

-----

Coriolanus knew you weren’t telling him something when you didn’t respond to Arachne’s dig at your clothing, something you two were known to bicker about.

He scootched his chair over towards you, lacing your hands together. “You sure it’s just tiredness? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you not bite back at Arachne, even after our anniversary.”

You felt your cheeks flush at the comment, but you chose to otherwise ignore that part of his comment. “Maybe I have a headache, too.”

Frowning, Coriolanus chewed on his lip. He knew you’ve suffered from migraines and knew that sitting in a classroom wasn’t the best way to get rid of one. “A migraine?” He whispered, not wanting to aggravate the ache anymore.

“A small one. But it’s really nothing, I’ll be fine.” You admitted, still not letting him in on the full truth. “Now shush. I’m not in the mood for Dean Highbottom to unleash whatever punishment he’ll come up with if he catches us talking.”

Coriolanus remained quiet for the rest of class, thumb rubbing soothing circles on the pulse point on your wrist.

As soon as he dismissed the class, Coriolanus was on his feet, grabbing both his and your bags. “Come on, let’s go home.”

You rose after him, grabbing onto Coriolanus’ blazer as the world tilted for a moment. “Hold on.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked, setting the bags down to hold your other elbow, keeping you steady.

“Just a little dizzy. Nothing I haven’t experienced before.”

Growing tired of your half-truths, Coriolanus let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t have to lie to me about how you feel.”

You popped an eye open, seeing worry and anger written over your boyfriend’s face. “Fine, fine. I feel like I was hit by a train, okay? My head’s hurt all day and I nearly threw up after Festus showed us his lunch.”

Coriolanus swore under his breath, helping you to your feet. “You should’ve said something earlier. I’m sure you could’ve left and rested.”

“I’m sure all would have been fine if I suddenly disappeared, Snow. Remember what happened when I left a few months ago for my grandmother’s funeral?”

Coriolanus did indeed remember; he was nearly expelled for the reign of terror he caused after noticing your mysterious disappearance.

“That’s what I thought.” You mumbled, squinting as the bright clouds increased your headache tenfold. “Jesus, when did it get so bright out?”

“I have a few train tokens left, come on. It’ll be faster than walking, and it’s darker in there.” Coriolanus passed the two tokens over to a Peacekeeper, who in turn let you two onto the train heading to the Corso.

-break-

Collapsing on your boyfriend’s bed, you hummed in content when he drew the curtains closed. The walk up to his family’s penthouse nearly took you out, but a promise of hot tea and a nap gave you the strength to make it up.

“At least change before you sleep, don’t crease your uniform.” Coriolanus toed off his shoes, moving your own heels out of the way to avoid a potential tripping hazard.

You groaned, but sat up and shed the maroon blazer and coordinating button-up shirt. “What would I do without you, Coryo?”

Grinning, your boyfriend threw on a pair of more comfortable clothing, helping you into an outfit you kept in a drawer at his place. “Suffer through Arachne’s awful opinions and Festus’ crude remarks alone, I presume.”

You blindly threw a hand out, lightly slapping your boyfriend’s thigh. “Be nice, Coryo.”

 Coriolanus laughed quietly, joining you on the bed. “Life is more fun when being bad, you know that.” He quipped, right hand going to rub soothing circles on your back. “Go to sleep, the faster you get over this migraine, the faster we can practice for our next anniversary.”

You were already nearly asleep, Coriolanus guessed, otherwise you would have had a stronger reaction than a simple snort.

-----

a/n: hey send requests that would be dope but i won't write smut it's not my vibe

[gilverrwrites]

Quick and Dirty

Pairing: Captain Boomerang/Reader

Digger has an idea, it involves highly inappropriate usage of the Speed Force Gauntlet. (Please ignore the fact that the gauntlet doesn't actually extend to the fingers - at least i'm pretty sure it doesn't)

You're currently reading the AFAB version

>[Please click here for the AMAB version]<

Rating: 18+

Words: >800

Content: Established relationship, coercion (kinda), clitoral stimulation, vibrations, dirty talk, spit, swearing.

Please remember: to do the things that make you happy.

“No. Fucking. Way.” You warn, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms defensively. “You keep that thing away from me.”

“Oh, come on, Darlin’.” Digger is still smiling, crooked, confident, casual. He gestures to the speed gauntlet strapped to his other arm. “It’s perfectly safe. You’ve seen me usin’ it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You examine the glove in question. It would be a lie to say you weren’t intrigued. You didn’t know much about the speed force beyond whatever half-truths Digger rambled on about, it seemed intricate, and unsafe. But Boomerang was a good lay, and he’d used that thing to save your skin in the field more than once, so you were willing to tentatively hear him out. “If that thing goes off midway, I don’t want my bits going with it.”

“That won’t happen… Probably.” Concern did flash across his face briefly, but it was quickly hidden by his usual bravado. He stepped closer to you, not quite close enough to touch, but enough that you could smell him, that you could feel the high energy radiating from him. Or maybe that was the gauntlet. “Have a little faith in ol’ Boomer, aye. I’ll treat you right, make you feel real good.”

“Okay… but if anything happens to mine.” You point to your crotch before gesturing to the growing erection in Digger's trousers. “I’m using yours as target practice.”

That might have been a boner killer for other men, but Digger's enthusiasm when it comes to sex or showing off knows no bounds, and this is a perfect opportunity for both. His eyes glint with mischief, with victory. He licks his lips, and you know there’s no backing out now, you’re fucked.

Digger maintains eye contact as he reaches out, there’s no pleasantries. He makes quick work undoing your trousers, hooking his gloved fingers in your panties, and pulling them both down until they’re positioned halfway down your thighs.

“What, no foreplay?” You challenge, raising your brows at him.

“You’re not gonna need it.” The look he gives you is so coy, so amused. It should fuel your cynicism, but it looks hot on him. “But, since ya asked so nicely, I guess I can spare a lil somethin’.”

He rests his unarmed hand on the wall beside you and leans in, occupying your lips with his. You’re only allowed a moment to enjoy it before you feel the brisk metal finger plates of the gauntlet slide between your slit. You hiss at the contact, and Digger pulls his hand back immediately.

“Sorry bout that. Shoulda warmed it up first.” His expression flips to sheepish as he brushes his fingers against his scarf. He blows on it a few times before spitting on his index finger and continuing. “Right, let’s try that again.”

He resumes the position, one hand on the wall, one hand slinking back between your legs, and his face just inches from yours. The temperature has barely improved, but he’s able to sink his fingers back in without causing you to flinch this time.

You’re still unprepared and admittedly unimpressed thus far as he starts circling your clit. To give him a fighting chance, you close your eyes, hoping it will help you focus on the feeling.

“Aye, no no no. Keep your eyes open.” As you follow his instruction, you hear a quiet whizzing from below, a lesser sound than the gauntlet's normal powering up. “I wanna watch your reaction.”

Then it hits you, an intense pulsing pressed against your most sensitive area, like every vibrator ever invented is being utilised on you in that single moment. The wall prevents you from being able to roll your head back, so you stare at Digger, wide-eyed as your body tingles and burns.

“Shhhhiiiiit, you like that.” His voice is dripping with fervour, and it only serves to add an extra level of throbbing to your cunt. Already approaching your climax, you’re unable to find the words to respond, instead fisting your hands around Digger's leather lapels in anticipation. “You reallllly like that, don’t ya?”

A nod is all you can manage as you begin to jerk and quiver, hitting your climax in record time. It’s hot and searing, like lightning is running through your whole body.

The tips of your fingers and toes, among other things, are still twitching as you start to catch your breath moments later. You can barely comprehend whatever Digger is prattling on about. He’s waving the gauntlet around, his arm moving so fast you can’t make it out. There’s lots of brash laughter and ‘I told ya so’s. You’re finally able to fully tune in as he muses, “How many rounds of that can handle, I wonder?”

[stargirlly]

yandere!donatello x reader. tw; attempted suicide. themes of obsession, violence and kidnapping. proceed with caution!

“you’ve been sitting here for five minutes, and you haven’t touched your dinner… you should eat."

it takes you a few blinks to come back from your dark headspace of static and noise, but you slowly return back to reality. back to the low light of the lab. his voice was like a bitter taste left on the edge of your tongue, but it awoke you from your self-induced daze.

you tugged at the cuffs on your wrist that kept you restrained to the table. your back facing the silver glow of his lab, the light enveloping you like angels scratching at the skin of your back. he noticed your discomfort at the chains and you swear there was a twitch of a smirk ghosting upon his lips.

“it’s for your own good. i can’t have you trying to run off again, can i?”

he doesn't wait for you to respond before adding, “because then you could get seriously injured! or somehow escape! and what would i do without you?”

you want to scoff, but the dry of your throat doesn't allow you to. so, with a voice full of coarse detest, you muttered out a quick “shut up, donatello,” before regretting how shaky the words snaked out of your mouth.

he doesn't reply, only giving a dry chuckle before returning his gaze to his own desk where he continues to work on God knows what.

tonight he gave you chicken, lined with rice and vegetables that you watched his hand crafted machines chop up just minutes before.

“you should eat up, you’ll need the strength for later.” he doesn't look at you as he says this. but you prefer it that way.

you don’t say anything, glaring at the cold metal that dug into your skin. and you don't dare to touch the food even though your stomach aches and twists like a rope, knawing at you for something to eat.

“i’ll be nicer on you with the experiments tonight if you do.”

you reached your free hand up to your neck and traced your fingers over the bruises and scars across your collarbone, slashes across the bone in bane. you swallowed dry air down your throat before breathing out. "you promise?”

“have i ever lied to you, darling?”

“no… but you’ve misled me.”

“i’ve told you before it was for your own good." he spoke as if he was scolding a child, or more so an experiment than a person, and you hated it.

"i suppose it is only in your nature to despise me now, but you'll understand why i'm doing this eventually."

fat fucking chance.

“but enough of my ramblings. eat, please.”

he gestured to the plate in front of you, the plate accompanied by water in a glass and a cheap fork. and by his tone of voice, you knew his words were a demand rather than a request. still you hesitated before picking up the utensil. 

you could try again.

try to take yourself out by your own accord. though he might punish you for even thinking about it… the risk worth the promise you're not sure he would even keep in the first place.

...he probably wouldn't keep his word either way. you grasped onto the fork tightly, taking a deep breath and pulling your arm back as far as the chains would let you.

and you stabbed yourself right in the throat.

or at least, you tried.

it stung like a brief needle to the skin, and nothing more. absolutely nothing.

it wasn’t even bleeding…

you hopelessly laughed at yourself, dropping the fork and feeling at your neck, begging for a wound. begging for the bitter sweet touch of blood. you hands grasped around your throat as tight as you could, tears threatening to pour out, but there was no more left to cry.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck!

your head felt heavy and your breathing was short, but it didn't do anything to stop the beating of your heart.

he grabbed you hands, pulling them away from you as he chastised you with a dark glint in his eye that you couldn't quite catch in the moment. “you already tried that on our first night.”

“don’t you remember that the utensils are plastic? you don’t think i'd trust you with metal or wooden ones, do you?”

“..no..”

“it didn’t work the first time. did you really think it would work this time?” 

“...no...”

“you poor, poor thing. we’ll deal with this later.”

we’ll deal with this later... your breathing was harsh at the intentions his words lead to. it was uncomfortable to even blink, you felt a migraine seeping into your head.

"now, eat." you didn't have the energy to fight anymore with your stomach burning your insides at the stake.

you picked up the fork again, hesitating for a moment. but without another word, you began to eat.

the worst thing about donatello, besides your relationship with him, the experiments tested on you for his own sick work of mind... was that the cooking was good. really, really good.

but he would never touch his own work. he would always place a plate of food for you, and never for him.

he told you he didn’t like to eat, he didn’t need to, he claimed. he often didn't sleep, either.

fucking hypocrite.

he watched you with glee, his eyes lighting up like flames shaping burning glass. watching you indulge in the only pleasure you have besides sleep.

he smirked as you struggled to bring the fork to your lips, both from the shackle and from the feeling of past pain.

“is it good?”

you don’t allow him an answer, not indulging him with more than what you're forced to.

you reached for the water and slowly drank. the cold stung your throat with relief and a painful cough.

tomorrow is another day.

you could try again.

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

Joel Miller x f!reader: My Special Girls

Summary: You and Joel getting dressed in the morning, Joel however is feeling a bit playful and decides to hold a piece of your clothing hostage  

Warnings: Pretty much pure fluff with hinted smut at the end but nothing more than a few smooches 💋

As always please let me know if I've missed anything!

Enjoy and make sure to like and reblog to share my work around 😊

Words: 1,2k

Mornings in the Miller household were usually hectic. Whether it was Joel being called into work early, Joel waking up late or you remembering a bake sale at Sarah’s school meaning that you had to go out and buy some cakes. There was always something. You were determined to make sure today was not that day. 

Joel was off work, you had taken a vacation day and Sarah only had a half day at school due to an event happening that afternoon and running through the summer break. Sarah was already awake, the eight year old scurrying around in her bedroom, probably trying to find a matching sock for her outfit, and your boyfriend was snoring softly beside you, one arm over his eyes and one over his stomach. 

“Turn the light off.” He groaned and you couldn’t hold back your giggle, Joel without caffeine always being an amusing event. 

“Need to get up babe. Sarah is determined that both of us will be taking her to school today.” 

“She’s nearly a third grader. Can take herself.” He grunted and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his head in the mattress and covering his ears with his pillow. 

There was a knock on your bedroom door and, after double checking that you and Joel were both decent, you allowed her into the room. “Dad…we went over this.” She whined, climbing on top of you and laying her head on your shoulder, your hand instinctively going up to tangle in her hair. 

“Time is it?” His deep voice reverberated through the mattress and Sarah turned to the clock on your bedside table. 

“Late enough that if you don’t get up right now, I’ll be late for my last day of second grade.” She sassed and Joel’s head peeked out from under his pillow and he scowled. 

“No need for the third grade sass just yet. You’re still a second grader until the end of the summer break.” You reminded and she huffed, Joel sticking his tongue out at her before his head flopped down onto his pillow again. 

“Please daddy?” Sarah pouted and you knew Joel couldn't resist her charm for too long. 

“You dressed?” She nodded. “Teeth brushed?” She nodded again. “Have you finished your final ever second grade art work.” She gasped and shook her head and Joel chuckled. “Why don’t you go finish that at the counter and me and your mom will be down soon to make breakfast and take you to school?” Sarah launched on top of him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before running out of the bedroom. 

“Love watching you be a dad.” You muttered in his ear, laughing when the tips of his ears blushed a vibrant pink. “Now get up. You need a shower and a shave before we do anything.” Joel pouted at her and she chuckled, shaking her head. “We both know that if I join you, Sarah will be late. Go shower Mr Miller.” You patted his ass as he walked past and he smirked at you, closing the bathroom door behind him as you went downstairs to help Sarah with her hair before you could get ready. 

Once ten minutes had passed and the shower was still running, you went back upstairs, Sarah’s hair done and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. “Joel? C’mon or we’re gonna be late.” You called and his head peeked around the door, a cheesy smile on his face. 

“You can come in now, I’m done.” He announced and you chuckled, moving past him and giving his half-naked body a once over. “See something you like beautiful?” He asked and you shrugged. 

“Nah, not really.” He scowled and you kissed his cheek and ushered him out of the door, giving you space to do your hair and skin care. 

Joel was almost ready once you had done, his shirt laid on the chair in the corner as he scrolled through his phone. He gave a low whistle once he saw you in only your underwear and you blushed, covering your face.

You made your way to the closet and grabbed a shirt and threw it on the bed behind you, walking over to the drawers to grab a pair of pants. When you turned back around, the bed was empty and Joel was still scrolling through his phone. “Joel Miller!” You yelled and he look up with a faux innocent expression on his face. “Don’t look all innocent at me, you know what you’ve done. Hand it over.” 

“Darlin’, you feelin’ ok?” He asked, the corner of his mouth twitching. 

“You’d be a terrible poker player, cowboy. Hand the shirt over or you have to explain to our daughter’s teacher why she’s late on her last day of school.” Joel just shrugged and looked at you.

“Why on god’s green earth would I want to take your shirt hostage? I do not feel the need to wear it and I can guarantee that I will not fit in it. Maybe you’re just imagining-.” Joel was cut off as you pressed your lips to his and laid him back on the bed, your hands on his hips. 

“Excuse me, you're going to make our daughter late for school.” He mumbled as you ran one hand down his chest and the other under his back to retrieve your stolen shirt, gripping a piece of material and Joel gasped. “Honey if you pull that I’m gonna get so wedgie powerful enough to split my asshole in half. You think I’m silly enough to hide your shirt in the most predictable place?” He asked and seemed to realise his admission. 

“So you have taken it?” You asked and he shook his head, laughing when your head fell against his chest. “I promise that the shirt can stay off-.” Joel’s ears perked up and you snorted. “But only once we have taken our daughter to school and finished our plans for the day. Now hand over the shirt or else.” You threatened half-heartedly and Joel smirked. 

“There’s a price.” He explained and you raised your eyebrow, confused. He pointed to his lips and you giggled, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, allowing him the luxury of deepening it slightly. “Let me put it on you?” He asked and you nodded. 

“S’long as you promise to never hold my clothes hostage again. At least not when we are on a time limit.” You added and Joel nodded eagerly while you let him pull the shirt over your head as he pulled it from beneath the corner of the covers. “Surprised you didn’t just throw it back in the closet.” You teased but he shook his head. 

“I know you wanted to wear this outfit. I only wanted to tease, not to crease it. Besides, you look too beautiful in this shirt for me to ruin it.” He muttered, pressing a multitude of quick pecks to your lips before grabbing your hand and guiding you down the stairs. “Forget about cooking, we’ll get McDonald’s on the way. Special treat for my special girls.” Joel announced and Sarah cheered, running out to the truck and you grinned, kissing his cheek. 

“Why the change in attitude?” You questioned and he grinned. 

“Sarah’s only at school for half a day, means we have to be back quicker than I originally planned if we want to spend the whole morning in bed.” He quipped, a dirty smirk coming across his face as you shook your head, pushing him out of the door. 

“Come on you clothes bandit. Your special girls wants breakfast.” 

[bursonafied]

Vampire simpbur would be most pathetic loser ever I think maybe

-🍡 anon !! :3

OHH MY GOSH YES!! He would be so pathetic and cold all the time… he would just want you to hold him so he could feel warm… and probably some of your blood too

I love him sm :(

ALSOOOO sorry it’s late! I got busy with classes and other things… I’m working on all requests! I have a doc with all of them on it and I’ll do my best to post one at least once a week. :)

Thank you soso much to my friend honey-with-tea for helping me come up with ideas and inpso for my piece :)

Warnings: blood, biting

Pairing: vamp!wilbur x gn!reader

Pronouns: you/yours

*not proofread*

"Please, y/n…” Wilbur begs, following you around the dim flat like a lost puppy. Ever since he’d revealed to you that he was a vampire, (crazy, right?), he would not stop pestering you. “Just a taste!” He would whine, wanting nothing more than a taste of you. your blood would be like liquid rubies to him. Like a fine wine of the highest cost.

The juxtaposition between his height and his intimidating energy was pretty comedic. Standing at a solid 5’4 seemingly made him even more pathetic. He looked like he should be taller, right?

“No! I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I swear to god, Wilbur. I had a long day at work. Someone’s dog threw up on me after waking up from surgery.” You complain, hurrying to your room to change out of your work clothes, putting on a pair of comfy pajama pants and a t-shirt. You shut the door behind you, and Wilbur just whines behind it. “Seriously?” He groans and you can her him stomp away. You step out of your room, running your fingers through your hair. your room was the only place you could get privacy in your shared place.

Wilbur is immediately beside you again.

“You’re.. pathetic.” You mumble to him. He rolls his eyes yet still follows you. He figured that bothering you would be the only way to get you to say yes. You go to the kitchen to start your dinner, and while Wilbur can eat things other than blood, but nothing could satiate his hunger for it. you start up a pot of water, taking out the pasta and sauce, then grab some frozen meatballs from the freezer. It was a simple meal and you were too tired to make something complicated. As you stir in the pasta, you feel Wilbur creep up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist. You freeze for a moment, but sigh loudly as you feel his breath on the side of your neck. He could practically hear the blood flowing through your veins. You shake your head.

“Wilbur.” You say sternly. “Don’t you dare bite me.” He listens to that much. Instead, he leans close and licks a stripe up your neck, stopping up by your ear. You shiver beneath his touch and turn your head.

“What? I listened.” He speaks in a low, snarky tone. You glance down to his mouth. his fangs. If he wasn’t a vampire that wanted to drain you of your life, maybe you’d be attracted to him. Maybe you already were, and just refused to believe it.

“You’re a pain.” “You love me.” You share a short exchange before it falls silent again. “Whatever.” You add before stirring the pasta, allowing it to boil. You cook the rest of your dinner and happily plate it, eager to dig in. You make a plate for Wilbur, just in case. You hear some light chuckles from Will before he turns to sit at the table.

Now, a few minutes later, you two sit silently at the table. You scroll through social media as you eat. Wilbur sort of pushes the food around on the plate and nibbles on a meatball, but his gaze is mostly on you.

He watches your neck, the way it moves when you swallow. The way your collarbones seemed so prominent and bite-able. He scratches at his hands, his nails scratching harshly along his skin to leave red marks. He was hungry, starving! He could barely contain it! He stares at you for a second before he stands up, the chair he sat in flies back and bangs against the wall.

“I’ll be back!” He shouts, hurrying to the bathroom. You watch him for a moment, then hesitantly turn back to your food. Suddenly, you’re not hungry. You dump the plate as well as Wilbur’s, since you know damn well he wouldn’t eat any of that. Meanwhile, Wilbur stares into the sink as his stomach cramps, he turns on the cold water and runs it over his pale hands, then splashes it over his face. He stands up and stares at himself. His hunger only increased. He would grow weaker if he continued to refuse to eat even mortal food. Would he have to resort to his vampiric tendencies and go out during the night, scouring the streets for any poor soul who happened to be alone and were weak and too nervous to fight back? Or, would you finally give in? It wasn't that hard! Was it? No! Wilbur groans. He shuts off the sink and takes a breath before slapping himself lightly to psych himself out. “Come on Wilbur. Be better, fuckin’ creep.” He mutters to himself before going back out to the living room, where you’re sat on the couch.

“Sorry! Had an emergency!” He smiles at you, but you only blink a few times out of confusion and stand up. “What happened…? You were fine five minutes ago.” “Oh! You know. Drank a lot of water today.” He lies, and you easily catch on. Curse you for paying such close attention to him. “You never drink water, you damn liar.” You cross your arms and shift your weight on your feet. Wilbur gulps, shaking his head. “I felt like it today.” “God you think I’m stupid.” You scoff with a disbelieving laugh. “What?? When did I ever say I thought you’re stupid?” Wilbur shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “You didn’t have to say it!” You retort, “You thinking your lie would work said enough.” You cross your arms over your chest and Wilbur puts his hands up in defense. “Okay, whatever. Sorry.” He mumbles. “It’s always sorry with you. Either sorry or, ‘can I please have some of your blood? Can I please have a taste? Just a bit?” Wilbur seems to shrink into himself and his face flushes, if that was even possible for him. Could vampires blush? “It’s pathetic and embarrassing! I don’t get it. Maybe the fact you—“ You pause and take a long breath.

“Wilbur.” You say after a long silence. There was only one way to get him to stop begging, and that was just to give him what he wanted. He looks up from his shameful slump and looks at you. “…yeah?” His voice is as small as his height. What a loser. “Shut the fuck up, and I’ll let you,, um, I’ll let you.. feed.” Wilbur’s eyes instantly light up. He nods rapidly and does his silly little hand-flaps he does when excited. “Yes! Really?? Oh, thank you!I’ll never ask again!!” He says, absolutely elated that you finally agreed. You take a deep breath and approach him, his eyes glimmering. “Just... don’t make it awkward.” You practically beg, not wanting it to be weird as he quite literally feeds of your blood. What am I saying,,, of course it would be weird! Your roommate would be just drinking your blood. “I’ll do my best,” He chuckles nervously and approaches you. “Are you sure this is okay?” He asks, nervously fidgeting with is hands. You shift your weight awkwardly on your feet before nodding. “As long as you leave me alone when you’re done.” “Of course.”

Another moment of awkward silence… it seemed like there were a lot of those lately.

“I…” he pauses, nervously tapping his fingers against your shirt. “Your wrist.” He says after a moment. “What?” You ask, tilting your head. “It— it’ll hurt less. And um, won’t be as much blood. Like, imagine just getting a blood sample at the doctor.” You could tell Wilbur was growing nervous. He never really expected you to say yes to… this. “Oh, right.” You whisper and nod, holding out your wrist. He grabs your arm and guides you to the couch, sitting you down, “Just incase you get.. dizzy.” He runs his thumb over the blue vein that ran along your arm, displaying the precious liquid he’s craved for so long.

His breathing picks up as he lifts your arm to his mouth. He shudders as he can feel the heat radiating off your body, and his mouth waters. He can’t take it anymore. You notice his grip tighten on your arm. “Go ahead.” You whisper after a second. Wilbur nods and then finds the perfect spot, the pulse of your wrist. He opens his mouth and without warning, sinks his fangs right into your vein. Making sure his teeth went deep enough to draw blood. You gasp at the pain, flinching slightly despite expecting it. Wilbur pulls his mouth away for a second and allows some of the blood to pool before sticking out his tongue and lapping up the blood, humming with contentment as he licks up each and every drop. You see the blood, the way it smears over his tongue and lips as he messily drinks it up. your breathing picks up, uneven. He slows down and looks up so his eyes meet yours. You two hold eye contact, Wilbur’s tongue slips out and slides along your skin, stopping the blood that beads up every time he pulls away. Your hand finds it was to his chin, light cupping it as he holds your forearm. “What’re you-“ he whispers, his face lifting from your arm so it was more level with yours. “I— I just..”you shake your head, not so sure what had taken over you. “Is this going to.. change me? You know… like..” You gesture to the bite marks on his neck that were poorly hidden with makeup, and he tilts his head. “Uh- um-“ he stutters out, shrugging. “I don’t know..” He whispers nervously. “I hope you do.” his voice is quiet. “Because I would love to spend the rest of time with you.”

Your eyes widen and your face seem to burn. The stinging in your wrist fades right before Will glances down at it once more. The blood was pooling, threatening to drip over your wrist and right onto the grey couch. You tilt his head back up to meet your gaze again. “You.. want to stay, with me?” Your voice is a bit shaky, head tilting. “Ye— yeah.” Wilbur’s gaze holds yours, he leans closer. And closer, and closer. “I don’t think I would want to spend my life with anyone else.” He adds. Just another inch, he thinks. You swallow the saliva filling your mouth, feeling slightly sick as the blood still spills from your wrist. You have no words for Will. Nothing to say in response to his sudden confession. Not that you had the chance to, because as soon as you went to speak, his lips collide with yours. You momentarily forget the feeling of blood running down toward your fingers as you feel his cold lips on yours. They’re cold, but soft. Softer than you expected. It’s slow at first but soon he scoots himself further, his lips part and his tongue hungrily presses to your lips. He’s practically begging to let him in. So, you do. You part your lips and are instantly met with the metallic taste of your own blood. Your hand moves from his chin to hold his cheek, your blood spreading across his face, in the shape of your hand. The kisses spread, his lips moving down your neck where he simply kisses your skin, but after a moment, his teeth graze your throat. his breath is hot and wet against your skin. You let out a quiet, choked sound at the feeling. Your stomach twists into knots and you can feel the emotions you’ve packed away rushing through your veins, almost at the same speed as your blood pumping through them.

“Do it,” you whisper, tilting your head back a bit. “Please..” You nearly beg, and he nods, smirking against your skin. It’s another second before you feel his fangs sink into your neck. he makes sure it’s higher up on your carotid artery so it bleeds less, hopeful you would turn, joining him in immortality. His teeth remain in your skin and your hands begin to tremble with the pain that’s followed by pleasure. Your eyes pinch shut tightly, ignoring the pain as best you can. He soon pulls away and sweetly licks away the blood before kissing the area.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been since the first bite, nor what time it was now. But Wilbur was fed and happy, so that’s what really mattered.

He comes back with a towel and glass of water for you, wiping up any of the left over blood that began to dry on your skin. You sip the water and lean back against the couch. As soon as he’s done, Wilbur sets down the towel and curls up next to you, looking up at you with loving eyes. “Thank you.” He whispers, running his fingers over the bite marks on your neck. “Hm?” You hum, looking over to him. “For.. letting me bite you and stuff.” You smile and nods, It wasn’t as big of a deal as you initially thought. “Anything to get you to stop whining.” You tease, and he just grins before rolling his eyes. “Whatever, you seemed to like it.” You couldn’t deny that so you remain silent. Wills arms snake around your waist and he pulls himself close to you. “You excited? Get to deal with me for all of eternity now.” He teases with an obnoxious kiss to the cheek. You nod.

“I can’t wait.”

[luke-hughes43]

Yes post the angst please

Stella Gets Hurt | Luke and stella

(Disclaimer, the injury aspect of this is not fully true. The how and nature of the injury is accurate but the diagnosis and treatment stuff is totally not accurate.)

(Also, I used to play softball so I might’ve gotten a little carried away with the in game detail.)

(Also can write a part 2 if you want)

Part 2

Stella’s POV

So today we were playing Ohio State at home. It’s been about 2 weeks since the hockey team was beat in the Frozen Four in Boston and Luke was devastated. But ever since his season ended, he’s been at every home game. I made the starting lineup for this game and I was batting 4th while playing center field.

It’s current the 4th inning, OSU scored in the first inning on a home run, so it’s 1-0. I am leading off the inning. The first pitch is a ball, second one is a strike, so right now the count is 1-1. I look down at coach and acknowledge the signal of swing away.

The pitch comes in right in my sweet spot and I swing and crush it. I drop the bat and run to first. I notice that the ball land over the fence as I round first and the whole team is cheering so loud. I can hear Luke and the guys cheering for me too since he brought the team with him. I have a smile on my face as I make contact with the base and my knee gives out on me.

There’s a pop and I instantly fall, clutching my knee in pain.

I cry in pain and the tears have already started flowing. I’m clutching my knee but I’m also trying to force myself to stand. At this point the whole stadium has gone quiet and I can hear Luke yell, “Stella?!.” I manage to get up and try to make a step towards second base but I fall as soon as I try to put pressure on my right knee.

I try a couple more times to get up and I eventually make it to second base but I can’t force myself up anymore. I just end up on the ground holding my knee. The trainer comes out and talks to me. He says, “What happened?”

“My knee gave out when I rounded first. I tried to keep going because if I didn’t then the run doesn’t count but it hurts so much and it just keeps giving out. There was a pop, it’s my acl isn’t?”

“Most likely. I wanna get you back to the training room so I can actually look at it. That sound good to you?”

“I wanna touch the bases first. I have to. Touching home makes it 31, I’ll officially have the single season fro homerun by a freshman. I need this. Please let me try.”

“Ok. Let me talk to the umpire, see what we can do.” He says. I get myself sitting up right finally waiting for the trainer to come back. He comes back shortly and says, “In order for the homerun to count, you have to touch the bases but no one from our team can assist you. You have to do it yourself or it won’t count.”

“Ok.” I move so that I am on my hands and knees and force myself to stand. I take a deep breath and manage to take a few steps before my knee gives out again. I hear two girls ask the umpire, “Hey blue, if we help her touch the bases, will it count?”

“Yea, I don’t see why not.” He says. The two girls come over and over a hand to me. I accept and we start our way towards 3rd. Number 3 says to me, “I’m Ashley by the way.”

“Stella.”

Number 7 then says, “Sarah. That was a great hit. We know it was for the ncaa freshman record.” Ashley then adds on, “Our schools may have a long hatred for each other but you earned this record so we wanna give it to you. Especially since your season is probably over.”

I say as we touch 3rd, “Thank you. This means more than I’ll ever be able to tell you.” I make eye contact with Luke and I can see the worry on his face. I give him a small smile with a nod and hopefully that tell him I’m ok.

“It’s the least we can do.” Sarah says.

We approach home plate and I can see my team waiting for me. I smile at the girls, we make it to home plate but stop about a step before the plate. They let go and say, “You got this. You deserve to touch the plate without help.” I smile at both of them and say, “Thank you.”

I pause and take a deep breath before taking the step to touch the plate. Once my foot touches the plate, the two girls closest to me immediately grab onto me so that I don’t fall. The whole stadium starts clapping. At this point, the adrenaline has worn off and all I can feel is excruciating pain down my right leg. Two of my teammates help me down the stairs and down the tunnel to our locker room. It was Emerson and Lauren, two girls in my grade that weren’t playing today. I say to them, “Thanks.” They nod and stay with me until the trainer comes in.

I ask him, “How bad is it?”

“I don’t know. You said there was a pop?”

“Yea. And it hurts so much.” He nods and start feeling around my knee. He says, “I’m gonna pull the pant leg up and your socks down to look at it better, it that ok?” I nod and try to fight the tears. He does whatever he has and is messing around with my knee for what feels like eternity. Eventually he says, “So, I performed a Lachman’s test, which is used to rule out an ACL injury. And unfortunately, it confirmed my suspicions. I think you tore your ACL, we’re gonna need an MRI to really confirm it but it looks that way. I’m sorry Z.”

“I figured as much. How early can we get an MRI?”

“Once the game is over, I’ll call our ortho surgeon and ask him when we can get it done. If we can get everything done early, you hopefully will be able to come back for next season, but that’s only if we get on this now.”

“Ok. I’m assuming that I’m gonna be sporting a knee brace and crutches for the time being?”

“Yea. Until we can get the swelling to go down and and the pain to decrease. I really am sorry Stella but your season is over.” He says and I can feel the remorse in his voice. I nod and don’t really say anything. He then says, “I can let someone down here for you if you want. If your family is here at all.”

“Can my boyfriend come down? He’s all I have in Michigan right now.”

“Yes. I can ask one for the girls to tell him to come down.” He says and then continues by saying, “I’ll give you some privacy to get changed out of your uniform. You’ll probably be more comfortable if you change and here’s those crutches so you can get to the locker room. I’ll leave a bag of ice for you as well.” I nod and wait for him to leave to really let the tears flow. I hobble to the locker room and change quickly before going back to the training room.

I grabbed my phone and call my mom in tears. She answers instantly, “Stella?”

“Momma?”

“Honey, what’s wrong? We were watching the game and saw you go down after you hit first. What happened?”

“The trainer thinks it’s my ACL. It hurts so much momma.”

“Oh sweet girl, I’m so sorry.”

“But I did it, I got the record. Today was 31.”

“I’m proud of you honey. Are you ok?”

“Not in the slightest. Someone is getting Luke so that I’m not alone. My season is over, I’m probably gonna need surgery. The trainer is calling the surgeon and is gonna try to get me in for an MRI tonight.”

“Ok. Do you want me and your dad to fly out?”

“Not yet. I wanna get more answers about it before I ask you guys to do that. Besides, I have finals this week and I need to study for them.”

“Ok. You say the word and your dad and I will be on the next flight to michigan.” Mom says softly. I lay back on the table and convert the call to a FaceTime. She accepts instantly and I can her face drop when she sees me. She says softly, “Oh honey. I’m so sorry. Do you want me to stay on while you wait for Luke?”

“Yes please.”

“Oh baby.” She says. We don’t say much until I hear a knock on the door. I croak out, “Come in.” The door opens and it’s Luke. He lets out a breath and says, “Oh Stella.” He comes over and hugs me. I finally break and start sobbing. He holds me tighter and rubs my back in an effort to calm me down.

I feel him take my phone and can hear him talking to my mom. He says, “Hey Mrs. Zegras.”

“Hi Luke. You can call me Julie.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“I got her. And I promise to keep you posted.”

“Thank you. Should I make plans to come out?”

“Probably. She probably already told you no but I think she’ll want you to come out. I already texted my mom just in case. I promise, I got her.”

“Thank you Luke. Stella, I love you honey. Keep me posted please?”

“I love you too momma.” I say and my mom hangs up. I cling to Luke and he holds me tight while I cry. He rubs my back and says softly, “Hey just breathe for me Stella. Just breathe baby. You’re ok.”

I try to take some deep breaths and calm down but it hurts so much. I croak out, “It hurts babe.” He says reassuringly, “I know baby, I know. It’s gonna be ok.” I just hold him tighter and try to breathe through the pain. Eventually, the trainer comes back in and to see me. He says, “I can come back if you want.”

“No, let’s just get this over with.”

He nods, “I called the surgeon. He can get you in tonight for an MRI at 8. He can see you again on monday to talk about the results and everything with you. I would recommend calling your parents and seeing if they can come out.”

“Ok.” I nod. I then ask quietly, “Anything else?”

“Non weight bearing until told otherwise. Ice every 2 hours, 20 minutes on and then 20 minutes off. obviously we want you to come the rest of the weekend but just take it easy for the next few days. Stay of the best you can, elevate your knee. Do you want me to go with you to the MRI?”

“I’m good. I’d rather just go by myself. Get it over with. Is the game over?”

“Yea. Lost 6-2. Sorry kid.” He says regretfully. I mutter quietly, “It’s fine. Can I go home now?”

“Yea. I’ll check in tomorrow before the game. Just take it easy and make sure to get to that MRI.” He says. I nod and wait for him to go. Luke says, “Let’s get you back to the dorms sweet girl.” I nod again and he helps me get off the table. Once I find my balance, I look up at Luke and say, “Hey lukey?”

“Yea?”

“Can I get a kiss please?”

He smiles and then leans down to kiss me softly. When he pulls away he says, “You never have to ask stel.” He kisses me again, “I love you Stella.”

“I love you too.”

“Come on baby. Let’s get you out of here and get you some rest.” He says. I nod and follow him out of the room. I head down towards the locker room and say, “You can’t come in. Team rule, and I don’t know if anyone is still in there. I’ll be quick, I just need my bag.” He nods and I head in.

Luckily, no one was int here so I could get in and out without having to answer a bunch of questions. I leave the locker room and say, “Let’s go please?”

“Of course Stella.”

He helps me back to my dorm and lifts me into my bed. He sets me up with the pillows and the ice from the trainer. He says, “I’m gonna head back to my dorm to grab a few things. Do you need anything?”

“Just you.”

“10 minutes sweet girl.” He says. He leaves and comes back in no time. I smile when he comes back in and then climbs into bed to cuddle with me. He pulls me close to him and says, “Get some rest sweet girl. I’ll wake you when you need to get up for your MRI. Just get some rest baby.”

He rubs my back and right before I drift off to sleep I hear him whisper, “God I love you Stella. Forever my best girl.”

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and To Heal (Part 1)

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

"Søta, you have to go to school."

"Nei! I don't want to papa- I wanna go with you!" 

Martin draws up his dad voice, pointing a finger at her. "Atla Marie Ødegaard, you're going to class and that's final."

Being a single dad is the most challenging role Martin Ødegaard has to play. Captaining Arsenal has its ups and downs, don't get him wrong- but nothing is more complicated than a five year old hell bent on eating a bowl of skittles for breakfast. And bath time? Forget it; he'd rather get red carded and ejected from a match in the first five minutes than have to wrangle her into the tub to wash off the day's dirt. 

Atla crosses her tiny arms over her chest, blonde curls bouncing as she shakes her head. "I'm going with you papa. I'm not going to school." 

Martin sighs, tipping his head back with his eyes closed. They have this argument, or one similar, nearly every morning. Today it’s bargaining to tag along to training and tomorrow it will probably be Atla bargaining for ten more minutes of sleep. Is it too much to ask for one easy day? If his daughter isn't begging to come with him to training, she's refusing to brush her teeth or wear what he's picked out for her. Every day there's some sort of battle… but that's parenthood.

“You have to go.” 

“I don’t want to! Please let me come with you papa.” The slightly pouted lip that accompanies her request nearly has Martin folding. He would jump through flaming hoops above a pit of hungry crocodiles to make his daughter happy, but he simply can’t always give her what she wants, when she wants it.

Knowing he has exactly one card he can play to prevent her impending tearful meltdown, Martin sighs. 

"You've already missed too many days this month, Attie. I'll get in trouble if you don't go, and I won't be able to play if I'm in trouble. You wanna watch papa play this weekend, don't you?"

Atla tugs on her pigtail, frowning at her half finished plate of pancakes. She's a spitting image of her mother- right down to her nose and her fine, light lashes that brush her cheeks. The only bit of him that she's inherited is her fair hair and bright eyes- everything else is wholly her mum. Martin doesn’t mind that- he misses her, and mornings like this only make the ache in his chest worse. 

"Okay papa," Atla murmurs finally, much to Martin’s relief. "But when I get home can we play keepy ups?"

"Of course we can, søta. Papa will always play keepy ups with you. Now go get your bag, make sure you have your book to return to the library."

"Okay pa!" Atla hops off her chair, grinning as she comes around the island to wrap herself around Martin’s leg in a hug. “I love you pa! You’re my favorite pa ever.” 

Martin’s heart turns to mush, “I love you too, lille venn. Hurry up before you make us late again.” 

Raising her on his own is tough, but he wouldn't trade moments like this for all the wealth in the world. Martin loves her smile more than anything.

Martin’s focus shifts to packing his own lunch while Atla bounces up the steps to the second floor to grab her things. His lunch is far less glamorous than his daughters, lacking the sandwich cut in the shape of a star (the only way she’ll eat one these days) and the cherry tomatoes cut perfectly in half. Instead, he shoves a protein bar from the back of the cupboard into his bag, along with two pieces of toast leftover from breakfast. It’ll do, he supposes. 

"Pa- did you pack me a kake?" Martin smiles and hands her a bright pink lunch box of her own before he bends at the waist to pick her up.

"Yes Attie I did, I wouldn't forget the best part would I?" Martin shifts to prop her on his hip, smattering her cheeks with kisses until she giggles and shoves her little fists at his chest. 

"Pa, stop! Stop-" Atla cuts herself off with a squeal, tucking her head to Martin's shoulder. He laughs, smoothing a hand over her hair. His daughter is beautiful, just like her mum. If he concentrates hard enough, he can move past the hurt and remember how similar her laugh was to Atla’s, or how she always sang her to sleep at night. 

Martin wasn’t ever supposed to do this alone. He had a partner at his side, someone he loved with his whole heart and wanted to spend every waking moment with. He dreamed of a family with his wife at his side, with a bundle of children and animals to occupy their time with. 

But no one can escape fate. No one can live forever, and no one can have everything they dream of. These are fundamental truths, though Martin struggles to accept them. 

Martin's smile grows wistful, his demeanor softened by nostalgia. Atla frowns, in tune with his sudden mood swing. "What's wrong pa?" She reaches up to touch his lips like she's trying to make his smile reappear. "Why aren't you happy?"

"You look like your mum today," he says simply, pushing past the lump in his throat. Atla grins, wrapping her arms around Martin's neck for a hug. This is part of their morning routine too, as integral and unmissable as breakfast. 

"You say that every morning papa."

"I know I do, Attie. I don't want you to forget her." The last part is mumbled, more for himself than the toddler in his arms. She'll bounce back- she only knew her mum for three years, not ten like Martin had. It is proving much harder for him to get over their loss than for Atla. For quick flashes, sometimes he resents Atla’s mom for leaving him so soon. Then he realizes almost immediately how foolish he is for even thinking such a thing. 

"I won't forget mama, I promise. No more sad." Atla possesses far too much emotional empathy for such a young girl, though Martin is extremely grateful for it. He isn’t sure he would get through mornings like this without her. 

Martin pulls a false smile onto his face, one that becomes genuine when Atla smiles at him, too. She won't remember her mum in a few years and that's okay. It's Martin's job to teach her about her mum down the road, and that's a job he takes seriously. 

"Good. Now let's get you to school before they call me asking where you are again."

**********

Truthfully, you love your job. You don't mind that you're the designated early arrival teacher; you're an early riser anyway and this allows you to connect with and mentor students beyond your own classroom. You also don’t mind the extra money on your paycheck thanks to the few extra hours you work before and after classes each day. 

Becoming a teacher was in the cards for you since the moment you set foot in a school as a toddler. Out of all your friends, you were always the one offering to tutor them or set up study groups for exams. The idea of molding young minds and you strive to reach as many as possible. You teach a class of fifteen seven year olds, each of whom you love with your whole heart. It's nice to touch the lives of more students of every age, regardless of how small the impact may be.

Today you have a dozen kids in the gymnasium, aged from four to ten. They mostly pair off in their usual groups, as they do most mornings. This early, your job is easy. Most of the children are still half asleep or actually asleep on one of the cots in the corner, like six year old Rose. She loves her morning naps and you envy her on the ones after a late night of lesson planning. 

Other kids play with toys or kick about a football, laughing quietly while being conscious of their sleepy peers. Satisfied that no one is intent on causing trouble this morning, you return to your planner until your calm is interrupted by a shriek of your name. A grin instantly splits your face and you brace yourself for the small body that slams into your legs moments later. 

You bend down to return her hug, "Good morning Atla! Thank you for the hug, you're the best hugger I've ever met."

Martin Ødegaard comes strolling in a few paces after his daughter. Upon seeing her wrapped around your legs he smiles, tapping her shoulder and convincing her to let go with a single look. "Good morning Miss Sunshine," he drawls, his accent notably thicker than normal as he addresses you by the nickname your students have given you. "She's got loads of energy this morning, so good luck."

"I'm sure I can handle her, don't worry too much. I've got coloring books-"

"Coloring books!" Atla shrieks, earning raised brows from the pair of you as she runs off to find them. Children can be simple creatures, requiring little to keep them entertained. Atla, you’ve learned, is one of those children, preferring creative, collaborative activities that involve as many of her peers as possible. You and Martin share a knowing smile when she offers a second box of crayons to a boy sitting near her, pointing to her own page before sliding it between them to share. 

"She does love being crafty," Martin laughs, hands in his pockets. "Anyway, I hope your day is less chaotic than mine is shaping up to be. I'll be back at four to pick her up, I'm assuming you'll be here?" 

"As always.” You tip your head to see around Martin’s broad frame, scanning the room to ensure the growing quiet isn’t anything you need to be concerned about. Once you determine you’re in the clear, your gaze returns to where Martin had been standing a minute before, only to notice him heading for the door. 

“Oh, Mr. Ødegaard- one moment please."  

Martin pauses at the threshold, eyebrows raised. "Yes?"

You smile at Martin, shaking your head. "Mr. Ødegaard-"

"Please, you can call me Martin, I've told you a thousand times." Normally, you have a strict rule about calling parents by their first names when children are within earshot. Parents generally don’t mind, understanding why you do it, but Martin insists on being on a first name basis… Which you can’t exactly say you are opposed to. 

"Martin." Your face heats when he grins, nodding in approval. "There's a permission slip that needs signing if you have a moment."

Martin smacks his forehead, "that's right! I completely forgot- you're touring the stadium this week, right?"

"Yes, we are thanks to you!" You beam at him, "my kids are all excited. None of them have stopped chattering about it since they learned about football in PE- and they're excited for a maths lesson while they're there, which is a feat in itself."

You have no idea how he managed to secure a backstage tour of the Emirates stadium for nearly a hundred students, but you aren’t about to complain. Field trips are rarely this exciting, so this is an opportunity you won’t miss. 

"Attie said everyone's looking forward to it, I'm just glad I could help make it happen for you lot." Martin runs a hand through his hair, looking like he wants to say more on the subject, though he shakes his head. "Right I need to get to work, if I could sign that?"

"Oh- of course!" You hand over the paper you're holding, watching as Martin grabs a purple pen off your desk and signs on the line. He hands it back with a charming smile, hiking his thumb over his shoulder. 

"Duty calls."

You mimic the gesture, "ditto. Have a good day Martin."

Martin's smile grows impossibly wider as he waves to Atla, who returns the gesture and screams her own goodbye. The energetic blonde is one of your more behaved pupils, despite only having Martin to raise her. 

Perhaps it's because of her absent mum that you've grown so attached to her so quickly; whatever the case, she's easily one of your favorites. That isn't to say you don't love each student in your class. You treat each like you would your own child, though some you naturally bond with more than others. Such is human nature, and as long as you don't blatantly show said favoritism, it isn't an issue. 

"Miss Sunshine? Is it snack time yet?"

You crouch down to be level with the student tugging at your pant leg and ruffle his short brown locks. "I don't know, is it? What time do you have snacks Billy?"

"Umm…" the young man taps his chin thoughtfully, foot moving in sync. "Oh! Ten thirty."

"And right now it's what time?" You nod to the clock on the wall, waiting for him to try. Telling time is one lesson you're aware he's currently working on in class, and you'll use every available opportunity to tutor students. Teaching moments can be found anywhere if one knows where to look and how to interpret situations creatively so kids don't get bored. 

"Uhh… it's seven… six?" 

You nod along with him, remaining encouraging, "You're half right, it's seven something. Try again- remember the big numbers aren't the minutes, they're the hours. You have to count by fives, remember?"

Billy nods, face scrunched in concentration. "It's… seven thirty!" 

"There you go! Great job- that's exactly right! So that means it isn’t quite snack time just yet. Why don’t you go color with Attie and see if that makes you less hungry?" 

“Oh- okay! Thank you Miss Sunshine!” You gratefully accept the hug he offers you, then shoo him off to play while the rest of the kids arrive. 

Eventually the clock marks eight thirty (which Billy happily informs you of mere seconds before the bell), and you usher the students to their respective classrooms before making your way to your own room.

You've done your best to create a comfortable, fun environment that fosters learning in all types of kids. There's beanbags they can choose to use instead of traditional chairs. Rows of books in all sizes and subjects line a shelf in the cozy corner, piled high with blankets for students to curl up in. Growing up you hated the harsh white lighting in most schools, which is why you have a few floor lamps scattered through the room to provide a level of warmth. Your prize bin is overflowing with bouncy balls and other little trinkets for kids to earn through academic means or through acts of kindness. 

You sigh, taking a seat at your desk and mentally preparing for the day ahead. It's been a long week and you're definitely glad it's Friday; going out with the girls tonight will be a blessing. 

**********

"Friday night is date night lads, you know that! I can't skip it again or my girl will have my head."

"Martin, you've said no to us for the last month! Just a few hours mate, come on!" It’s true, Martin hasn’t gone out with the team in ages. Being the captain means he knows that he should or he risks unrest within his team, but he’s been consistently putting family first which most of the lads respect. 

Martin shakes his head at Kieran, "Atla loves film nights right now. She won't be little forever Kieran, I need to spend as much time with her as I can before she gets to that stage where she wants nothing to do with me. Besides, I'm not even sure my sitter-"

Martin frowns when his phone chimes inside his locker. He pulls it out to see a message from his usual babysitter, Beth, stating that she is indeed available tonight. Kieran must have stolen Martin’s phone while he was in the shower and fired off a message to her in an attempt to convince him which is, regrettably, working in Kieran’s favor. 

If Martin is being honest, he could use a break. He's felt worn out lately and the idea of letting loose for a few hours seems like the perfect remedy to months worth of pent up stress. Doesn't mean he has to tell Kieran that though. 

"Cheeky bastard," Martin mumbles, glaring as Kieran beams. 

"Now you have no excuse. Two pints! You cannae say no!"

"You buying my pints?" 

Kieran waves a hand, "Yeah sure mate, if that's what it takes to get you out with us!"

"Fine, two pints! But that's all you get, then I'm going home to Atla." Kieran's fist pumps the empty air, clearly excited to have convinced Martin. He jogs off to tell the other boys the good news, and Martin texts Beth to confirm what time she'll need to be over. He still intends to pick Atla up from school, so Beth shouldn't need to be over for more than a few hours later that night. 

Martin checks his watch. If he leaves now instead of waiting to be the last out like he usually is, he could pick Atla up a touch early and maybe still squeeze in a movie. 

After a quick word with Kieran, Martin grabs his things and jogs to his car. Atla's school isn't more than fifteen minutes from the training grounds, which is partly the reason why he enrolled her there in the first place. Of course, the excellent ratings and reviews he read pages of didn't hurt either. 

If there is one thing Martin is certain of, it is that he will do whatever it takes to provide his daughter with the best possible life she can have. Whether that be driving her to a private school across town or dipping out early from training to bring her lunch, he'll always make sure she knows she's loved and has the world at her feet. 

Feigning a doctor's appointment that he apologetically forgot he'd made, Martin convinces the front office staff that he needs to take Atla home early. He waits in the lobby, scrolling on his phone until he hears her melodic voice.

"Hi papa! Why are we going home so early?”

Martin tucks his phone away and crouches to sweep her into a hug. No matter what sort of day he's had, an Attie hug can make all his troubles dissolve in seconds. "Because you have an appointment, little one."

"Oh." Martin has to bite his lip to keep the smile off his face when her disappointment shows. Her brows draw together in the most adorable pout he’s ever seen, until her eyes begin to sparkle when he winks at her. Martin thanks the teacher that walked Atla out, picks his daughter up and shifts her onto his hip so he can sign the paper pushed at him. Once they're safely out of earshot, Atla murmurs, "why are we really going early pa?"

"Papa's gonna treat you to an early film night, how's that sound?" 

"Yay!" Martin shushes her when she shouts, her little body unable to contain her adult-sized excitement. "Sorry pa… can I have chocolates?"

"You always get chocolates on film nights don't you? Of course you can." Martin sets her in her car seat, helping her pull her arms through the straps. 

"I can do it." She lightly slaps Martin's hands away from the buckles and he watches as she studiously straps herself into her car seat. Attie is one of the most independent toddlers Martin has ever met; if there is a task she thinks she can do on her own, she won't stop until she is given the opportunity to try.

She beams triumphantly when she slots the three buckles in correctly, patting Martin's chest with unmatched tenderness. "I told you pa, I can do it!"

Martin shakes his head, leaning forward to kiss her nose. "When did you get so big, hmm? I swear, just yesterday your feet couldn't even touch the seat in front of you, now look." He points to where her pink sneakers have scuffed the back of the passenger seat, leaving little black marks he doesn't have the heart to erase. They're a semi permanent reminder of Atla being this little.

"I'm big and strong like you! And I'm gonna be bigger than you one day!" Atla puffs out her chest in the most adorable way, reminding him instantly of some of the lads. 

"You've been around your uncle Kieran way too much if you've learned that from him. Now tell me what you learned today søta, like you always do."

Martin listens and sneaks glances in his rearview as Atla explains her playground exploits and her foamy-volcano science experiment in colorful detail. Her pigtails bounce when she shakes her head and waves her hands to try and replicate the way the volcanoes erupted when they combined the ingredients as instructed, and Martin's heart aches. 

His daughter won't be so young and innocent forever.

[notstilinski]

Funny Story Starters !

Taken from the 2024 novel by Emily Henry, Funny Story! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! Some light spoilers for the novel may be present! 

“I fell in love with (Name) the moment I looked up from their hat.”

“Did I kill a bicyclist?”

“Could you turn it down? All the plates are rattling in their cabinets and (neighbor)’s trying to bust down the living room wall.”

“I stick my head out of the window when I smoke.”

“I let (Name) pay for literally everything. He makes a shit-ton more than me.”

“Of course that fucking meant for this to happen, (Name)! They had the last twenty-five years to tell you that they were in love with you and chose last night!”

“You brought me here! I left my friends. My apartment. My job. My entire life."

“Sometimes I wish I held on to a little bit more.”

“You look dead.”

“It’s ridiculous. It’s unbelievably fucked.”

“No. I get it. You didn’t want to be alone with it.”

“You thought I took you to a fetish bar?”

“Of course I don’t hate you. You’re unhateable. Maybe that makes me distrust you a little bit.”

“That is so depressingly cynical.”

“A shared cuckholding is the most fertile ground from which love could ever spring.”

“Are we evil or just immature?”

“(Name) and I have been taking bets on whether you’re in the FBI.”

“How many Crocs does this man have?”

“What if—and stay with me here—you just, like, tell me something about yourself?”

“Well, of having my heart shattered in the single most humiliating way imaginable can be of service to anyone, I’ll take it.”

“Such an air of disappointment. Every time you say my name.”

“They told you to trust them, and that’s what you did. That’s what you’re supposed to be able to do with people you love. They just don’t always live up to it.”

“I like most people. Is that so bad?”

“I’m not doing acid with you, (Name).”

“They all thought I was hot. Women of a certain age love me.”

“You are either the friendliest person on the planet or a world class serial killer.”

“Anything you need a helmet to do, you probably simply shouldn’t do.”

“If you’re trying to emulate (Name), I wish you the best of luck. No one can repress negative emotions like them. They’ve had too much practice.”

“I’d assumed the sunny disposition came naturally.”

“At five in the morning? I’d rather eat aluminum foil.”

“I’ve loved boyfriends less than I love this place!”

“It’d just be nice to earn my own glow sticks every once in awhile.”

“I think (Name) could be alone in a room with a paper bag and there’d still be a vibe.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m wise.”

“I want to undress you. And taste you. I want to hear you come again, and feel it too.”

“Sorry I wasn’t perfect, but you’ll understand when you’re a parent someday. You can’t do every right, and your kids will hate you for it.” 

“So they left you guys to deal with all that on your own, and you think you’re the bad guy for finding a way to survive?”

“Sometimes you make it sound like I’m a snake-oil salesman.”

“I was a little nerd, you can say it.”

“It feels like rebirth!”

“(Name) would you please do me the honor of sleeping in my bed?”

“I’m sorry. I should have waited to tell you.”

“I already told you. I didn’t do it to be nice.”

“A part of me is just waiting for the moment you see whatever it is that drives people away. And I don’t want that. I don’t want you to stop wanting me around. I think it might break my heart to be someone you don’t like.”

“I don’t want to treat you like that. I just… It’s hard to take any of this seriously. It’s hard to trust what you say now, after all the lying.”

“I told you as soon as anything happened with (Name). I know I acted like scum, but I never lied.”

“We can get our life back. It’s not too late.”

“No? How is that a response to what I just said? I just told you I love you, (Name).”

“I’m a cynic. And a cynic is a romantic who’s too scared to hope.”

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I’m exactly the kind of person they can’t handle being with, and they’re the kind who could destroy me.”

“What in Satan’s ballsack?”

“This must be what it’s like to be a proud mother.”

“I don’t want you to go but I want you to be happy.”

“I’ll fucking end you if you don’t leave!”

“They can’t see themselves clearly. They made them feel like all they ever do is let people down.”

“Here I am, keeping all my problems secret so they won’t rush in and fix them, and they tell me they’re scared they’re childhood broke them.”

“Suddenly it seemed selfish of me. to love you.”

“Not the CrossFit part, I’m incredibly lazy.”

“I honestly can’t totally figure out why someone as good as you would love me, when I can be kind of a pessimistic asshole.”

“But I do feel like the luckiest person in the world, to be who you want. Because I want you too. I love you too.”

“I can’t have your mom falling in love with me.”

“Flags so red, they veer toward maroon.”

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

So uh, it's @taznovembercelebration time yet again! I wanted to at least get one out so when i pulled Celebrity AU, i had a pretty perfect opening (because the au that lives in mine and Hali's head is constantly rotating like a chicken in my mind)

---

“So that neighbor guy.” Lup states, nary a preamble in the same square mile. She’s perched on the counter, supervising while Taako scrambles a half-dozen eggs. It’s entirely too early or perhaps too late for food, guess it just depends on your perspective. But, far be it from either of them to ever ask for someone else’s perspective.

“He’s certainly a neighbor,” Taako says. He’s not willing to take whatever bait it is that Lup’s dangling. He pokes at the eggs with a spatula and sprinkles a hefty pinch of salt on top, mixing as he goes. 

“He was remarkably kind, given how obnoxious the party was. And his pajamas were awfully cute.” 

Taako fakes a gasp. “Lup, I thought you’re with a very dashing Apple store employee! How quickly your eyes wander.” He hasn’t thought about whatshisname (Kravitz Queen in apartment 22F) since the party he so rudely intruded on. And then fell asleep at. Right at Taako’s own kitchen table. 

She groans and rolls her eyes. “Taako, you’re being purposefully obtuse.” 

“I’ve been told I’m quite acutie.” 

“Awful, I want a new brother.” 

“Sorry, no returns,” he says gleefully. He shuts the burner off and grabs two plates from the cupboard, evenly distributing the eggs across them. “Like. I dunno, Lup, what do you want me to say? He’s cute, sure, but I thought I wasn’t supposed to be pursuing new relationships right now.” That’s what all the doctors at Hollybrook suggested, anyway. He’d rolled his eyes when he first heard that, but as the months have progressed, it’s been a nice break. 

“I’m not saying you need to get married or anything, I’m just saying he’s cute and nice and a musician. Simply stating facts,” she says around a bite of scrambled eggs. “I’m supposed to be on set today, the director apparently has a bold new vision and needs some more cash to make it happen. You wanna come?”

He mulls it over for a moment. “Anyone cool? Last one you produced had that shitbag Jerre whatshisnuts and he was so smarmy at the premiere and I think if I ever saw him again I’d deck him.” 

“No Mr. Whatshisnuts, scout’s honor,” Lup says, giving him a faux-serious two-fingered salute. 

Taako snorts and rolls his eyes. “We were never scouts, goofus. But, nah. I’m going to sit this one out. Probably do some journaling and go to bed.” 

“Okay, call me if you need me. I’ll be back this afternoon, probably. Maybe we can get dinner tonight?” 

He nods. “Sounds good, be safe. Love you.”

“Love you!”

—

“—And rather than scripting this out, we feel that this sequence is going to be shown best through a kind of dream ballet scene that’ll last for about seven minutes,” The director excitedly explains to Lup. She’s trying hard to focus, she really is, but her phone seems intent on boring a hole through her leg. She sneaks a quick glance to see that she’s missed a fourth call from Lucretia. That’s never good.

“Hey, Todd, love this idea you’ve got going on. My publicist is like, blowing up my phone so let’s regroup in half an hour, okay? Okay!” She says as she extricates herself from the conversation. 

“Luce, what’s up?” Lup asks, just managing to catch this fifth call. 

“I thought Taako was off Twitter for now,” Lucretia says, sounding exasperated. 

“Uh. Well he was while he was in Hollybrook but you said it’d be cool for him to reconnect with the fans now.” 

“Remind me not to have any more stupid ideas.”

“Is it bad?” Lup hasn’t been on the damn app since the last premiere. She usually lets Lucretia handle her social media except for her Letterboxd. 

“Not bad just…thirsty?” 

Lup does her best not to laugh. Well. She makes some attempt to not laugh. “Thirsty?”

Lucretia sighs. “It started off fine, just him tweeting about this musician, but a few fan accounts started stirring the pot and. Well. I guess he’s ‘down horrendously for that kravitz guy’ as @taacocat69420 so eloquently put it.” 

“God he’s a mess,” she says fondly. “I think it’ll be fine though. Kravitz is cool. Hope this gets him some extra streams or something.” 

—

Kravitz stirs at eleven. He’s a little surprised that his alarm never went off, though a quick glance at his lockscreen lends some light to why. His notifications are atrocious. Good atrocious, it just looks like the whole internet threw up in them maybe. When he finally traces the source of why, he starts to get dressed. Best not to make another pajama clad impression. 

[beelsnack]

Sweet Nothings - OM Beelzebub and a Diabetic MC

Listen this is one of the most self-indulgent pieces I've ever written and I'm not ashamed of it. There's no way I'm the only diabetic simp in this community lol

This was meant to be part of a bigger series but I got carried away and made it it's own piece. So, sneak peak for future works I guess.

For my non diabetics out there, the thing that the human has on their arm is a CGM - continuous glucose monitor. It's exactly what it sounds like, a little sensor you stick in your arm so you can keep a constant eye on your levels.

-----

“What’s that?”

The human glanced up at Beelzebub from across the table the two of them were sitting at. A new restaurant had just opened up in the heart of the Devildom, and the owner had invited Beel to come on the grand opening day as a PR move. Beel, in turn, had invited the human to come along with him as his date.

“What’s what?” they asked. Beel inclined his head towards where they were holding the back of their phone against their shoulder.

“The thing on your arm.”

“Oh,” the human pulled their phone away and glanced at it. “I’m just checking my blood sugar. This thing is so much better than having to prick my finger all the time.”

Beel looked even more confused. “I don’t understand. Humans have to check their blood?”

“Not all of us,” the human muttered, frowning at their phone. From the angle they had it, Beel couldn’t see exactly what it said, but the screen was a vibrant orange color. “I knew I felt gross. No dessert for me, I guess.”

“Why not?”

“Sugar’s high,” the human shrugged. Now that he thought about it, the human did look a little weak and pale. They reached into the little bag that they always carried with them and pulled out a pen. They uncapped it, spun the little dial on top, and Beel watched in shock as they lifted up their shirt and jabbed the needle into their abdomen.

“You have to give yourself a shot?”

“Five times a day,” they recapped the pen and slipped it back into their bag. “Kind of sucks, but it beats the alternative.”

“What’s the alternative?” Beel asked. He had completely given up on looking at the menu in favor of staring at the human in abject horror.

“Shakiness, going blind, organ failure,” they shrugged again. “Honestly, I try not to think about it too much.”

Beel’s eyes were as wide as the plates that their appetizers had been served on. “So you can’t eat sweets?”

“I can, just not a lot, and I have to be careful,” they shrugged. “Not tonight, though.”

Right then, the waiter returned to take their order, looking anxious. Word had probably spread about Beel’s notorious appetite, but he was also known as a generous tipper, so likely the server didn’t quite know how to feel about this one. About half-way through Beel’s order, the human saw the poor demon roll their wrist to alleviate some pressure.

“...That should be enough, right?” Beel muttered to himself before turning to the human. “Sorry, I ordered without asking if you were ready.”

The color seemed to drain from the server’s face and they hurried flipped over to a new page. The human resisted the urge to laugh.

“I’ll have…” they trailed their finger down the menu and stopped about a third or the way down. “That one, please.”

The server looked relieved and scribbled down the order before dashing off, likely afraid that Beel would tack more on to the order if they stayed around for too long.

“So, wait,” Beel started, looking thoughtful. “Why can’t you have sugar? Are you allergic?”

“...Honestly, not a bad way to put it, but not technically.” the human replied. “So human’s need to eat food to get energy to do things, right?”

Beel nodded.

“So insulin is the hormone that lets the energy from the food get from the blood into the cells. I have a disease called diabetes, which means my body doesn’t make that hormone. They can make it artificially, which is that shot that you just saw me give myself.”

“Where do they get it?” Beel asked, eyeing the server as they walked past them carrying someone else’s order. “Do other humans donate it like blood?”

“Y’know, that is a great question for Google when we get home.”

The server appeared beside them. “Would you like some more water?”

“Oh, yes, thank you,” the human smiled, scooting out of the way so the server could refill their glass. When they turned around to leave, however, Beel called out.

“Excuse me, sir?”

The server flinched before turning around and acknowledging Beel with a very tight smile. “Yes?”

Beel reached over to where he had tucked the dessert menu. “We won’t need this, sorry.”

The human raised their eyebrows. “Beel, you can have dessert.”

Beel shook his head as the server dutifully tucked the menu under their arm and darted back into the kitchen. “It wouldn’t be fair for me to have dessert if you can’t. We’ll just go out for ice cream when you feel better.”

[dottie-writes-tmnt]

Confessions (pt. 2)

This is part 9 of my fic A New Kind of Familiar. Tags and other chapters can be found here!

No summary actually

They talk about Leo and Karai in this chapter. (Nickelodeon was fucked up for that. Literally after it was revealed they were siblings they were still romantic with each other.) And they talk about Leo having hallucinations

Donnie groaned, letting his head fall forward to hit the table. The lab door opened and closed, Mikey coming over to grab his bandanna tails before he could start banging his head on the table.

“Breakfast, Dee,” the snapper said, holding the plate out of the way in case of the wood turtle lashing out. He offered no response, looking at the snapper.

“If I…if I can’t do this…what’s gonna happen to him? What’s gonna happen to us?”

“Oh, wow, mind reader. I was thinking about that last night. Dee, you know I’ve been thinking about destiny and all that ever since…well. You know.”

And he did. Renet had accidentally-on-purpose (not really, it was an accident on her part but it was something their timeline required) sent herself and Mikey somewhere and the time scepter wouldn’t work. While they were there, Mikey developed some abilities. Things came to him in dreams, he was even more emotionally aware than before, and he was probably strong enough to bench press Leatherhead.

“I’m saying this for a reason, pay attention. I had a dream last night. I saw Raph. It was blurry, but…he looked happy. Happier than he’s ever been with us. I think this is destiny sending him away for some character development, and just like the time scepter wouldn’t bring us back until everything had happened, your machine won’t work until that’s all complete, too. So don’t stress, Dee. I’ll even talk to Leo.”

“He’s been talking to the hallucinations again,” Donnie felt he should inform. His baby brother froze where he’d been getting up, half propped up on the table now. “Said Splinter thinks I should work harder. Which, yeah, he would say that, but he’s not here. And we watched Splinter’s ghost pass on for good. But the moment I said that he got all pissy and… you know as long as he’s talking to things that aren’t real, you can’t get through to him.”

Mikey settled back down, sighing.

“We need to get him out more.”

“Probably.”

The duo sat there, listening to Leo’s footsteps near the lab, and to Donnie’s surprise, Mikey got up and locked the door.

“Mikey, what are you doing? He’s just gonna be even more mad when he sees me!”

“You’re not doing good and you’re just gonna get worse if Leo can talk to you,” the snapper explained, sitting criss-cross applesauce on the table next to Donnie. “And I don’t… Dee, I don’t want all of us to drown just because he is.”

Donnie had never been good at comfort. He had never been good at much besides technology, honestly. Not good at people or being social or anything of the likes. He didn’t know why. But he figured trying wouldn’t hurt. He set a hand on his little brother’s knee, sighing deeply.

“Then we’ll be each other’s lifeboats.”

 

——

 

Leo was more than a little worried about his twin, who had gotten a board out and was writing notes all over it, drawing lines between things like those crazy people in movies.

“So we all agree that he should want to go back if he had a pleasant experience living there, right? Logically, he should miss his brothers.”

“Yeah, but he seemed so…upset when he thought I was gonna send him back.”

“Maybe he’s just attached to us too?”

“No, he talked like they were the worst people alive.”

“I noticed the same thing when he was helping me cook on the first chapter— I mean, night he was here!”

“I’m kinda worried.”

“And we all know what he said about Splinter, but he was probably thinking of his own.”

“That doesn’t make it any better, Leo,” Raph pointed out.

“I know. But someone banned us from asking about his brothers at all.”

“I didn’t wanna make him upset considering he’d only been here for not even a day at the time,” the snapper defended. Mikey shut them both up with a glare.

“We should talk to him. Assuming won’t do anyone any good.”

“Great idea, hermano—“

“Me and Donnie. Sound good? Good. I’ll cook, just send him in about 30 minutes from now. And don’t worry, you two will get your turn. I just don’t wanna overwhelm him with all four of us. And he may be a tad embarrassed about that night, Leo. Raph, he looks up to you. He won’t wanna seem ‘weak’.”

That made sense. Leon sighed.

“Fine.”

 

—

 

Donnie sat at the table, messing around on his phone until Mikey finished cooking, setting the plates so that he and Mikey would be across from Ruby. Almost on cue, right as Mikey closed the fridge, the terrapin walked in.

“You guys wanted to talk? I was doin’ somethin’.”

“Yeah, we did, but I’m sorry we interrupted you,” Mikey said, gesturing for Ruby to sit.

“What were you working on, though?” Donnie asked. Ruby perked up a little.

“I was making some compression gloves for Casey. She says her hands hurt when she crochets and she wishes she had some, so.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mikey chirped, adjusting his glasses. His back was to Ruby. “I’m sure she’ll love them! Especially considering she’s been doing a lot of crocheting recently.”

“Yeah.”

Finally, Mikey turned around and sat next to Donnie. The trio continued to make small talk, Mikey waiting for Ruby to finish eating before sighing. He gave the smallest terrapin a smile.

“Ruby, do you mind telling us about your brothers?”

The relaxed but slightly nervous expression fell, replaced by all those barbed walls falling into place. Immediately. Though Donnie had expected as much.

“Yes, I mind very much. Why? What do you want to know? I already told you they’re perfect at everything they do. Did I say something? I don’t want to talk about them,” the box turtle snapped immediately, already moving to stand up.

“Why not? Did they do something?”

“I said I don’t! Why?! Is there something you’re looking for? They aren’t anything like you, if that’s what you’re thinking, and they’re exact opposites of me.”

“That isn’t what I’m asking for,” Mikey murmured, and Ruby’s head twitched to the side slightly, a behavior Donnie had picked up on from the terrapin when he was in upsetting situations. Donnie watched as the box turtle tapped his fingers against his thighs, an act of nervousness. Stimming.

“Father loved Leo,” he started, spitting the word like a curse, like a slur, through a snout full of poison and hurt. “Donnie makes things, and Mikey draws. Leo was a star student. Donnie’s smart. None of them have tempers like mine. What else do you wanna know? They’re perfect,” Ruby spat through vitriol-coated teeth.

“I wanna know how you feel about them. You’re giving me qualities out of a book. I wanna know about your brothers from you.”

Ruby’s head twitched yet again, the terrapin narrowing his eyes for a moment.

“I can guarantee you don’t.”

“I don’t know them. I don’t care about them. There isn’t an image to shatter.”

Ruby stared at Mikey, skeptical of that calm, caring smile. Finally, the red-wearing box turtle sighed.

“Fine. Get everybody in here, though, because I’m not repeating myself.”

“Well, I re—“

Mikey kicked him. He wasn’t sure why. He was just going to assure Ruby that he wouldn’t have to repeat himself, since he recorded everything. Whatever. He got up.

“I’ll go retrieve the others.”

 

—

 

Ruby wanted to bury himself. He could’ve walked away from this situation. Now the eyes were on him, and he wanted to shrink into a hole, but it was too late now.

“Mikey was still awesome. He was talented, like…he was good at art and stuff, and Splinter was always going on and on about how we needed to be like Mikey because he had more raw talent than all of us combined, especially me. Because Mikey was all happy n shit.

“He liked to piss me off on purpose to see how far he could push me, cuz it was funny apparently. But then he’d get pissy when I did get pissed off, but when I was nice, it was like the world was fucking ending. His insults were always somethin’ special. I think he just liked making me feel guilty, though.”

He glanced up, immediately deciding he didn’t like the looks on their faces.

“Donnie was still smart. Splinter wanted me to be like him because thinking rationally instead of emotionally was an asset I should have. He wasn’t that bad, I guess, he just used big words and said he liked making me feel stupid. And when we were kids, he tried some shit, but we were kids. I think he was the best to me out of them all—“

“What did he try?” Mikey asked, gently.

“Nothin’ big.”

“If it wasn’t anything big, you wouldn’t have said anything,” the box turtle murmured.

“He just let loose his ant farm in my room, it was a joke. He knew I was scared of bugs, and he thought it’d be funny. Everyone got a good laugh out of it and I moved rooms.”

“But…you weren’t laughing, were you?”

That confused him. Of course he wasn’t laughing, he’d been terrified, he’d cried, and then they all just laughed at him and he’d had to replace everything, and poor Spike’s shell had been filled with even more bugs, and April had had to take him to the vet because Ruby couldn’t. But it was just a joke that Ruby overreacted about. He said as much and Mikey simply shook his head.

“It wasn’t a good joke. Tell me about Leo,” the box turtle prompted, and Ruby felt the poison fill his mouth.

“He’s perfect,” he spat. “Splinter’s star student. Splinter’s favorite. The only one Splinter ever listened to, really. He’s everything I’m not. He never loses his cool, he always falls into line, and he annoys the crap out of me. He was the last to cooperate when I came out, though. Kept sayin’ I couldn’t change my gender ‘n stuff.

“Yaknow, like father like son or somethin’. When Splinter died, he appointed himself as the Sensei. And then shit really went downhill. I could never catch a fuckin’ break. Then we killed the Shredder. Then we killed him again. And then Leo decided to get with his sister. But Leo’s always like that. Says you shouldn’t do one thing then does something worse. He used to make me mad on purpose when we were younger. Now it’s just obvious he doesn’t like me.”

“Do you like them? ” Leo questioned, voice oddly gentle.

“Sometimes. When they’re not being dumbasses.”

“And, Ruby, you do know that what they did…isn’t right, don’t you?” Mikey questioned, slowly.

“I did worse,” he was quick to defend them even still. “I’m always snapping at them and being a dick.”

“Because they intentionally push your buttons.”

“Well— but—“

“They were wrong for what they did. Would you ever do any of that to any of us?”

“Of course not! Why the fuck would I—“

Oh.

He frowned, feeling oddly small. Mikey smiled softly, a sad thing, but not pitying.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

He gave a tiny nod. That was why he thought the things he thought. The tiny voice in his head always sounded suspiciously like Leo, back from when they were little and he’d constantly try to scare him by saying the others were talking about him or thinking things about him even if they weren’t.

He got angry because his brothers would always make fun of him when he cried. He was fucked up like this because of the way they shaped him.

He was shocked out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Red.

“They’re the ones that lost someone great. Yer fuckin’ awesome, and if they failed to see that, then they have no place in your life,” the snapper said firmly even as he pulled Ruby into a hug and rubbed his shell while he sniffled. The others moved to join, and they ended up having another movie night.

Ruby borrowed Donnie’s headphones and didn’t talk for the rest of the night— the words just wouldn’t come, which happened a lot more often than he would like and was always frustrating —but he dozed where he was comfortably wedged between Donnie’s oddly comfortable soft shell and Junior.

Mikey was like a living weighted blanket on his lap, humming along to the songs and applauding the twins’ duetted performance of Poor Unfortunate Souls. His head was filled with cotton, but that was fine, he supposed. Ruby didn’t really want to think after what happened earlier, anyway.

Previous chapter

[snowblossomreads]

Exhibit 6: Pinky Swears And Theatre Scares

Previous Chapter: Full Up

Summary: Amiee starts her new job and ends up on a movie 'date' with Sinclair.

“Lovely chat Arthur, I’ll send over the numbers to you later today when I get back alright?” There was a long pause as Sinclair half listened to the person on the other side finish talking. “Okay great! Buh bye!” 

A relieved groan escaped his lips the moment he hung the phone up, and was finally free from the meeting that had run over by a good 30 minutes. Ever since he had gotten in that morning, it had been nonstop meetings upon meetings. 

All of it was bullshit though he thought. Just people trying to cover for themselves to make it seem like they were busy. He already had enough on his plate without trying to look busy, as he glanced at the papers and folders sprawled on his desk.

Financial ones, memos from coworkers, and buried underneath those, were probably some things from his solicitor that he needed to take a look at. Yet, with all of that waiting for him, he couldn’t be bothered with i,t as it was not only lunchtime, one of his favorite times, it was also Friday. And unlike most of his Fridays this past year or so, he had plans for that evening. 

Well, maybe. 

He would first have to ask if she was free tonight, and hopefully, she would be. But first things first, lunch.

Picking up the phone again, he dialed a number and it rang twice before the click of it being answered sounded.

“Hello?” 

When the sound of her voice, which was unusually breathy met his ears, he couldn’t stop the grin that erupted on his lips. 

“Amiee! Are you free right now? I’m about to head to lunch and wanted to know if you cared to join? I was thinking Italian! There's a new restaurant that opened a few weeks back and it’s magnificent!”

There was a beat of silence after his question before laughter erupted on the other end of the line and he titled his head, confused at what was so amusing.

“H-hiya Sinclair, yeah sure I’ll tag along! My stomach did start grumbling a bit ago so perfect timing. Do you want me to meet you somewhere or…?”

“No that’s alright I’ll come and pick you up, be right there!”

“Okay see you in a sec, bye!”

“Buh bye!”

Hanging up the phone, he took one last glance at all the papers waiting for him to deal with, before promptly ignoring them in favor of grabbing lunch. He be more efficient once he had something in his stomach, other than the nerves that were currently bouncing about in it. 

A quick walk out of his office to the one that was only a few feet away from his, he knocked on the semi-closed door and didn’t wait for an answer before popping in.

“Here I am ready for-. What are you doing!”

Enthusiasm turned into confusion, and then concern, as his eyes landed on Amiee’s back, while she stood trepidatiously on the sofa that was pushed against the wall. In her hands, was a rather large picture frame that she was attempting, and failing to hang.

Turning her head just enough so that he knew she heard him, she spoke.

“Oh hiya! I was-.” She turned back around and blindly tried to hang the frame once more before she let out a frustrated sound when she missed the nail again. “Aiya! Fucking shite! Just putting this picture up before we went out. It’s been sitting around and I’ve finally gotten the energy to actually do it.” 

“Amiee! Call a janitor or someone to help do it for you!” Panic set in as he practically ran across the room with his hands already outstretched to take the painting from her, only to have her move away from him. “Here put it down you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“No Sinclair I got it I’m up here already!” She protested, as she tried once more to put the thing up only, letting out another whine when she missed the nail a third time. 

If she didn’t do it now, it was going to stay leaned up against her shelf for the next month, because she would either forget to ask for help or, just not want to deal with it. With another huff, she got on her tiptoes to try and reach the nail one more time even as  Sinclair protested behind her. 

Going to try and make sure she didn’t take a tumble off the sofa in case things went tits up, he froze when she reached up to hang the picture once more. Whether she realized it or not, her tiptoeing caused her skirt to ride up her legs, giving him a delicious view of the back of her thighs, which were soft and shapely. 

It had been six years, yet the sight of them had his fingers twitching, memories of being able to touch, and caress the delicate skin immediately began to to plague his mind. And if he wasn’t careful, something else would be plaguing him that was very much not appropriate for a work setting. 

Though his eyes lingered on her as he wondered if she was still as soft as he remembered. Biting his bottom lips and willing the sudden burst of arousal that was trying to spread like fire, he was snapped out of his trance when a sudden exclamation of triumph rang through the air.

“Aha!” 

Turning around, she gave him a pretty grin as she clapped her hands, pleased that she had gotten the picture up on the fourth try.

“There see, told you I didn’t need any help!” Her tone was one of triumph, as she pointed to the picture that was hung against the wall, before she plopped down on the sofa. 

Slipping on her kitten heels, she stood and went to continue about her victory against the picture frame that had been haunting her. That was, until she noticed the concerned expression etched on Sinclair’s face. His brows were furrowed in worry, and his cheeks were also awfully red which gave her some pause. He didn’t even let her get her witty comment out before he was letting out a waterfall of concerns. 

“Amiee you could have fallen and broken something! What would have happened if I didn’t come and you had lost your balance!” 

“Sinclair I-.”

“You could have ended up in hospital or worse!” He fretted, cutting her off once more as he wrung his together hands anxiously. “You have to be more careful please I don’t-!” 

There was a pause as his amber eyes searched her brown ones, his own filled with agitation as he fidgeted even more from the confused look that Amiee was sending him. This wasn’t him, he didn’t act like this, he was in control of himself always, even if his own energy got ahead of him at times. But lately, he felt as if he wasn’t, especially when it came to his emotions.

Whether it be because of his divorce, or the fact that the person who he hoped would have been his wife was suddenly back in his life. He wasn’t sure, but all of it just felt so big and he didn’t know how to handle it. His mind began to wander for a moment about whether to reach out to a therapist or just purchase a self help book, but he was coaxed out of it when he felt a tender squeeze on his forearms.

“Clair, what’s wrong? You don’t what?” The sound of her voice questioning him brought him back down and there was a look of wonder in her eyes as she waited for him. 

His mind was a scrambled mess with all the feelings that were swirling around, but she patiently waited for him. Even as the silence bordered uncomfortable, she waited, not rushing him for an answer that he normally would already have. Her warm eyes felt like safety as she gazed at him, and the feeling of her hand on his arm seemed to calm him enough so that he could say something to break the quietness of the moment. 

“We’ve just…” He trailed off again, looking for the right words for the moment as he bit his lower lip. 

God he had read so many books, and he knew four languages fluently yet he couldn’t find the right words. What a mess he was.

“I just…I don’t want anything to happen to you. You’ve already had to spend a lot of time in hospital. Not for you of course I know that,” he added quickly to clarify what he meant. “And plus.” Lowering his eyes to the ground, a bashful look came across Sinclair’s features.

It was a bit unusual coming from Sinclair. Someone so confident that he lit up the whole room when he walked in. But now, he stood with his hands behind his back and his eyes not meeting her own, just like a little puppy who was scared and had its tail between its legs.

“I think six years of not seeing each other is more than enough; I don’t want us to have to keep adding on to that.”

His words sat in the air for a moment as he was hesitant to look up. A feeling of vulnerability that he hadn’t felt since finding out that Natalie had been cheating on him washed over him. But this was a different type of vulnerability, not a constricting one filled with confusion and hurt and anger, but a strange comforting type. 

The type you can only be with someone you know wouldn’t judge you for the flaws you possessed, but love you in spite of them. With Natalie, he couldn’t remember if he felt that positive type of vulnerability, yet it seemed Amiee could pull it right out of him without even trying. 

“Six years is a long time,” she agreed quietly, drawing Sinclair out of his thoughts only to find her gazing wistfully out the window. 

Sensing he was looking at her, she gave her his attention, a small endearing smile on her face. It made her look so soft. 

“I’m sorry Clair, but you know it’s just how I am. Always doing something silly so I don’t have to be a bother,” she explained, yet there was a moment where her smile dropped as if she remembered something unpleasant before it returned. “What do they say, something about doing it yourself if you want it right?”

“If you want something right do it yourself!” He corrected brightly causing her to grin knowing it would have that effect on him. “ They say that and it’s one of my favorite things about you! You’re always doing things on your own, never asking for help and being brilliant at it. But you can always ask for my help you know that, right? You’ve never been a bother!”

The way he said it almost made her heart break along with the grin he showed her. Full of warm sincerity and earnestness that she could never not believe him. Matter of fact, she had always believed that he would do anything he could for her. She just wished she thought she was deserving of it.

‘Oh enough of that Amiee!’  

“Okay. I promise from now on, that if I do anything that may cause injury or death, I’ll phone you before doing it,” she said jokingly causing him to grin ear to ear. “Here look I’ll even pinky swear with you.” 

Holding out her pinky, because she was very much serious about it, Sinclair couldn’t stop the loud guffawing laughter that left his lips at the sight. This was so very silly, yet it didn’t stop him from coming closer to her offering up his pinky and his own promise.

“Yes yes! And I promise I’ll come running to you no matter what! To either stop you or help you!”

Their digits entwined, his larger finger wrapped around her smaller one causing her to giggle as they gave each other bright grins before they ‘shook’ on their promise.  

“Excellent! Now that I’ve taken off a few years of your life, do you still fancy letting me tag along to lunch? Or do you need to recuperate?”

“Never! I mean I could never tire of you,” he corrected, as they dropped their hands from one another, even though there was a yearning to hold it again. “But yes lunch let’s go. I think I’ve worked up even more of an appetite than normal after that scare.”

“Well, that just means double the appetizers!” Amiee pointed out.

“And maybe entrees!"

“Oh my god Sinclair can we please come back to this place,” Amiee groaned as she slid halfway down her seat. 

Food coma was already starting to sit in as the waiter cleared the table of their entrees, and she didn’t know how she was going to put down the dessert they had ordered. It would get done one way or another, and if she got a stomach ache afterwards well so be it. She wasn’t going to let any of it go to waste.

“It’s delicious isn’t it!” Sinclair praised with far more energy than she had, which was unsurprising. However, she suspected he would be napping after lunch because he would always close his door afterwards. Could it be him taking meetings, yes, but she had an inkling it was a meeting with his sofa.

“I’ve been here five times already since they opened and I think it’s my favorite in the area. Oh, you have to try the linguine frutti di mare when we come back. The seafood is so fresh you’ll love it, it’s divine!’ 

“Don’t tell me that Sinclair or  I’ll end up coming for dinner tonight! Plus I have food at home waiting for me and I don’t want it going bad.”

Unknowingly she had set up a perfect moment for him to ask the question that had been burning in his mind since the start of the day. This was his moment!

“So! You can just eat that for a late night snack if you get peckish during the night. I try not to do that because it gives me heartburn, but I can’t go to bed with an empty stomach it’s impossible!” He happily chattered before remembering what he was going to say.

“Plus I was going to ask if you wanted to come to the cinema with me tonight?” He proposed happily,  “A business partner of ours gave me tickets for an early showing of this new film, I think it’s called Candyman? It’s coming out in the autumn and I thought ‘oh, Amiee would like this!’”

Whether it was the offer of going to watch a film with him, or the genre of the film itself, Amiee’s eyes widened slightly, a bit taken aback by the invitation. Being asked to watch a film with him was not something she thought would be asked today but, she wasn’t going to say no! Especially, if she got to spend more time with him outside of work. 

“Sinclair, you know that’s a horror film right? And last time I checked you hated those,” she pointed out as she took a sip of her water before continuing, “all of the trailers I’ve seen have been pretty suspenseful and a bit well erm horror-esque, which I love don’t get me wrong! But uhm are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure! Plus I don’t hate them! I just think they should be a little more logical. Like, tell me why do people always split up in those movies? It’s always their downfall!”

Sitting back up as she tried to recover from all the food in her, Amiee laughed at his example. He was right; she never understood the whole ‘let’s split up’ thing in the movies. Did no one ever learn the phrase there’s strength in numbers? Apparently not.

“Or you know when there’s a trail of blood and they follow it?” She added, as she rested her elbows on the table and placed her chin on top of the back of her hands as she smiled up at him. “Especially when they’re defenseless! Like what is your plan if the murderer is still there?” 

That seemed to rile him up some more, and she couldn’t hide the amusement she was getting from it. He so hated when things weren’t logical and horror movies to him were far from logical.

“Exactly! I just don’t get it! That’s why I don’t like them, they don’t make sense at all.” 

His tirade finished just as the waiter returned with their desserts. A piece of tiramisu for her, and for him, a slice of cheesecake topped with strawberries along with a bowl of fluffy chocolate mousse.

As soon as they thanked the waiter, Sinclair was digging into his dessert, all but groaning at how creamy the cheesecake filling was. Being so engrossed with his food, he wasn’t expecting to see Amiee staring at him when he went to ask how her dessert was.

Though he did note the twinkle in her eyes, and the way her lips quirked and formed a tiny mischief smirk. It was a familiar expression he had seen before, and he wondered what she was up to.

“Mmp-what?” He asked before another piece of cheesecake was in his mouth. “Thisisdelicious.” 

“So let me get this right, you don’t like horror because most of them are illogical yes?” She questioned, picking up her spoon and digging into her dessert.  

A tiny groan left her lips, as the taste of coffee, and mascarpone combined with cocoa powder, and lady fingers, created a nice and creamy dessert that wasn’t too sweet and had different flavor notes.

“This is good, not too sweet, can really taste the coffee and cream!” She praised enjoying that her teeth didn’t hurt the moment she bit into it like it would some desserts. 

“Isn’t it! I would say it’s my favorite but I like all of them,” he admitted freely as he scooped some mousse up and ate it. A happy groan left his lips at the taste as he remembered he had been asked a question. “But yes you could say that.”

“Mhmm, so what you’re saying is all those times you ended up halfway on my lap when we watched them was not because of the jump scares, but because they bored you out of your mind because of how illogical they are?”

Clearly, there was a teasing lilt in her voice,  which matched her playful demeanor. Yet, it still caused Sinclair to pause in his eating, as the cutest pout appeared on his thin lips, and all she could think about was kissing them. His brows were furrowed as he narrowed his eyes and he let out a low whine of her name.

“I can’t believe you’re bringing that up here,” he whined, much like a dejected puppy while his gaze turned down and poked at his food. 

“Aw I’m sorry love, only trying to take the piss out of you, ” she tittered. 

Leaning over the table, she reached over to stroke the hand that was resting on the table with her thumb in hopes of giving him a bit of comfort. There was a slight zing again as her fingers touched his hand, yet it was much less intense than how she felt when he hugged her in his office when they met again. Finally, she was getting used to being able to touch him again and it was more than she could have ever hoped for honestly.

“You know I never minded. Just like how you never minded having to lug me into bed whenever you found me asleep in some random place, which,” she added playfully as she leaned back and settled into her chair. “Is what you’ll have to do if we come back tonight for dinner because I’m liable to fall asleep in the car.”

The insinuation of her agreeing to come to the cinema with him seemed to perk him right up. That and getting to come back to the restaurant later tonight. But mostly getting to spend more time with her had him cheering up. It was something they hadn’t had too much time to do, as they had both been busy the past few weeks so this was perfect.

“That’s okay! I did that when we were in Manchester and it’ll be like you said, just like old times.”

A bashful smile flitted across Amiee’s face as she looked down at her hands, her face warming as she remembered waking up next to him those mornings. Curled up and feeling safe even if her world was trying to fall apart. 

She would be lying if she said she didn’t think about those moments every day she woke up. What it would be like to wake up beside him again. God, she missed it.  But maybe with this unofficial date, they were one step closer? She really hoped so.

“Well, then Clair, it sounds like we have ourselves a… date?” 

There was a bit of trepidation in her voice as she asked him. But there was also thinly veiled hope in it that she almost wanted him to hear. 

It seemed though that he had heard or at least caught on to what she was saying as there was a sudden burst of warmth that bloomed in his stomach. Before he knew it, that warmth was radiating from his stomach, to the full smile on his face that had grown without him noticing it. 

“Yes! It’s a date!”

Neither of them knew how they survived the rest of the work day after they returned from lunch, solely because their minds were focused on their evening outing. Sinclair, who was normally very much dedicated to his work, was very much the opposite, as his brain bounced from thing to thing. 

He had the hardest time focusing on any of the papers that were piled up, only thinking about why time wasn’t moving quicker as he was eager to hang out with Amiee.

Amiee was the same way of course. While not as busy as Sinclair was at the moment, she could hardly focus on the training manuals that she needed to look over. Her brain was buzzing with anticipation, and she found herself pacing around the office more than once. Stopping from time to time, to stare out the window as her mind wandered to everything that wasn’t work.

When the clock finally struck five, Sinclair was the first out of his seat as he quickly and haphazardly packed some documents in his briefcase. He would take a look at them in his home office tomorrow, he had more exciting things to look forward to tonight. Rushing out of the office, he was met with a startled look from Sarah who had only started packing her bags. 

“Leaving already Sinclair,” she asked, pausing her packing as she watched him fiddle with the keys to his office.

“Yes!” His tone was more enthusiastic than normal, and a sheepish smile appeared on his lips as he turned to look at her. “Yes,” he repeated more calmly, yet still radiating that bright energy of his. “I have some things to do at home tonight and I wanted to get back early. I know! Very peculiar for me to be leaving so early but it’s been brewing in the back of my mind for days. Don’t let the other know you’ve seen me leaving okay?”

“O-Oh okay, no problem I guess.” It wasn’t like she was going to tell anyone anyway. “Well have a good weekend!”

“You too, buh bye!” He answered, waving back at her and briskly walking away, leaving a very confused secretary who just shrugged and went back to her packing.

When they arrived at the venue, Amiee briefly wondered if they had turned up in the wrong place because this was not your average cinema. Expecting to see the normal brick building and maybe some glass here or there. She was surprised to see them pulling up to a building that was basically like an art school of some sort. 

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” She asked dumbfoundedly as Sinclair helped her out of the car.

“Yep! They usually do the private screenings of the new films here or sometimes at one of the galleries near Kensington.” He explained as they walked up the steps of the building.

For a Friday night, it wasn’t too busy, but granted, it was a private event, so she shouldn’t have expected a whole lot of people from the public meandering around.

“Wow, never thought I be at a rich person’s cinema,” she mused out loud before she immediately felt the need to lower her voice as they entered the place. “Must be nice to not hear all the talking and carrying on in the public ones. Though I don’t see a concessions booth, and I’m not sure if I appreciate that or not. Do we get like seat side service?”

“I don’t know, I quite like being in the cinema with others, it makes for a good ambience. Some of the ones in the area have gotten upgrades with their furniture and sound as well! But also yes to your point there isn’t usually food here,” he sighed as if it was the worst crime that the place had committed. “I don’t come often because of that, I think the last time I was here it was last summer with Natalie-.” 

There was a sudden pause in his speech, and Amiee looked up to catch a forlorn look that crossed his features.

Natalie? Was that the name of his wife? Or soon to be ex-wife? There was this incessant urge to pry a bit more into what had happened because she still wasn’t aware of what had gone on. Call her nosy, but she was just curious about what had happened that caused Sinclair to clam up anytime anything about this mysterious ex was brought up.

But that was maybe for another day, because she didn’t want to ruin a night of fun with questions about the woman. Plus, it couldn’t have been at all good, which only made Amiee dislike her even if they hadn’t ever met. She hoped it stayed that way. 

“No food?” Her tone was incredulous as Sinclair handed a man standing by another door the entry tickets. After he gave the passes a quick check, he let them through to the main screening portion of the theatre. “I would have shoved some crisps or something in my purse if you had told me that beforehand,” she continued, steering the conversation away from the unpleasant subject as they searched for an empty pair of seats. “When I was in uni, one of my friends brought a whole meal into the theatre. Snuck it right in with her purse and no one even knew.”

His expression relaxed as she told her story, and he couldn’t help the warm chuckle that left him as he led them to an empty spot.

“That was a brilliant idea from you friend though, how put off would you be if I asked you to shove some sandwiches in your bag next time we do this?”  

“Well, as long as you share I’ll do it, but if we get caught I’m going to act like I don’t know you.” 

Sinclair feigned a hurt expression, his brows drawn, and a little pout on lips that made Amiee want to laugh, but she held it in, a smirk being the sign of amusement on her face.

“Of course I would share with you! But now that you're threatening to leave me to fend for myself, I’m not sure if I want to!”

“I’m teasing Clair, I'm teasing. I would never rat you out to the theatre authorities. You know that’s not my style. We’re just gonna have to make a run for it if they catch up.”

“We can throw a sandwich on the floor and make them slip just like if it was a banana peel,” Sinclair added, but quickly retracted it at the thought of food waste. “Wait no we can’t sacrifice the food- Oh look the movie’s starting I think!” He whispered enthusiastically as the lights in the room began to dim and the screen began to brighten.

Giving each other one more grin, the two of them settled in to watch the film.

The movie was terrific. Well to Amiee that is. It was a good thing that the place didn’t provide popcorn, though to be honest it was pretty cheap of them not to. So fancy yet no snacks, she was surprised Sinclair wasn’t bothered by that. 

Granted if they did have popcorn, most of it would have been on the floor if he had been in charge of it. He had jumped over five times during the first half of the movie. And honestly, him getting startled did more to scare Amiee than the actual movie. 

“Oh my god, why are there bees in his mouth? What is he about to do,” Sinclair stuttered out as he watched the Candyman grab the main character, Helen, before kissing her. 

Sinclair made a gagging sound as one hand went to cover his eyes, so he could avoid watching the bees swarm down the poor woman's throat. His fingers were gripping the armrest so hard that Amiee was sure it was going to leave a permanent dent when they were done. 

“Okay but what would happen if she was allergic to bees? Wouldn’t that mess up his whole plan if she died right then from shock?” Amiee whispered to Sinclair who was trying to block out the whole thing. She was serious though! Why this man was trying to ruin his own plan? 

“And if not, what if she chokes on them? Come on he’s dead he should know these things!” She continued unfazed by what was being shown as she had been the entire time. 

Well, that was just slightly untrue as both of them had let out pitiful sounds at the fate of a side character’s dog.

“No not the puppy.”

They had both whimpered as they watched the scene that could have been left out for all they cared. Poor Sinclair seemed to be affected by it the worst out of them both. Of course, he would be, he was part puppy and seeing anything happen to his family was upsetting.

The moment had him laying his head on her shoulder as he looked away from the screen. His face buried as if trying to hide away, and instinctively Amiee’s hand went to stroke his head as the scene played out. Sinclair stayed like that until Amiee gave him the all clear, but of course, he stayed on edge the entire time. 

Their hands stayed tucked together the rest of the movie and up until Sinclair got Amiee into the car before they drove back to the Wharf for dinner.

“I admit the plot and lore was fascinating. But I’ll never be able to look at bees again in the same way,” Sinclair blanched as the waiter took their menus away after they finished their orders. “And then the poor puppy! Amiee, they didn’t have to hurt it,” he whined, still upset about that part of the movie. “I think I may have nightmares tonight.”

“If it makes you feel any better I bet the pup got a lot of treats that day during shooting,” Amiee offered in hopes of cheering him up seeing as he was mainly upset about the dog. “I bet they used jam or something for the effects and had to keep it from licking it all up. It was probably a fun day for it!”

“Now that you mention it! I know one of the tricks they use to get dogs to lick someone is to put flavored grease on the person,” Sinclair pointed out happily. “ I read it in a movie magazine before and thought that’s brilliant of them. I’d be enticed by the smell of bacon grease too, and I’m not even a dog!”

‘Well not a four-legged one but there are definitely some puppy genes in there.’

Amiee thought to herself as she tried to avoid laughing to herself.

“Yeah! It was probably the same as this movie. Maybe we should see if they can add some bloopers in the credits where we get to see the dog rolling around,” she joked swirling the lemon in her water before taking a sip. “Plus, we don’t need you staying up all night when you have an early morning tomorrow.”  

The statement garnered a puzzled look from Sinclair who didn’t understand what she meant. He didn’t think he had anything he had to do in the morning. Unless he was missing something, which he didn’t think he was.

“I do?” He asked, along with an adorable tilt of his head to the side that had her ‘awwing’ internally.

“Yes! I mean…Well actually now that you’re asking me I don’t know!” She laughed. “Don’t you go into the office on Saturday mornings, you’d always used to,” she pointed out, before giving him a cheeky smile. “Unless you’re telling me that you’ve finally fallen out of love with work.”

She always thought it was a bit strange that he went to work on Saturday mornings. Wasn’t forty hours a week and occasionally fifty enough? When she asked him about it one day, he simply just said he liked it, and it helped him keep up with all the work he had. 

Secretly though, she always thought it was to catch up on work he hadn’t done due to his time management. Or lack thereof. Even as perfect as he was, he needed a flaw. Hiding her laughter she listened to him.

“Oh well no, I erm,” he paused for a moment thinking of a way to explain the situation while carding his hand through his hair. He thought and thought and yet there wasn’t any other way but to directly say it. 

“Well you see…oh god this is such a weird place to be talking about this,” he chuckled nervously, even though there was no humor in his voice and his hand had dropped to fidget with his fingers.

“Then we don’t have to,” she replied swiftly, not meaning to bring up anything heavy. “Sorry didn’t mean to rain on the parade, I just always thought it was funny that you went in on Saturdays. You couldn’t pry me from my bed if I didn’t have to be anywhere,” she grinned.

“You’re such a sleepyhead,” he teased, causing Amiee to give him a proud look before a thoughtful look crossed his features. “But no, please don’t apologize, it's not like you would have known. It’s just, well…” He trailed off with a shake of his head before answering truthfully. 

“I stopped going in because, during marriage counseling, the therapist asked me to. They believed it would help mend the issues that had caused us to have to go in the first place.” He explained to her. “It didn’t, hence the divorce, but I did find out I do actually enjoy a nice lie in during the weekend.”

Listening intently up to the end, she couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for Sinclair. He did what he was asked to do, and she assumed that he did try but it didn’t work. Though he did gain something at the end which had her ears perking up. 

“Sinclair?” 

“Hmm?”

Taking a breath, she spoke.

“This is going to make me sound like a right arse but.” There was a pause as she looked at him, a waiting expression on his face before she finished with, “I’m pretty sure I told you that before!”

By the way his eyebrows raised, he hadn’t been expecting that statement to come from her. Even more confused than before he blurted out, “you did?”

“About the lie in thing? Yes!” Her voice was higher than normal as she tried to keep herself from falling over with laughter. She didn’t know why it was so funny but it was, especially paired with the surprised look on his face. “You slept like an absolute log on Saturday mornings when I would stay over. I don’t know why’d you ever torture yourself going in like that.”

“See but that was easy! Do you know how cozy it is to sleep with you-?”

There was a sudden pause, and he could feel his cheeks becoming warm at his terrible word choice. Brown eyes that had widened at his statement stared at him, and he could see a pale red blush begin to spread across her face. 

‘Damnit don’t embarrass her!’

The voice in his head chided him even though in reality Amiee wasn’t embarrassed at all. More flattered than anything. 

“No sorry I-I mean!” Spluttering and tripping over his words, he fumbled for a moment more before carefully stringing the words he found together. “It was nice to have someone that didn’t mind being held or you know, have someone who liked to hang off your back like a kola…it’s very cute, and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

What? Did his ex not cuddle with him often? She needed to meet this woman and find out her problem because who wouldn’t want to cuddle with Sinclair? You know what, never mind, maybe it was for the best that they didn’t meet.

“Well, then I’ll have you know that I for one am glad that you are taking the advice and staying home now on Saturdays,” she chirped truthfully. “You work too hard. It's admirable, but also don’t go working yourself to death! I need someone to spot me when I’m being dangerous.”

He grinned warmly at her statement and all she could do was sigh internally. How was one person so handsome, sweet and playful? It was truly easy for her to forget about her problems with him.

“I will try not to! But also please don’t, it would scar me,” he half joked as it probably would do that.“Anyways, enough about me! What do you have planned? I hope that flat hunting is in the cards because I still don’t like where you’re living. It’s not safe.”

Of course he didn’t.

“Sinclair it’s perfectly safe where I live. I’ve been there for almost two years and the only danger to me is my flat itself,” she joked even though it didn’t seem funny to him. 

He just pouted at her and she resisted the urge to playfully roll her eyes at him. She knew he meant well, but she was also used to living in places that were a bit rough around the edges.

That didn’t mean he was wrong though, she did need to find a new place. Not only because she wanted to be closer to the office as the hour commute both ways was draining, but also because she needed an extra room for when Angie came to stay with her.

“If it pleases the court to know,” she informed, sarcasm dripping from her voice, “I’ll probably be moving in autumn after I save a bit.” And it did seem to put him at ease as he let out a pleased ‘good’ while she could only shake her head humorously at him.

“But for tomorrow I’m actually going home! Angie’s getting out of hospital and I was gonna spend a few days with my parents and her. Make sure she’s alright.”

This was the first time Sinclair had heard about this, and his face absolutely brightened at the good news. He knew she had gone back one more time since the initial visit but that was about it. 

“Amiee that’s wonderful!” He exclaimed warmly, his eyes shining while Amiee’s cheeks hurt more than usual at how much she had been smiling. “I’m so glad to hear she’s alright. Do you need my help or anything? Since I’ll be at home I can take you if you want? I quite liked the visit last time oh- no that’s not what I meant. I mean you know it had been a while since I went there, not that the situation was any good.”

“I know what you mean Clair,” she said, saving him as she shook her head with a chuckle. “But no, it’s fine. I’ll probably go sometime in the afternoon since I’m going to stay till maybe Wednesday. But it’s great. I’m just super, super happy I don’t have to see her with that tube again. It’s just…ugh.” 

Just the thought of her sister in hospital made her stomach churn and she tried to push the thoughts as far away as possible. All that mattered now was that she was better, and they could figure it all out after she was home and on the mend.

“Do you know if she’s going to be alright? I mean you know…I’ve read that with things like that it only takes a few minutes to impact the brain and it can damage-.” Stopping his spiel abruptly, Sinclair looked down for a moment as if a thought crossed his mind before he returned his attention to Amiee who patiently waited. “Oh actually, I shouldn't bring something like that up. I’ve been trying to keep in mind that it’s not appropriate when it comes to stuff like that, sorry.”

What he said was a little off putting as she hadn’t at all found it inappropriate. He liked to share information, and it was always accurate when it came to whatever subject they talked about so she didn’t mind. 

Plus, it just meant he cared about what he was talking about and wanted others to know. She wondered briefly if his therapist also told him that. Granted she was getting the idea that it may also have been influenced by someone else. She grimaced at the thought.

“No, no it’s okay! It’s the truth and something the docs were looking out for as well,” she explained. “But thankfully, when I talked to her the other day, even though she sounded a bit croaky, which fair I would be too if I had a tube shoved down my throat. It seems like her motor functions will be fine, and they just want her to do a few months in physical therapy.” 

“Thank goodness! That’s scary stuff and I’m glad she’s okay,” he sighed in relief. “Will you tell her I said hello when you see her? Maybe I can send some flowers with you to take to her as well?”

“Clair no you don’t have to! I’ll tell her you said hello though, she’s going to flip out probably knowing that we work together again.”

This piqued his curiosity, as did most things in life, but this really interested him.

“Really how come?”

It was Amiee’s turn to look down and away from him, hiding her face as she tried to figure out how to tell him her sister was a raging romantic, and would probably go crazy knowing they were ‘together’ again. 

“Oh god, erm how do I explain,” she laughed nervously as she tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear.“Just know Angie used to consider you as one of my ‘bad’ decisions. But in a good way.”

“I don’t follow, a bad decision? In a good way?” Again an adorable head tilt followed his confusion. “Those can’t exist, they’re the complete opposite of each other?” 

“Well okay, how about I put it like this, from the last I read, London’s a city of almost 7 million right?”

“Yes, that's what the BBC showed a few months back. We’re growing at a steady rate.”

“Right, So I don’t think it’s a stretch to say, it’s a bloody miracle that I applied to where you work, and that Arthur happened to not come in, leading you to be the one I had to talk to.”

There was a thoughtful expression on Sinclair’s features as he pondered what that had anything to do with why her sister would freak out. But slowly, he started to get the image and the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. To say he was merely happy was an understatement.

“Rubbish!” He exclaimed, startling her before grinning at her reaction. “Is what I would have said, because where’s the logic in that? But, when you put it that way, statistically a lot of things had to go right for us to run into each other again.”

“Exactly! I’m glad you agree,” she nodded. “And I don’t know about you but I’m proper chuffed that things somehow turned out this way.”

“Me too! I’m happy you’re here Amiee and I hope you don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. If you do, I’ll be sure to follow. There are billions of people in the world, and I don’t want you to get lost among them.”

Because he would be damned if he lost her again. 

A warmth bloomed in her tightening chest at his words. His amber eyes were bright, and warm, just like a crackling fireplace on a cool autumn day. The smile he wore radiated that same feeling, as he declared how happy he was, even though just from how he looked, at her one could properly tell how he felt. It caused feelings that swirled in her to push at her, wanting her to get up from her seat and hug him. To never leave again and to stay put with him. 

But, she did her best not to succumb to them as her mind constantly reminded her it was too early. That even if her heart, still entangled with his wanted more, she should wait because things had changed and they needed to tread carefully. At least she could promise him she wouldn’t leave again, because truthfully, she didn’t think she could survive that heartbreak a second time.

So with a shake of her head, she smiled at him, a gentle smile that was illuminated by the warm orange lights of the restaurant. A smile that made him forget that there were other people around as everything became background noise. It was just her and him as she spoke.

“No, not this time. Promise.”

By the time they had finished eating, and Sinclair had gotten them back to her flat, it was almost midnight, and they were both absolutely knackered. Helping her get out of the car, Sinclair led her up the stairs to her flat. Her hand comfortably resting in his as they chatted and laughed up until they made it to her door.

“Well this is me,” she yawned, her body alerting her once more that it was past her bedtime after the fun evening. “Thanks for the film and dinner. And I’m going to pay you back one day I swear.” The last part added on as she had been unsuccessful again at paying for their meal.

“You’re welcome and I absolutely won’t accept it unless! You being around is payment enough!”

“Well if you put it like that how can I say no?” She beamed, causing him to reciprocate her gesture with a grin of his own before they laughed. “But really, thank you for tonight Clair, I had such a good time. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve laughed till my face started hurting!”

“Me too! Hopefully…we can do something like this again soon?” He asked hesitantly, not wanting to make it seem as if he was pushing her to do anything. 

“I would love that! Maybe we can talk about it some when I get back to town? How’s that sound?”

“That’s absolutely perfect!”

His little shout of happiness was accompanied by him squeezing her hand, reminding her that they were indeed holding hands once more. His larger one engulfed her smaller one and she couldn’t help but enjoy the comfort it brought as she squeezed his back.

“Well, it’s getting late and while you’re lucky to get to snooze in, I have a train to catch tomorrow,” Amiee pointed out as she stroked his hand with her thumb absentmindedly. “Drive safe and please call me when you get home okay?”

“I will! And…will you do the same when you have time tomorrow? When you get settled of course!” He added not wanting to seem overbearing, but just wanting to make sure she was safe.

“Of course,” she nodded before they stood in silence. 

It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was a feeling of underlying energy as they watched one another. Waiting to see who would move first to do anything. If one of her neighbours came out at that moment, they would think they had interrupted a pair of lovers with how close the two were. 

“Night night Clair,” Amiee whispered to break the stillness as she looked up at him. Even in the dim light, his eyes shone bright as they stayed trained on her. 

“Good night Amiee,” he responded in a murmur as he watched her carefully, admiring how she added beauty to any setting they were in. Even in the hallway of her building.

They stood for a moment, hands intertwined for a little longer before they let go of one another. Lingering for a bit to just say goodbye one more time, Sinclair waved before he made his way down the hallway. Amiee watched until he disappeared around a corner before she let herself into her flat which was illuminated by the hallway light.

Kicking her shoes off and relocking the door, she stood there quietly, her back facing the entrance as her mind raced with thoughts. A loud exhale left her lips before she found her back against the door, and she couldn’t stop the smile that brightened her expression as she wrapped her arms around herself. 

Similarly, as Sinclair sat in his car, the radio turned low to provide background noise, he looked in the direction of her flat’s building. Resting against his seat and thinking of all the emotions he had felt that day, he noted that most, if not all of them, were feelings of fondness. It felt good as it had been a while since he had felt that way and it was all because of her. 

Still staring in the direction of her flat, he noticed a light illuminating from her window that was not on earlier. A sense of comfort washed over him knowing she was inside safe and he knew it was okay for him to leave. So giving the building one last glance, he whispered a tender,

“Good night darling.”

A/N: Ekkk i had so much fun with this chapter! I hope it makes up for how angsty the past chapters have been. These two deserve some fluff haha. I'll probably be a while in updating again (as if i'm ever quick) as I think I want to finish more chapters before posting but we will see.

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of Satosugu 2023 Day 1 - Tails

Satoru just sat down for dinner when he hears the front door. It’s surprising enough to make him freeze in his motions for a second before he resumes eating.

“Satoru?” Suguru calls out, sounding just as surprised as Satoru seems to be and it’s not long before Suguru comes into the kitchen.

“Suguru, hey,” Satoru greets him, before he looks down at his plate and then the stove. “I didn’t know you’d be home, so I didn’t plan for you, but there should be some leftovers anyway,” he offers and watches how Suguru pushes a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, my shift got cancelled,” he sighs out and makes his way over to the stove. “What about you? You usually have classes at this time, right?” he asks and Satoru shrugs as he watches with a pleased little feeling how Suguru takes the offered food.

“Cancelled,” he simply gives back and they fall into silence. 

It’s almost uncomfortable; clearly neither of them really know what to do with the other. It’s not often that they are home at the same time, after all. Suguru has more than erratic work hours and Satoru is taking enough classes to always have something going on, so usually the only times they see each other is at the door.

More often than not one is leaving while the other comes home and it hasn’t made for a very good flatmate relationship. Satoru imagined all of this differently, if he’s being honest.

It’s not that they don’t get along; Satoru caught enough glimpses of Suguru and his likes to know that they could probably hit it off really well, if only they get the time to actually hold a decent conversation. 

Or–

“Hey, since we’re both here, what do you think about a movie night?” Satoru asks, and this is just another thing they’ve put off for way too long already.

They talked about movie nights the day they moved in with each other, and since then there hasn’t been a single evening where both of them have been home. Until now.

“I–” Suguru starts, and it’s so obvious that he wants to refuse that Satoru’s shoulders already drop with the anticipated rejection. “Actually, yeah, that’d be good,” Suguru finally breathes out and Satoru’s eyes snap back to him. “Do you have a movie in mind?”

“Oh, I–didn’t actually think you’d say yes,” Satoru admits, his mind blank of every movie that was ever made and Suguru laughs.

“Not gonna lie, I’m tired as hell but we’ve been putting this off for so long and I think it would actually be nice to spend some time together, wouldn’t it?”

He seems nervous, as if Satoru would laugh in his face for thinking that when it was Satoru who suggested this in the first place.

“It would be,” Satoru quietly admits. “But let's eat first. Here, I’ll share more with you and then I’m sure I still have some snacks around. You at least shouldn’t go hungry like that.”

“Thank you,” Suguru earnestly gives back as Satoru shoves more food on his plate. “You have a lot of snacks around, right? I always see something laying around.”

“Yeah, I got kind of a sweet-tooth,” Satoru sheepishly admits. “I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die if my blood sugar falls below a certain threshold.”

“Pretty sure that’s impossible,” Suguru shoots back immediately. “You have to eat healthy during your meals then.” A contemplating look crosses his face. “I’ll just make double on the days I’m home. Gotta get some vegetables into you.”

“Bah,” Satoru spits out and chuckles when it makes Suguru laugh.

They don’t know each other, not really, but Satoru is optimistic that that will change in the future. 

“So, any movie recs?” Suguru tries again and Satoru shrugs.

“I’m good with anything as long as it’s not horror.”

“What, you scare easily?”

“And often, and then I scream,” Satoru easily admits, because being seen as ridiculous for this really is the least of his worries. 

“Noted,” Suguru nods, completely serious and for that alone Satoru likes him a whole lot more. “That’s out then. Action movie?” 

“Sure,” Satoru nods, even though he couldn’t care less. It’s been a while since he enjoyed a movie, mostly because his attention span can only be held for so long and most movies go way past that.

“You don’t seem convinced. We can do something else,” Suguru offers, but Satoru shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s fine. Let’s just go with a movie for now. I’ll trust your recommendation.”

Suguru narrows his eyes at him until Satoru sighs.

“Fine, my attention span is not the best,” Satoru admits, clearly not surprising Suguru in the least.

“Yeah, I figured. I keep stumbling over different textbooks every other day. But fine. We’ll do a movie tonight and then we can figure out a show or something for next time, to make it easier on you.”

At that, Satoru blinks.

“Next time?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to assume,” Suguru says, keeping his gaze on his plate. “I just thought–”

“Next time is good,” Satoru interrupts him, because he didn’t mean to make him self-conscious like that.

“Okay then,” Suguru nods, going back to his food, clearly enjoying what Satoru had cooked. 

It turns out watching movies with Suguru is just as easy as everything else seems to be with him. He doesn’t shush Satoru the first time he thoughtlessly comments on something; instead, he even engages with Satoru, keeping constant chatter going. It does wonders for Satoru’s concentration and it’s actually fun, because Suguru is witty and quick and arguing with him doesn’t feel like a fight at all.

It’s great, Satoru has to admit, and he hopes they get to do this much more often in the future. Maybe he’ll just skip out on a few classes to be home when Suguru is as well, it’s not as if he can’t afford it after all.

They both linger somewhat in the living-room, even after the movie ended, and it almost feels a little bit like a date Satoru doesn’t want to end. Not that it is a date, he’s quick to tack on, even just in the privacy of his head, lest Suguru somehow reads the thought right off his face.

“This was nice,” Satoru finally gets out and Suguru smiles at him. 

“It was. We do have to do it more often. I’ll see if I can arrange my shifts so I have a set evening off?”

“I’m flexible,” Satoru tells him with a shrug and Suguru frowns at him.

“You have classes.”

“Like I said, I’m flexible.” It’s not as if he needs all the classes for credit anyway. Some he just takes to not get bored. It’s perfectly alright if he ditches one to spend more time with Suguru.

“You’re weird is what you are,” Suguru mutters under his breath but unlike what Satoru usually gets to hear, this almost sounds fond.

He’s not used to that.

“Well, better weird than boring,” is what Satoru finally manages to say to that and something warm blooms in him when Suguru laughs slightly.

“True. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, Satoru? Sleep well,” Suguru gives back, finally freeing them of this awkward dance in the living-room and Satoru is quick to give the sentiment back, if only to finally put an end to whatever it is they are doing.

Back in his own room, Satoru sits on his bed and puts his head in his hands. It was a nice evening—good even—and now he’s even more sure than before that he and Suguru are going to be very good friends and yet.

He doesn’t understand why this evening left him feeling wistful.

~*~*~

Satoru wakes up with a gasp, his heart racing, tears flowing freely and grief overwhelming him. The feeling is so insurmountable that it freezes him to the bed, freezes him in this moment where Suguru is dead, killed by his own hand, after ten years of absence, only to come back possessed by a horrid parasite.

Satoru can’t breathe.

The tears continue to flow and he chokes on his sobs more than once as he curls up as small as he can get, his hands clutched to his heart as if it could stop it from tearing apart in his chest.

Suguru, Suguru, Suguru.

It’s the only thought in his head, the only thing he can think of at all and he remembers the dream so vividly it hurts him all over, even though he can barely make heads or tails of it. The feelings though, those are damn real.

Satoru thinks that the last smile Suguru ever gave him will haunt him for the rest of his life.

Suddenly, a new thought finds a place in his mind: Suguru is right next door.

They said goodnight to each other not even half a day ago, and Suguru is safe and sound, asleep in his own bed, like he should be.

At least Satoru hopes that he is, and now the grief and pain is replaced with an urgency he can’t contain.

He doesn’t care that the tears are still falling, doesn’t care that he has never been this frantic in his life before and he also doesn’t care when he falls face first on the floor, his legs tangled up in the sheets in his haste to get to Suguru.

He needs to get to Suguru. He needs to see him, needs to touch him, needs to know that he’s still there and whole and himself and the thought propels Satoru out of the room.

All decency is lost on him—there are more important matters to tend to after all—when he simply barges into Suguru’s room.

Suguru shoots up in his bed, clearly scared out of his mind but Satoru can’t care; he runs over and throws himself right at Suguru, crushing him to his chest.

“Suguru, Suguru, you’re safe, you’re okay, you’re still you, right?” Satoru rambles out, roaming his hands over Suguru’s body to check if anything is wrong, but his arm is where it’s supposed to be and when Satoru ghosts his fingers over Suguru’s forehead there are no horrid stitches to be found.

“Satoru? What the hell?” Suguru gets out, and he squirms in Satoru’s grasp but he doesn’t quite push him away.

Satoru is thankful for that. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t touch Suguru right now.

“You’re good, right? Suguru, tell me you’re good,” Satoru pleads, his voice choked up by new tears, because what if he says he isn’t?

What if he slips right through Satoru’s fingers like the first time—the first time?—and Satoru is left with nothing at all?

“I’m good, Satoru, I’m okay,” Suguru carefully says and lightly rests his hands on Satoru’s shoulders, finally giving up on bringing some distance between them. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” he then asks and Satoru buries his face in Suguru’s shoulder, clinging to him in a way that must be painful.

Suguru doesn’t complain, though.

“I lost you and then I had to kill you and even when you came back it wasn’t really you,” Satoru sobs out, his new tears soaking the fabric of Suguru’s shirt and he presses himself even closer when Suguru brings his arms up around him.

“Bad dream?” Suguru whispers, stroking his hand up and down Satoru’s back in a soothing motion.

“It’s—it felt so real,” Satoru says, the grief still licking up his throat and it feels as if he’s going to choke on it all over when Suguru hums reassuringly.

“I’m here, though. I’m okay.”

Satoru nods, because he can feel for himself that Suguru is right there, but still, he can’t bring himself to let go of him.

He doesn’t know if he can ever let go of him again.

“Are you—do you want to stay here, tonight?” Suguru asks when Satoru doesn’t move, when the tears won’t quite stop, and Satoru is quick to nod.

“Please,” he whispers out, still unable to let Suguru slip through his fingers again.

“Alright, let’s lay back down, okay?” Suguru carefully directs him down on the bed, and even though he can’t understand, must find this more than bizarre, he makes sure that Satoru doesn’t have to let go of him for even a single second.

For that alone Satoru would love him, if he wasn’t so busy being swallowed by all of his pain.

“Don’t leave me again, don’t, Suguru, if something is going on, you have to talk to me,” Satoru frantically says, now on his side and his forehead pressed against Suguru’s. “Promise me that you’ll talk to me if you don’t feel okay.”

“I will, Satoru, I promise,” Suguru easily gives back and Satoru is desperate enough to believe it. “It must have been a real bad dream, huh?” he asks, pushing some of Satoru’s hair out of his face.

“It felt so real,” Satoru whispers, remembering again how Suguru smiled at him right before he died and fresh tears slip out of his eyes. “Don’t leave me, please.”

“I won’t. I’m right here,” Suguru gives back, and easily moves closer when Satoru tugs on his shirt. “Try to get some sleep, alright, I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“May curses eat you if you’re not,” Satoru slurs out, sleep already tugging on him again, and the words feel strange on his tongue but Satoru also feels as if he’s said them a thousand times before.

His last thought before he falls back asleep is that he’d take Suguru’s worried face over his smiling one, if only it meant he gets to see it for the rest of his life.

~*~*~

The next day is strange. Satoru is thoroughly embarrassed by his behaviour, even though Suguru insists again and again that it’s fine and yet he can’t bring himself to leave Suguru out of his sight.

Suguru is there when he wakes up, just like he promised, but when Suguru leaves to make breakfast, Satoru follows him, as if there’s an invisible tie that’s binding him to Suguru that only has so much leeway.

“Satoru, are you okay?” Suguru asks over their breakfast—which he made with Satoru staring at him like a creep—and Satoru nods and then shakes his head before he finally settles on a shrug.

“Okay, that seems about right,” Suguru huffs out and gives Satoru a reassuring smile. “It was just a bad dream.”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Satoru admits, his eyes glued to Suguru’s right shoulder where he can still see the gruesome wound.

“It was, though, I promise, because nothing what you said yesterday happened. And I’m still right here, right?”

“Don’t leave,” Satoru immediately breathes out, as if the possibility of Suguru leaving grows smaller the more often he says it.

Suguru takes a deep breath and Satoru braces for the inevitable ‘Fuck off’ that’s surely coming his way.

“Listen, do you want me to call in sick today?” Suguru asks, a small frown on his face and the relief flooding Satoru is so stark that he feels dizzy for a second.

“Please,” he breathes out, reaching out over the table until he can touch the tips of his fingers to Suguru’s hand. “Please.”

“Alright. Alright, but Satoru, I can’t do that all the time. It’s just today.”

It’s a very nice way of saying that Satoru needs to get a goddamn fucking grip on himself and it’s enough to make Satoru snort out a laugh.

“Understood,” he agrees, because even one day is better than everything else.

They spend the day in close proximity, Suguru suffering Satoru’s touches without complaint and it does a lot to settle Satoru’s nerves. Suguru’s skin under his hands is unblemished, there are no limbs missing and he doesn’t give off any murderous aura.

Satoru still wants to hug him close and never let him go ever again, but he knows that he can’t. He’s already lucky that Suguru doesn’t seem to mind his strangeness too much, that he’s willing to indulge Satoru in this, and he can hardly ask for more, even though he never wants to stop touching Suguru.

In that regard, he’s spoiled, at least for today, because by the time evening comes around they are curled up on the couch, Satoru pressed into Suguru’s side and the reassuring weight of Suguru’s right arm around him.

“I’m sorry for being weird like this,” Satoru whispers halfway into an episode of the show they are currently watching. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“That’s alright,” Suguru replies, just as quietly. “Some things simply leave us rattled for no reason. And if that dream was so vivid—I’d probably do the same. And if this helps, I’m more than willing to stay right here.”

“Thank you,” Satoru gets out, fresh tears stinging at his eyes, and he buries his face in Suguru’s shoulder who easily allows it.

With what happened to them in the dream—in another life?—Satoru is sure he doesn’t deserve Suguru’s kindness but here, he’s going to take it all anyway.

Satoru must have drifted off, because he wakes to Suguru shaking him slightly.

“Hey, Satoru, let’s go to bed, okay?” Suguru whispers and panic grabs at Satoru’s heart.

He doesn’t want to sleep, he doesn’t want to dream and most of all he doesn’t want to be alone.

“You can sleep with me again, if you want,” Suguru says, clearly reading the panic right off Satoru’s face, who is quick to nod. Suguru is not going to take it back if Satoru already agreed, surely.

“Come on, then.” Suguru tugs him up, pushing Satoru towards the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Satoru rushes through his routine, afraid that a second too long will make Suguru change his mind but when he comes out of the bathroom, Suguru’s door is still open, a clear invitation to Satoru which he doesn’t hesitate to take.

Suguru is in bed already, he must have gotten ready before he woke Satoru up, and Satoru is quick to slide under the covers with him. He presses close almost immediately and Suguru easily accepts him in his space.

Satoru can’t help but to wonder why it feels so much as if they were made to slot together like this, but he doesn’t voice that thought.

Suguru already must think him a nut-case, there’s no need to add creep to the list as well.

“Sleep well, Satoru,” Suguru mutters, his breath tickling Satoru’s hair who relaxes at feeling it.

Suguru is alive, after all.

~*~*~

“Satoru, Satoru, Satoru,” Suguru’s voice drifts through Satoru’s sleepiness and he startles awake when he’s being crushed to a chest. “Satoru, I’m so sorry,” Suguru chokes out, sobs wrecking his entire body and Satoru freezes with panic.

“What? What happened?” he gets out, his hand immediately checking if Suguru’s arm is still there, if he lost him again, if this is another dream, but Suguru is whole against him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you, I’m sorry I left you, I’m sorry I made you be the one to kill me in the end,” Suguru chokes out and Satoru goes cold.

“Suguru?” he asks, craning his head back so he can look Suguru in the face. “Did you—have a dream?” he carefully asks, because that sounds a whole lot like the things Satoru dreamed about.

“I did,” Suguru sobs, curling up small in the bed. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Suguru,” Satoru breathes out, not hesitating to pull Suguru in his arms. “I’m so sorry, too,” he says, his own tears flowing again as well and he doesn’t know how long they spend like this until they both finally calm down.

“It’s not just a dream,” Suguru eventually whispers. “It can’t be. We have to—compare notes, or something.”

“Later,” Satoru decides and flutters a kiss over Suguru’s cheekbone.

That is one of the many things he hasn’t done—before?—and he’s not going to miss that chance again.

“We can do that later. It’s us, Suguru, right? Us against the world?” he asks because he has to know, he has to know if Suguru feels that the same way.

“You’re my one and only,” Suguru replies, tucking his face into the crook of Satoru’s neck. “It’s us.”

The panic is still there, somewhere deep down, the fear of losing Suguru for another ten years before really losing him, but Suguru’s words soothe something in Satoru.

There will be a lot to figure out in the morning for them, but this, there can’t be any doubt about this.

It’s them, together, and Satoru will make sure that this time, it will stay that way.