#in what i’ve got so far; and she suggested some stuff and i was like ‘oh i’m way ahead of you chief’

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[fingertipsmp3]

Love accidentally walking 3 miles with my best friend while talking shit about our jobs and accidentally outlining a novel

[chloe-skywalker]

Awkward Situation - Paul Lahote

Paul x reader!Fem!Swan

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,541

Requested: Twilight imagine the part in New Moon where Bella slaps Paul and her little sister is their w/her Paul imprints on the reader and jacob isn’t happy about it and stuff like that. - @cokecola4211

Authors Note: I enjoyed writing this I tried to make it different from what I’ve read before. Thank you for requesting! Sorry it took awhile to post my queue has been FULL lol

Masterlist

Twilight Masterlist

******************************************************************

“Bella, maybe Jake just wants to be alone- or maybe some guy time.” Y/n suggested it to her slightly older sister. Bella and Y/n were hardly even a year apart in age but that didn’t stop Y/n from occasionally getting treated like a baby compared to Bella.

Y/n knew Jake and Bella had been spending a lot of time together recently and it seemed to be good for her sister after the Cullens left. But Jake had become sick or at least that's what he and Billy had been telling Bella. Y/n wanted to just leave it, he’d come back on his own either way. But her sister, no Bella , needed answers now and she wasn't going to wait to get them on Jacobs time.

Bella shook her head with a tight expression on her face. “No, Y/n. Something's up. Somethings wrong I can feel it.”

“Bella, we’ve both known Jake practically our whole lives maybe he’s just-” Y/n shook her head lifting her hand in q wave motion before dropping it down to her lap. “I don’t know, going through puberty?”

“His dad keeps saying he has mono but it’s been almost 2 weeks and he won’t even answer texts. Let alone calls.” Bella explained further as she pulled into the Black’s driveway.

“Maybe he’s still sick.” Y/n tried one last time as Bella put the car in park.

“Well, we're going to find out.” Bella stated before she got out of the car.

Y/n unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car to chase her sister muttering to herself. “This isn’t gonna go well.”

Bella knocked on the door and shortly after Billy opened the door. Bella had told the man in the wheelchair that she needed to see Jake, but all she got was that he wasn’t there. Next thing Y/n knew her sister had welcomed herself into the home practically going right over Billy.

“Bella.” Billy called after her but it was too late and Bella wasn’t listening anyways.

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Y/n said apologizing for her sister's actions.

Billy let out a sigh and sent a tired smile to the younger Swan. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n.”

It wasn’t even a few minutes later that Bella stormed out of the house and Y/n followed yelling after her. “Bella!”

“Hey!” Bella shouted and shoved one of the shirtless males Y/n somewhat recognized. “What did you do to him?!”

That's all Y/n could really hear from so far back. So she shouted out to her sister again, hoping to defuse the situation if she couldn’t just get her to leave. “Bella!” 

“Y/n wha-” Jake spoke out suddenly standing beside the Y/h/c-ed girl.

“She dragged me here with her.” That's all Y/n had to say for Jake to understand what was happening. Charlie got Y/n in the devoirce so Y/n and Jake grew up together their whole lives as siblings in Forks. They could understand what the other was saying with just a look.

Jake nodded before looking back at the scene and then pointed “And that?”

“She slapped that Paul guy.” Y/n told him and that changed his demeanor.

“Crap. Y/n, stay back.” Jake said as he noticed Paul shaking.

Y/n wondered why but then she made eye contact with the Paul guy her sister was taking her anger out on. It was as if time showed for a minute. All the members of the pack put it together, and that's when Jacob flipped and inevitably so did Paul.

Seeing them turn into giant wolves Y/n ran to her sister. “Bella, you okay?” Her attention was drawn back to the wolves fighting not far from everyone. “Woah. Now that's cool.”

“Really, Y/n?” Bella asked, turning her head to face her sister in disbelief at how her sister wasn’t scared.

“What?” Y/n shrugged. In her opinion that was cool. Way cooler than Vampire super speed, the eyes, and sparkling under the sunlight someone dumped a 1,000 pounds of glitter on you. The Paul guy and Jake turned into Wolves! And not just wolves, Giant wolves. That's impressive.

“What just happened?” Bella asked Sam Uley she believed his name was. All the while Y/n was confused as to the looks she was getting from the others, a few she had grown up with just like Jake. 

“Paul imprinted.” Sam stated looking at Bella. Then Jacob came out of the woods still looking pissed off.

“On Y/n.” Jake grumbled, clearly pissed off at the new found fact.

“Take her back to Emily’s. Bella too.” Sam told Jacob which resulted in a very loud scoff from the younger male. “That's an order Jacob. Embry go with them.”

“Hey, Em.” Y/n nodded to Embry. They have been friends for years. It brought comfort to Y/n, knowing someone else. Someone that wasn’t pissed that would be in the car with her, her sister, and Jake.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” Embry smiled. He had missed seeing her around since he phased.

“Why is Jake so pissed?” Y/n asked Embry hoping he could fill her in on what's going on exactly.

Embry sighed before explaining. “Him and Paul don’t get along, and he’s protective of you. As he should be, you're like brother and sister.”

“Why would he be protective over me when it comes to Paul? I’ve never met Paul before.” Y/n squinted with a furrowed expression as she questioned Embry confused.

“Paul should be the one to explain it to you. It’s not my place, or anyone else's in the pack.” Embry felt bad for Y/n. She had no idea what was going on and it very much involved her. But like he said it wasn’t his place to explain any of this to her. 

Y/n nodded in understanding, kind of. But maybe he could explain something else to her. “Can you explain the pack part to me then?”

Embry nodded with a smile stretching across his lips. “Yes, I can do that.”

It wasn’t a long drive but long enough for Embry to explain about the pack to Y/n.

“Who’s place is this again?” Y/n heard Bella ask and she listened for Jake’s answer.

“Emily and Sam’s.” Jake answered as he got out of the truck.

Jake and Embry helped Y/n off of the truck bed. With a quiet thank you from Y/n they all headed inside. The only ones that weren’t there was Sam and Paul. But it didn’t take long for them to join in on the group.

“Can I talk to you? Outside. Alone.” Paul asked nervously looking softly at Y/n, to let her know she could reject his request if she wanted to. Y/n nodded ‘yes’ getting up to follow him.

“Over my dead body.” Jake growled, glaring with his eyes set on burning holes into Paul.

“Jake.” Sam said his name firmly. Making Jake stand down. For now.

“Come on.” Paul nodded his head towards outside Y/n nodded as well and followed him outside the small nice home.

They walked into the woods for awhile, Y/n assumed long enough to be far away enough so the rest of the pack couldn’t hear their conversation. “So, I assume that they explained the whole pack thing to you?”

“Embry did, yeah. But not the imprint part?” Y/n spoke with a unsure tone, hoping she got the word right. Paul nodded with a twitch of his lips. “Not the imprint part. What is that by the way?”

“Guess I should explain that part then.” Paul smiled, hearing her just say the word of what she is to him. That made him feel warm on the inside, which was a new feeling for him. He did like it though.

“Embry said it was only your place to tell me what it is.” Y/n looked to the still shirtless male with curiosity. What did it mean? What did it have to do with her? And why did Paul have to be the one to explain it?

“I have a spot I’d like to take you, and I’ll explain on the way.” Paul suggested there was a place he wanted to show her that only he knew about. Great view that he never that he never showed anyone.

“Ok” Y/n knew she was being way trusting with this stranger. But he felt trustworthy. She didn’t know why but he does.

Paul stopped them for a second in their tracks. He really needed to know something and it was bothering him that he didn’t. “I do have a question before we get too far that I should know that I do not.”

Y/n let out an amused breath before asking. “And what's that?” 

“Your name.” Paul smirked

Y/n nodded with a smile. “Y/n. Y/n Swan.”

“Well, Y/n Swan. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Paul’s smirk fell into a smile. He always teased the others who already had their imprints about how whipped they were, but now he was starting to understand.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97

[rynbutt]

pierced. pt. 9 | spencer reid.

Spencer wakes up in hospital and he's relieved to see you by his side.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, hospital ward, mentions of gunshot wounds, stitches, bruising, etc. mild suggestive stuff.

a/n: im actually crying this is cute

Spencer didn’t recognise where he was at first.

His eyes blinked open slowly, the beeping of the heart monitor being the first thing he heard. The first thing he felt was much worse, like he had been hit by a bus. He let out a shaky breath, his abdomen aching painfully as he tried to sit up. He froze when he heard a soft sigh beside him. It took a lot of effort for him to move his head, but he finally did and his heart warmed at the sight of you, sound asleep with your head next to his thigh.

You had your hand loosely over his, your other hand tucked under your head to make the uncomfortable sleeping position a little more comfortable. Spencer lifted his hand from under yours, gently running a hand over your head. The contact was enough for you to wake almost instantly.

“Spencer?” You mumbled tiredly, sitting up straight in the hard plastic hospital chair. You looked at him and felt tears come to your eyes when he tiredly smiled at you, his hand still resting in your hair. You let out a breath of relief, grabbing his hand and peppering it with soft kisses. “You scared me.”

“I love you too,” Spencer’s voice was weak, but he wanted it to be the first thing he told you. It was all he could think about while he was lying in the grass, staring at the sky. Despite the immense pain, thinking of you helped soothe him.

“W-What?” You wiped the tears from your cheeks, furrowing your brows at him. Of all the things you expected Spencer to say, it wasn’t that. You thought he might say something witty or start apologising.

“I love you too,” he repeated, a little more confident this time. “I didn’t get to tell you and I was scared I would never get to… after I was shot.”

You let out a breath of a laugh as you stood up, cautiously leaning over Spencer to press a kiss to his forehead. You were far too nervous to touch him anywhere else, fearing you would cause further damage.

“You look exhausted,” he mumbled.

“That’s what a girl wants to hear,” you retorted playfully, sniffling gently.

Spencer held your hand, “I’m serious. You should go home… These chairs are awful.”

“I wanted to be here when you woke up,” you replied, smoothing some of his hair out of his face.

“And I’m awake now,” he whispered, “you need to rest.”

“If anyone needs to rest, it’s the guy who got shot,” you chuckled, sitting back down in the hospital chair, still holding his hand. Spencer gave you a disapproving look, you waved him off, “I’m fine, Spence. Really.”

“At least eat something,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“I’m fine-”

“I know you,” Spencer said, “you haven’t eaten since I’ve been out.”

You sighed in defeat, letting him gently cup your cheek, “I will go get the nurse first, then I’ll go get something to eat,” you compromised. Spencer knew he wouldn’t win with you so he agreed.

You pressed the call button, waiting for the nurse to arrive before you even thought about leaving Spencer’s side. She checked his vitals, assessed his wound dressing and asked him a couple of questions before leaving the two of you alone again. Spencer gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes with a smile, finally leaving to find something to eat.

You found a 24-hour Seven Eleven at the hospital food court across the road. You picked out a ramen bowl and a drink for yourself before you noticed the little cups of Jell-o in the fridge. Knowing it was Spencer’s favourite, you bought about four of them. 

Spencer was sitting up when you got back, a slight pained expression on his face. The nurse had brought him some food and Spencer was not a fan of crappy hospital food. Spencer dropped his fork on the overbed table, giving up.

“Not a fan?” You chuckled.

“Tastes like a boot,” he grumbled.

You giggled softly before reaching into your plastic bag of goodies, “well, lucky for you, I’m the best girlfriend ever.” You pulled out the little cups of red and green Jell-o.

“Oh, I love Jell-o!” He exclaimed excitedly, reaching for the cups of Jell-o. He leaned cautiously toward you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled. You watched as he winced in pain slightly, moving back to comfortably sit lean on the bed. “Be careful, please. I just got you back, don’t go doing more damage.”

“Right,” Spencer nodded, peeling the plastic from the top of his Jell-o cup. He shoved a spoonful in his mouth, humming in delight, “way better.”

Spencer spent another 2 weeks in hospital for monitoring and you stayed by his side the entire time. Despite your protests, he pestered the nurses and doctors until they got you a more comfortable chair to sleep in. You still stayed awake to make sure Spencer got some sleep, refusing to rest until you knew he was asleep himself. 

After giving him the all clear, the nurses and doctors gave you strict instructions to keep Spencer from hurting himself further and risk tearing his sutures. You knew getting Spencer to relax would be a mission in itself so you made sure to call Hotch to let him know and you took a full month off work to make sure Spencer was settled before you left him on his own.

“Guys, I can walk to the car,” Spencer protested as you and Morgan helped him into the car.

“Doctor’s orders, kid,” Morgan retorted, he looked at Spencer pointedly, “now, you’re going to listen to Y/N, right?”

“Yes, Morgan,” Spencer replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Thanks for this, Derek,” you said, tossing Spencer’s bag into the backseat.

“It’s no trouble, pretty girl,” Derek smiled, “call me if you need anything or he’s getting on your nerves.”

“Will do,” you laughed.

Getting Spencer to the elevator and down the hall to your apartment proved to be more of a mission than you anticipated. Once you pushed your apartment door open, little Tofu came trotting up to the two of you, meowing relentlessly as if she was questioning where the hell you two had been. 

“Tofu!” Spencer beamed as she rubbed up against his leg. “Mom and dad are home,” he cooed. It took everything in his power to not bend down and rub her belly, but he knew it probably wasn’t the best idea after he’d been shot.

You grinned at his referral of you as ‘Mom and Dad’ to your little fur baby. You helped Spencer to your room, helping him sit down on your bed. You kneeled on the ground, untying his laces (since he hated taking his shoes off with the laces still tied) and placing them neatly next to your much smaller sneakers in the closet.

“Alright,” you breathed, “I know you don’t like pain medication-”

“No,” Spencer warned. You knew what had happened a few years back and you never pushed him to take anything when he was in pain, but being shot sort of had unique circumstances.

“Oi,” you retorted, giving him a warning look, “at least take something mild so you can get some sleep.”

“Okay,” he sighed. You gave him a very mild medication, something you took when you had a headache or back pain. You knew it wouldn’t do too much but it would at least provide some relief.

“I’ll be just outside, call me if you need anything,” you kissed his forehead, helping him lay back in bed, pulling the covers over him gently.

“Could you stay?” he muttered softly, looking up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes. Your heart melted and of course you couldn’t say no to him.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” you whispered.

You crawled into bed beside him, fishing around your covers for the remote and putting on some random documentary.

“I’ve seen this one,” Spencer mumbled.

“That’s the point, Spence. If I put on a documentary you’ve never seen then you won’t go to sleep,” you chuckled.

“Fair enough,” he said with a small laugh. 

Spencer went quiet after that, a soft yawn pulling from his throat as he relaxed into your comfy bed. You tucked yourself in close to him, letting him rest his head on your chest as you played with his hair, trying to soothe at least a little of his pain. He dozed off shortly after that, your apartment proving to be far more comfortable than a hospital bed in a freezing cold ward.

It was almost 2am when you woke up abruptly. You sat up in bed when you heard something fall in your bathroom. Looking beside you in bed, Spencer was gone and you knew his stubborn self tried to do something without waking you.

“Spencer!” You threw your bathroom door open, your eyes softening as you saw Spencer with his shirt halfway over his head, his arms tangled in the fabric. You helped him pull it over his head before you began scolding him, “Spencer, you’re supposed to wake me!”

“...I just wanted to shower,” he frowned.

Your heart softened and you sighed, “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You turned the water on, keeping your hand under the running water until it was warm enough for Spencer’s liking. You helped him take his sweatpants off and you helped him into the shower. Your heart aching at the sight of his red abdomen. It looked like it hurt a lot. The bruising had gone down significantly since the last time you saw it but it still looked awful. The thin incision was far smaller than you’d expected, given the damage the bullet had caused to everything beneath his skin.

Your shirt began to get wet and you decided you’d just shower with him. You pulled your shorts off and kicked them to the corner, pulling your (Spencer’s) shirt over your head and tossing it aside too. You gently washed every inch of him with unscented soap, making sure to be extra careful around his stomach. 

Spencer leaned almost his whole body weight against you as you washed his skin. He felt remotely human again being clean, sick of the awkward sponge bathes he had to have in the hospital. You washed his hair too, the feeling of your fingertips scrubbing his scalp soothing the aches in his muscles. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled against your wet hair.

“You don’t have to thank me, Spence,” you replied, rinsing the soap suds from his hair.

Spencer loosely wrapped his arms around your waist just revelling in the feeling of the warm water hitting his back. You rubbed the back of his neck, your other hand tracing small circles along his back. The two of you stood there for a good 20 minutes before you finally turned the water off and helped dry him.

You gently patted his wound dry and put a fresh dressing over it. You grabbed a fresh pair of clothes for him and helped him into them before helping him back to bed, still adorned in just a towel. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at you.

“I love you,” he said softly, grasping both of your hands in his.

“I love you too,” you replied, pressing a long peck to his lips. You let Spencer hug you close, pressing his head against your sternum with his arms loosely wrapped around your hips. You combed your fingers through his freshly washed hair, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of his head.

He finally let go of you after you mentioned still being dressed in nothing but a towel. You hung both your towels up in the bathroom before stepping into your slightly cold bedroom to pick some clothes for yourself.

Spencer whistled from where he was lying in your bed, his eyes raking over your naked body. You rolled your eyes playfully, looking at him. “Come here,” he grinned.

“Absolutely not,” you retorted.

Spencer frowned, “why?”

“I think sex after a gunshot wound to the stomach isn’t the best idea, Doctor,” you teased, pulling a pair of panties on and one of Spencer’s shirts to wear.

“Who said anything about sex?” Spencer retorted childishly.

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too- you know what? I’m not doing this with you,” you chuckled as you padded over to the bed, pulling the covers aside to lie down beside him. Spencer tucked himself close to you, lying his head next to yours.

“Only joking… sort of,” Spencer grinned.

“Mmm, thought so,” you laughed, closing your eyes to finally catch up on sleep. The two of you lied in comfortable silence before Spencer’s hand cheekily creeped up to cup your breast through the shirt you were wearing, you pried one of your eyes open, “Spencer…”

“Okay, okay, I promise I’m done!”

a/n: i want spencer to fondle my tiddies :(

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencereidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll @pinkpantheris @violetvsworld @readergf @pangirl-fangirl @emideadpoets @blackbeautyiloveyouso @feyresqueen @amethyst-marie368

[peachdues]

Seasons in Love (modern college AU: Part 1/2)

Sanemi meets Y/N in January and isn't a fan. As the seasons pass by, their evolving relationship becomes defined by a handful snapshots from the various holidays throughout the year.

A/N: part 1/2 of my college-AU fic to fulfill @shiverisms request for tooth-rotting Sanemi fluff. Part 1 covers January, the Spring and Summer festivals, Halloween and the week leading into finals in December. Part 2 will cover Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. This is unlike anything I’ve really written before, so sorry if it drags!!

CW: swearing, some suggestive stuff but nothing too bad. College-typical drinking and debauchery.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

January 2nd – first day of the spring semester

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated many things. He hated the cold, because wearing too many layers made him feel like he was suffocating. He hated when the store was out of his favorite brand of dried seaweed. He hated whenever he saw that asshole, Douma, simpering his way across campus with a gaggle of unwitting freshmen trailing helplessly behind him.

But most of all, he hated change.

So, when Shinobu brought along a new face to their first family dinner of the new year, he’s not happy.

And initially, he felt vindicated by his reticence to welcome her as warmly into their friend group as some of the others, because, despite his friends’ kindness, she’d failed to even muster a grateful smile for her hosts.

Not once, during the entire affair, did the girl – Y/N -- so much as twitch her lips upwards; not when she met any of his friends, and certainly not at any of the jokes or fun they’d had.

It’s not that she’d been sullen and withdrawn — she’d participated in conversation just fine. But that bland stoicism on her face had really gotten under his skin, because it reminds him of Giyuu, and they’ve already got one of those.

Sanemi told Shinobu as much later that night as he kicked back in her worn, mismatched kitchen chair while the pharmacology student idly flipped through her biochemistry textbook.

“I’ll ignore the dig at Giyuu for now,” Shinobu said lightly, though her eyes flickered briefly up to his in warning, “but I would think you of all people would have a bit of compassion toward her, Sanemi.”

Sanemi reached out to snatch an apple from the little fruit bowl that Shinobu has on her kitchen table, taking a crude chomp out of it. “Why?” He asked, voice garbled by his thick mouthful.

Shinobu shot him a fleeting look of disgust at his lack of etiquette. “Do you remember that girl I was paired with in my mental health law seminar last semester? The one who dropped out of our final project last minute?”

Sanemi swallowed his mouthful of apple. “Yeah. You were pissed.”

And she had been. Shinobu had been stuck with doing the other half of an entire presentation just two days before it was due, and it had been on statutory interpretation which had not been Shinobu’s strongest area.

Shinobu’s scowled. “That’s because I didn’t know the reason,” she reached for a highlighter to mark text on the page open before her.

“Her little brother died. Cancer. He was only eleven.”

In one breath, all his prior irritation with the girl’s presence is extinguished within him.

Now, Sanemi felt like an asshole.

Because if anyone understood what it felt like to lose a loved one — especially one as young as eleven — it would’ve been him.

“Fuck,” Sanemi exhaled, apple falling to the table, forgotten. Absentmindedly, he reached his hand to rub at his chest, just over the jagged scar beneath his shirt that was one of the many souvenirs from the car wreck that had managed to kill everyone in his family but him.

That had been nine years ago — when Sanemi had barely been twelve.

He certainly hadn’t felt like smiling much after that, either. Truthfully, he’d probably be in far worse shape now had it not been for the people clustered in Shinobu’s and Mitsuri’s tiny apartment.

“She also got cheated on last semester,” Shinobu added after a moment.

Sanemi sighed heavily, feeling even worse. The poor girl had gone through what was arguably the worst semester, and he’d chapped her ass over not smiling.

“I didn’t know that — by who?” Tengen emerged from the adjacent living room, breezing by the table and into the kitchen to help himself to whatever was in the girls’ fridge.

Shinobu’s eyes hardened. “Douma,” her tone was poisonous.

Both Sanemi and Tengen groaned in unison.

“She deserves financial compensation for that one,” Sanemi muttered darkly, motioning for Tengen to toss him a beer. The sleazy, lazy, and arrogant student body President had earned the reputation of being a serial cheater around campus. Shinobu briefly had a fling with him their first year that she’d ended after only a few weeks, once it became all too clear that he was a master manipulator.

And, as Shinobu had referred to him, an utter man-whore.

Tengen padded out from the kitchen, beers in hand. “That explains why she doesn’t really have a friend group anymore, then.” He quipped, handing the extra beer to Sanemi before plopping down next to him at the table.

Shinobu hummed in agreement, hand seamlessly moving across the glossy page of her textbook as she made a small, precise note. “You know how Douma is — first he fucks you, and then he fucks you.”

Sanemi snorted, shaking his head. “So that’s why you feel so protective of her, huh?” He nudged her with his elbow. “You know what she’s going through.”

Shinobu shrugged him off. “Maybe; but so do you.” She said pointedly, hand flipping her textbook shut. “So maybe just try to be nice?”

“When the fuck am I not nice?” Sanemi demanded indignantly, and Shinobu shot him such a pitiful look that he felt his cheeks heat.

Tengen just laughed. “I think the real question is when are you ever?”

Sanemi glared at his loud-mouthed friend, but before he could respond with a snappy retort, Shinobu spoke.

“I’m not saying you have to be a saint, but I want Y/N to feel like she at least has some support here,” her tone was light but it carried that signature soft threat she used whenever she meant business. “so promise me you’ll at least try to get to know her.”

Sanemi groaned but acquiesced. “All right, all right,” he’d muttered, reaching back for his earlier-discarded apple. “I promise.”

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

March 23rd – Spring Festival

As winter melted way into spring and the cherry blossom buds had begun to bloom, so did Sanemi’s friendship with Y/N.

He promised Shinobu that he would try to make the girl feel part of their group, and Sanemi is a man true to his word – but in retrospect, he hadn’t expected it to be this easy to become friends with her.

It started when they realized they shared three out of their four classes together. Sanemi walked into his first seminar at the crack-ass of eight in the morning on the first day of spring classes when he’d spotted her sitting in the second row from the front. Sanemi didn’t like most of the other people in his class, so sitting beside her had seemed like a no-brainer.

It had been the best decision he could have made. Y/N was smart as a whip, and often went toe-to-toe with the self-professed “devil’s advocates” during class discussions, managing to weave in Shakespearean insults while simultaneously ripping apart their inane arguments.

Soon, they began to meet up for study sessions at Mitsuri and Shinobu’s apartment, as Y/N had also become incredibly close with the two girls. Sanemi began to find himself at the girls’ apartment far more than he was at his own. In March, he discovered they had precisely the same tastes in music; within a day she had sent him several specially-curated playlists that featured bands similar to his favorite artists.

By the end of March, Y/N had announced her plan to move in with Mitsuri and Shinobu.

It wouldn’t happen until the end of the semester, when Y/N’s solitary lease ended, but she’d planned to move in right before she spent a month at home with her family – which also marked the first time she’d return home since her brother had died.

Sanemi wasn’t surprised at how quickly Y/N had bonded with his other female friends; she had a sharp, dry wit that matched perfectly with Shinobu’s lofty, passive-aggressive attitude, yet also seemed to find delight in spending time with Mitsuri, with whom she’d rapidly become attached to at the hip. Part of Sanemi had hoped that her friendship with the two women would lighten the shadows that crossed her face every so often, and that maybe she would finally crack a smile.

It wasn’t as if Y/N wasn’t expressive – she was, particularly around her eyes. More often than not, she was scowling at him or rolling her eyes at his barbs, but there had been a few occasions when he’d thought that he’d caught something softer as she looked at him. Other times, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye whenever Mitsuri challenged Tengen to an arm-wrestling contest, as though she were on the precipice of laughter, though none ever came.

Shinobu had suggested Y/N’s failure to smile was just a way of her processing her trauma and grief, and that she was doing everything she could to cope. Sanemi had not yet broached the subject with Y/N, not wanting her to feel compelled to open up wounds she was trying so hard to stitch together, but he worried that she wasn’t getting the support she needed.

Near the end of the semester, Y/N had become slightly more irritable, constantly jiggling a foot whenever she sat down, or wringing her hands in her lap whenever she was in deep thought.

Sanemi had agreed to study with her for their last final, but was on his last nerve as she continuously clicked her pen, each press of her thumb against the cap harder than the last.

“You have to stop.” He finally snapped, throwing his own pen down on his notebook before him to glare at her. “I can’t hear myself think.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise at his outburst before lowering, her arms folding insecurely in front of her chest.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her foot beginning to twitch beneath the table.

Sanemi sighed and slammed his book shut, folding his hands under his chin as he braced his elbows on the table. “All right, out with it; what’s got ya all bent out of shape?”

Y/N didn’t meet his eyes, instead toying idly with the ends of her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sanemi rolled his eyes and huffed. “You’ve been squirming nonstop for the last two weeks, and it’s only gotten worse,” he nodded pointedly at the way she kept twisting and untwisting a lock of her dark, silky hair around her index finger. “Somethin’s bothering you.”

Y/N remained quiet for a moment, but contemplative, weighing out the risks and the rewards of opening up to the scowling man sitting across from her.

“I haven’t been home since – since he died,” She began, shifting slightly in her seat. “And I’ve felt really closed off from my parents ever since the funeral. We haven’t talked much at all.” She bit her lip, staring intently at the wooden grain of the table. “I guess I’m just anxious about going back.”

Sanemi clicked his tongue. “I gotta say, I don’t envy you right now,”

“Thanks.” Y/N interjected coolly, but Sanemi held a hand up to quiet her.

“I mean, that car wreck just killed my whole family, so I didn’t have to deal with anyone else’s grief but my own,” Sanemi continued, and Y/N fell silent. “I can’t imagine having to deal with someone else’s.”

Y/N’s hand had fallen from her hair to the table, and it twitched toward him. She hestitated for a moment before finally reaching over and placing her small hand on Sanemi’s broad, scarred forearm.

“Sanemi, I had no idea,” she said, softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Sanemi surprised himself by not immediately shrugging off her touch, but he found it hard to meet her eyes. Most people looked at him with pity, and he’d long since lost the ability to stomach it.

Y/N slowly pulled her hand back from his arm, moving to wipe furiously at her eyes.

“Ah hell, I didn’t mean to make ya cry-“ Sanemi said, cursing himself for trudging up what had to be painful memories.

She shook her head furiously. “No, it’s not that,” she batted the tears from her eyes before meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ve just felt so…alone these last few months. Like I was drowning in my grief.”

Sanemi felt something within him stir at the intensity of her stare, something warm and comforting spreading through his chest. “But you’re not,” he said with equal quiet, offering her a small smile. “It’s the worst club to be a part of – the dead family club – but it’s nice knowin’ someone else in it.”

Y/N nodded, and Sanemi could swear he saw something like a ghost of a smile on her face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“If things at home get too hard to deal with this summer,” Sanemi said after a pause, “just call me. Any time.”

And damn him if he didn’t feel like he could soar at the look of hope in her eyes.

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

July 15th – Mid-Summer Festival

Summer had passed by slowly and lazy in the blazing heat.

Sanemi had spent the majority of their break at the Rengoku family lakehouse, working alongside his best friend as a lifeguard at the local swim club. When he wasn’t shouting at kids for being walking lawsuits as they ran alongside the pool and drinking cheap beer with Kyojuro, he had been texting Y/N – outside of their active group chat.

It was insane to him that she’d become as close with him as he was to Kyojuro. Sanemi had found her so easy to talk to, even over the phone, and eagerly checked for her messages the moment he awoke and the moment before he fell asleep. Once or twice, Kyojuro had even grumbled that Sanemi rarely texted the group chat back but seemed to have no trouble responding to one of Y/N’s many memes or song recommendations.

But now, the whole gang had reunited for a holiday weekend at the Rengoku lakehouse to celebrate the mid-summer festival with a cookout and fireworks.

Translation: they’d all come to get absolutely plastered while enjoying some fun in the picturesque water surrounding the generous estate.

It was day two of the festival weekend, and six of them were in the water, locked in a fierce battle of chicken. Y/N was perched on Sanemi’s shoulders as she wrestled Mitsuri, who was close to strangling a sputtering Kyojuro with her thighs as she desperately tried to remain upright. So far, he and Y/N had knocked out the other pair — Shinobu and Giyuu -- and were vying for the title of Chicken Champions.

Sanemi wouldn’t lie that he’d initially felt a bit smug over how Y/N had darted forward to grab his arm when Mitsuri announced the need to partner up. He’d thought it was because of his strength — he knew he was jacked, and he assumed that she had (correctly) concluded that she stood the best chance of winning if she climbed atop his shoulders.

“I won’t let you fall, princess.” He’d crooned, winking at her. She’d rolled her eyes at the use of his nickname for her, and he’d puffed his chest out, feeling a cocky sense of pride.

As it turned out, he’d been dead fucking wrong. Y/N hadn’t chosen him because he’d looked the strongest.

No. She’d chosen him because he was the only one she could get away with outright abusing in her ruthless play for the championship.

“Left, left, left!” She screeched, fingers snaring in his hair to wrench him harshly to the side, her heels digging sharply into his abdomen beneath the water as she desperately tried to steer him away from Mitsuri’s incoming flailing limbs.

Somehow, despite the searing pain in his scalp and the spray of lake water in his eyes, Sanemi had managed to follow her directions and the pair managed to narrowly avoid catastrophe. But Y/N wasn’t finished, as she tightened her shapely thighs around Sanemi’s neck to twist him back so she could lunge for the pinkette now unsteady atop of Kyojuro.

Sanemi had never been more grateful that the water covered him from the waist-down, as Y/N’s thighs clenched around his head once more as she shoved at her best friend with all her might.

Mitsuri had been too unbalanced to resist Y/N’s attack, and she finally toppled off Kyojuro’s shoulders and splashed into the water.

“Chicken Champs!” Tengen declared from the shoreline where he had been refereeing, more interested in working in a tan than he had been in getting in the water.

“I knew we’d win.” Y/N sniffed, tapping Sanemi’s head lightly. “I didn’t scalp you, did I?”

But Sanemi couldn’t answer because he was fighting a losing battle to conceal the growing bulge in his trunks, fearful that if any of his friends saw, they’d never let him live it down.

He’d known he was in trouble when she’d first emerged from the girls’ room in that tiny red bikini. For the last three hours, he’d been constantly reminding himself that she was his best friend and was therefore off-limits every time he’d caught his eyes lingering a second too long on her exposed skin and that he valued their friendship above all else.

But those rationalities were getting harder to remember the longer he felt her legs dangling over his chest, and his self-control was rapidly slipping.

So, upon Tengen declaring their victory, Sanemi did the only thing he could think of to escape his predicament— he slid his hands under her knees and dumped her into the water behind him, Y/N squeaking as she fell.

By the time Y/N’s head breached the surface of the lake, her eyes blazing and ready to fight, Sanemi had already been halfway back to the lake house, with nothing but a cold shower on his mind.

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

Later that night, once everyone was thoroughly shit-faced and Kyojuro and Tengen were itching to light the fireworks, Y/N was nowhere to be found. Sanemi broke away from the group, heading towards the boat dock just down a grassy hill when he’d spotted her sitting on the edge of the pier. She was leaning against one of the posts, legs dangling into the water below as she gazed up at the brilliant expanse of stars twinkling in the night sky.

“It’s about time to watch a bunch of drunk assholes blow shit up.” He said, crouching down to sit beside her.

Y/N merely turned her head toward him before looking away again, remaining quiet. Her eyes were clouded and wistful as she peered up at the sky, her lower lip wobbling slightly.

In moments like these, Sanemi had learned the best thing he could do was stay silent. If she wanted to talk, she would, but sometimes, she just wanted him near.

The two were quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the slow lap of the lake water as it broke against the wooden pier, and the distant echoes of laughter as Kyo and Tengen drunkenly tried to set up the firework display.

“It’s been eight months since he died,” Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft. “And I hadn’t even realized. I was so swept up in having fun that I forgot about him for a moment.” She looked down at her lap, fingers twisting nervously together. “I must be awful.”

Sanemi shook his head, his hand itching to reach out and pat her back, to offer her comfort, but it remained still on the wood beneath him. “Nah. Not awful.” He lifts his gaze up to the stars twinkling above them, the mid-summer night sky resplendent with light. “It’s shitty to say, but sometimes you’ve gotta remember that you’re still livin’— even if they’re not.”

Y/N snorted, bringing a hand up to wipe at the tears that had begun to cling to her eyelashes. “That’s a harsh way of putting it.”

Sanemi grimaced, resenting how poor he could be with words. “I meant that he wouldn’t want you to keep yourself from living just because of him.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What brought it on, anyways? I mean, what reminded you?”

Y/N leaned her head back against the worn post of the pier, chewing on her lower lip in thought. “I guess when Kyo mentioned it was almost time for fireworks. My brother loved the summer festivals, but he really loved the fireworks.” Y/N’s eyes slid shut momentarily as she reminisced, echoes of vibrant colors and the sounds of her brother’s laughter echoing in the corners of her mind. “He’d beg my parents to stay up past his bedtime to watch them. They used to tell him ‘No,’ but he kept sneaking out to watch them anyways. They eventually just gave in.”

Y/N paused, as she wove the connection between the memory in her head with the heaving feeling in her heart. “I guess that’s why I came down here.” She shrugged, as though to deflect the pain and loneliness that curled her shoulders forward, that still lurked in the shadows beneath her eyes. “Didn’t wanna drag the group down, you know?”

Sanemi looked back to Y/N, so beautiful beneath the starlight, so kind, and so very sad.

“I don’t think anyone would think you’re bein’ a drag,” Sanemi murmured. “But tell ya what — if you’re ever feeling down again while we’re all together, how about you give me a signal and we can dip out together ‘til you feel better?”

Y/N sniffed eyeing him incredulously. “A signal?”

Sanemi nodded. “Yeah, like — I dunno — a code word or something?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked back over the still water of the inky lake, considering.

“How about ‘chicken?’ In honor of our win today?” She said after a moment.

Sanemi grinned. “Perfect.”

The telling whizz and whirr of fireworks being launched into the sky cut Y/N off before she could reply. With a resounding boom! the night sky filled with bright streaks of red, white, pink, and yellow. Between the pulsing claps of the thunder of the fireworks, Y/N and Sanemi could hear the distant whoops and hollers of their friends.

Y/N’s eyes were locked on the dazzling display of fire and spark above them, a mixture of sadness and wonder glistening within them.

Later that night, just as Sanemi had been on the precipice of sleep, he’d realized he had not seen a single firework that his friends had launched in celebration of the summer festival.

Because while Y/N’s eyes had been fixed on the beautiful show of color in the night sky, Sanemi had not been able to look at anything else but her.

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

October 31st -- Halloween

“Stop moving your face,” Y/N said exasperatedly to the scowling, white-haired man sitting before her. “You’re going to mess me up.”

Sanemi wanted to crack an eye to glare at her, but he feared she might stick one of her makeup brushes in his eye socket if he did. Instead, Sanemi clenched his jaw, fists balling in his lap.

“You’re taking for-fuckin’-ever,” he muttered, wincing slightly as Y/N dabbed a cold, gel-like substance against his cheek.

“I’m not the one who picked the most high-maintenance costume out of our entire group,” Y/N scoffs, pulling away from Sanemi to blend together a mixture of red, brown, and gray face paint to apply on the fake wound she has created along Sanemi’s sharp cheekbone.  “I mean seriously, a wolf demon? Why not just go as a regular werewolf?”

It is Halloween and Sanemi regrets ever agreeing to a group costume theme.

It had all started when Shinobu, Mitsuri, and Y/N had come to their weekly family dinner a month prior with wicked gleams in their eyes. They had waited until everyone else had been seated before Shinobu announced that not only had she gotten all their names down on an invite list for an exclusive Halloween party at the Wisteria House the following month, but they would all be dressing up as part of a group theme.

Tengen, Kyojuro, and Gyomei had each expressed excitement while Giyuu, Obanai, and Sanemi had remained silent, though the latter only did so because he was too busy gaping at the girls, his mouth full of food.

“Tell me you three’ve already figured out the theme,” Tengen had said, his magenta eyes alight with excitement. “I want to be the flashiest group in that fucker.”

Mitsuri’s smile had only grown wider. “Mythical monsters - specifically demons!”

Sanemi’s groan had been cut off by a sharp kick under the table from Y/N, who was glowering at him threateningly. One look from her, and he’d known arguing would be pointless.

And that was how Sanemi had found himself now, on Halloween night, sitting stiffly on the worn-out ottoman in the girls’ apartment while Y/N smeared liquid latex across his cheeks to create the fake appearance of claw marks.

Mitsuri was on the other side of Y/N, painting fake slits on either side of Obanai’s mouth to give him a more snake-like appearance to suit his Snake Demon attire. The moment Sanemi had seen Y/N’s hands free up after she had put the finishing touches on Shinobu’s Butterfly Demon makeup, he’d nearly toppled over the coffee table to claim her before Kyojuro could sit down and occupy her time.

Truthfully, Sanemi had just wanted the chance to be near her. She was already decked out in her full Spider demon costume; her face painted a ghostly shade of white and accented by red circles meant to mimic the appearance of spider eyes. Sanemi, however, had miscalculated one crucial detail in his haste to be the only one of the men that she touched to do their makeup — how skimpy her costume would be.

Y/N was clad in a thin, white wrap dress that cut short just above her mid-thigh. The dress, though sleeved, also boasted a deep v-neck, and Sanemi was avidly trying to avoid staring at her exposed cleavage, which had also been painted and dusted with a shimmering powder. Her legs were bare, covered in the same glitter as the rest of her skin, and she was already teetering around in heels that Sanemi knew damn well would not stay on her feet longer than an hour.

In fairness, Y/N’s costume wasn’t nearly as skimpy as her pink-haired friend’s. Mitsuri insisted she was going as a cat demon, but Sanemi failed to see the correlation between the black unitard with the plunging neckline and anything remotely feline.

Y/N’s fingers brushed against his cheeks as she dabbed a mixture of paint to create the appearance of blood and Sanemi wills them not to heat under her touch. The task is nearly impossible, however, because he felt like he was being electrocuted every time she brushes against him. That feeling was only accentuated every time she moved to lean over him and pick up yet another beauty tool, the sweet honey of her perfume more intoxicating than the shots Tengen had made them pound earlier.

Sanemi was so lost in thought as he reveled beneath Y/N’s heavenly touch that he failed to notice her step back, eyes scrutinizing his face as she considered her handiwork. Sanemi cracked an eye open and watched her nod in satisfaction, finally dropping her makeup brushes on the side table.

“You’re done.” She said, tapping his shoulder to motion him to stand. Y/N thrusted a tiny makeup mirror in his hand so he could inspect.

She’d turned his existing facial scars into fake, bloodied, fresh ones, but elongated them to give the appearance of claw marks. She added an additional vertical scar that extended from above his right eyebrow to nearly his cheek. All in all, Sanemi thought he looked -

“Scary!” Mitsuri exclaimed, eyes widening softly. “He’s sure on theme — he’ll terrify people!”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disagreement. “No, I don’t think he looks scary,” she tilted her head in thought, Sanemi feeling slightly embarrassed as the two girls continued to look him over.

“I think he looks…,” Y/N paused, her eyebrow quirking up suggestively as her eyes lit up, dancing with a challenge. “Feral.”

Sanemi grinned at her, purposefully bearing his teeth in an effort to look as wolf-like as possible.

Tengen came back into the living room from where he and Kyo were doing shots and winked at his silver-haired friend. “You’ll still be able to pick up girls looking like that, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi doesn’t know why, but the comment irritated him, and he turned away from the group to hide his reddening face.

He doesn’t see the way Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at the comment.

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

It was two in the morning, and they are all utterly inebriated.

The Wisteria House — an exclusive club that Shinobu had only been able to get them into because of her connections to one of its proprietors — had been pulsing with music and lights as throngs of costumed revelers had ground to the thunderous beat of the music.

The group of them had thrived beneath the black light of the club dance floor, getting drunk on endless rounds of shots and mixed drinks that kept flowing from the bar like a waterfall of spirits.

But now, it was after two in the fucking morning, and somehow Sanemi had been stuck with corralling not one, but two drunk assholes back into their apartment despite being intoxicated himself.

The two assholes in question were also arguably the biggest lightweights out of all their friends — Mitsuri and Y/N.

Six of them had agreed to call an Uber to take them all back home to their apartments, but Kyojuro had gotten the whole group kicked out after he’d thrown up all over the driver’s pristine leather seats.

The blonde had been nearly unconscious when Tengen and Giyuu dragged him out the side of the car, and neither of them could stand to haul their blacked-out friend back to the boys’ apartment by themselves. But someone had to stay back to walk the two drunk girls back to their apartment because none of them were stupid enough to risk letting the girls walk by themselves - which was how Sanemi found himself in the position of the official babysitter of the two, shit-faced girls who stumbled along the pavement next to him.

“Kanroji — no, god dammit, st-op tryin’ to run,” Sanemi growled, his words a little slurred as he lunged to grab onto the pinkette’s arm as she tried yet again to take off into the night, giggling about how she wanted to run and feel free.

Mitsuri began wailing because Sanemi is a big meanie, but she shuffled along beside him in resigned obedience. Sanemi bit down on the litany of curses threatening to spill from his lips as he whipped around to lay eyes on the other girl he’d been charged with escorting safely home.

Y/N was limping along, about ten feet behind her friends, her legs quivering from exhaustion thanks to those fucking heels she’d insisted on wearing. How she’d managed to remain upright and not snap both her ankles was a mystery to Sanemi, but right then, he was annoyed and wanted nothing more than to slump home and pass out in his own bed.

“Y/N!” He barked behind him, the girl’s face blearily looking up in alarm. “March!”

“‘Nemiiii,” she whined, stumbling slightly as her balance shook. “I can’t — hiccup — go any faster.”

Sanemi ground his teeth. “Try harder.”

Y/N managed to flip him off before stumbling again. “Mitsuri’s right, you are a meanie.”

Sanemi had had it; it was nearly three in the goddamn morning, and somehow the man with the least amount of patience had been stuck with the two drunkest shitheads in his circle of friends, and those shitheads were keeping him from embracing the sweet oblivion of drunken sleep.

So, he snapped.

Hand still wrapped firmly around Mitsuri’s forearm, he stomped back to Y/N, tugging his other friend helplessly along behind him. Standing before her, Sanemi crouched and turned to glare up at his swaying best friend.

“Climb on. I ain’t arguing.” He ordered, and to her credit, Y/N complied, looping her arms across Sanemi’s sternum and locking her legs around his waist. He thinks she would have put up more of a fight had her feet not been about to fall off.

“No fair! I wanna be carried!” Mitsuri whined, tugging at his arm.

Sanemi just trudged along, relief flooding him as the girls’ tiny apartment comes into view. “You know how to walk in heels, Kanroji. She doesn’t.” He jerked his head back to the half-unconscious girl clinging to his back.

By some miracle, Sanemi and the girls finally arrived at the apartment, and Mitsuri was at least coordinated enough to fumble for her key to unlock the front door.

Once inside, Sanemi kicked the door shut behind him, and Mitsuri broke free from his hold, half-sprinting into the kitchen to chug some water.  Sanemi readjusted his grip on Y/N’s legs and moved towards her closed bedroom door, ready to dump her on her bed and go the fuck home.

“We made it!” Y/N’s sleepy voice murmured in his ear. Sanemi grunted in response, moving to deposit her on the soft down of her mattress when he felt her lurch forward on his back.

He was about to snap at her for being difficult when he felt the sloppy press of a soft pair of lips against his ear.

“Thanks, ‘Nemi.” Y/N said sleepily, falling off his back in an unceremonious heap on her bed. She sunk into the ridiculous array of pillows and blankets she insisted on piling onto her mattress.

Sanemi realized she’d been aiming for his cheek, but had missed in her drunken stupor. Nonetheless, his ear burned where her mouth had been, and he felt slightly hot under the collar of his flannel shirt.

“Drink some water so you’re not violently hungover tomorrow, idiot.” Was all he said as he moved to leave her room and finally, finally, return to his apartment.

“‘M-Kay. Love you.” Y/N slurred, and Sanemi froze. “Love my ‘Nemi. You’re my bestest friend in the world.”

Sanemi’s heart thumped wildly in his ears, though the slight lead of disappointment sunk in his gut. She loved him like a brother, of course — not as anything — as anything more than that.

Sanemi moved to exit the apartment, checking to ensure Kanroji hadn’t fallen asleep on her back, and pausing only to place a trash can next to where she was passed out on the couch. He softly closed the door behind him and began to make his way back to the apartment he shared with Kyojuro and Tengen.

Sanemi’s feet stumbled slightly on his journey as his mind reeled. His ear still burned from Y/N’s kiss, and her words echoed and clanged around in his head until he could hear nothing else.

Somehow, Sanemi ends up in his bed, sleep rapidly creeping up on him as his eyelids grow heavy. In his haze, he thought about how, despite being in a club surrounded by her friends and drunk off her ass, she’d still failed to smile even once.

As he drifted off, he thought about how empty and cold he felt now that he is no longer bearing Y/N’s warm weight on his back. Though he’d only been carrying her, she had felt indescribably good in his arms, and Sanemi cannot think of much he wouldn’t do to be touched by her again.

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

December – one week before finals.

A snowstorm had blown through their city that afternoon.

Though, perhaps “snowstorm” was too light of a description; in a matter of hours, an outright blizzard had dumped nearly three feet of snow across town and had utterly and thoroughly fucked the roads. The university had no option but to cancel classes through at least the end of the week.

Sanemi had looked forward to a night in, preferably with some video games and maybe some of his boys. It had been a long, strenuous week; truthfully, he felt like killing some virtual monsters.

It seemed, however, that his friends had other ideas as to how to spend their newly-freed evening, and of course it involved doing the exact opposite of what Sanemi had hoped to do.

He’d been in the middle of frying an egg for dinner when his phone began vibrating. He’d ignored it at first, until it nearly buzzed itself off his counter, Sanemi having to jolt to catch it in his hand before it hit the cracked linoleum of his kitchen floor.

His phone was steadily buzzing with new messages in the group chat. Swearing slightly under his breath, Sanemi unlocked his phone and scrolled up to see the message that had prompted the flurry of reactions and enthusiastic agreements from his friends.

It had started with a message from Tengen.

Quad. 20 minutes. Snow ball fight.

Sanemi groaned and responded only to tell Tengen to fuck off. But then Y/N had replied that she and the girls were on their way, and she’d called him a baby bitch for sitting out, so he’d had no choice but to bundle up in his thickest flannel and sweater and head towards the quad.

By the time Sanemi trudged his way through the shin-deep wintry sludge, a full-on war was being waged on the campus green. Though it was nearly midnight, the snow illuminated the winter wonderland around them, and Sanemi could see all his friends and a few other straggling students engaged in a fierce battle.

He scanned the quad for a sign of Y/N and spied her about 20 feet away, swathed in a thick, wool coat and hat, crouched slightly behind a tree. Beside her was a small pile of densely packed snowballs, like a stockpiled winter arsenal.

“Ya know you’re supposed to throw the snowballs, right?” Sanemi chided, sidling up to where she stood, just off the snow-covered walk of the green. She had two snowballs clutched in her gloved hands, but her eyes were fixed on someone, her tongue darting out between her lips in concentration as she calculated her next move. “Like, actually throw ‘em at people.”

Y/N tore her eyes off whatever target she’d locked onto to give him a withering glare. “I’m trying, smart-ass, to figure out the best way to hit Gyomei in the face,” she turned away from him once more, resuming her careful assessment of the tallest target on the quad, who was busy pelting the back of Giyuu’s head with scary precision.

Sanemi’s grin turned wicked. “Kinda sadistic of you to target the blind guy, isn’t it?” He goaded, bending down to scoop up and a handful of snow for himself.

Y/N whipped around at him, eyes blazing. “He’s throwing snow chunks at people, you fuckhead, and all is fair in war-“

Y/N’s rant was cut off as a well-packed sphere of snow smashed into the side of her face. She dropped the snowballs she’d been holding, her hand jumping up to her cheek in shock, as the skin beneath it stung from the icy bite of the snow.

Sanemi let out a hearty laugh. Y/N stood there, mouth gaping and dark hair plastered to the wet of her cheek, an adorable mix of both shock and indignation on her face.

Behind him, Sanemi heard Mitsuri’s tinkling, mischievous laughter.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N breathed, staring after her roommate, her eyes lighting up with a promise of swift retribution.

“Oh come on,” Sanemi laughed again at her, open and deep. “You had it coming — that’s what you get for tryna hit the blind -“

An explosion of ice and water smacked into the side of his face, soaking his hair and the collar of his jacket.

Y/N whirled to see Obanai wink at her before he took off to join Mitsuri to guard her against the onslaught flying snowballs.

Y/N turned back to Sanemi and gasped.

Obanai had not just thrown a snowball packed from the generous coating of fresh, pristine powder that covered the green; rather, he’d made a small grenade, using snow and slush gathered from the side of the road.

Gray snow dripped from the side of Sanemi’s face, soiling his cheek, and staining the cream sweater he had on beneath his jacket. Sanemi was frozen in his surprise at being caught off guard until a small, unfamiliar sound snapped him out of it.

The source of the sound made his heart drop to his stomach.

It was Y/N, who was staring up at his soiled face, watching as the black snow slid down his cheek and dripped onto the ground below him.

And she was laughing. Laughing at him.

The sound that rattled from her chest was neither a snicker nor a snort; it was a raspy, raucous cackle. Her head was tipped back slightly, as she gawked up at him, her eyes crinkled with mirth as she vaguely gestured to the smear of gray on his cheek and dissolving into another fit of giggles.

Laughter subsiding slightly, Y/N stepped forward and swiped her hand through the sludge still gathered on Sanemi’s face in a poor attempt to wipe the gray stain away. She realized it was futile though and looked instead at her now-dirtied palm in slight distaste, wiping it against the black wool of her coat.

She peered back up at him and smiled, broad and radiant.

That exhilarating smile faded, however, as Sanemi stood there, motionless, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted, shocked into silence.

“Sanemi, what-“ Y/N started, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Do it again,” Sanemi whispered, breathless. He’d not blinked or dared to do so in case he might miss it. “Smile again.”

Y/N’s eyebrows knit in confusion before softening. She’d not realized she’d even done it.

But Sanemi looked so awestruck, so desperate that she couldn’t deny him. So, she grinned broadly at him, cheeks almost burning after months of non-use, though she could not find it within herself to care.

Sanemi slowly returned the smile, pure joy illuminating his features. And they both began to laugh, without restraint, even as snowballs continued to whizz by them.

By the time the snowball fight had ended, Sanemi was soaked to the bone.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the slushy projectiles that had been lobbed with precision by the carefree college students who had gathered on the quad. His attention had been exclusively on Y/N as she pranced and ducked through the snow, smiling and laughing with abandon.

She’d been exquisite to watch.

One by one, his other friends had caught notice, had pricked their ears at the sound of an unfamiliar laugh that rang through the campus green, and turned to identify the source. As they watched Y/N run and duck and throw with that broad grin on her face, they too, had fallen still, their eyes going soft as they realized the enormity of the moment.

Because when Y/N smiled, she was a completely different person.

She looked bright, carefree, and more radiant than the sun. The resplendence of her smile made the snow look ugly and dull in comparison.

Mitsuri had watched her best friend with tears in her eyes, and Shinobu had looked close to joining her.

All the while, Sanemi had been unable to tear his eyes from her, and the warmth that he felt spread through his numb fingers and cheeks made him swear that he would do anything, anything at all, to make Y/N smile again.

—————————————————————————

Sanemi felt as though he was levitating even after he dropped Y/N off back at her apartment. He may as well have been floating on a cloud as he made his way down the hallway of the dimly lit hallway of the girls’ apartment complex, because he’d finally seen Y/N smile, had seen her laugh, and it was goddamned glorious.

Mitsuri emerged from the hall stairwell, cheeks pink and eyes bright from the evening of fun in the cold. She giggled as she saw the gray stain still on Sanemi’s face from the sludge ball he took.

“I would say ‘sorry,’ but honestly, it was pretty funny,” Mitsuri teased, nodding at his disheveled appearance. Sanemi snorted, but he couldn’t feign annoyance or irritation because he felt so damn good.

“Tell your boyfriend to watch out tonight, or else he might find his bed outside.”

Mitsuri giggled again, but then fell quiet, something more serious crossing her face.

“When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” She asked, her voice low.

Just like that, Sanemi felt as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him, as though he was crashing right back down to earth under the weight of the accusation she wanted him to answer for.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said gruffly, averting his gaze so he did not have to meet Mitsuri’s knowing stare.

Sanemi knew Mitsuri could see right through his bullshit — could tell by the way she huffed at him and could see it out of his periphery in how her head was cocked at him. He looked back at her and nearly recoiled at the vast pity swimming in her jade eyes.

“Fuck, Mitsuri,” he groaned, leaning against the hall wall and letting his head fall back against it with a thud. He ran a hand over his exhausted face, and slightly resented the fact his friend had always been so discerning in the affairs of the heart.

“I can’t put that kind of pressure on her,” Sanemi admitted quietly after a long moment, arm falling back down to his side, limp.

Mitsuri had been right, of course, he was in love with Y/N. He’d suspected it for a while, but seeing her radiant smile that night only confirmed that the persistent twisting he had felt in his heart over the last few months had been more than mere longing. 

But Sanemi also knew he’d long been toeing a line that he can’t cross.

“If things between us went south, what then?” Sanemi continued, “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’ll feel like she’s the one who has to leave, and I-“ Sanemi hesitated, shaking his head. A lump formed in his throat, threatening to suffocate the emotions that have been fighting to break free from his heart. 

“It would be fuckin’ selfish of me to take that from her after she’s tried so hard to build herself a support network. I can’t do that to her, ‘Suri.”

The pink-haired woman sighed and joined him as he leaned against the wall, the two staring off into the empty space before them.

“She is a part of our group, that’s true,” Mitsuri agreed, though contemplative. “But you, Sanemi, have been the biggest source of comfort for her.”

Sanemi scoffed. “Well, that’s what best friends are s’pposed to do.”

Mitsuri shook her head, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “No, I’m her best friend,” she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “You though… you’re different. And I think she knows that, too.”

She kicked off the wall, and made her way towards her apartment door, pausing just as she reaches for the knob.

“After all, you’re the one she smiled for.”

Mitsuri and all her pink disappeared into her apartment, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Sanemi remained against the wall for a while longer, his head and his heart a tangled web of hope and doubt.

The walk back to his place is solitary, and so Sanemi tried to sort through the snarled brambles of his mind. As he shuffled through the winter landscape, Sanemi thought that he’d never fully appreciated the snow before. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful snow-capped conifers looked, branches heavy with the sparkling ice; hadn’t realized how beautifully quiet the world could be when blanketed beneath a thick coat of white.

He thought about how Y/N looked standing amidst the chaos of the snowball fight, cheeks flushed with the cold and her own adrenaline, a smile as wide and bright plastered on her face. He basked in the warm echoes of her laughter as she lobbed yet another snowball at the back of Mitsuri’s head, squealing in delight when her friend returned her attack tenfold.

And Sanemi thinks that the snow wasn’t so bad after all.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Stick around for part 2 if you want to find out if Sanemi will finally confess (and how he’ll likely screw it up 😉)

[sp-by-april]

TWINN, IM BACKK‼️‼️

Ykw makes me feral? Hmo, Nerdy Kyle with a Popular girl who’s actually a succubus. Just teasing him, appearing in his dreams, and waiting for the right moment to strike, but then Kyle gets inpatient in the library and then she ends up riding him on the floor behind the Librarian’s desk so they don’t get caught. And his nails are just digging into the flesh of her hips, muttering the dirtiest of praises as she just feeds off of him🙏🏾🙏🏾

(srry if requests are closed i didn’t find anything on it😓😓)

This was so fun omg!! Thank you!

POV!Kyle x Succubus!F!Reader

[Send me a prompt that makes you FERAL] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

I thought that I really lucked out when we got together. Sometimes I would look at you and wonder how someone like you would even notice me. You were so fucking hot and everyone loved you. Your popularity is undeniable. I’m fine looking, I guess? Obviously, there’s stuff I’m insecure about but everyone knew how out of my league you are.

When we first got together, you used to tease the fuck out of me. Everything you said had some suggestive double meaning and you’d find a million ways to “accidentally” touch my dick or push your chest against me. It drove me crazy.

Then I started to have dreams about you. You’d be naked in my bed waiting for me. Sometimes you’d already be touching yourself, but you said the same thing every time.

In a breathy whisper, you always said, “Please, Kyle, I need to feel you. You can do anything you want to me,”

I’ve dreamt about it so much that the soundbite is burned into my brain.

Then we were doing homework in the library. You looked so fucking hot that it was distracting. I would wonder if you knew what you did to me. I was trying to just to ignore how hard you made me and get our work done. You were trying to get out of it and leave early.

You leaned in and put your mouth to my ear, “Please, Kyle? You can do anything you want to me,”

It was like a switch flipped in my brain.

I was already fucking hard but when you said that I throbbed so bad I almost blacked out. I’d been waiting to bring up having sex but I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have you. Immediately.

I put my hand on your thigh and put my ear to yours, “Do you really mean that?”

You smiled and my cock twitched, “Yeah,”

“Fuck me,” I slid my hand up your skirt and my breath hitched as my fingers touched your naked slit, “Right now,”

I couldn't wait. Especially knowing you had no panties on.

You looked a little surprised. I was sure you’d turn me down. You kissed me instead.

I grabbed your hand, and we left our books, our notes and everything else behind.

We looked for a suitable place to fuck and ruled out a lot when we found the perfect spot.

I leaned down to your ear, “There. Behind the desk. She just went downstairs with Jimmy to check the archives. It’ll take at least an hour,”

Plenty of time considering that half the time we were together I wanted to come just from looking at you.

We sat on the ground, making out a little bit then you pushed me down on my back and climbed on top of me. You kissed me and our tongues rolled over each other as you unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. I raised my hips and you rocked forward a little as you pushed my pants down far enough to finally get my dick out. It felt so good when you stroked me, somehow you knew exactly what felt good. I was wet with precum and not brag or anything, but I do know that while I might lack things in other areas, I have a good cock.

Neither of us could take it anymore and you fucking finally sank down onto me. I grabbed onto your hips right away. Squeezing inside of you for the first time was so fucking intense. You felt so warm. Wet. Soft. I’m no virgin or anything, but fuck, I’ve never had anyone feel as good as you do.

Then your hips finally started to move. Watching you ride me was… intoxicating. Seeing you take pleasure from me turned me on more than anything.

Then you kissed me again.

One of my hands stayed glued to to your hip, but I used the other to grab a handful of your hair. I didn’t want you to move away.

I broke our kiss and put my mouth to your ear, “You have no idea how good you feel,”

I could hear your little whines and whimpers and I could barely stand it.

“Fuck, I love the way you look on top of me,” My fingernails started to dig into the fat of your hip, but you didn’t seem to care, “You’re lucky we’re here. Next time I’m really gonna fuck you. I want to hear you get loud,”

You arched your back and fuck, the way you felt inside was so intense. I knew I was close to the point of no return. The pressure was so intense and every muscle in my lower half was so fucking tight.

It didn’t help that the only thing I could think about was how good it would feel to fill you with cum.

Then you said the only thing I wanted to hear, “Kyle – I think I’m gonna come,”

I groaned low in your ear, “Then fucking come for me,”

I kissed you again. Hard. My mouth locked right onto yours and our tongues did what they do best. Your back arched again and I could feel your body tense up over me. Your soft, silky wall fastened up around me and gripped my cock so tight, I’d never felt anything like it.

You set me off.

My hips bucked up into you, sorry, I couldn’t help it. My eyes rolled back and I saw stars. All the pressure that built up finally erupted and my cock pulsed so fucking intensely as I pumped you full of spurt after hot, sticky spurt.

It was the best sex I ever had. I felt drained for days afterward. I was exhausted. I had some brain fog, even. People even noticed how off I was, but I didn’t really care.

Either way, I can’t fucking wait to do it again.

[elliebarker]

you are absolutely insane. + ( e. williams )

category: lifeguard!ellie x competitive swimmer!female!reader oneshot

summary: since your school’s swim season has been let out you convince yourself to get off your couch and go to your local rec-center to get some practice in. ellie has just moved into an off-campus apartment and needs to get a night job in order to keep up with her rent. 

warnings: suggestive, implied smut, use of the word “baby”, mentions of alcohol usage, overall cringy

word count: 2.7k

author's note: as 68..1% of you requested,

“just…just give me a couple more weeks man.” ellie pinched the space in between her brows, very obviously annoyed.

“i’m not doing this again ellie,” a robotic voice came from the speaker of her phone, “i can’t keep covering for you. get a fucking job.”

“but– i’m in class all day! when the hell am i supposed to work?” ellie barked into her phone, dreading the noise complaints she’d get from her neighbors. maybe the size of her apartment was a glow-up from her dorm, but the people living around her sure weren’t. 

“i- i don’t fucking know. drop a class or something? work at night?”

that conversation is how she landed here. clocking in at 6 at a rec center not too far from campus to sit and watch senior citizens go back and forth in a pool and hope they don’t drown so she doesn’t actually have to do her job. decked out in red and white ellie propped herself up onto the towering “LIFEGUARD” chair and watched each of the seconds pass on the big red digital clock displayed on the wall. little did she know today was the day she’d meet you.

you walked, well, rather you were being pulled into the pool by your friend olivia. you guys had been on your school’s swim team together and after mopping around your dorm for almost 2 weeks after your final meet she decided you, and a couple other girls from the team, would meet up at the pool a couple days after school and just, “have fun,” as she had called it. and you decided to go along with it, you could use the excuse to get out of the house once in a while without getting absolutely hammered. you served the area of the pool: a couple lanes taken up, a brunette lifeguard scooping out the newcomers (you and your friends), a bunch of lockers scattering the west wall, holy shit that lifeguard was hot. 

you immediately turned your head back to take in the entirety of the brunette lifeguard, freckled and blush-dusted face with a set of emerald eyes. you noticed a crooked name tag that read “ellie'' before hearing your name being called by our team mates.

“coming!” you called to your friends and jogged over to grab your stuff before heading to lane 6 (the one closest to ellie) next to ashley and began your workout.

ellie was flabbergasted, astonished, she touched god. never in all her years of living had she been so…drawn…to a girl. okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic, but by the moon and the earth you were gorgeous. the way your hair fell on your shoulders, the way your smile shines in the echo-y pool’s fluorescent lights, the way your eyes lingered on her for the right amount of time. she was shamelessly gawking at you. i mean– she had too. it was her job!!! nevermind the lame-o senior citizens in lane 2 that were statistically more likely to drown…she just had to look at the way your arms cut through the water.

the hours lingered on, and to your surprise you had no idea what a couple weeks off would do to you. you were practically panting after each 100. and, obviously, olivia and ashley had finished before you.

“go home,” you said, “i’ve just got a cool down left.” your friends agreed and you turned around to face the flags again. a loud clash, the doors closing, made itself noted behind you before you began the last part of your set.

then, finally, after many flip turns and a few glances at the rec’s lifeguard you were done. you pulled your cap off and slipped out of the pool, gathering all your stuff and heading back. after you finished drying yourself off you looked back at the pool, all the lane lines stripped, holy fuck that was fast to see ellie rolling a cart of flippers back into the storage closet. 

“haven’t seen you around here before,” she smiled. ellie was walking toward you as you finished stuffing your (still soaking) kick-board in your bag.

“my school season is out so i’m just practicing here, when my schedule allows me, before short course starts up again.” you explain, tucking your hair behind your ear. and then realizing how fucking dorky and cheesy it was and how you totally embarrassed yourself in front of your very hot lifeguard.

“cool, cool, cool, cool” you hear her answer, and you could swear you felt her eyes scanning you. you finished zipping up your bag, its ziiip echoing throughout the large and empty pool, having been deserted by all your teammates. wait. all your teammates? like- even your-ride-home-olivia was gone. 

“shit.” you muttered.

“huh? oh, sorry!” ellie stuttered out, realizing how stupid and awkward and probably unprofessional her talking to you was. UGH! I’M SO STUPID she mentally slapped herself convincing herself that it was just her delusion that had pictured up any image of you actually acknowledging her existence.

“no–no, it's not,” you began, “i lost my ride– i– my ride left, i’m…stranded.”

“oh.”

“yeah,” you nervously chuckled

“i mean, this sounds weird, but,” she said, “i could drive you?”

“getting into a stranger's car late at night…” you questioned, like you were pondering it, “why not?”

“okay don’t put it like that,” she giggled.

“nah, man. that would actually be a lifesaver! and i’ve seen you around campus, you don’t give me any reason to suspect you’d axe murder me so…”

“alright,” she smirked, grabbing her keys from the knob of the storage closet door and heading out the door, with you not far behind.

you don’t know how it happened but what was going to a quick drop off at your place from your rec-center’s lifeguard turned into a dance party and the two of you screaming lyrics and hollering out of her window, having the time of your lives. earlier that night, when you first got in the car, ellie figured to blur any awkward silence she’d hand you the aux. turns out, you both had crazy similar music tastes and after that you guys clicked instantly. you were having so much fun and that's why when the bright familiar lights of home appeared in the rear-view mirror you kind of wished you lived somewhere else, farther away.

“thanks, again,” you looked at ellie.

“anytime,” she said, smiling at you. with regret that you didn’t say anything else you closed the car door and walked over to your front door and spent that whole night thinking over her.

unbeknownst to you, ellie would be thinking about you too, not only thinking about you but talking about you to the one person who would always lend an ear to all her girl problems: dina.

“she’s just so” “so what ellie? i need details.”

“pretty? beautiful? gorgeous? perfect?”

“did you at least get her number?”

“oh.”

“oh what ellie? oh my god you dumba–” her NUMBER! ellie thought of course! duh! i’m. so. stupid!!! 

that was her next mission. get your number, your instagram, your anything, hold onto anything to be able to get to know you better. luckily for her, it wasn’t that hard, your visit to the rec-center had not been a one-time thing, in fact you and your teammates had begun a routine. and ellie drank up every glance she got at you. she had gone over and over different scenarios in which she’d ask for your number, “if you ever need a ride again,” “thought you could use this,” and after surveying that they were all equally cringy and accepting the fact she’d never have the same confidence as she did the day she met you she realized, she didn’t have to get your number, she could just give you hers. so, it was a nice surprise to see a little yellow slip, a post-it note, atop your bag adorned with her number and a little “ellie :)” as soon as you were home, showered, and ready for bed you opened your phone, sending a quick, “hey!” and introducing yourself before plugging in your phone and dozing off. ellie would deny it to anyone she knew but she totally responded immediately after you texted her and were, to say the least, disappointed when you didn’t text back after 10 minutes, half an hour, 2 hours. ellie decided to not let her stupid crush affect her and let sleep consume her. needless to say, when she woke up to see a “new message” notification she nearly leapt out of bed.

after the whole olivia-leaving-you-alone situation ellie had offered to drive you home from practice and who wouldn’t take her up on that offer? not to mention that driving home with her was fucking awesome. you got to play anything you wanted on aux and she would always get food with you. it was like meeting your soulmate, you guys had almost everything in common you could talk about whatever you wanted. she was the yin to your yang. whatever foods or things disgusted you, she loved, and she would be happy to take them off your hands. there was no awkward stage, you guys were practically meant for each other.

it had been barely a month yet every time you walked into your rec-center you were greeted with the yelling of your name and ellie sloppily climbing off her lifeguard chair to come up and hug you. you had met dina and jesse, ellie’s best friends, and ellie had met yours. it seems that nearly every waking moment of your day was spent in her company, not that you were complaining. you were sitting on ellie’s bed while she was scrolling on her phone on the floor, back propped up against her bed’s frame.

“hey,” she began, “dina’s inviting me to a party, wanna go?” she asked, turning her head to look at you.

“sure, why not?”

“sick,” she smiled and turned back to her phone, texting back dina, you assumed. a couple hours passed and you were in the bathroom, adjusting your outfit and making sure everything looked good. ellie stepped into the door frame, keys giggling on her fingers.

“ready to go?” she asked, smirking at you. you nodded and followed her out the front door.

noise was blaring and people clambered all around some kid’s dorm. to say the party was full of life was an understatement. you and ellie made your way over to the party’s make-shift bar and poured yourself a cup of your designated drinks. you didn’t have to do much looking to find dina, who was dancing in the middle of the living room. she immediately spotted you guys, deserting the group of girls she was hanging out with, and ran over to you.

“hey guys!” she greeted. lets just say whatever-the-fuck you were drinking worked, fast, because next thing you knew you were dancing, laughing, and joking about things you never would sober. so was ellie. so much so, you don’t know how much time had passed, but you were having the time of your life on the dance floor with some random feel-good song in the background. and ellie pressed up against your back. and you sure as hell weren’t complaining.

you turned around and wrapped your arms around her neck and continued to dance (grind) into her lap. and somewhere though your drunken haze her arms were on your arms, hips, totally feeling you up. and then her lips were alternating between yours and your neck. you both stumbled from the middle of the dance floor, lips still connected, to some wall off to the side. from then on, ellie got more adventurous, for lack of a better word. hands moving every ten seconds. they were cupping your face, then your tits, hips, ass, and then your face again. you couldn’t say you weren’t, either, hands went from delicately perched on her shoulders to the back of her head to desperately grasping for handfuls of her hair. the two of you barely came up for air until–

“let’s move this,” she practically panted, “somewhere else,” pulling you in the nearest unoccupied room. and as suddenly as her hands and lips had left you, they were back on you again. she began wondering again, this time however, her hand pulled at your waistband, waiting for you to nod or acknowledge what she was trying to do. it was you who parted your guys’ lips this time.

“you.” you began, making sure to catch your breath, “are absolutely,” you continued, “insane,” you finally huffed out, before smashing your lips back together and pulling your own hands at your waistband.

(fade to black bc i can’t write smuttttttt)

ellie woke up, groaning, with an awful headache. then, when she finally regained consciousness, she surveyed the room she was in. definitely not hers. her clothes, party clothes, were scattered on the floor and the only thing that remained was her black sports bra. she didn’t even realize there was another living human being next to her until she felt the cool breeze of your peaceful sleepy breath. you were lying next to her, presumably naked under the covers. your hair was messy and knotted and taking up all of the pillow and your makeup had worn off. and you were utterly gorgeous. ellie couldn’t help but smile. bask in the moment. the little time she had left to admire before she realized you were literally sitting next to her, unconscious and topless.

“fuck.” that's all she said. that's all she could say. she was so ready to run, let her flight kick in. and she would’ve, had you not wrapped your arms around her and pulled her back down. you, unconsciously (totally), rested your head in between her shoulder and neck and sighed. yeah ellie thought i could get used to this. 

shoes squeaked and whistles blew. eveything was hectic. you were just trying to get into meet-mentality when a familiar, comforting, voice came from behind you.

“hey baby,” ellie, your girlfriend of 2 months, came up and hugged you. “came to wish you good luck,” she smiled as you turned to face her, catching a glimpse of dina and jesse waving from the corner of your eye.

“aww,” you leaned up to kiss her, “that's so sweet! thank you ellie. and i love you, but, i have to go warm up i’ll be right back.” you said.

“yeah, yeah, babe, don’t let me hold you back.” ellie chuckled and went back to find her seat next to jesse and dina. a couple hours had passed and your first event was coming up shortly. you stretched and made your way over to the blocks. and as soon as the microphone sounded, you were off, you were trying your absolute hardest. and it definitely paid off. when you looked up at the scoreboard next to your lane you checked your time. and you shaved 8 whole seconds. you could barely contain your excitement. once you were out of the water you ran to hug ellie, not caring if you got her wet. (in more ways than one iykwim lol) (im sorry) (that was uncalled for) 

“i’m so sorry baby,” ellie said.

“huh?”

“your 200? you added like, a minute.”

“what?” you were so utterly confused, “oh my god! no,” you laughed in realization, “ellie, that was my 100. it's long course season. i didn’t add anything, i literally went 8 seconds faster!”

“ohh!” ellie said, nodding, pretending she understood anything you just said but congratulated you anyway.

and for being a lifeguard, your girlfriend was a shit swimmer.

“how the fuck did you even get this job.”

“shut up.” ellie was only halfway in, red “LIFEGUARD” swimsuit and trunks on, and she was already turning a ghostly white. “i can… function… in the water perfectly fine.” she said, trying not to chatter her teeth. you reached for her hand to pull her into you.

“your hands are literally purple.”

“well maybe your just super-human and can’t feel how f-fucking cold it is.” that night after you guys drove home ellie was cuddled up by the fireplace, a little cold already forming. you had just exited your after-practice hot shower and were nice and cozy, there was just one thing– person– you were missing. you laid down facing ellie and snuggled up to her. it was the mundane nights like this that were the ones worth living for.

[sokoviansimp]

The Package

✒  Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Child!Reader (platonic)

✒  Tags & Warnings: child taken by hydra, neglect

-lmk if im missing any

✒ A/N : I’m planning for this to be a series :) I’m open to requests or suggestions for other parts

✒ Summary: The team is sent off to retrieve a dangerous package from Hydra, instead they find a child. 

✒ Word Count: 3373

Masterlist | The Package AU | Part 2

“If all goes to plan, this should be textbook stuff,” Steve explained to the team waiting to unload from the Quinjet, “we get in, get the package, and then get out. Understood?” The team consisting of Wanda, Tony, Clint, and Nat all nodded on queue.

At that point, they felt the landing gear make contact with the ground just a couple miles out from the Hydra base they planned to invade. The exit door began to lift and they all filed out of the vehicle to get into position. Wanda and Tony took to the sky for surveillance while the other 3 followed behind on 2 motorcycles.

The plan was to be as discrete as they could for as long as possible. They knew it wouldn’t be a stealth mission, but to draw the least amount of attention until they had the package was ideal. 

Wanda took out the guards at the gate before they could trigger an alarm while Tony blasted the surveillance cameras. The ground team was free to move into the base, all was going according to plan. It didn’t take long for them to draw attention to themselves once they infiltrated the entrance. The opposing team sprung into action, sending as many goons as they could to slow down the invasion long enough to escape with what they needed most from a helicopter on the roof. 

Tony saw the blades of the helicopter slowly start to spin as they warmed up and quickly blasted them off with his repulser to prevent them from leaving. Quickly making his way to the helicopter to retrieve the package, that he assumed they were trying to escape with. 

“Oh, no you don’t” he quipped toward the scientists as he took them out and snatched their briefcase. 

“Steve, I’ve got the briefcase, time to boogie,” Tony exclaimed over the comms. 

“Briefcase?” Steve repeated, confused. 

“Yea, in my hand. Let’s go,”

“The package won’t fit in a briefcase, Tony.” Steve rebutted, “Does it say HS12?” 

The briefcase was silver and had no distinct markings on it other than the hydra symbol at the top adorning the combination lock, “er- no, but they were trying to leave with it so I just-” 

“Keep looking Stark” Steve commanded. 

Going through the same doors that the scientists came through on the roof, Wanda went in to search the building for the real package they were after. The only thing she knew about it, is that it’s labeled HS12 and it’s extremely dangerous. Making her way through the dimly lit halls of the base, she saw weapon labs labeled with a W and corresponding numbers. Initially, she went into one hoping to find what she was looking for but everything in the room began with a W so she knew she was likely far off from her target. 

Coming up empty handed she decided to ask for help. The room that she went into initially was empty, so she found one that wasn’t, “Excuse me?” she said with feigned innocence, “I’m looking for something specific, can one of you help me?” 

The scientists tried to scurry away knowing exactly who they were speaking with. Wanda Maximoff was spoken about widely throughout Hydra, she was one of their greatest successes after all. With little effort; Wanda trapped the men in the room with her, locking the doors shut with her magic, “HS12, Where can I find it?” Wanda sternly queried, she hated being back in the house of hydra after being experimented on by the same people just a couple of years prior. Reminding herself that she was a misinformed volunteer helped quell the hatred she held for them in her soul. Some of these people may be of the same fate, thinking they're changing the world for the better, only to be helping the wrong team. Or even worse, some of these people may not even have a choice in the matter at all. Doing work to protect a loved one from threats of torture or even death. 

As silence stained the room, she decided to give her audience some incentive to answer. Using her magic, she lifted the scientist with the most badges displayed on his lab coat up into the air. Judging by the badges, he’s likely been there a while, meaning he should have the information she’s seeking. While in her grasp, the red wisps moved up to his throat as they squeezed into each other, cutting off his oxygen supply, “I won’t ask again”

Merely seconds later, the scientist was already squirming, “th-” he tried to gasp out, Wanda loosened her hold on his throat just enough for him to speak the answer, “third fl- floor” he squealed out; desperate for air, and scared for his life. Wanda wasted no time, abruptly dropping the scientist to the linoleum tile that sat below him as she turned to head for the staircase. 

The entrance to the third floor from the stairwell was locked, needing a keycard for entry. The door read Authorized Personnel Only in bold red letters. This didn’t do anything to stop Wanda, as she blasted her magic through the door swinging it open. Similarly to the rooms on the upper floor, each one was labeled with HS and a corresponding number. The first door to her left reads HS37, so she continues down the hall to look for 12. The first chunk of rooms are empty, it isn’t until she gets down around 15 that she realizes they aren’t weapon rooms, they’re cells. Then it clicks; HS = Human Subject.

Her heartbeat picks up as her mind starts to conjure images of what type of monster could be waiting for her behind the door. Whatever it is, whoever it is, she’s sure she can handle it, in fact, she’s slightly relieved that she’s the one to find it because she’s probably best suited out of the current team to face a dangerous creature. With only a few doors between 15 and 12, she arrives quicker than her mind can prepare, so she stands there for a couple of seconds, inhaling deeply before blasting the locked door with her magic. 

As she enters, the building starts to tremble, shockwaves radiating from the room. She’s met with quite the opposite of what she was expecting, a small child scurrying to huddle into a fetal position in the corner of the room terrified of the stranger that just entered. Most of the time, people visiting your cell were unwelcomed, but at least they were familiar. Their visits often resulted in needles being poked into your arms which made you dread the sound of the hinges on the door. 

Wanda’s features immediately softened in an attempt to calm you, “Hi there, it’s ok malyshka, I’m not going to hurt you,” she gently assured 

You nuzzled your head deeper into your legs seeking any comfort you could get as tears threaten to spill from your eyelids. 

“Steve, you didn’t tell us HS12 is a child,” Wanda said angrily over the comms to the super soldier. 

“A what?!” Natasha chimed in confused

The increase of Wanda’s voice jarred your nerves even more, and it was noticeable by the way the shake of the building picked up. 

“Wanda, what’s your location?” Steve queried

“Third floor.”

“Stay there, we’re coming. Be careful, she’s dangerous.” Steve warned

Deciding not to heed Steve’s comment, Wanda continued on with her attempt to calm you down, “Shh, it’s ok. What’s your name?”

“y-y/n” you squeaked out

“Y/N, such a pretty name. I’m Wanda,”

“Wan-da?” you tested the name on your tongue, still unsure about the woman standing before you. 

“Yes!” she exclaimed excitedly, “I’m here to help you,” she conveyed with a genuine smile. Her brows raised slightly as she spoke.

“No poke?” you whimpered, wanting to trust Wanda because she felt motherly but still reluctant.

“No, no poke.” she reached for you, “come on.”

You hesitantly took her hand as you stood on grounded feet beneath you, “where we go?”

“Home,” Wanda assured

Confused, you furrowed your brows and looked at the redhead, “I no have home”

Hearing you utter the words broke her heart, not only the fact that it may be true, but it was the way you knew it to be true that left her heart in little pieces, “That’s going to change, dorogoy.” 

“No, no leave,” you shook your head side to side as you removed your hand from hers and backed up until you made contact with the wall, “I be good, no ouchies,” you stated, worrying what they would do to you if they caught you trying to leave. 

Wanda kneeled down to your level, “no one will hurt you, ill make sure of it.”

Within a couple of seconds, the rest of the team arrived at your doorway. Seeing Steve and Clint in the doorway was enough to send your nerves into overload. Men, in general, scared you, everyone that you recalled causing you harm had always been male so you were much less likely to trust them. Their suits and weapons only helped to give you more anxiety that they were there to cause you pain, “NO! PLEASE!” you screamed as sounds of stray items hitting the floor echoed through the hallways.

“Wanda, we have to get her out of here” Steve stated in a stoic tone 

“Y/N, I need you to calm down for me, can you do that? Look at me,” she said trying her best to diffuse the situation without subduing you. 

All you wanted to do was cry out for your mama, you wanted to be held and told it will all be ok but you knew that wasn’t an option. You lost your mother and she’s never coming back, no one was coming to help ease your emotions, you’re all on your own and you only have yourself to protect you.  

At that moment, a crack bellowed through the ceiling causing a chunk to fall above your head. Without a second thought, Clint drew an arrow from his quiver and shot straight through the debris, breaking it into smaller pieces in an effort to protect you. From your point of view, you saw a man draw an arrow on you and miss just above your head, who knows what he’d do next? 

The action, in an involuntary attempt to protect yourself, caused shockwaves to erupt from your tiny form as you squealed and folded in on yourself. The building had already started crumbling, but this was the final straw that rained trauma on every support in the structure.

With the building on the verge of swallowing you all whole and Wanda’s attempts to calm you falling short, she knew she had to stop you, for your own safety. The crimson tendrils of magic flew out from her fingers to seep directly into your mind, quelling your thoughts instantly and leaving you in restful sleep. The building stopped shaking the second you were out, some damage remained but the structure was still standing. As your legs gave out underneath you, Wanda was there to catch you from the impending floor and bring you straight into her arms, holding you tightly. 

Wanda held you in her arms the entire flight. How could someone do this to such an innocent child, she thought. A part of her felt guilty for ever being a part of an organization that would go to such great lengths. You were sleeping, but the dreams swirling around in your head were far from quiet. To be truthful, being asleep was one of your favorite things, you were free to explore your own imagination in 4 dimensions instead of being confined to the cell the Hydra held you captive in. 

Natasha, knowing how hard this must be for Wanda, made her way over to sit next to the Sokovian. She placed a reassuring hand on Wanda’s thigh to show her that she’s there for her while Wanda zoned out, deep in thought. 

“She’s lucky you found her,” Natasha gently stated.

“I just, I don’t understand how someone could hurt her,” Wanda sighed, “To look into that little face and lock her in a cell,” her bottom lip quivered as tears threatened to spill over but she held them back. 

“I know, but now we can make sure no one ever hurts her again,” Nat offered. 

Wanda pulled her lips together and lifted her cheeks slightly to form a neutral expression of acknowledgment. After a beat of silence, Natasha wrapped her left arm around the redhead. Wanda melted into the Russian next to her, allowing her head to lean back onto her chest, “I’m not giving her up to Fury,” Wanda whispered. 

“I know.”

When the team lands, they immediately bring you to the medbay and Tony gets to work on an inhibitor for your powers. They gather a little blood so they can run tests and the only reason Wanda even lets them is that you're asleep and won’t be bothered. Once they've released you from the medical unit, Wanda takes you to her room to get cleaned up. 

“Don’t get too attached, Maximoff. We have to give her to Fury,” Steve called out as Wanda ignored him and made her way up the stairs with you. 

She gently lays you on the bed as she leaves to start running the bath water. As the water fills, she returns to your side and begins to shake you gently. The redhead was nervous to wake you before Tony finished the inhibitor, but she was confident that she could soothe you enough for a bath, “Y/N” she hummed to your laying figure on the bed, as you began to stir awake, “wake up, malyshka, it’s tubby time” 

The words rang into your ears, and in your waking stupor, you imagined you were back in your home with your mother. You stretched your arms above your head before opening your eyes to the sight of a smiling redhead looming above you. The same one from your cell, she told you her name, what was it? Oh right!

“Wana” you blurted

“Yes! Wanda,” the sokovian punctuated the d in her name that you had missed, “Come little one, let’s get you all cleaned up,” she said taking you in her arms and bringing you both into the bathroom. 

To her surprise, you had no negative reaction to waking up in a completely different environment. You felt safe with Wanda, and the room you were in was so much nicer than the cell you had been confined to that you didn’t see a reason to be scared. 

“Where are we?” you questioned, knowing you were no longer at the Hydra base, or at least nowhere that you had ever seen. 

“We are at the Avengers Compound,” Wanda explained, “This is my bedroom,” she continued as she took your clothes off, plopping them in the laundry bin and getting you settled into the tub. 

“A-bengers?” 

“Yes, have you heard of them before, Y/N?” Wanda wondered how much you knew

“No, neber”

“Well, the Avengers are superheroes, they save people.”

You let the words sink in as Wanda lathered soap into a cloth, “Abengers saved me?” you tried putting the pieces together. 

“We did,” Wanda began, rubbing the soft soap-filled cloth along your shoulders, “and no one will ever hurt you again.” Your gaze traveled upward to meet hers as a small smile crept onto your face. 

The feeling of being in a bath again made you so happy. The last time you had a bath, you were with your mother. Just being in the tub again brought back feelings of comfort. Wanda took her time to be gentle with you as she knew it was going to be a long bath. You had so much grime build-up in your hair from being neglected in a cell that she wasn’t sure if it would be best to just cut it off. Even though you needed extreme cleaning, she didn’t want to overwhelm you on your first day either. As long as she could get you clean enough to feel comfortable she would accept it for the time being. 

You continue to learn more about the avengers throughout your bath as you asked Wanda lots of questions. Your personality was finally getting to show itself, after almost a year of being buried.

“Friday, can you ask Nat to bring Y/Ns clothes upstairs?” Wanda called out to the AI intercom, “Sure thing, Ms. Maximoff!” it quickly notated.

Your eyes widened and your face lifted at the robot's voice, “Who’s dat?” you pointed in the air to try and pinpoint the direction of the voice

“That is Friday, she’s like uh- a robot assistant”

It doesn’t take long for Natasha to arrive with your clothes, “How’d it go?” she asks peering into the bathroom before walking in. 

“It went great! Y/N did so well!” she says beaming you with the brightest smile. The two girls get you dressed and bring you back into the bedroom. 

“She's a weapon and she needs to be handed over to the right people.” the three of you overheard Steve’s take on your custody as you entered the common room in Wanda’s arms. The redhead felt your body tense up as soon as the other Avengers came into view, “it’s ok malyshka, no one will hurt you here” she whispered toward you in an attempt to calm the anxiety that she knew was brewing within you. You nuzzled into her neck in response, feeling safe in her hold. 

“She’s not a weapon, she’s a child,” Natasha cut into Steve’s conversation with Tony, better her than Wanda for Steve’s sake, “have some compassion, Rogers”

“-with unchecked powers that could destroy this planet” Steve added, 

“So we keep them in check,” Nat stated without hesitation. 

“You’re not seriously considering keeping her here?” Steve shifted his weight to turn his attention to Natasha. 

“Why not? It’s the perfect place for her to learn how to control her powers.” A wave of relief washed over Wanda to see that she wasn’t the only one wanting to keep you around. 

“Because we aren’t running a daycare” Steve doesn’t let up, “She needs to be handed over to Fury.”

“Yea, well Wanda and I both know what it’s like to be experimented on at a young age, it’s not something you just get over. We have a real chance to give her a better life, teach her how to control her gifts, and make sure no one ever hurts her again.” 

“She’s staying here, and if Fury has an issue with that, he can come find me.” Wanda snarls as she walks through the common room with you toward the theatre.

Wanda sat you down in one of the La-Z-Boy chairs in the front row as she set up the movie, “any requests, malyshka?” wanda offered as she scrolled through some options on the screen

Your face lit up at the sight of the golden dog, “Doggy!” you exclaim with an outstretched arm towards the screen.

Your reaction causes a chuckle from Wanda, “Dug Days it is.” She smiled as she started the first episode.

The show had you on the edge of your seat, excited about what shenanigans the dog would be up to. It felt so good for you to finally be able to act like a kid again. You couldn’t help the thoughts swirling in the back of your brain of going back to the bad place. Before Wanda had a chance to start the next episode, you blurted out, ”Dey want me to leave?”

“What?”

“Da man, is he gonna make me leave?” you meet her gaze with doe wide eyes.

“No sweetie, this is your home now.” she gently assured you as she rubbed your back.

“Really? Home?” you tested the word once more now that it had real meaning to you. 

“Yes, come here” Wanda lifted the armrest that separated the two of you and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder allowing you to snuggle into her side as she clicked play on the next episode.

[allieisacrybaby]

Summer Nights Like This

Julien Baker x Fem!Reader

no warnings, just pure summery Julien Baker fluff :)

The sun slowly descended across the horizon, the birds chirped happily, and the breeze blew cooly across your face, carrying the smell of freshly mown grass and citronella. It was the perfect summer evening. You were perched on the back porch bed swing in your Nashville home that you shared with your partner Julien. You were reading your book in utter bliss when the sound of the sliding glass door opening and closing redirected your attention from the fantasy in your hands to the woman approaching you. 

“Hey punk, how’s your book?” Julien asked, cozying up on the bed swing next to you. Sticking your finger in the book to not lose your place and reply,

“So far, so good. I’ve made quite the dent in it today.”

“That’s awesome.” she smiles, but her eyes tell a different story. 

“What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you much today.” you ask. JB sighs, slumping her shoulders forward. That was your cue. You find your bookmark, stick it between the pages, and tuck it next to you, giving her your undivided attention. JB sees your shift in awareness and pulls your dangling legs from the edge of the bed swing and into her lap, getting extra comfortable. Once she’s situated, she begins,

“I have this vision, but I just can’t seem to recreate it. I can hear it so clearly in my head, but I just can’t find a way to put it into reality. I’ve spent all day mixing different instruments and chords together, and I just cannot get it right for the life of me. It’s been absolutely exhausting and frustrating.”

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t imagine how frustrating that must be. How about you call it a day and spend the rest of the evening out here with me? We can put on some music, make dinner, and sit out here and enjoy this beautiful summer evening. How does that sound?” you suggest. 

“Really? Princess, that would be amazing.” JB smiles, you can see her body relax, and she gives you that big ‘ole cheesy grin.

“Of course! Ok, here’s the game plan. You’ll connect to the Bluetooth speakers out here and play whatever you want and just relax, and I’ll get to work making dinner inside. Oh! Do you have any requests for dinner? We have a lot of stuff because we went grocery shopping yesterday, so I can whip up whatever you want.” 

“I could really go for some pesto pasta.” she sheepishly responds.

“Coming right up!” you grin, popping up from your spot on the swing. Before you can get far, Jay grabs your wrist and pulls you down for a kiss. It’s sweet, tender, and warm, just like her. You blush deeply and scurry off to get dinner started. 

*****

Entranced in preparing the pasta and the song's melody playing throughout the house speaker system, you don’t register the sliding glass door opening and closing or the soft thump of Blundstone boots across the hardwood floor. You only register that another person has entered the kitchen when a pair of sun-warmed tattooed arms wrap around your waist.

“What are you doing in here? You’re supposed to be outside relaxing.” you chastise sweetly.

“I got lonely. I missed my girl.” Julien smiles, resting the side of her cheek on your back, effectively smooshing herself into you.

“Well, dinner is almost ready. I just need to plate this after mixing the pesto and tomatoes into the pasta. If you miss me that much, you can sit at the island and watch, but I can’t finish dinner if you’re wrapped around my waist, baby.” 

“Fine, but we're eating dinner on the bed swing so you can sit in my lap.” 

“Deal.” you agree. She unravels her arms from around your waist and gently kisses behind your ear before making her way to a barstool. 

After plating the pasta and pouring drinks, you and JB return back outside, plopping down onto the bed swing, plates of pasta in hand. JB sits her plate down to the side and makes grabby hands in your direction. You know immediately what she wants, and you shake your head with a goofy grin and scootch your way into her lap. 

Taking in the countryside before you, the sun had finally set, and what was left was an orangy hue spreading a precious glow just above the rolling planes of land. Absolutely breathtaking.

“I’m so glad this is our home.” you sigh out in gratitude, leaning into Julien’s sternum.

“I mean, yeah, but this house isn’t really my home, though,” 

Furrowing your brows in confusion, she shakes her head and continues,

“You’re my home. I could be anywhere in this world, and the minute you’re there with me, in my arms, I’m home.” 

“JB, that is the cheesiest, sweetest thing you’ve ever said. You’re such a sap.” you smile, tears slowly welling in your eyes.

“It’s true. No house could ever replace the feeling of comfort you bring me.” 

“Jay, Stop it. I’m gonna cry, and I haven’t eaten my food yet.” 

“I’m sorry, doll, I’m sorry. Let’s eat this delicious food my little chef has so kindly cooked up.” 

Dinner consisted of little talking, many satisfied groans of appreciation for a good meal, and a couple of stolen kisses. By the time you’d finished eating, the sun had been replaced by the moon, the chirping birds were replaced with chirping crickets, and a smattering of stars had appeared across the midnight-black sky. 

“That was delicious, baby, thank you.” 

“Of course. I’m always happy to take care of you when you’ve had a rough day.” you smile, snuggling into her side. 

A particularly chilly breeze rolled over the two of you. JB grabbed the tattered quilt that lay over the back of the swing and covered the two of you up. 

“I could stay out here forever.” You sighed, nuzzling your nose into Julien’s neck. Wrapping an arm around your back and pulling you closer to her side, she smiled down at your sleepy face.

“Me too, doll, me too.” 

[peonierose]

How are Bryce and Luna coping during the first month of being parents, and to twins no less?

”Love Me Tender“

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Luna Auclair (F!OC)

Words: 2,428k

TW: None. Mentions of breastfeeding.

Summary: Bryce and Luna are newly minted parents and weren’t prepared of struggling to put their twins to bed. Will they succeed?

A/N: Thanks so much for your ask @liaromancewriter it inspired me for two fics actually. ”Love Me Tender“ is one of them 🥰 The Title was inspired by one of the greatest artists and hot guys who’s ever lived, Elvis Presley 🩷

Bryce

It was 4:35 in the morning, and both Lunes and I were still awake. Trying to put the twins to bed. 

I sighed. 

How‘d my life come to this? Don’t get me wrong. I love our girls more than anyone I could ever love, but getting them to sleep is a real struggle. 

We put them to bed hours ago and put them on the mobile, letting pretty stars and moons go by, but their sleep didn’t last long. 

They woke up two hours ago and won’t fall asleep.

What happened to peace and quiet? One week prior, everything was great. They didn’t mention this quick transition in the pregnancy books I read. Maybe I read the wrong books? 

Well, I guess they covered other stuff, but not what to do when your kids wake you up at 4 a.m.

Luna suddenly sits up with Kehlani and walks her around the room. With Alaia in my arms, I go and get the bunnies they got from Ethan, their godfather, hoping that’ll soothe them into sleep. 

They hang onto the bunnies for a few seconds, but they’re still fussy. It didn’t work. Alaia's little face was still red from crying. 

So maybe plans c or d could work? Damn, we could really use Keiki’s help, but she’s on a field trip with her study group. 

Luna’s voice brings me back into the moment. 

”They’re not hungry, right? We changed them, and now what?“ Luna asks while I’m holding Alaia close to my chest. As I place kisses on top of her head, her soft blonde hair smells of lavender shampoo. 

I read somewhere that babies like skin-to-skin contact. So that’s why Lunes and I are basically standing in the middle of the room in our underwear. 

”I don’t know. Honestly, I’m close to crying with them. Then it’ll be a duet.“ Luna says it with a sigh. 

I exhale a long breath I’ve been holding in because I’m frustrated too. God, I‘ve never appreciated sleep more than I do now.

”What if we show them a video with marine animals? They seemed to love that last time.“ I suggested it, and I could see Luna’s shoulder droop in relief.

”Let’s give it a try.“ Luna adds, and we walk downstairs and sit down with the twins as I turn on Disney+ and select a nature documentary about marine animals, one that’ll last for at least two and a half hours. 

Soon, both twins' eyes are glued to the screen. 

We didn’t want to start them too early on screen time, but sometimes you have to in order to function as a human being and get some rest. 

After 30 minutes or so into the documentary, I saw both their eyes drooping, and they fell asleep.

”You’re a genius.“ Luna whispers, scared to wake them up.

"Well, this genius is too scared to move.“ I say frozen in place.

Luna sighs.

”Is now a bad time to have to pee?“ She says it with a guilt tinge in her voice.

I close my eyes. 

"Oh, come on, Lunes. Couldn’t you have peed before they fell asleep? What if we wake them up? Look how long it took before they fell asleep.“ 

Luna softly moves around.

”I’ll be quick, I promise.“ She says this and gently places Kehlani on the couch. As soon as her feet hit the floor, Lani stirs and starts to cry. Rosie isn’t far behind. 

”I hope your pee is worth waking the twins over.“ I'm trying to massage their little backs, hoping it’ll soothe them. 

Twins are funny in that regard. They have a special bond, especially if they’re identical twins, like our girls. 

But the downside is that as soon as one is ill or cries, the other does as well. 

They’re creepily in sync. Hopefully, it won’t stay like this forever—the crying, I mean. I know Kehlani and Alaia will turn out wonderful.

I turn to my wonderful girls.

”Why don’t you stop crying? Daddy would really like to get some sleep. So I can wake up pretty.“ 

They look up at my words and then continue crying. 

That’s when it hits me amidst the crying. I remember when Keiki and I were little, my mom used to sing to us »Love Me Tender« by Elvis Presley; it always calmed us down. Maybe we can try it with the twins. 

As soon as Luna is back from her bathroom break, I gently take the twins into my arms.

”I think I have an idea.“ I say the idea for the song is taking root. 

We walk upstairs, and Luna eyes me skeptically. 

”You know how to brew a potion that will make them sleep for seven hours straight?“ She asks excitedly. 

I gave her a sideways look. 

"Yeah, that was a little bit unrealistic.“ She shrugs, and I laugh softly. 

”Let’s try singing »Love Me Tender« by Elvis Presley.“

”Why that song?“ She asks as we reach the twin's bedroom. 

I breathed out, and as I laid the twins in their beds, I turned towards Luna, who never looked more beautiful. 

With wild hair, just in her underwear, illuminated by the light from the hallway. 

I put a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she smiled tenderly at me. It’s these moments I treasure the most, even with the twins crying. 

I pulled her closer as I told her about the idea I had. I want to reveal a bit more about myself and my childhood, which I don’t talk about nearly enough, but I should, because whether it was good or bad, memories are important to talk about. 

”My mom used to sing that song to me and Keiki all the time. Whenever we were sick, or when we were sad and had a hard time, it just always made things a bit easier.“ I explained.

Luna‘s smile reached her tired eyes, and she cupped my cheek to give me a soft kiss. 

”Let’s give it a try. I think I’ve still got my ukulele somewhere. Let me go grab it, and we’ll try singing that song. To be honest, it’s one of my favorite songs by Elvis. He was such a hot guy and so sweet. And what a voice, my god! They just don’t make them like that anymore.“

"Hey, I’m trying to save the world, and you’re calling another man hot? Shame on you, Lunes.“

”You didn’t let me finish. They don’t make them like that anymore, but you are the exception.“ She grinned. 

”You were always my favorite.“ I smiled and slapped her butt, making her laugh out loud as she went to look for her ukulele. Her laughter was still echoing from the walls, making me grin too. 

After a minute or so, Luna came back with her pink ukulele, adorned with flowers, hearts, and moons. She sat down in front of the twin beds and played the first tunes.

”I had no idea you played the ukulele.“ I was surprised to see her play the ukulele like a pro.

”I learned it along with Hula dancing.“

“Can I get this as a late birthday present?“ I imagined her in a hula get-up. The best image ever. 

Luna sighed.

"Really, that’s where your mind went to?“ She chastised me.

”Don‘t blame me. I’m tired and horny. And I’m not sorry.“

She shook her head, grinning. Soon the first tunes of the ukulele joined with her soft voice, and the twins stopped their crying. Too fascinated by what’s going on to keep crying. 

Yes, I pump my fist in the air; it looks as if the plan worked. Luna and I fist-bumped each other because our plan turned out better than expected. 

As the last note echoed in their bedroom, they soon fell asleep, and it looked as if we could go and catch some sleep too. 

”Thank God for our parents, who had good ideas.“

Luna nodded. 

We put on the mobile with the moon and stars spinning around softly and didn’t close the door entirely as we went to our bedroom. 

When we were lying down in bed, Luna turned to me, and I put an arm around her to pull her closer to me. 

”Let me guess you have a million questions.“ I said, and she elbowed me in the side. I laughed and kissed her on top of her head. 

”You miss her, don’t you?“

I don’t even try to act as if I don‘t know who she’s referring to.

"Yeah, I do, more than I care to admit.“ I turn around, so we’re lying face-to-face. 

”Maybe you need some love me tender too.“ Luna says this as she’s leaning into me. 

”That would be nice.“ I smiled against her lips.

Two days later...

Luna

We’re both leaning on the kitchen counter, bleary-eyed, and with our eyes half closed. 

”This is the second time in a row we haven’t slept.“ I mumbled. 

Bryce doesn't even look up from his coffee. 

”I mean, we knew this was going in, but it still stinks sometimes.“ 

I nodded and almost missed my mug in front of me.

”Damn. I never appreciated coffee as much as I do now. I love our kids, but I’d give my left kidney for two hours of sleep. Not even night shifts are this bad.“ 

”Come on, we'll get through this.“ I tried to sound more cheerful but just ended up sounding tired. But from the smile tugging at Bryce’s lips, I could still make him smile, which is a win in my book.

I’m about to take another sip from my juice since I‘m nursing when our doorbell rings, and I just grumble. 

”I’ll go get it.“ I said, and Bryce just mumbled incoherent words. 

I opened the front door, seeing my cousin Skyler, or Sky for short, stand in front of me.

”Good morning, sunshine.“ He looked well rested, with no dark circles under his smooth tan skin. His piercing dark blue eyes shone as if he sprang from the youth fountain. It’s so unfair how good he looked compared to my tired self. 

I groaned again and shielded my eyes from the glaring sun coming inside our house.

I stepped aside, and Sky walked in. 

”Is it a good morning? Huh. It’s already morning, and the sun is shining. Gosh, I’ve lost all feeling for what time it actually is or what day.“

Sky turned my way and only raised his eyebrows.

”You’re being weird.“

I sighed and joined Bryce in the kitchen. I grinned as Bryce held on to his steaming coffee mug, half asleep. 

”I came to the rescue. I thought I’d have to send a search party after your radio silence.“ 

”Please make him stop saying words.“ Bryce groaned.

”Come on, I’m good with kids, and I’m offering to help.“ Sky grinned. 

”So they sent you?“

”B!“ I exclaimed.

”Look, man. I’m really sorry. I’m just so fucking tired.“ Bryce sighed.

”Me too.“ I joined in while taking a sip of my mango and pineapple juice. 

"Yeah, Luna too.“ Bryce said while smiling tiredly. 

”No hard feelings. It’s all good. You‘ll get a free pass. This once. I know mom and dad struggled with us; you know, we're triplets, so I thought I’d help you out.“ Sky explained. 

Bryce’s eyes were tired from being up all night helping me change the twins and trying to make them fall asleep. 

We’re exhausted, and it’s only been four months since we brought the twins home. 

Sky looked from me to Bryce.

”You guys look as if you’ve partied all night. And it was a weird theme party.“ He teased. 

"Yeah, if you count changing, breastfeeding, and getting the twins to sleep, and it takes almost all night? Yeah, then we partied real hard.“ I sighed.

And then I added. 

"Damn, breastfeeding really hurts. Who knew? I really hope the pain lessens a bit.“

”I’m even too tired to make a dirty joke about breasts and make you feel better.“ Bryce sighed and smiled softly but tiredly.

”I don’t need to know about your…uhh…anatomy. Or your female body parts.“ Sky winced. 

”Who’s being weird now?“ I smirked.

”Fair.“

We were all startled when we heard the baby monitor on the kitchen counter squeak. 

Both Bryce and I groaned.

Sky smiled.

”You know what? Why don’t I check up on the little angels? While you guys do whatever it is you do, make out or something.“

”We’re way too tired to make out.“ Bryce and I said it at the same time. 

The fog in my brain lifted, and it hit me. 

”Wait, are you here to babysit?“ 

Sky shrugged. 

"Yeah, why not? I have the next two days off, so I thought I’d take over, and you can go and do whatever it is you’re doing.“

”You’re an angel, and I love you.“ I smiled and hugged him tight. Sky grinned and hugged me back. 

Yep, he’s my favorite cousin. At least right now. 

”She doesn’t mean it.“ Bryce commented with a mischievous glint in his eyes. I grinned, so that’s where Lani and Rosie got it from. 

”Stop being mean.“ I said this to Bryce without any real heat behind my words. 

”Sorry. If you’re true to your word, I’ll go take a nap.“

I stopped hugging Sky for a minute to give B a look.

”Not even showering?“

”I love my bed more than my shower right now.“

"Well, I don’t. So let’s hit the shower.“ 

Sky looked from me to Bryce.

”You are weirding me out. I’ll go look after the twins.“ 

”Thanks Sky.“

”You got it.“ He yelled. 

Bryce and I walked outside to our shower while Bryce mumbled and was grumpy until the water hit his face. 

When we came back from our shower and were settled in our bed, Bryce checked the baby monitor, but the monitor was quiet. It looks as if Sky is a wizard when it comes to calming down kids. 

”It’s so quiet.“ I turned to Bryce.

”What did we do before we had kids? Look at me, sounding pathetic.“

”You don’t sound, and you aren’t pathetic. It’s a new routine for us. And I guess we just have to find our balance.“

We both nodded.

Bryce drew circles on my skin, and I curled up into him, and seconds later we were already asleep while holding hands. 

Life is good when you’re with the people you love. Whether you’re blood-related or not, cherish those moments. 

[ghostwiththeemost]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ FROM THE CRADLE TO CREMATION . . . DEATH JUST NEEDS A LITTLE CONVERSATION ~ !࿐ྂ

Hey babes~ seems ya found my blog! Welcome to my humble abode. You may be asking “who is this SEXY SEXY man?” Well I’ll tell ya! I’m Behjdbbdnf… Beejkbngd… Bug wine. 🪲🧃. Use the emojis babe. I can’t type my own fucking name apparently. How fucked up is THAT?! Ugh, anyway… Let’s get onto the real shit. I’m the boss bitch here, you should hire me to get some shitty humans out of your beloved home. Or, call me up to fuck. Either works.

Alright, alright. People put their info and shit so I’ll do just that. I’m 🪲🧃, but ya can call me “sexy” or “handsome” or “sweets” or “pretty boy” or anything ;)~ Kay, moving on! I’m the ghost with the most, the biggest dick in town babe. He/him, but I can also be your/yours~ ;) I don’t care for labels, I’m a sexual beast. You wanna talk? Talk. You wanna flirt? Flirt. Send nudes? Eeeehhhh… Probably not, sorry sweetheart. I’d totally say yes, but that’d get me banned.

Anything else? Yeah, a lot actually. Ask me about shit. I’m over 600 years old, I’ve seen a lot, done a lot, witnessed a lot, I’m the fuckin best. I mean look at me, I’m the coolest ghost in town! ;)~ Also the best dick. DEFINITELY the best dick.

Well well well! Quite Fancy seeing you back here! Yet ANOTHER wonderful roleplay blog, and even a BETTER character?!?!??!?!1 WOAHHHHH! Wowie!

Hi! I'm the wonderful mod behind this obnoxious green ghoul of a man, and I hope you can stay a bit, have a seat, chat a bit! Learn a bit, see some tags behind this wonderful super duper cool page, yakknow how it is!

The name's Dew! Dewey if you wanna be fancy, but nah, I'm just a guy on the internet here to write for his funny bug man. No formalities needed. The pronouns are HE/SHE! I'm Genderfluid and Gay!

Kay, mini bits of info here... I'm an adult! So that being said I'm going to keep a boundary on certain aspects such as some forms of nsfw and SOME ships. Mostly I don't care? I'd just prefer if you were to tell me or have your age in bio before deciding to imply nsfw ROLEPLAYS. Flirting or nsfw anons I don't really care about, it's bound to happen, but you get it. also beetlebabes dni you all SUUUUUCKKKK.

Let's see... I have some other accounts. @candycoffinss , @photographerstanheight , @screamingqueenxoxo ... Other stuff, we'll see what I reveal.

Right, right... Tags and extra info... |🪲| ~ 𝑴𝑶𝑫 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑲𝑺! - This is me talking!! >:] |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹𝑺! - Replies to asks, you know how it is. |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑱’𝑺 𝑽𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑺! - call for interacts maybe?? |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝑺! - Random yapping he does, reblogs... etc. |🪲| ~ 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑻𝑳𝑬𝑱𝑼𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺 𝑯𝑨𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺! - Interactions Yeaaaaa

|🪲🔞| ~ 𝑺𝑼𝑮𝑮𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬! - yea some things will be suggestive labeled just in case pleeease be cautious tyyy beetlejuice can be a menace.

ALRIGHT! FINAL BIT OF INFO!!!!! This writing of beetlejuice is a mix of everything, but I'm mainly leaning toward Justin Collette's version of Beetlejuice. He's still Beetlejuice of course, but keep in mind he won't be much like Alex Brightman if you're looking for an adaptation of him! (...There will be crumbs tho. Pathetic meow meow...) ANYWAY! Yeah, Just wanted to throw that out there, I didn't know if people would want my head for it LMAOOOO but YEAH!!! I'm free w any interactions btw. other fandoms, other blogs, movie characters, musical characters, do it !! >:] ok I think that's it... until I decide to go bonkers again. thanks for reading if you got this far! smooches ur forehead /p

[thehomophobe]

he was overqualified for the job

“Give it up for the Glamrocks once again!” The roar of an applause echoed through the crowd. Each member of the band waved at their adoring audience. Freddy and Chica both smiled happily while Monty and Roxy relished every moment of it. 5 minutes of fame is always nice, but it’s only 5 minutes. The Glamrocks slowly descended down to the ground floor, content with their performance. Last performance of the day, finally. All that’s left is the meet & greets. The main four split up into their respective attractions.

Gator Golf wasn’t as packed as usual today. The biggest group of people that stopped by was a birthday party. Congrats for little Daniel turning 10. Double digits woohoo! Not important. What’s currently on Monty mind was rock n’ roll music. More specifically, rock bands over the years. Ever since all the animatronics were updated with a built in browser and messaging, Monty had some fun searching up whatever pop into his head when he got bored. Maybe a little too much fun. Anyway in the pools of swampy waters, Monty’s little search engine tab open several articles about history and timelines and random facts about some famous band members.He didn’t care about any of that.

Well…except that majority of the famous ones usually consisted of a drummer.

Monty pondered for a minute as he looked through some photos. As far as he could see, old rock bands consisted of two guitarists (a lead guitarist and a rhythm guitarist, with one of them singing lead vocals), a bassist, and a drummer. Wonder what it could be like to have a drummer. They could finally play different songs than the ones they were used to.

Man…ever since Chica came with the idea of having the band write their own songs, Monty started planning. In private of course! He doesn’t want any distractions. (Yeah right 😏) Brainstorming wasn’t as boring as he thought it was. Time consuming but fun. Especially, listening to some old music for 80’s. Gives him inspiration he says. But until recently, everything the Glamrocks played was just about everything they could come up with. Freddy was stumped, Roxy lost interest, even Chica was struggling. And her songs are the ones they’ve been using! Yeah. They needed a drummer. But who would be the drummer? It can’t be Freddy, he’s already the lead singer of the band. Chica’s too good with the guitar. And Roxy doesn’t plan on switching from her keytar anytime soon. “Maybe I’ll play the drums…” Monty muttered. But he loves the bass. The deep, utter moans crooning along the music. It’s perfect for him. Maybe he could tag-team?

Attention all guests, the Pizzaplex will be closing in 10 minutes. Please make your way to the exits.

The announcement snapped Monty out of his thoughts. Already closing huh? He hasn’t been thinking for that long. Whatever, if it means he can get out of here he’s fine.

Chica: Emergency band meet at in my green room!!!!

Looks like he wasn’t going anytime soon.

“You had to call us over here?”

“What’s the big deal?”

“What is this said emergency you speak of?”

Chica slumps on her couch. She sighs in defeat. “I’ve got nothing…” She mumbles. The rest didn’t hear her. “I said I’m stumped. I’ve got nothing.” She pulls out a bunch of crumpled papers. “This was all the stuff I spent on for the past two weeks!” The trash bin next to her vanity was overflowing, some of the papers migrated to the floor due to a lack of space. “Lyrics, sheet music, you name it! I tried everything.” She slumped back down.

”Why can’t we just use the old songs? Roxy suggested.

“But they’re so boring…” Chica groaned. “It’s so much better to play songs we come up with.”

“There’s nothing wrong with using the pre-uploaded music for our performances.” Freddy reassures. It didn’t really help with Chica’s frustration. Maybe this was the moment for Monty to actual say something genuine.

”We need a drummer.” Ok not as genuine as some thought.

“You’re right!” Chica exclaimed. Wow, an idea Monty came up with doesn’t get shot down in 3 seconds. “Actually, a lot of the sheet music I wrote needed some drums to keep the rhythm going.” She digs through her trash bin to find them.

“And where the hell are we gonna get a drummer?” Roxy raised a brow. Monty didn’t have an answer. Luckily, Chica did.

“Auditions!”

”But we are not allowed to have any guests stay here after hours.” Said Freddy. He’s sadly right. And even if it was during hours, there won’t be any time left.

“Maybe someone here can play?"

”Chica there’s only two other options, DJ Music Man and the daycare attendant.” Roxy retorted. She doubt any of the staff bots even knew how to how a drumstick.

“And Music Man won’t fit on the stage with us.” Freddy added.

“Then Sun it is! I’ll go talk to them right now.” Chica left her green room with excitement. She left the others in a state of confusion.

“Does really think that clown can drum?

Boy was Chica happy. She’s glad Monty brought up needing a drummer. After all the stuff she wrote down, she knew something was missing. How could she not have known, a drummer’s job was to keep the tempo going. The sheet music she created was meant for fast, upbeat songs. Not to mention she did find an old drum set while wandering around for trash food. The daycare. She made it. Fingers crossed they’re up and running today. Not saying Moon wasn’t as good as Sun, but they just fit the role better.

*Knock Knock*

“Come in~.” A sing-song like voice emitted from the doors. Chica happily walks in, her potential drummer is in her sights.

“Why Ms. Chica! I didn’t think you would come today." Sun greets in his usual manner.

“Listen Sun, it’s important. We need you for something.” Chica grabbed Sun’s hand and hastily pulled him outside.

“Chica, where are we going..?” Sun’s fidgety voice asked.

“You’ll see!”

In the time Sunrise only seemed to get worse, even when they were alone his chipper happy voice had left them. Chica had beamed, immediately rushing down the hall.

Chica: i got them. meet me at the stage!

“Shouldn’t I wear anything different? This will be my first outing in years!” Sunrise huffed when Chica said it shouldn’t be a big deal. To Sunrise it was the biggest, maybe even bigger than a child turning 10! Maybe.

“But aren’t the other Glamrocks are going to see me? I want to look presentable for tonight!” They didn’t exactly have clothing to wear either way, especially none that fit them, but somehow Sunrise had acquired items over the years. Suppose boredom can lead to strange hobbies? (By animatronic standards, as they weren’t meant to have hobbies.) Apparently Sunrise would take clothes from the lost and found and repurpose them, to the best of his ability. Too late now.

“Oh relax Sun, it’ll only be for a couple of minutes.” Chica reassured. Sun whispering worries and doubts under his breath all the while. Chica had already told him why he’s was dragged out the daycare, explaining that the Glamrocks were running out of ideas for songs and that maybe a drummer would help make new songs. Sun admitted that he always liked their music. As much as it was muffled. But hearing they were having some trouble, he wouldn’t mind helping out. Sunrise gazed around the massive dome that was the concert area of the Mega Pizzaplex. It was filled with light, sure as to not bring out Moondrop, colors dancing wildly and beautifully around. And the best part? Near the concert stage was the other three Glamrocks; excitement, anticipation, and welcoming dawning across all of them. “Hey you found the drums!” Chica noticed the drum set that sat atop the stage basking in the light, revealing the golden yellow of each piece. Sun was enchanted by it but looked back at the other Glamrocks with the same delight and fear. “Thank Fredbear over here for finding it.” Monty eyed Freddy; it was his idea, how come Teddy Ruxpin gets the credit?! No matter, the real concern was the clown in yellow who looked anxious.

“Chica, you can’t seriously believe this guy can drum?” Roxy crossed her arms.

“Roxy, there is no need to doubt their abilities. We will give them a chance.” Freddy assured.

”Yeah I think they at least know a few things about drumming right?” Chica turns to Sun, awaiting an answer. To which he responds with a nervous smile and laughs.

“I-I think I know a thing or two.” He said shakily.

“Well no time like the present.” Monty grabs Sun and hoists him up to the stage. “Show us what you got.” The gator huffed. Sun gazed at the golden drum set. They must’ve just cleaned because it looks brand new. Wonder where’d they’ve found it. He sits in the swivel seat, swinging left and right. A little smile grew on his face as it the stool calmed him. A little distraction if you will. The Glamrocks stepped back to get a better view of Sunrise and the stage. “Alright Sunny, whenever you’re ready. You got this!” Chica cheered. Sun smiled at the her words as he picked up the sticks.

As the music started, Sun bobbed their head to the beat. A fairly tame instrumental. A simple rhythm emitted from Sun with the drum set, the sticks playing a 4-beat in a slowly pace. Not bad for someone like him. Freddy smiled at the canary-colored jester, he’s glad his friend’s nerves calmed down as they played. Chica felt the same, but she silently wished for some more from them. No matter, this was a just an idea. Monty was surprised that the clown had actual musical knowledge. Especially for someone who listens to the same jingle every day. But he was starting to get bored. He could see it in Roxy too. As he was just about to cut off the music, the instrumental quickened.

And so did the drums.

Sun's pace increased in what was the bridge of the song. They were completely lost in the music. Eyebrows were raised and eyes were sparkling amongst the four bandmates. Surprise, delight and a little disbelief was in the air. They watch as their friend keep the beat of the sample instrumental, making it more fun and lively.

“See, I told you they had some talents.”

“Right you are Chica. Sun is very capable of become our drummer.”

“Not bad, I guess.”

”I could do better.”

While the Glamrocks were having their own conversation, Sun sped up the pace.

Drastically.

The Glamrocks stopped talking and listen to the new tempo. We’re getting closer to the end of the instrumental. Sun beat the drums like there was no tomorrow. The sticks hit each part of the percussion set. The snare drum, the high tom, the medium tom, the floor tom, some of the cymbals. All in the harmony with the instrumental. Yeah, they’re completely lost in the music. The solo began afterwards. It was like a watch a love concert. Sun jerked with each movement of his body, banging the drums in chaotic but rhythmic fashion.The Glamrocks were speechless. And by Glamrocks, I mean Monty and Roxy. Freddy and Chica were too busy recording and transcribing each beat into sheet music in their data bank. And once the solo ended, he paused for a second before a drum roll brought the rest of the instrumental back for the finale. It was clear, Sunrise was gonna be their drummer. Chica’s creative juices were flowing, she’s already cooking up new songs for future performances.

Once the music ended, Sun huffed as if he was out of breath. If he was human, he’d be covered in sweat by the extreme workout of drumming. “That was fun!” He cheered, drum sticks in the air in triumph. The Glamrocks were still shell shocked by the performance. ”Oops…guess I got carried away.” They said sheepishly as they rose up from the cushiony stool, ready to leave the stage in the embarrassment. Clapping can be heard from two of the Glamrocks.

“Way to go, Superstar! I didn’t know you could do that!” Freddy applauded.

”That was AWESOME!” Chica exclaimed. “Where did you learn to drum like that?”

Sun blushed a little. “Sometimes I like to play with this little drum kit I found in the Lost & Found.” A bashful little smile form on his face. “So…does that mean I’m in the band?” He asked. How was that even a question?! YES! When sun got off the stage, Chica hugged Sun and spinned them around in joy as Freddy congratulated the animatronic.

Monty and Roxy had no words. How? HOW?! And of ALL the people?! THE DAYCARE ATTENDANT?!?! Was it the daycare attendant or did the spirit of a rockstar took over their body? Whatever it was, Sunrise was their drummer no matter what.

For they knew…

he was overqualified for the job.

[solarmorrigan]

Little epilogue to the “Steve crochets Eddie a scarf” story (I promise I’m done now)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Ao3

“What are you working on?” El asks, leaning slightly into Eddie’s space to watch as he works.

Eddie pulls his latest stitch tight and tilts the fabric a bit so El can see the patch he’s securing. “I’m putting my new battle vest together,” he says. “Since someone bled all over the last one.”

“You knew I was bleeding when you gave it to me!” Steve snaps from the other end of the couch. “Anyway, we salvaged most of the patches, I don’t see why you have to keep complaining about it.”

“Because you’re so pretty when you’re irritated,” Eddie says, and he can hear Will give a snort of laughter from where he’s bent over a sketchpad on the floor.

Baby Byers is the latest addition to their little group of creatives; he doesn’t do anything with yarn or thread, but he does set up with colored pencils or, sometimes, a little set of watercolors and listens while Steve and Joyce gossip.

(His presence has stumped Steve’s continued efforts at naming the group, however.

“Five people probably makes up, like, an actual circle, but he doesn’t do… fabric-related things,” Steve ponders.

“Call it a craft pentagram,” Eddie suggests.

“No,” Steve vetoes immediately. “Besides, it’s six when Murray shows up.”

Right. That guy.

Eddie isn’t quite sure what he thinks of Murray Bauman just yet; he doesn’t appreciate the relentless roasting of his and Steve’s “honeymoon phase” (Bauman’s words, not his), but it is funny watching him threaten to teach Steve how to knit. In either case, Bauman and Joyce are good friends, so he’ll have to be included in the final group count.

Eddie and Steve decide to think on the name a little longer.)

“What is a battle vest?” El asks.

“It’s a metal thing. You put stuff like patches and pins onto a vest to show off the bands you like, the stuff you support, the stuff you don’t support – shit like that.” Eddie spreads the vest out a bit more to show El what he’s gotten done so far; he’s collected a few more patches since this spring, and he’s still considering what he wants to do with the pack panel, but he thinks it’s really coming together.

El runs a finger over the Motörhead patch. “And you sew it yourself?”

“That’s the only way to do it, kid.” Eddie grins. “My uncle Wayne taught me to sew when I came to stay with him. Said it was something everyone should know how to do.” Here, El nods wisely, and Eddie can see both Steve and Joyce grinning in his periphery. “I’m pretty sure I fidgeted and fussed through every single lesson, but he was right. I was glad I at least knew the basics once I started putting my first vest together.”

El studies his work a little longer before declaring, “It’s bitchin’,” and startling a bark of laughter out of Eddie.

“Thank you very much,” he says, pulling the vest back into his lap. “At least someone appreciates it.”

“Not taking the bait,” Steve drawls.

“Did you do these, too?” El draws Eddie’s attention back; she’s brushing a thumb over the bottom hem of the vest, where Eddie has sewn in a tiny swarm of bats in purple thread.

“Oh. Yeah, those are mine,” Eddie says. “That’s a little different from what I’m doing with the patches. Just some dumb embroidery.”

“I like it,” El says, looking up at him. “Would you show me how?”

Eddie blinks, taken aback by the sincerity in the request. “Uh – well, yeah, sure. I think I’ve got some extra stuff at home I can bring next time. I’m not, like, the best at it, but–”

“Thank you.” El cuts off Eddie’s uncertainty with a smile. “And I can show you how to crochet.”

Eddie can’t say he’s ever really wanted to learn how to crochet – or that he’d even really known what it was until a few months ago; he’s mostly been content to leave that particular craft to Steve.

He glances over to where Steve is sitting now, frowning over the blanket (afghan?) he’s finally decided to try his hand at; despite what Steve says about not being sure about what he’s doing, it’s coming out beautifully. Eddie knows it’s going to end up a prized possession on Buckley’s bed when it’s done.

From the chair beside Steve’s end of the couch, Joyce catches Eddie’s eye and gives him a sly smile he finds he can’t help but return.

And as Eddie thinks about it, it’s a gift all on its own, isn’t it? Getting to teach someone something you know, getting to learn something from them, too. And hell, you can never have too many hobbies.

“Yeah,” Eddie finally says, turning back to El. “Why not?”

[kittyball23]

Hi is it okay if you write a story about baby branch and Floyd

It sure is 😊

Remember (a Trolls fanfic)

Dear Diary,

It’s been a pretty quiet evening at home so far, and I guess there’s a few reasons for that. For one, I guess it’s no secret that I’m the quietest among my brothers (they say I should assert myself more, but I find that I can’t - it’s just the way I am 0.0). Also, my older brothers aren’t here at the moment, and the bro that IS here is sleeping on my lap (it’s a little hard to write right now, but I can manage). I’m guessing you’re probably wondering where exactly my older brothers are. Well, John Dory is out running some errands with Grandma, so they’re hitting the grocery store and a few other places (plus, JD DID say he was going to try and get supplies for some new costume ideas he has planned for us and our band, BroZone).

Spruce is out on a date. He ran another one of his competitions, and the winner this time around is a girl named Doreen. I’ve seen her around town a bit, and she seemed very excited to be able to be with him. As for Spruce… I don’t think I could really say the same :( But, regardless, they were heading out to Senior Frosty’s. A lot of us like to go down there for some sweet treats (personally, I think Grandma’s stuff is the best, but they’re okay too ^_^). Spruce’s favorite is the Tropical Sunset sundae, which is an ice cream that I think is made from vanilla, with some kind of fruity syrup and chunks of pineapple on top. It sounds pretty tasty, but my personal preference is the strawberry delight (an underrated flavor, but delicious nonetheless!)

Clay headed off to another one of his sad-book club meetings. He’s sorta told me about them before, but I’m a little nervous to go to one, if I’m being honest. If it’s about sad books like he says, I’m probably gonna be in tears the whole time! I guess I’ll just have to make sure that I pack a lot of tissues when I do get the chance to accompany him :)

That leaves me and Branch, like I mentioned before. We had some fun with all kinds of activities around the house.

We frosted some sugar cookies that Grandma had baked earlier in the day (Branch got a little messy with the decorating, but he didn’t mind). We played some games (the usual - hide-and-seek, tag… freeze tag) and sang some of our band’s songs together. I’m very proud of him. Even though he’s only a couple years old, he’s got a great falsetto going. Golden! I can tell he’s going to be an amazing singer one day, and I can’t wait for him to start performing with us. John Dory thinks he’s ready, too. A few days ago, he actually suggested that we should start arranging for our first tour. Spruce and Clay agreed, and it’s going to be so exciting!

As Floyd tapped his pencil to his chin, pondering what to write down next, the light weight on his lap began to shift. He immediately put his journal down, and watched admiringly as Branch cutely yawned and stretched.

“Hey, Branch,” he cooed softly, stroking his brother’s delicate little cheek. “Did you have a good nap?”

The baby blinked up at him, rubbing the sleep out of his large blue eyes and grinning his sweet little one-toothed grin. “Uh-huh!”

Floyd chuckled and ruffled his rich blue hair. “That’s good.”

“What did you do, Floyd?” the small Troll asked curiously.

“Oh, I was just writing in my journal,” he said, showing him the book that he’d placed at his side.

“Ohhh,” Branch mused, cocking his head. “Can I see it?”

“Sure thing,” Floyd replied fondly, opening it up and allowing Branch to flip through the pages.

“I write all kinds of things in here,” the magenta-haired Troll explained while the baby stared in wonder. “Ideas, stories, wishes… but do you know what my favorite thing to write about is?”

“What?” Branch asked, his eyes twinkling with interest.

“All the stuff I do with you, and our brothers.”

“Wow! Really?”

“Definitely,” Floyd answered. “That way, when we want to remember something special, it’ll all be right here.” He gave him a little side hug that Branch happily leaned into with a giggle. Then, the little blue Trolling thought of something else.

“Do you write songs in there, too?”

Floyd nodded. “Yeah, I do.” Then he smirked. “But you know, I’ve been having a little trouble trying to finish the one I’ve been working on. Do you want to help me?”

His baby brother’s face lit up. “Yeah!”

And, as he and Branch made another cherished memory - harmonizing together and creating wonderful new melodies - Floyd made sure to recall every little detail of their experience so, in that way, he could notate it in his journal for them to always remember.

[voilate]

An Eye for Snow (tbosas)

Pairings: Sejanus Plinth x Fem!Reader x Coriolanus Snow?

Summary: When Magnolia Hawthorne gets herself mixed up in the Rebel, Capital crossfire to protect her close friend Sejanus, how will she navigate the already strenuous situation alongside Coriolanus Snow? (7.3k)

⚠️: Death, Explosions, Mentions of Abuse, Fighting, Minimal Swearing, Arguing

The marble floor is icy cold, sending goosebumps up my bare legs. I curse myself for wearing a skirt before realizing that I’d prefer my choice of clothing soon enough, amidst the sweltering temperatures I’m soon to face during my walk to the Arena.

“Thank you so much,” I grin guiltily at Tigris, removing the steaming bowl of cabbage soup from her warm hands. A rather gross reoccurrence of a meal that is often prepared in the Snow house, but it’s better than no meal, and who am I to judge someone who can feed me?

My stomach grumbles at the remembrance of the large meal that was provided on the day of the reaping. It was almost impossible to not stuff myself full the second I was seated, and I now regret not taking some food home with me.

It was Coriolanus himself who forbid me from doing it, though I could tell he wanted to just as badly.

“Please.” She laughs, “You have got to stop emphasizing your thanks when you’re practically a member of this household. I would take as much joy in starving you as I would Coryo.”

“Starving me?” Coriolanus enters the living area as he adjusts his coat.

“I wouldn’t starve either of you.” She smiles, “Though, one mentor seems far more grateful for my cooking than the other.”

She teasingly pats his shoulder as he passes her by without recognition, which results in a defeated look plastered on her face.

“Alright well, you two better get going unless you want to be late for,” She pauses, “What is it that you guys are doing again?”

Coriolanus opens the front door, holding it there and looking back as if anticipating my arrival.

“Taking our tributes to the arena.” I tell her, jumping to my feet and placing my barely touched soup back into her hands, “Have you or Grandma’am eaten today?”

“We will.” She smiles softly. “Now go!”

I follow after Coriolanus, grabbing the rims of my skirt and curtsying dramatically after he shuts the door behind us.

He rolls his eyes, “Must you be so polite?”

“In what other way would I find pleasure in spiting you?” I tease, wrapping my arm around his extended invitation as we walk. “Did you remember her food?”

“Of course. Did you remember yours?”

“Of course.” I echo with a sigh, “Not that she’ll even take it. Hasn’t learned to trust me like your Lucy Gray trusts you.”

I eye him as he suppresses a smile and as if alluding to something else, note, “You mustn’t pretend to be someone else around me, you know.”

“And you mustn’t use such proper dialogue in the presence of I.” He mocks. “Isn’t it exhausting?”

“And how do you know this isn’t how I naturally speak?”

“I watch you calculate each word before you vocalize it.”

“Your claim reminds me of yourself.” His brow furrows, “I always know when you are about to speak publicly based on how much attention you pay to a conversation. How deep you are into wondering when the appropriate time to weigh in is, and what the exact words are. Isn’t that exhausting?”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Sejanus.” He chuckles.

“I’ve been spending too much time with you. Anyone could see it if they had the eye to.”

“Not everyone has the eye.”

“That they don’t.”

The newfound melancholy of the atmosphere deflates just as quickly as it arose. Silence replaces our lighthearted conversation.

I examine his distant expression, what is he thinking about? I’ve found myself wondering that a lot since the Hunger Games began, his constant empty gaze that suggests he’s here with you when his mind is elsewhere.

I open my mouth to comment on the heat, but his inhale slams my mouth shut.

“Any encounters with your father lately?”

Really? That’s what he was thinking about?

“Thankfully no.” I peer away, gazing out into the city that surrounds us as I pull my arm from his grasp, crossing both of my own over my chest. “Not since that night.”

He nods, digesting the newfound information before returning to his distant safe space. I can tell that wasn’t the only question on his mind but know he won’t dare ask another one. What does he think he’ll be taken as if he does? Inquisitive? Whatever the case, I drop it completely and pay my utmost attention to the anxiety that has been bundled in the pits of my stomach all morning. I make it a point to fully look away from Coriolanus as I allow the worries to take over my mind. Even the slightest scent of suspicion will turn him into a dog on our trail. Sejanus doesn’t understand that Coryo is all-knowing and that years of constant manipulation have granted him the ultimate access to everyone else’s deceits. He will undoubtedly find out sooner or later.

“Let’s hope it’s later rather than sooner.” Sejanus had half-heartedly joked, though I could tell he was just as nervous about the plan as I. Part of me wanted to tell Coriolanus. Fall onto my knees and confide in him how I had all those years ago. I want to explain that I have to help Sejanus otherwise he’ll get himself caught and hung. I used to find such warmth within Coryo, he gifted me a security that no one else could provide. Three years ago I would’ve never kept such a dire secret from him, but now? I’m not the same girl he rescued from an abusive, alcoholic father. I’m not the same girl he shielded from rumors after my moving in with him and I’m certainly not the same girl who cried tears of joy after the Rebels had been defeated.

I am a rebel now. At least in the eyes of the capital I am. I have one foot stuck in the mud of the rebel life, and the rest of me is still clinging to any Capital advantages I may be granted. The dirt on my shoe is a crime worth a rope in the sky, or worse. I sometimes recall the very last hangings that I witnessed, when the Rebels that had infiltrated the Capital were caught, and very cruelly charged. My stomach churns and I become queasy at the realization of the stark difference between my feelings towards their punishment then, and now.

I had to fight to maintain my scholarly reputation after all the ruckus about my situation broke out. I’m too afraid to disclose any information about my wanting to remain a virtuous capital student to Sejanus, who had originally begged me to keep away from the mess he had made of things. Now I’m entangled and can’t escape without risking either of our lives. The only person who could help me even begin to unravel this mess is a boy who could report me to Dr. Gaul without a second glance. I’m as good as a traitor no matter who catches me. Would Sejanus get himself killed? How far is Coriolanus willing to go for prosperity? He’s not the same boy either. He’s softer, and more understanding than he was before, all thanks to his little songbird, but I don’t think he would let me get away with this, even now.

“Everything alright?” His voice startles me back to the Capital Streets.

“Oh-“ I fumble, “Just thinking.”

“Enlighten me.”

An open invitation to admit to all of my wrongdoings, my mistakes. Maybe if I come clean I will be spared. I won’t be considered a rebel sympathizer, not just that, a rebel!

“I-“ I begin, but pause as my feet meet the entrance of the Arena. “Just my father.”

“Ah.” He nods as if understanding. “Well try to forget about that nonsense for right now, you have a tribute to attend to.”

I depart with a soft smile, leaving him at the rear of the line formed of tributes and mentors to fill the empty gap left next to Sabyn.

“Let’s go.” A peacekeeper orders, hoisting the bars above his head to allow us to file in.

Immediately our line diminishes into a clump, Sejanus and his tribute falling back to stand by my side as others just try to fill the small space. We take turns putting our assigned coin into the slot and stepping through the turnstiles, each being greeted with the same stimulating, “Enjoy the show!” I have to use my left hand to steady the trembling of my right as I attempt to fit the shaking coin through the compact hole. Finally, it falls in and clinks as it hits the bottom, signaling that I may walk through.

“Enjoy the show!”

I curl my hands into fists in a desperate attempt to stop the shaking that instantly flags me as guilty.

Don’t look scared.

I remind myself.

Don’t become a suspect.

“Enjoy the show!” Sejanus slips behind me, covertly situating his hand into mine. He brushes his thumb over the temple of my hand, soothing it to a light tremble.

I peer up at him expecting to exchange a look but he blankly stares off into the distance as if simply awaiting the arrival of the remainder of our group. I quickly avert my eyes to the Arena, which will soon be destroyed, hopefully to the extreme of canceling the Hunger Games which will send Marcus, Sabyn, and all the rest of the tributes home safely.

Suddenly that word swings back at me, whacking my newfound confidence like a lethal boomerang.

Safely?

Did the rebels ever ensure the safety of the people inside the arena? They wanted bombs placed inside, which Sejanus and I very hesitantly assisted with, but for what purpose? To hit the Capital right where it hurts, the Hunger Games. They desired the cancelation of the games, but not for the safety of the tributes, for the incitement of the Capital. To irritate them.

The words feel like toxins, threatening to bubble up and verbalize in the form of vomit.

“Ow-“ Sejanus grunts softly, forcefully pulling his hand from my harsh grasp. “Are you okay?”

“I-“ I breathe before seeing his eyes dart towards the microphone that hangs on the wall just 10 feet away from us. Has it been activated? Would it pick up my words? I swallow down any audible form of my concerns and simply verbalize, “Just surreal is all. Haven’t seen this place in person since the war.” Though my eyes illustrate all structures of my distress.

Will they die? Will we die? Will all of this anxiety-induced effort serve us no purpose? All of this, just for the mere annoyance of the Capitol?

A sad smile of recognition crosses his face. He understands. He doesn’t showcase more than a wince but I know he understands.

“Enjoy the Show!”

“All right huddle up.” The peacekeeper orders, “You get 20 minutes, that’s it! Explore, look around, get used to the place, because soon enough you’ll be living in it.” He pauses seemingly expecting us to act, “Move!”

“Where should we look?” I signal to Sejanus, wondering where the safest spot might be.

“Let’s check out the center.”

“The center?” Marcus scoffs, “What’s the point in looking around? There’s no place to hide and no escape, you can practically see everything from this spot right here!”

My eyes peer to below the microphone where I know a bomb is planted far too close to us.

“You’ll get a much better view from the center,” Sejanus begins towards it, “Come on.”

With a reluctant roll of his eyes, Marcus and Sabyn follow behind him, both trying to pretend as though their gazes aren’t exploring the arena far better from this perspective.

Strategy is hard to talk about when you know there won’t be an arena for the strategy to take place in anyways, but I can tell they both expect some ounce of advice.

“Here,” I whisper, conscientiously digging into my pockets and pulling out the slice of ham I was able to salvage from lunch at the Academy yesterday. “I’m sorry it was all I could-“ She snatches it and stuffs it into her own pockets, a small smile breaching my lips.

Suddenly a violent detonation shakes the ground and rings through my ears. I fall to the floor, covered by my arms as well as Sejanus’. Another burst sounds on the opposite side of the large room, still shaking where we helplessly lay. Then another and another until eruptions are blowing all around the edges of the arena, sending winds of rubble throughout the air.

My head lays on the ground with Sejanus buried into my shoulder. I can’t see much of anything occurring but the blood-curdling sounds are enough to know that I was right. Safety was of no priority to the Rebels.

My sobs shake the entirety of my body as the endless amounts of explosions finally halt, only heightening the shrieks produced by my classmates and their tributes. Gunshots fire close by, shrinking me deeper into the ground.

“Help!” A distinct voice calls out. “Somebody help!”

I quickly pull from Sejanus’ grasp, jumping to my feet to help Coryo, who must be in serious trouble if he risks the vulnerability that crying for help requires.

“Come on!” Sejanus grabs my hand, now on his feet as he ushers me towards the exit that is in the opposite direction of Coriolanus’ cries. When he can’t seem to pull hard enough, I’m suddenly scooped from the floor, and tossed over his shoulder, as he rushes towards the doorway just as another explosion sounds and a fiery beam comes crashing down in the spot we once stood. I can’t see Coriolanus through the smoke and instantly burst into tears, jumping from Sejanus’ arms.

“Coriolanus!” I shout to the peacekeeper who’s just thrown Livia Cardew onto the dirt floor, “Coriolanus is in there! So is Lucy Gray!”

He shares an annoyed glance with another Peacekeeper before they both reluctantly run in after them.

Sejanus entangles me in a tight embrace as his chest heaves up and down. His silent sobs crush my heart as I rub my hand over his back. All he wants is to help people, and this is what we’ve done.

“Sejanus-“ My voice breaks. I try to comfort him. I want to explain that this isn’t our fault, that we could’ve never predicted what would’ve happened, but the lie I almost vocalize forces even worse cries from the pits of my stomach, and I can’t find the space to speak in between the sobs and quick breathes I attempt to take. This is entirely our fault.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“He’s gonna miss Lucy Gray’s interview,” I note, standing to watch as Caesar Flickerman introduces his songbird.

Tigris and Grandma’am follow close behind me.

“Well let me quit my jabbering and introduce the real star of the show. Lucy Gray Baird!”

I watch as the beautiful girl, in her newly cleaned rainbow dress approaches the microphone. For a split second, she looks nervous, but in an instant, the anxiety fades into confidence. She slips her hair behind her ear, smiling and waving to the crowd as if it were just another performance back in 12. Coriolanus should be up there with her, but instead, he’s here with us, hospitalized and asleep, in the same state he’s been confined to since the bombing 3 days ago.

“Own it,” I whisper, recalling the advice that she had given to Coryo the day he got locked in the monkey cage along with the rest of the tributes.

“Oh, she will.” Tigris smiles, “How could she not while wearing a clean dress like that!”

Lucy Gray had entrusted Tigris with the duty of tidying up the special dress she had worn since Reaping Day. It does look beautiful, and I can’t help but grin at the proud arrogance that Tigris finally possesses.

“When I was a babe I fell down in the holler

When I was a girl I fell into your arms. We fell on hard times and we lost our bright color.

You went to the dogs and I lived by my charms. I danced for my dinner, spread kisses like honey. You stole and you gambled and I said you should. We sang for our suppers and we drank up our money.

Then one day you left, saying I was no good

Well, all right, I'm bad, but then, you're no prize either. All right, I'm bad, but then, that's nothing new. You say you won't love me, well I won't love you neither.

Just let me remind you who I am to you

'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. And I am the one who knows how you were brave. And I am the one who knows what you said sleeping, I'll take that and more when I go to my grave.

It's sooner than later that I'm six feet under It's sooner than later that you'll be alone. So who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder, For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own

For when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own I am the one who you let see you weeping I know the soul that you struggle to save.

Too bad I'm the bet that you lost in the reaping. Now what will you do when I go to my grave?”

As Lucy Gray finishes the song everyone had hoped she would sing, tears fill the eyes of each person in the emergency room, including my own.

“That was… beautiful.” Tigris sniffles.

“Lucy Gray surely knows how to put on a show.”

“Coryo!” I gasp, jumping into his arms as he stumbles, almost falling back onto the floor before stabling himself and embracing me with mirrored passion. Though, he could never begin to understand how grateful I am that he’s awake. There would not be a moment during the remainder of my miserable life that I would forgive myself or Sejanus for getting him killed.

“I-“ I begin, my eyes swelling with tears, “Thank you for waking up.”

“It was the least I could do,” He laughs weakly. I finally gain the courage to release him to allow Tigris and the Grandma’am to cherish his awakening.

I turn to face the television screen again, closing my eyes and exhaling the deepest sigh of relief.

I have to come clean. I have to tell Coriolanus about what Sejanus and I did, and what he intends on continuing to do. I haven’t decided whether or not I could bear to resume helping the rebels after what they did, or almost did, to Coryo, but admitting my crimes to him will be the last and final declaration that I am done.

After the pleasantries with his family cease, he places his arms around my neck and traps me in a tight embrace, a cheesy grin plastered on his face.

Oh, how that smile would have faded had he known how he got into this situation in the first place. But for now, I just gratefully accept it, leaning my head onto the side of his, and wrapping my arms around the ones he holds below my neck.

“I heard you sent the peacekeepers after me.”

“And I heard Lucy Gray rescued you from beneath a fiery beam,” I smirk, raising my brows. “I suppose we’re both hearing things.”

“Suppose so.”

His gaze lingers on mine, or rather mine on his. I’ve never been so thankful to see those annoyingly piercing blue eyes and perfect locks of blonde hair. “Can you guys give us a moment?” I turn back to Tigris, who nods with a smile and immediately grabs the Grandma’am’s hand, both of them taking their leave. “So,” I smile anxiously, untangling his hands from my body and moving to sit in the same waiting chair I’ve sat in for the past 48 hours.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know how to say this-“ My words tremble, threatening to collapse at any moment.

“Are you alright?” He quickly takes a seat on his hospital bed, truly interested in whatever I may say next. I can visibly see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to piece together what I’ll say next before I’m granted the words to say it.

I also, try to construct my next sentence before saying it aloud, not sure how to tell him it’s my fault he almost got killed. I don’t waste time apologizing and try my best to blink back the tears that now gloss my eyes. He doesn’t care about this performance I feel as though I’m putting on, I just-

“I think I’ve involved myself with the rebels,” I whisper, almost inaudible.

“You- what?”

“I know.” I correct, “I know I’ve involved myself with the rebels. I-“ Tears descend my cheeks, but I ignore their presence, as does Coriolanus, “I put the bombs in the area.”

He stared at me, eyes wide in confusion.

“You?”

“I wanted to tell you this morning,” I whimper, “That I regretted it, that I needed your help to fix my mistakes but I was so scared Coryo-“

“No-“ He stands, backing away from me. “You can’t- you shouldn’t have- do you understand the position you’ve just trapped me in?” His voice slightly raises before he registers the darted glances being sent toward himself, “You’ve involved me just as much as you’ve involved yourself by telling me this! What do you expect me to do? Report you?”

“No- Well- maybe that’s what I expected you to do but I hoped you wouldn’t!”

“And Sejanus?” He orders, “I’m sure your little vitiated district boyfriend is the one who dragged you into this mess?”

As much as I would like to blame anyone but myself in this moment of vulnerability, I can’t.

“He was the one who begged me to stay out of it,” I mutter, eyes peering to the floor.

“Why-“

“Shhh!” A nearby nurse shushed, uses a single remote to collectively heighten the volume of all five televisions in the room.

“And one last message before we let you all go for the night!” Caesar Flickerman announces gleefully, he touches his earpiece to hear for himself what the announcement may be. His eyes widen with shock, and then fade to melancholy. “Well folks, I’ve just been given word that the 10th annual Hunger Games will still be commencing! In two days, don’t miss it! Thank you all and have a-“

The world around me fades into a blur as my heart sinks to the deepest pits of my stomach. If I had eaten anything more than a few sips of cabbage soup today, I’m sure I would vomit it up at this very moment. I struggle to find air to inhale before the confidence of Coriolanus’ claim snaps me back to reality.

“I presume that’s why you did it? To stop the games?”

“That’s why I did it, yes,” I state blankly.

“But not them?”

“They wanted to irritate the Capital.”

“Us.” He corrects bitterly, “We are the Capital, Lia, they wanted to irritate us, don’t let yourself forget it.”

“It all seems so pointless, now. To irritate the capital, to almost lose you, to become a traitor, for what? For my tribute to be dead, Marcus to be missing, and the games to continue?”

“What?”

“I’ll see you at home, Coriolanus.” I push myself out of my chair, leaving him alone in the dullness of the hospital room.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I wipe my tear-filled eyes, though I’m sure the red and puffiness of them is not concealable.

“You should’ve known better.” Coriolanus reprimands for the tenth time this morning. I desperately long for our walk to the Academy together, where we’ll be in public and he can’t shame me any longer. “I mean really, what were you thinking?”

“That I could make a difference, Coryo. Is that so hard to digest?”

“You need to stay away from Sejanus. He’s filling your mind with these fantasies! That’s all they are!” He slams his bag down on the kitchen counter, stuffing it full of the few snacks he was able to collect for Lucy Gray, “You think that these creatures are like us and they’re not. They are district, you are Capital!”

“We’re people! Is Lucy Gray a creature? I see how you look at her Coriolanus. How your gaze lingers on her from across the room. You’re the creature! You’re a venomous snake who’s going to squeeze the life out of that poor songbird and I’m not going to be around to see it!”

“You almost got me killed, Magnolia.” He shouts. “And I’m the creature?”

“You’re going to wake the others up.” I deflect, knowing Tigris didn’t get much sleep last night. She hasn’t slept since the bombing, too worried for Coryo. Of course, he doesn’t give a damn about her or anyone else who has the displeasure of knowing him.

“You know what? You’re right!” He exclaims, refusing to change the subject, “You won’t be around to see it, and neither will Sejanus. If neither of you can follow a simple set of instructions or at least pretend to carry the ideology the Capital requires of you then you’ll be hung for your rebel crimes!”

“Coriolanus!” Tigris reprimands, rushing into the room just as he slams the front door behind himself.

I crumble to the floor, burying my head into my bruised knees.

“Oh, Magnolia,” Tigris comforts. She wraps her arms around me in a warm hug, brushing her fingers through my hair as I cry into her shoulder, “He would never report you to anyone for anything. I don’t know what it is that you guys are bickering about but everything shall pass with time. I promise.”

Her quiet assurances and physical touch have transformed my muffled sobs into soft gasps for air that come in waves. She releases me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and kissing the top of my head. “I’m off to work, love, but please don’t take Coryo’s empty threats seriously. He would report you just as soon as reporting me, or Grandma’am.

She grabs her purse and quickly rushes out of the door as if she were not half an hour late to work because of me.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The chill of the fresh morning air has turned the apartment damp, the humidity causing me to sweat due to our broken ventilation system.

I pick myself up from the floor, dragging my feet to the miraculously functioning phone that hangs next to the doorway that connects the kitchen and living room.

Today is the mentors' last day with their tributes before they’re thrown into the Arena and forced to become the creatures everyone believes them to be. The only people who have no purpose of reporting to the Academy are Androcles, Guis Breen, Sejanus, and myself, since all of our tributes were killed before the games even started, so I expect they should all be home.

I dial the number Sejanus had me memorize the second he let me involve myself with the Rebels and await the ringing to stop.

“Hello?” A voice deeper than the one Sejanus possesses answers.

“Good..” I drag out, looking at my watch to decipher the time, “Afternoon, Mr Plinth! Is Sejanus home?”

“Sejanus!” He shouts as footsteps patter to the phone, “Here he is.”

“Maggy?” My heart warms, the nickname my mother used to refer to me serving like morphing to the pain. The only time I ever hear the name anymore is in the presence of Sejanus, every other Capital student refusing to call me it. Even Coryo claims that it sounded too district, resulting in my new, more widely used nickname, Lia.

“Sejanus,” I smile, feeling like I’ve been granted a breath of fresh air just through the sound of his voice. I don’t want to spoil the rare happiness and can’t talk about the rebels through our likely monitored phone conversations anyway, “Please come over?”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

The line disconnects and I move to the front door that he meets me at less than ten minutes later. He doesn’t live very close to us, but his car of the latest Capital technology allows him to travel at the highest of speeds, making it here in record-breaking time.

When his knock sounds at the door, I realize that he’s never been inside the Snow apartment before, and wonder if I’m crossing the simplest of lines by having him over.

I shake the thoughts from my head, opening the door and allowing him inside with very little confidence.

“Hey,” He smiles, wrapping his arms around me before closing the door with his leg and following my lead to the living room.

“Maybe we should meet at your house from this point on,” I suggest, shifting uncomfortably as he takes a seat on the cold marble ground next to me. Not a single piece of furniture decorates this bland space except for the TV sitting on a run-down coffee table. Almost all of it was gone upon my arrival, Tigris explaining that it all had to be either sold or thrown into their fireplace amidst the war just to grant them the barest of food and warmth.

“The war hit us, or- them pretty harshly.” He nods considerately, seemingly paying no attention to the interior of the room. “What’s wrong?”

“I just- feel awful.” He sighs, hiding his face in his hands, “Both of our tributes are as good as dead, the Ring twins are in the hospital, we almost killed Coriolanus, and for what? For the games to continue anyways?”

“I know.” I adjust my body to be leaning against the side of his as he slips his hand into mine. I debate whether or not I should tell him about my quarrel with Coriolanus this morning, in turn, admitting to having revealed our part in the Rebel bombing, risking both of our deaths.

“Are you alright?” Sejanus’ gaze lingers on my tear-stained face, his thumb rising to caress my puffy undereyes.

“I just didn’t take the news well, is all.”

“Me neither, it’s just sickening! I barely got any sleep last night, couldn’t close my eyes without picturing Sabyn’s warm lifeless body. The peacekeepers cared more about shooting her dead than helping to keep others alive! And then Marcus! Condemned to a life of torture should he be caught.”

“He won’t be.”

“He will be. He has nowhere to go, no place to hide, and thousands of people on the lookout for him every day. I just hope his death is quick.”

The mood of the room falls flat, neither of us knowing how to recover from such a dim topic so quickly, so neither of us does. Instead, I give in to the heftiness of my eyelids, allowing myself to gain full support from Sejanus’ body as he rests himself against the wall behind us.

He buries his hand in my full head of hair, massaging the migraine he didn’t even know existed until my eyes can’t keep themselves open any longer.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I startle at the sound of a door slamming shut, barely catching a glimpse of Coriolanus’ hefty blonde curls swooshing from the harsh swing of the door.

I shake Sejanus, who leans against the wall with his head angled up and an arm wrapped protectively around my body.

“Hey- I’m sorry to wake you but I’ll be right back, okay?” I jump to my feet, already starting towards the door, “I’ve gotta- I’ll be right back.”

What time is it?

Through the windows I swiftly pass by, I examine how the sun begins to set over the horizon, estimating how much of the shining circle still soars above the skyline. I approximate it’s about 5 o’clock. meaning we slept for 3 hours.

“Coryo!” I call, catching sight of him shooting down the complex stairs. “Coryo please wait!” How was he off mentor duty so early? I didn’t expect him to arrive back home until at least nine. Not that my unconscious body would’ve known the difference between now and then, but still, it could’ve bought me some time.

Mere inches away from his escape, Coriolanus gets stopped by an older woman, and panting from his long walk he bends down to pick something up that she seems to have dropped.

“Thank you, son.” She breathes feebly as he hands the magazine showcasing Lucy Gray’s face back to her.

“Coriolanus.” I wheeze, “You almost forgot about me!”

“Oh, you too have fun.” The woman knowingly smiles, retreating to her room before we can allow ourselves to speak freely.

“I’m sorry it’s not-“

I slightly anticipate him to make a run for it, but instead, he just extends his arm, willing me to wrap mine around it, and continues walking through the front doors of the apartment complex, leaving me utterly speechless.

“What was Sejanus Plinth doing inside of the Snow house?”

I begin to plead my case, before truly wondering, what was Sejanus doing? All we had done was confide in each other over our guilty consciencees. Why had I called him in the first place? Knowing the solemnity of our situation, I feel rather dull for allowing him over and realize that I really should’ve listened to Coriolanus.

I watch the gears behind his eyes, turning as he plans out his entire stance in this difficult situation. Will he report me? Will he cause a scene? How will he protect himself from my rebellious mistakes?

Suddenly, I realize how Coriolanus constantly finds himself in such a wide pool of success.

“I want to report him,” I mutter, peering over my shoulder to make sure nobody’s listening to us. He eyes me conspicuously. “There’s nothing to trace his crimes back to me. Not a phone call, not an item, nothing. Only his word against mine.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, a glimpse of hope glimmering in his eyes.

“I’m sure. And if the Capital discovers my part in the bombing,” I pause, bracing myself, “I’ll be hung and that will be that.”

The statement itself sends shivers down my spine, threatening to turn my legs into jello, I won’t allow that to happen. Nor will I let them hang Sejanus. He’s never belonged in this district and he’s helped me realize that neither do I. I’ll come with Coriolanus to report Sejanus on my terms, hopefully buying us enough time to escape this hell before they can tie his noose.

“What caused this sudden change of heart?”

“I realized in my time spent with him today, that not only is he a danger to our home, but he’s a danger to me as well. I never meant to get involved as much as I did and can’t continue to risk my entire being just to help him any longer. He’s chosen his life.”

Coriolanus nods approvingly. “All these years, he’s longed for us to forget where he came from. Wanted us to pretend he was one of us, and it wasn’t to spite him that we couldn’t. It was his attitude that didn’t allow us to see past him being district.” I smile in genuine agreement, reminiscing on my absolute favorite trait that Sejanus possesses, and find myself almost envious. Sejanus never let the Capital ruin him.

“Well, not everyone can live up to Capital standards. Most capital born won’t ever amount to us.”

He chuckles, the security of having Coriolanus by my side numbing the previous helpless feeling.

“I’ll tell Dr Gaul everything I know and pray she takes my information for what it is, and nothing more. Sejanus will be hung, and he will die, along with the troubles he poisons our lives with.”

“So you blame him entirely for your little rebellion phase?”

“Well, I believe everyone has to dip their foot into the other puddle before you truly stop wondering if it’s clearer, Sejanus just helped to mud the dirt.”

I almost feel guilty for talking about Sejanus in this manner, though I speak in gallons of truth, hiding drops of lies amongst them. Coryo isn’t stupid he’s one of the brightest people I know, emotionally and intelligently. Something inside of him just knows things, and a full lie can’t deceive him, but an almost truth might. I do believe that you’ll never stop longing for rebellion until you try it for yourself, but what I don’t tell Coriolanus, is that I also believe that sometimes you might find that the puddle in question is clearer. A clearer, bigger, better, more humane puddle that can save you from everything that burdens you in life may just be waiting for you to dip your foot in, and when you do you’ll never rid of the dirt.

So yes, though Sejanus is to fault for my rebellion phase, and I blame him entirely, I owe him nothing short of my life for it.

The sun is no longer brightening the sky by the time we reach the citadel. I wonder if Doctor Gaul will even be here so late in the night, but Coryo seems certain she will be.

“We’d like to speak with Doctor Gaul.” He tells the peacekeeper guarding the elevator, “It’s urgent.”

The peacekeeper touches the side of his head, seemingly listening in to orders from his earpiece.

“Go ahead. Level -10.” He scans his card and the elevator dings open, inviting us inside. As soon as we’ve both stepped through the door, it slams shut and plummets down, hitting our destination in under ten seconds flat.

“Are you alright?” Coriolanus assures, slightly winded himself.

“Yeah.”

We step into the overbearingly white laboratory, passing cages filled with different failed Capital mutations. I stand as close to the center of the aisle as I can, avoiding a personal view of the enclosures as I brush against Coriolanus’s protective build.

“Pitter patter, the blood goes splatter, and a rebel fought war will be lost i’m….” She trails off.

“Sure.” Coriolanus finishes, “Will be lost, I’m sure.”

She turns to face us from her platform, clapping delightedly. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Does she know why we’ve come? Or is it just an ordinary day in the laboratory when she makes up unnerving Rebel rhymes?

“What for?” I inquire, confidently.

“Coriolanus owes me a paper.”

I turn to him and he nods as if in remembrance, “Yes, I do, though that’s not why we’ve decided to visit.”

“Then what’s the cause?”

He falls back, signaling for me to take full control of the situation, something he doesn’t offer up very often.

“You’re familiar with the mentor, and student, Sejanus Plinth, are you not?”

“I am.”

“Well, I deeply regret to inform you that he’s been,” I falter, unable to phrase my accusation, “dealing with rebels.”

“Oh?” She grins viciously, descending the steps of her platform and approaching Coriolanus and me.

“I know not entirely of his Rebel associations, but am certain that he aided them in the planting of bombs in the arena.”

Her piercing green eyes inspect every aspect of my face, searching for a hint of what emotion I must be feeling.

After a long moment, she finally declares, “We had our suspicions. Though, it is improbable that he was working alone. Are you informed of any other rebels hidden amongst the Capital?”

“No ma’am.”

“Coriolanus?”

“Hadn’t a clue that rebels were still amid the Capital until today.” He almost truths.

“Well, you must’ve assumed.”

“I could’ve.” He considers, “Though it entirely slipped my mind.”

“Well,” She smiles, “Thank you for your confirmation. Your sacrifice means a great deal to your Capital, and I hope you will inform us of any information you may come across in the future.”

“Of course,” I return warmly, “Good night, Dr Gaul.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Our walk back home was too silent, almost eerily. We had barely made it back to the apartment when a storm of peacekeepers rushed past and I remembered the vulnerable state that I left Sejanus in. Half asleep, and in my own home without a single advance on what I was planning.

What if they already found him? What if his noose is being tied as we speak? What if-

“Everything alright?” Coriolanus incredulously pesters.

“Yep.”

That is all I can manage. Something feels very wrong. An anxiety-induced hole bubbles in the pits of my stomach as I try to maintain my composure. Coriolanus can’t know that I’m worried about Sejanus… or maybe I could play into that role. An innocent friend who knows she’s done the right thing but still can’t seem to digest the gravity of the situation. Will he think me weak? Will he believe a word I say?

I consider the performance I may execute, before realizing how similar to Coriolanus I feel in this very moment. Calculating, gears turning, trying to analyze every piece of my affairs while simultaneously attempting to feed the impression of innocence.

Is Coriolanus performing? Pretending to believe and support every lie I present him with just to double back at the last second? Or does he have no concept of the truth behind my motives?

I liven my pace, acting as though out of pure interest though really in concern for Sejanus’ well-being, and desire to escape the constant agonizing burden that is Coriolanus Snow.

I hear his feet patter behind me, the tempo of his steps quickening as mine accelerate. He’s chasing me. He knows. He knows that I never intended on allowing Sejanus to be hung for his- our crimes, and he doesn’t intend on his life being spared.

I’m full-fledged sprinting now, desperately dodging people as well as random rubble that lines the streets. Am I trying to save Sejanus or escape Coryo? Either way, I don’t relent, darting through the electric doors of our apartment complex and shooting up the stairs. He’s on my tail, a mere arm's length away as I shove into the Snow household and startle awake.

I lay strapped to a hospital bed in the overly white laboratory room. Blinking in owlish incomprehension, I slightly tilt my head as much as the big machine attached to it will permit, and squint my eyes to make out an unconscious Sejanus, the top of his scalp removed entirely from his head as a machine scans his brain.

My head pounds and the blinding lights force my eyes shut, i’m left blind as hands prod at different pieces of my limbs.

I squirm disobediently in my best attempts to be free of the shackles I’ve worn for the past 3 days. For a mere moment the memories come flooding back as tears descend my cheeks.

The night that Sejanus and I had chosen to plant bombs in the arena, had coincidentally been the same night Coriolanus had wanted to sneak in for himself, in search of good hiding places for Lucy Gray. None of which existed until the bombs went off- except they never did. Coriolanus turned on us before anyone else had ever unsafely entered the place.

I recall seeing the gears turning in his mind as he toyed with the though of giving us a second chance, but he never did like how personal my relations were with him. How familiar I was with his way of thought, or how close I was to discovering his genuine self.

Now they spend their days testing our brains, digging through our memories, warping them for research, trying to find the rebels who gave us the bombs in the first place. But whoever granted them to us made sure they could never be traced. They knew we were likely to fail, it’s almost as if they willed it to happen.

A needle jabs through my shoulder, morphing soothing the headache that I felt only moments ago, as the world fades away along with the remembrance of Sejanus and I’s new reality.

Upon entering the room, I find an unconscious Sejanus, sleeping exactly where I left him, entirely oblivious to the tragedy that almost awaited us and exhale a sigh of relief.

[0-0katie0-0]

I just woke up from a nightmare.

(Trigger warning ahead for self-harm so please proceed with caution)

This does have place on my blog, the dumb slut stuff comes in at the end so I suggest reading through to the end.

I was in my room and I discovered a playlist that was very popular on spotify. I loved this playlist and I listened to it almost constantly. Then I noticed some message that began to seep through and my mind instantly caught onto it.

This message…it was telling me to hurt myself. It was telling me to harm and…hurt myself in a way I couldn’t turn back from. It was horrifying.

It turned out that this was a playlist created and used by demons to get into people’s heads. To tell them what to do, and tell them to…harm themselves. I know, it’s dark.

I realized my brother was outside of my room, and decided to give it a listen as well. Him and I started to aee shadows and soon they were very clearly demons, but still in a shadowy way. My mother started feeling depressed, and I had to comfort her and tell her it was okay.

My brother had given in, but not in the self-harm way. The demon had possessed him and all source of my brother was gone. Remember, only him and I were able to see these demons and my mother could not.

I stayed with my mother on our living room couch, hugging her as I cried into her arms and she comforted me. The demons were telling me things like how she didn’t care and my mother was harmful to my life, but I defied them all. What I had to do was truly believe the opposite of what they were saying, and then they’d burn away to ashes.

Eventually, I defeated all of the demons and was comforting my mother against them. She got so far and then it started possessing her, but she still fought to it didn’t take hold completely like it did with my brother. I heard the demons voice come from her, and hugged her tightly whispering in her ear how everything’s going to be alright.

She did overcome the demons as well, with a lot of struggle and my help, and we went to sleep. I went back to my room and she did hers.

All of my demons weren’t gone.

During my sleep, I started having dreams of being fucked and loving it. I dreamt of having a big huge cock plunging in and out of me, feeling absolutely amazing. I was so in deep with this that I woke up and instantly went to my bathroom and fucked myself with my dildo. A man opened my bathroom door and I begged him to fuck me with his huge cock.

He was fucking me so hard, for real this time, and I was in heaven. He used my mouth and my pussy so well and I was completely cockdrunk. He came inside of me and I wanted more.

I went to the local bar and every man used me to his content. At this point, I knew I was facing the last demon but didn’t care. I gave in and became just a helpless slut, taking human and demon cocks alike. I could still fight the demon but no part of me wanted this to stop.

(Now I’ve woken up from the nightmare/dream)

My brain must’ve realized how in pain and fear I was and decided to change my horrific nightmare into some brainwashing hypnotic slutty bliss.

I’m so grateful for tumblr and brainwashing and hypno, and how much I’ve been edging and rubbing and dumbing myself down. Who knows how lonf I would’ve been in that nightmare if it didn’t suddenly shift into erotic gorgeousness.

My point is, even if you take long to dumb yourself down in your everyday life, believe me your subconscious is taking every but of it in.