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#I hope you had a wonderful beautiful day celebrating!!!
zkaus · 1 day
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At the back of my copy of The Vampire Armand, there's an old interview with Anne Rice talking about creating that novel. I've never forgotten her answer to one of the questions... It haunted me for years.
It gives incredible insight into how and why she wrote such beautiful, brutal and broken characters, and what she endured in the creation process.
BUT before you read this, I'm going to STRONGLY warn you, it goes to very very DARK places
Q: What are your work habits for a novel?
A: Once I truly begin to write, I work obsessively, in twelve-hour days, punctuated by days of long sleep and vivid dreaming. Starting time and ending time are no longer important. I might begin at 9 A.M., or after noon or at eight in the evening. I go from there. I turn on the computer and write, write, write.
My room is a mess. Notes are scribbled on the walls so that I can look up at them at the appropriate moments and insert the date, the name, whatever, when I need it. Books are stacked so high that people have to search for me when they come into the room. Opened books with marked-up pages are stacked on top of one another.
I become suicidal. I go through a horrid despair some time or other before the final page, during which everything seems meaningless—from the dawn of history to the very hour in which I am writing.
I’m intolerable to live with. But I spread myself thin over a number of loved ones and staff members so that no one person has to put up with how intense, hysterical, and miserable I am.
When I get elated and talk fast and furiously about wonderful aspects of history or the characters, or good developments in the story, people run away from me. I don’t blame them.
While the novel is being written, I try to avoid dressing for outdoors. No one can make you go out if you don’t have shoes on. Not even in the south. I wear long velvet robes and soft velvet slippers. I refuse to go out. All food is brought in. I eat hamburgers because they are easy to hold with one hand while reading and holding the book with the other hand.
In the middle of the night I read, sometimes on the carpeted floor of the bathroom, just because it’s warm. I am wretched. I don’t care anymore about being abnormal. Writing is everything. Everything. It seems impossible to write the book. It seems impossible to lift a hairbrush to brush my hair. But I do it. I put on mascara every day that I write.
This period of intense work lasts about six weeks. It’s best that way. My imagination is overheated, and my memory clogged with data of varying importance. If I go over six weeks, I begin to forget things; I feel the loss of intensity and information and I become all the more self-destructive and obsessed.
The end of the book is a big event for me. A big event. I start screaming. I put the hour and the date at the end of the last page. I expect everybody to understand, at least a little. It’s a triumph! The darkness of destiny has been driven back for a brief while. I celebrate. I scream, eat chocolate, and sleep.
Right near the end of writing The Vampire Armand, I realized I had to return to Italy, especially to Florence, and at once I began to make preparations for the trip. As soon as the novel was finished and off to the publisher’s, as soon as it could be accomplished, I flew to Italy. That gave me hope, a way out of a life threatening darkness that often follows the climax of a book. But I still ate chocolate and screamed.
While writing, I don’t want to rest. I don’t want to sleep. Why sleep? It seems stupid, except when weariness overcomes me like a giant cloud of poisonous vapor. Then I sleep fifteen to twenty hours. I tell people to go in and out of the bedroom and ignore me lying there, as if I were dead. I won’t talk on the phone. I won’t open my eyes if I don’t have to. I dream terrible, upsetting dreams.
I want to kill myself. But I can’t. I can’t do it to other people, and I have work that must be done, novels that must be written. So I don’t kill myself. Besides, I don’t think it’s good to kill oneself. It’s a horrible idea. It has a horrible effect even on acquaintances.
I think a lot about people I loved who are dead. I think of how dead they are, year after year, ever more dead.
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(CW: canon-typical warnings for the game In Stars and Time, also spoilers)
The village of Bambouche is completely silent at this hour of the night, even after all the ruckus of the evening. It won’t be long before the fishers are up, getting to work before the sun rises, but for now the whole town is catching what few hours of sleep they can.
Lucky for them, you think, staring up at the wooden ceiling.
It’s not like you aren’t tired. When you finally got there, the village cooked up a feast for you and your family members, and the celebrations went on for hours. It was fun! And you finally got to meet Bonnie’s sister! Bonnie was so happy, and that made you happy too. After such a long and fun day, you're ready for some rest.
But…
Every time you close your eyes. You remember.
You aren’t sure why you can’t stop thinking about it. Maybe it’s because it was such a busy day. You don’t have the energy to stop yourself from thinking about things you don’t want to think about. If you can just get some rest, then you’ll be able to ignore it again.
Maybe it’s because you’re not in the same room with everyone. It’s nice to be in a real bed after weeks on the road, but the rooms the villagers had to offer were too small to fit everyone. So Bonnie isn’t here. To remind you that they’re fine. If they were here, it would be fine.
Maybe it’s because every time you saw Bonnie looking so happy, you flinched, because… because how could this be real? You’ve never seen them that happy before. What if it was just a dream? What if it all got taken away again? What if somehow you loop back and you’re there with the King and Bonnie is—Bonnie is—
You feel fingertips gently brush against your hand. You flinch, but don’t pull away. Instead, you turn your head to the side.
Isabeau is watching you from his side of the bed, a concerned crease in his eyebrows. He blinks a few times, like he’s just woken up.
You realize your hands are shaking.
You smile. “What’s up, Isa?”
Isabeau frowns at you. He seems to hesitate, then slowly shifts to fully cover your hand with his. “Sif, are you okay?” he asks, his voice quiet.
“I’m fine.” The words roll off your tongue as easily as breathing. Your hands are still shaking.
Isabeau looks at you for a moment, then sighs, blinking the last of the sleep out of his eyes. “Let’s try that again. What’s wrong, Sif?”
“Nothing! Really, there’s nothing wrong.”
“Sif.”
“Why would anything be wrong? It’s been a really fun night! Everyone here is so nice.”
“Sif!”
“And we found Bonnie’s sister, and we’re still together, and Bonnie’s happy and fine and everything’s fine—”
“Siffrin!”
The harshness in Isabeau’s tone cuts you off with a jolt. He softens immediately, meeting your wide eyes with a worried gaze. “You’re doing it again,” he says quietly.
What does he… Oh. Right.
You are. Of course you are. Why did you think you would change? Why did you think that somehow, after all this, you would do better? Be better?
You swallow down the thought. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Just tell him what’s going on. It won’t kill you.
“It’s—nothing, really, I’m just—I keep remembering something that happened. During one of the loops.” You exhale. “It didn’t stick, so it doesn’t really matter.”
Isabeau’s hand is still resting on top of yours. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.
“No.”
“Okay. But you’re gonna anyways, right?” Isabeau says, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “For your ol’ pal Isabeau?”
There’s a beat, but you can’t quite hold back the snort that escapes you. “My “ol’ pal”? Is that what you are?”
“Your ol’ pal,” he repeats with a grin. “Your best bro. Your good homie. Your bosom buddy. Just two guys who share a bed and hold hands in the middle of the night.”
You laugh, and his face lights up like he’s won the lottery. He’s beautiful.
You wonder if he’ll ever stop looking at you like that. You hope not.
The quiet of the night presses back down on you. You can feel his gaze still on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes anymore.
“Tell me about what happened?” he asks again, his voice soft.
You breathe in, and out. “There was—” you start hesitantly. “In that loop, we—the King was—I couldn’t—”
Each word feels like pulling teeth. You can’t get it out. He’s watching you, waiting, and you want to tell him, but it’s all lodged in your throat, it’s stuck, and if you pull it out, if you say it, it will make it real—
No. No, you can do this. Start somewhere else.
“I had been… trying to learn more about the King,” you manage. Slowly, carefully, you start unwinding the story from there. You tell him about how you needed to learn more about Time Craft. About how you started talking to the King when you fought him. About how you realized the King was from the island north of Vaugarde. From your country. About how you thought you could reason with him, since you understood him. You talk, and he listens, nodding along as the words spill out of you and into the night. You build the story up, letting yourself be swept along as you tell him everything that happened, everything that led up to that point, and then…
And then you tell him.
The words aren’t lodged in your throat any more. They’re the opposite, pushing and falling over each other in a desperate rush to get out. You can hear the quaver of fear in your own voice as you describe what the King did, what he did to Bonnie, and you know you’re saying too much now, he doesn’t need to hear all this detail, but you can’t stop. You can’t stop until all the words come pouring out of you, one long torrential rush that finally, slowly, tapers away.
You look up at him.
Isabeau is staring right at you. Completely horrified.
You’re a monster you’re disgusting how could you do this why would you tell him you let Bonnie die! You let Bonnie die! You’re disgusting you’re awful you shouldn’t have told him now he hates you, he’ll never look at you like that again, he hates you, because you let Bonnie die you let Bonnie die and it was your fault your fault your fault your fault your fau—
Warmth suddenly envelopes you. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Isabeau, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in tight against him. You can feel wetness on his cheek.
“Sif…” he says, his voice hoarse. “I’m so, so sorry.”
You don’t answer. You don’t know how to answer. What is he sorry for? Sorry because he can’t stand to look at you anymore? Sorry because he’s going to leave?
But he doesn’t leave. If anything, he holds you tighter. 
You have to ask. That’s what you’re supposed to do now, isn’t it? You have to ask, so he can tell you, and you can get it over with.
“Isa…” you whisper.
He pulls back suddenly, and you shiver as the cold air surrounds you again. “Sorry, was that not okay?” he asks. “I know you’re still not used to touch but I just couldn’t… after hearing that…” He trails off as he takes in the look on your face.
Your hands are shaking again. “Do you hate me?” you whisper.
“No,” he answers, immediately and firmly. “No, Sif. That wasn’t your fault. The King was a monster, but he’s gone now. And Bonnie is safe.” His eyes are starting to well with tears again, but he presses on. “Bonnie is safe. But I’m sorry you had to go through that, Sif. It must have been horrible. I…” He seems to run out of words, but he must have seen something in your face, because he leans in again, wrapping his arms back around you. Slowly, this time, giving you space to pull away.
You don’t pull away. You reach around him and grab fistfuls of his shirt, clinging on tight.
He’s murmuring something against your hair. You can’t make out the words anymore, but you don’t think it really matters. Just the sound is enough.
It feels like there’s a clamp around your throat, tightening with every breath. Your eyes sting. But you don’t cry. You don’t think you can, yet. Those tears will be even harder to get out than the words.
But you managed the words.
And your family is still here.
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misakarose · 2 years
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"Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one."            ↳ Gojo Satoru ✧ dedicated to Kay~ (@kyaa-a)
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godblooded · 2 years
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honestly? craven’s death hit me, but losing kevin conroy hit me.
#ooc. king of unpopular opinions.#[you know how kids in abusive situations with a single parent tend to project the missing parent through fictional characters?#Bruce was my very first dad. Bruce was my very first best friend. Batman was my very first hero. kevin conroy was the very first male figure#I felt positively influenced by who wasn’t my papou. and that was just through his voice. he gave me so much. he gave me hope. he gave me a#man who would hold my hand when I was frightened with pointy ears in a suit. he gave me the understanding that healing was possible.#he made me comprehend that found family meant as much it not more than biological. he influenced the Bruce I would and do write so much.#I never got to meet him at a comic con but frankly I got a smile and a wave walking by and that was enough for me. just take .5 seconds of#the good vibes because I can never repay the hope and the love you gave me through just your voice mr. conroy.#Btas bruce was my first bruce. my favorite bruce. my always bruce. my hero.#that bruce made me feel exactly what the bat stands for— hope. love. wonder. happiness. belief in dark places.#that bruce taught me to find the beauty in even the darkest places. encouraged me to never feel afraid of my own darkness.#encouraged me to understand sadness and hurt were okay. they had to be handled. worked through. with help. with love.#everything he stood for was beautiful. everything he put into bruce was his heart and soul and so he touched mine. deeply.#thank you for everything k. conroy. it doesn’t escape me that I decided on my bat tattoo a day before you died. i believe in the importance#of coincidence. now I just want to incorporate a tribute in it. I wonder if I can commission my artist to do the hanging btas suit…]#death /#death mention /#celebrity death /
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lovebugism · 5 months
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istg that “just because you’re beautiful and a good kisser does not mean i forgive you.” “you think i’m beautiful?” is sooooo eddie coded.
i'm picturing a sorta enemies to lovers with eddie pulling yet another prank on reader (we all know this boy has the emotional maturity of a five year old when it comes to making a move on the girl he likes) but he really does hurt her feelings this time so he tries to make it up to her and they end up kissing.
from what you've written before i think you could put a great spin on this sorta scenario, if you feel like it <3
hope you like it! :D — you're eddie munson's biggest enemy. and, yes, you're also his soulmate. (enemies to lovers, secret relationship, 0.9k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
You storm into the bustling lunch room, having traded your pretty corseted blouse for a piece of oversized Corroded Coffin merch — definitely not by choice. “Do you have a death wish?” you ask when you reach the Hellfire table at the very back of the cafeteria, zeroed in on its leader at the head of it.
Eddie turns slowly, blinking up at you with innocent button eyes. His chews through the hamburger wadded in his cheek. “Potentially,” he answers, muffled before he swallows it down.
You huff, too easily frustrated. It isn’t any wonder why he likes to mess with you so much. “Where are my clothes?” 
“The ones you left on my bedroom floor last night or…?”
“No, you idiot— The clothes you stole from the girl’s locker room. Which makes you a total perv, by the way.”
“Oh, that sexy little number?” he croons, turning in his seat to face you more. “It’s in my locker, actually.”
“Well, get it out,” you say with gritted teeth.
He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips to the side. “Hm… I don’t think I will.”
Your jaw tightens. “Why?”
“‘Cause it’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”
“Well, yeah, that’s kinda the point, Munson.”
He smacks his lips against his teeth, then scrunches the bridge of his nose. He wags a sarcastic, ringed finger at you. “See— Those aren’t the values a nice girl like you should have—”
“God, you’re infuriating,” you groan and stomp off again.
Eddie smiles to himself while he watches you go, cheek tilted lazily to his shoulder. The only thing he likes better than seeing you come (in more ways than one) is watching you leave.
He sighs a deep, contented sigh and turns back to the rest of the table. They’re all wide-eyed and silent, still musing on the sudden interaction with the disbelief that it had happened at all.
Eddie only grins, wider this time. “Ah… She’s obsessed with me.”
—————
By the end of the school day, your blouse hasn’t yet been returned to you. You’re still stuck in the stupid shirt Eddie had left for you — all black, too big, and obviously his. You know it belongs to him because you’ve worn it thousands of times while sleeping over at his place. It smells just like him, like weed and cologne and boy.
You’re heading towards the exits when a hand pulls you into an abandoned classroom around the corner — pale, ringed, and lanky. As if you needed any further confirmation it was Eddie Munson. 
You stumble in, and he locks it behind you.
“Don’t you think you’ve bothered me enough today?” you squint.
“Oh, so you don’t want your shirt back?” he teases, waving the thing in his free hand. You reach for it, and he snatches it back, smirking softly down at you. “Uh-uh. What’s the magic word, sweetheart.”
“Give me my shirt back,” you answer in a monotone.
“Not even close, but I’ll give you a kiss for it.”
You sigh like it’s a chore for you and lean in to kiss his cheek. Your lips just barely graze his stubbly jaw. Eddie shrugs. “You missed, but I’m feeling nice today, so—”
You snatch it from him when he hands it to you. “You can’t keep doing this, Eds. We’re supposed to hate each other.”
“Well, one, we do hate each other. Obviously,” he scoffs and leans back on one of the desks. It shifts under his weight, and he stumbles. He decides to sit on it completely while you laugh. “And two, this was, like, a genius prank on my end. I made my arch nemesis walk around in my shirt all day— you’re not giving me enough credit for this, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, except I got called the freak’s girlfriend all day.”
“By who?”
“Who do you think?”
He ponders for a moment. “…Jason?”
You nod, all slow because it’s obvious. The only one who hates Eddie more than you do is Jason Carver. You wonder if he’s secretly in love with the town freak, too.
“Well, it’s about time he knows who you belong to,” the boy says with a laugh. “He’s only been trying to get with you for two years.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t belong to anyone— I’m not a toy.”
“Well, yeah— only when you wanna be,” Eddie teases, reaching out for you. His ringed fingers curl around your wrist to pull you closer. You sigh in annoyance but walk between his thighs anyway.
“You’re so annoying.”
Eddie grins, pink and boyish. “But you like me anyway. So who’s the real loser?”
“I thought we hated each other,” you quip with narrowed eyes.
“I was kidding— Just kiss me.”
You giggle quietly and lean in to peck his lips. He tastes like nicotine and spearmint, mouth soft like flower petals. You get lost in him too easily. One peck becomes two — then three — then a longer, languid, and more drawn-out thing.
You feel Eddie smile against you, knowing he’s won now that you’re melting for him. You pull away with a smack when you regain your senses.
“Just because you’re pretty and a good kisser, doesn’t mean I forgive you, by the way. You know that, right?”
“Mhmm,” he hums mindlessly, already leaning forward to kiss you again.
You pull softly back. “And that I’m totally getting you back for this?”
“Yep.” He pecks your lips once, with a lot more self-restraint than you’d had. “So… When are you coming over to get the clothes you left at my place last night?”
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hiii, could you write something about Tom meeting his celebrity crush ( he also maybe said it in an interview) at the Museum Gala? She is a big actress ( maybe did house of the dragon or something). She thinks he is super hot and she has seen the new hunger games movie, so she kinda flirts with him because she knows she is his celebrity crush and he is a nervous wreck. Eventually they start going out and end up dating! Just something about another British Tom manifesting his life LMAO
could you also add some insta posts ? I love this kinda of au! I hope you like this idea
lots of 💋 t!
And They Meet || Tom Blyth x actress!reader
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A/n: love love this request ty anon 😙
Warnings: none!
Wc: 1,232
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Dividers by @pommecita
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“Do you have a celebrity crush?” The question caught Tom by surprise as he chuckles, his fingertips tapping on his chin. “I do actually, uh Y/n Y/l/n.” He admits for the first time on camera.
“I watched House of the Dragon the moment it came out and I just fell in love with how she portrayed Alicent Hightower, truly one of the greatest actresses at such a young age,” He smiles like a mad man as he recalls the time he first saw her on screen.
The gorgeous green coloured dress you would wear looked heavenly, and of course, your impeccable acting drew his attention. He binge watched the first season over and over, a smile adorning his lips everytime you would bless his screen with your beauty.
“Have you met her Tom? She’s a lovely person in real life.” The brunette sighs, “Unfortunately I have not, soon hopefully, soon,” He crosses his fingers as he lets out a low chuckle before moving on.
~
You watch with a grin on your face the interview that mentioned you. After Tom revealed that you were infact, his celebrity crush, you couldn’t help but feel like a giddy high school girl.
The thought that the Tom Blyth took a fancy towards you was mind blowing, especially since you’ve watched him from afar and admired him for quite some time now. You remember you first saw him on Billy the Kid and thought he was exceptional, and quite attractive.
“You think he would be at the museum gala next month?” You lift your head to Ally, your manager as she thinks. “Most likely, why’s that?” She smirks at you as you roll your eyes jokingly. “Nothing, nothing, just wondering,” You put your hands up in defence.
“Okay you have 10 minutes left,” Ally looks at her watch. You were at The Kelly Clarkson Show about to be interviewed about the upcoming season of the House of the Dragon.
~
“Y/n, do you have a type? If so, I think your fans would like to know, don’t you?” Kelly winks to the crowd as they erupt into laughter, including yourself. “Physical wise? Most definitely tall, brunette, blue eyes, a nice smile-“ “That sounds a whole lot familiar to a guest I just had a couple days ago….” Kelly teases as your eyes widen.
“Really?” A nervous chuckle leaves your lips, “Yeah, a Mr Tom Blyth happens to fit that description. I also know he mentioned you as his celebrity crush just the other day,” You play with the ring on your finger as you look at Kelly as if it was new news to you.
“Did he really?” You couldn’t help the smile off your face, “I watched the movie the day it came out and I understand the girlies who were rooting for Coryo,” You fan yourself jokingly, “truly understand.” The crowd cheers as you laugh. “I mean, I’m willing to ignore the red flags because he’s just so incredibly good looking!” You were lowkey fangirling.
“I know right!” Kelly agrees, “Tom did such a fantastic job playing young Snow, he really charmed us all,” You grin.
~
“Do you think she’s going to be at the gala?” Tom lifts his head up, the interview of you at The Kelly Clarkson Show displayed on his phone. “She should be,” His manager says as he smiles to himself, his eyes redirecting to his phone as you continue to talk about House of The Dragon.
Truth be told, after her let the entire world know that your his celebrity crush, he had been basking in the many comments saying how good the two of you would look together. It boosted his ego for sure.
He was hoping he’d finally be able to see you tonight at the museum gala and feed fans content. The second Tom set foot the gala, his eyes wandered around, hoping to see a glimpse of you. "Are you looking for someone Tom?" An interviewer calls out as he chuckles whilst posing for the photographers. "Yes actually," He responds with a shy smile.
Then, he hears loud screaming coming from the entrance as everyone in the gala turns their head towards the noise. And in you walked. Tom was standing in the red carpet section along with other celebrities as you walk towards his way, waving at the cameras along the way.
You wore a beautiful black gown, your hair in curls as the cascade down your back. Tom didn't even realise but he was staring at you, his mouth slightly agape, entranced by your beauty.
Cameras take photos and videos of Tom's reaction to you, it was quite cute. A man who finally got to see his celebrity crush in front of his eyes. Little did he know, you were looking around, hoping to find him.
Your eyes look around the place before you spot Tom, a few metres away from you as your eyes lit up. Abandoning your spot where you were posing for the cameras, you picked up the fabrics of your dress with the help of your assistants and made your way over to him.
It took a few seconds for Tom to realise that you were walking towards his direction. "Tom!" You greet him, going in for a hug as if you had known each other for years. He was slightly taken back but nonetheless hugs you respectfully. "How are you, darling?" He says as you pull back.
The pet name making you blush as you grin at him. You always knew Tom's eyes were blue, but jesus, you didn't realise just exactly how blue they are from up close. "I'm great now that I've finally met you," You chuckle, your hand gripping his bicep as he bites his lip lightly, smiling at you.
"Your eyes are really blue," You blurt out as he laughs, "I get that a lot," "Y/n! Tom! Can we get a picture of the two of you please?" Paparazzi calls out as you and Tom make eye contact, not realising how close your faces were before quickly looking away shyly.
"May I?" He says to you, asking if he could put his hand on your waist. What a gentleman. "Of course," You grin at him as he snakes his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip as your arm wraps around his waist.
The two of you looked good, good together. Throughout the night, you and Tom couldn't get away from each other. He was always by your side, even when you were doing interviews, and vice versa. His hand would rest on the small of your back protectively as you two navigated your way around.
Even at the dinner, he was coincidentally seated beside you which made you happy. You even recorded a video for your Instagram story about it and tagged him. The two of you hit it off straight away, exchanging numbers and even planning to meet up in a couple of days.
Being each other's celebrity crush blossomed into even more. Tom asked you to be his girlfriend after a few weeks of seeing each other and fans were going crazy, saying how he manifested it. You and Tom as a couple received so much support from everyone, including those in the acting industry saying how much of a talented young couple you were.
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steddiealltheway · 8 months
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(I have just hit a very nice (silly) milestone of 6969 followers, so I wrote this little ficlet to celebrate and thank you all for always being so supportive 💛 I hope you enjoy)
Everyone is shocked when Steve and Eddie announce they’re moving in together.
But, to Steve, it’s really a no-brainer. Robin is going away to college, the kids are starting to get their licenses and no longer need a babysitter, and Eddie desperately wants to get out of Hawkins.
So, Steve bought a map, measured the distance between Hawkins and Robin’s college, and marked a spot right in the middle.
Okay, so maybe it ended up being in the middle of a river, but there was a town near there that was perfectly not too far from Hawkins while being far away enough for Eddie to feel safe. As well as being far enough from Robin to give her space at her new school while being close enough that she could easily spend the night at their place whenever she wanted.
But distance wasn’t a problem for anyone, they were mainly concerned about how Steve and Eddie would live with each other and not kill each other.
But after a few weeks, Steve can confidently say that living with Eddie is… nice actually.
Really really nice.
Of course, he had been a little concerned about all their differences and adjusting to having someone always around, but Steve enjoys the company.
Actually, he specifically enjoys Eddie’s company.
Sure, he can be loud and a bit messy, but Steve loves that their small apartment actually feels like a home.
Whenever Robin stops by, she comments about how domestic they’re getting. Especially whenever Eddie randomly appears with a cup of water not even seconds after Steve mentions he was getting thirsty.
But what Steve fails to mention to Robin are all the little other things Eddie does, like when it’s late at night and Eddie brushes the hair off of Steve’s forehead and says, “It’s a little late for me to see those beautiful eyes still open."
Sometimes when they're watching a movie, Steve will fall asleep and wake up to Eddie carrying him to bed as if it's an easy thing to do.
And yeah, maybe Steve finds it overwhelmingly hot, and maybe he clings a little tighter whenever Eddie tries to put him down so they're stuck in a tight embrace that Steve can wave off as a result of being half asleep.
But sometimes Eddie's eyes linger on Steve a little longer than they should or Eddie will throw his arm over the back of the couch and let his fingertips lightly trace over Steve's shoulder or run through his hair gently as if he doesn't even notice himself doing it. And it makes Steve think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie might have feelings for him too.
But just when things are going great, and Steve is thinking about testing the boundaries of their friendship to push more into romantic territory, Eddie starts fucking with him.
The problem is, it's not anything big or obvious that Steve can just laugh off. Instead, Eddie starts messing with the thermostat. The thermostat Steve likes to keep strictly at 71.
But Eddie has decided to set it to 69.
At first, Steve just adjusts it, wondering why Eddie is bumping it down when he's always cold and wraps himself in a blanket, complaining that 71 is too cold.
After two days of back and forth, Steve wonders if the thing is just broken because he hasn't actually seen Eddie mess with it. So, he wanders to Eddie's room and knocks on the door lightly before opening it.
Eddie lays back on his bed with a smirk on his face that instantly alerts Steve that Eddie has in fact been messing with him.
He crosses his arms and leans against the doorway. "Have you been messing with the thermostat?"
Eddie shrugs and comments, "Maybe."
Steve frowns, not sure what the hell kind of game Eddie's playing at. "Well, can you maybe leave it at seventy-one?"
"And if I don't?" Eddie challenges, cocking his head to the side, "What are you going to do about it?"
"Change it back to seventy-one," Steve replies easily. He feels like he's missing something when Eddie's face falters a bit, but he hopes it's just him getting the message to not mess with it. And just in case he doesn't get it, he shuts the door a little more firmly than usual.
Only, two days later, Steve happens to notice that the thermostat is set to 69 again. He scowls and presses the button twice before going off to Eddie's room and knocking on the door again a little harder than usual, wondering why Eddie is trying to mess with him after they had been having such a nice day.
"Come in!" Eddie chirps.
Steve swings the door open and rests his hands on his hips. "You changed it again."
Eddie shrugs and leans back on his bed looking overly comfortable. "Just setting the mood."
"Yeah, you've set the mood, and you set it to annoyed. Stop changing it," Steve says as he starts to close the door. He stops as it's about to close and peaks his head back in. "Please."
With that, he thinks he's done with the whole thing. And after a few days pass, he's pretty much forgotten about the whole incident.
That is, until Robin comes to visit and suddenly asks, "Does it feel slightly colder in here to you?"
Steve groans and walks over to the thermostat, seeing the number 69 staring back at him. He's not sure when Eddie changed it, but he's not even currently there so Steve can yell at him. Instead, he just complains to Robin, "Eddie's been fucking with me and changing the thermostat."
Robin snorts. "Isn't he like perpetually cold all the time?"
"Yes! Which is why I'm so confused about him keeping it at sixty-nine all the time."
Robin pauses and glances over at Steve. "What is he keeping it at?"
"Sixty-nine."
Robin just cackles in response, and Steve glares at her asking, "What?"
"Sixty-nine!" Robin laughs again.
"Real mature, Robin," Steve says, rolling his eyes before the realization hits him. "Oh, Christ."
Robin only laughs harder, but Steve is stuck on the other conversations he had with Eddie which were... definitely miscommunications. Oh god, was Eddie trying to... proposition him?
Robin's laughter dies down enough for her to ask, "What's wrong?"
Steve gives her a look and sits down on the couch next to her, further realizing the thermostat incidents happened after days when the two of them got a little more... friendly than usual.
Steve sighs and explains the entire situation including the things he's left out before including his feelings for Eddie. He's glad that Robin holds in her laughter until after he's done.
"Stop laughing, it's not funny."
Robin manages to say through her laughter, "You both are disasters. But you're both so gone on each other that it's almost a little disgusting." She then stands up and grabs her bag, walking toward the front door.
"Where are you going?" Steve asks, following her.
Robin turns around and gives Steve a look. "I'm leaving before Eddie gets back and you two..." she gestures toward the thermostat.
Steve groans, "Get out, Buckley." He can't help but smile before he pulls her into a hug and digs some money out of his wallet.
"What's this?" Robin asks.
"Gas money for sending you away early."
Robin smiles and salutes him. "I guess this means I'll be coming back tomorrow."
"I'll call in case we're still-"
"Gross, dingus," Robin says with a laugh before she hugs him one more time and whispers, "Thank you for telling me."
Steve just squeezes her a little tighter.
After she leaves, Steve takes a minute to form a plan before Eddie gets back from whatever store he went to. He looks at the thermostat and sets it back to 71 degrees while he tries to think.
Unfortunately, he doesn't get far in his thinking before the front door unlocks and Eddie walks in with a few grocery bags in hand.
Steve just turns around and tries not to look too startled by Eddie's sudden appearance.
Eddie gives him a confused look and gestures outside. "Did I just see Robin leave?"
Steve nods but gives no further explanation, stuck on how the hell he's supposed to approach this subject with Eddie. God, now he understands the thermostat method.
"You okay?" Eddie asks before his eyes settle on the thermostat. "Oh, shit. Sorry, I did that late last night. Can we just forget that that happened? It was... dumb really."
Instead of forgetting it, Steve dramatically reaches up and hits the down button twice. "I think I finally get it." Eddie's eyes widen as Steve crosses his arms and continues, "Setting the mood, right? Or, tell me, what are you going to do about it?"
Eddie looks at him for a second then suddenly drops all the bags in his hands, practically racing down the hallway to Steve and cupping his face in his hands. "Am I reading this right?"
Steve slowly glances at the thermostat. "Well, it does say sixty-nine."
Eddie huffs out a laugh but quickly clarifies, "I don't just want that. I mean... I like you. And I just couldn't think of a good way to bring that up without it being some type of joke. Not that liking you is a joke, but oh god-"
"Eddie," Steve says firmly, stopping his rambling. "I like you, too."
Eddie's face lights up. "Yeah?"
Steve nods as his hands come up to Eddie's waist and pull him in a little closer.
"You like me enough to sixty-"
"Oh, shut up," Steve says with a big smile.
"Make me," Eddie replies, giving Steve an exaggerated wink.
Steve shakes his head and sighs before pulling Eddie into a sweet kiss, both of them smiling too much to make it anything more than a peck. When they pull away, Steve thinks he might murder Eddie when he whispers, "Nice."
But he wouldn't have it any other way.
2K notes · View notes
ghost-1-y · 8 months
Text
Sacrifice
Surtr!Kyojuro x AFAB!Worshipper!Reader
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Content Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, masturbation (Kyo), getting caught masturbating (Kyo), knotting, Kyojuro is in heat, Kyo has a massive breeding kink, lactation kink (Kyo loves your titties), size kink, pregnancy kink, pregnancy (at the end), using horns as handles, implied belly bulging, mommy kink (reader referred to as both “mommy” and “mother”), love confessions at the very end, douma being an asshole, incorrect interpretation of norse mythology, reader is given as a human sacrifice to Kyo, mentions of animal sacrifice, reader referred to as “pretty girl” sometimes, please lmk if I missed anything!
Summary: The legends stated that the mighty fire giant would one day bring about the beginnings of Ragnarok and engulf the world in flames. You had been told of these prophecies since childhood and were a firm believer in appeasing the proclaimed Ruler of Fire through worship and sacrifice – just as you had been taught by the village elders since you were a mere child. What you didn’t expect, however, was for the village to turn their back on you and suggest that what would be needed would be a human sacrifice to appease the giant once and for all.
Word Count: ~6k
Divider Credit: @/benkeibear
A/N: So sorry this took so long!! I've had a mess of a week so far. I hope the fic is worth the wait! Apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors (I tried my best).
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A fire blazed in the heart of the village, crackling with embers floating gracefully and smoke ebbing above the tallest of houses – its heat a sharp contrast to the bitter cold of the autumn night. Members of the village surrounded the bonfire, sitting with their families as they feasted, bellies full with the meat stew that was provided for them. A single bowl was left untouched amongst each family – a welcoming invitation for the dead to engage in the festivities that were part of Vetrnætr.
As chieftain, you engaged with the families, wishing them good health and happiness as they did the same for you, before engaging in sumbel with them as you poured wine onto the grass below.
“Freyr will be most pleased by your worship.”
In a way of parting from families, you’d praise their good faith before moving on to the next family. The smiles were abundant amongst the villagers, and, once you’d made your way fully around the bonfire, you removed your sword from your scabbard and raised it high into the air.
“Today we celebrate, and are thankful to the god Freyr for a wonderful harvest. Please join me in this sacrifice, in order to show our thanks to the deities of all the Nine Realms.” 
However, before you could commit to the sacrifice – the poor lamb that was before you – a cold hand gripped at your shoulder, which made you turn in confusion.
“Perhaps I should tell you, before you engage in such an act, that the priest has some… concerns,” the man – Enmu you believed his name was – whispered. You sighed and sheathed your sword once more, your blood beginning to boil as you’d wondered what he could possibly want in the middle of the village’s celebration.
You trudged your way through the temple that resided on the outskirts of the village. The door creaked open as you walked through, and before you sat the village priest, who sat on a cushion made of feathers and animal skin. He upturned his lips upon seeing you, yet it wasn’t a true smile.
You knew he didn’t know how to, after all.
“Ah! My lovely Chieftain,” Douma drawled, “such a beautiful night to celebrate Vetrnætr, isn’t it? Although, I doubt that Freyr will grant you the beauty or fertility needed to continue your lineage this upcoming year, truly a shame,” he said, faking a pout. 
You fought the urge to ball your fists. The village elders, and, apparently now the village priest as well, had been pressing you for a child – particularly a son – however, despite many suitors attempting to lay their claim to the throne, and therefore you, none had been successful.
Despite this jab, you maintained composure, “what do you need from me, Douma? You’ve interrupted the sacrifice.” You stared him down, and he forced a small laugh.
“Oh my, a harsh tongue doesn’t suit you, dear Chief” he sneered, “You see, I have become aware of some rather concerning events – ones surrounding Ragnarök in particular,” he paused, observing you for any kind of reaction, “unfortunately, it seems Surtr has traveled from Muspelheim to Midgard.”
Your eyes widened, “how would he be able to do such a thing? He isn’t a deity–”
“–ah, but he is a jötunn, and therefore would have the ability to travel between the realms,” Douma countered, “did you never pay attention to my lessons during your youth?”
You rolled your eyes, “you speak as though we do not dedicate sacrifices to him with each solstice. You know appeasing his anger is one of my most steadfast beliefs.”
Douma hummed, “well, it appears that you did not follow through with this past solstice, my dear Chieftain – rather dedicating it to Freyr than to Surtr – and, to be completely honest, I am quite disappointed in that fact.”
The door shut behind you, and two warriors stood on either side of you. You grabbed the hilt of your sword, sensing distrust in the air.
“Do you know, Chieftain, what would be required to adequately appease the Ruler of Fire?”
You pulled out your sword and swung at the warrior on your right, an attack which was quickly blocked by his own weapon. You landed a kick to the left one’s stomach, only for it to be trapped in an unwavering grip by the warrior’s arms. You attempted to swing your sword at him in retaliation, only for your arm to also be grabbed by the one on your right.
Douma stood up and walked towards you, gripping your chin – the cold of his skin causing you to wince.
 “A proper, human sacrifice.”
A blow landed to the back of your neck, and your vision faded to black.
You awoke to a chill that laid upon your skin, feeling as though you were made of ice rather than of flesh. You were completely bare, lying on a wooden floor of what you presumed to be the priest’s sacred temple, as your vision was fully obstructed by a cloth which wrapped around your eyes. Upon moving your arms – which were thankfully in front of you and not behind, you noticed that your wrists were also bound by rope to prevent you from making any potential escape from Douma’s clutches.
Outside, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door swung open – causing you to flinch at the loud creak that sounded from it. A rough hand grabbed at your arm and pulled you up to your feet, forcing you outside where you heard murmurs of villagers on either side of you. Your cheeks flushed deep with embarrassment, the idea of your beloved villagers seeing you in such a state bringing tears to your eyes in pure shame.
“All of you, please say your final goodbyes to our beloved Chieftain – for she has volunteered to become the sacrifice that will appease Surtr and end his threats of Ragnarök!”
You couldn’t hear the cheers of your people over your pulse pounding in your ears, completely helpless as you were all but dragged along the dirt and gravel pathway before being placed on a horse. A faint rustling could be heard before you felt a rope tied around your neck.
“Be careful not to fall off, my dear Chieftain, lest your neck snap as you’re dragged along the rugged terrain by your horse,” Douma whispered to you before saddling himself onto a separate horse, and you could only assume that this rope was also tied to the horse in some way, thus forcing you to go wherever Douma led you.
You begrudgingly held tight against the horse’s mane as it went into a trot, the wind blowing harshly against your naked skin as the voices of the villagers slowly faded away, replaced by the clopping of hooves as you traversed to a place unfamiliar.
The horses did not stop, and you could only tell the passage of time as the cool of night gave way to the blazing heat of the sun that seared itself into your back. Hours must have passed, and your muscles grew sore the longer you traveled.
At some point, the horses slowed, and the sun’s heat was obstructed by a shadow which loomed above you. Again, a faint rustling could be heard before you were taking off of the horse’s back – yet the rope stayed wrapped around your neck, yet it was no longer taut if you tried pulling away from the horse’s body. You were dragged into the cool shadow, before a hand gripped at your hair.
“Such a shame you never produced a son,” Douma muttered into your ear, “you wouldn’t have to die if you were nice and fertile, my dear Chieftain.”
You could only imagine the nasty grin on his face as he pushed you forward, causing you to lose your footing and fall what could’ve been roughly two meters before hitting solid rock. You heard laughter above you before it started to fade away.
Luckily, the fall seemed to loosen the cloth which covered your eyes, allowing you to see out of one of them, yet you doubted it would be of much help as you got your bearings and realized that you were indeed alone in a dark cave, being left to starve and rot as a form of sacrifice to Surtr.
You decided, that if you were going to die anyway, that you’d at least explore the cave you were pushed into.
It was dark, yet not damp, the stone beneath you as dry as the walls that surrounded you, and you wondered if the sun somehow reached its way into the depths of this cave to evaporate the moisture. There was no life, not a single lizard or insect to be seen – although a few animal bones would be strewn about here and there as you continued your descent further into the cave.
You traversed further, being careful to not trip over any rocks or pitfalls. After what seemed to be an hour of exploration, you saw the tiniest spark of light in the distance.
Perhaps a way out? You thought, and walked closer to this flickering light, and the rather narrow tunnel you were in gave way to a large cavern – with a large bonfire in the middle, one much larger than the one in your village during the celebration of Vetrnætr. 
Unlike the blazing heat of the sun from earlier, the warmth of the bonfire was comforting, with its orange hue flickering along the walls of the cavern.
As you got closer, you heard the slightest shifting from the other side of the cavern, followed by what could only be described as a low growl. You froze, unsure of how to proceed in front of a potential predator with nothing to defend yourself with. You slowly crouched and walked towards the bonfire, and, despite your hands being tied, managed to pick up one of the smaller logs on the outer ring of the fire before dousing the tip of it in flames – a weapon, should you need to use it.
As you slowly walked around the bonfire, you found a rather peculiar sight – realizing that the growl did not come from the likes of an animal.
But who– or what was before you was certainly not human.
The being before you was huge, possibly even a jötunn. You were never one to doubt your beliefs, but the idea that a creature from another realm was before your very eyes was difficult to swallow. However, from what you could remember from your religious texts, a jötunn is the only creature you could bring yourself to categorize it as. 
The creature had large, curved horns that were sizable in their girth, and its tusks – not fangs – emerged up from its lower jaw. What’s more, it had pointed ears on either side of its head which emerged through hair resembling that of fire, locks that matched the finest gold and ruby gemstones that would cost a fortune in your village.
Unlike the face, its body looked quite human – although its very naked form boasted large, dense muscles throughout its entire body, and a cock that made you swallow absentmindedly from just how threatening its size was.
The creature was stroking its girth, thumbing itself over the leaking slit – a slight shudder escaping from its throat. It started to fuck itself into its grip, thrusting quickly as though chasing its release. Its other hand was fondling its balls – which looked heavy and full of seed, before having its hand move slightly upward towards the slightly swollen base of its cock, softly massaging it to seemingly ease the tension it caused.
Fully flushed with embarrassment, you backed away from the creature before you, each step seemingly calculated in order to escape this situation.
Is the creature sentient? It seems to be humanoid– does that mean it can think like a human? What if it’s a predator and kills me? 
Thoughts rushed through your mind, seemingly going into a frenzy as you worried about potential outcomes of this situation.
Crack!
In your panic, you managed to step on a stray twig that managed to stray from the center of the bonfire.
The creature stopped its movements, and immediately turned its head to the source of the sound.
Its amber and crimson eyes opened and glared into yours.
“F-Fuck—!”
With one glance over your naked form, the creature before you released its seed, spilling it all over its fist and shaft, with the remaining drops dribbling onto its lower abdomen. It continued to slowly rub its fist up and down its length, closing its eyes as it played with its tip up until the last of its cum dribbled out from the slit, before tensing and looking back at you, eyes widening in shock – as though it couldn’t believe you were actually there.
“I’m sorry!” the creature exclaimed, a blush so red blooming across its cheeks that it seemingly felt the same amount of embarrassment as you. It hastily wiped itself clean on the furred animal skin it was laying upon. “I– I can explain, really– just– who are you? Why are you here?” 
You were in shock, so much so that you couldn’t even eke out a full sentence. Your eyes drifted down to its cock once more, which – much to your surprise – was still standing incredibly tall and proud as it curved up towards the creature’s stomach. Heat prickled across your cheeks and down your chest as the fiery-haired being used its hands to cover itself up in front of you – sensing that you might be uncomfortable from bearing witness to such an event.
This is ridiculous, you thought, you are the Chieftain of your village – compose yourself!
“I am Y/N, leader of my village and child of a family of famed warriors,” you introduced yourself. 
The creature raised an eyebrow to you in response.
“And what exactly brings a village leader into my cave?” 
You hesitated, humiliation flooding your veins even more so than before.
“I– I was overthrown by the village priest and have been made a sacrifice to Surtr, the Ruler of Fire.”
You expected laughter from the jötunn before you, closing your eyes to hide whatever dignity you had left from what Douma stripped from you. However, instead of hearing a cacophony of hearty noises from the creature’s throat, you instead heard the thud of footsteps approaching you. 
Slowly, the jötunn reached forward and removed the bandages which obstructed your vision, loosening and pulling them away with his large fingers, careful to not touch you unnecessarily in the process.
Your eyes widened as you looked up at the giant, his eyes surprisingly kind as he looked down at you. He bunched the bandages in his hands before tossing them to the side, then continued untie the ropes that were digging into your wrists and cast them aside as well.
“If what you say is true, please inform your village that I do not take human sacrifices.”
Your heart seemed to have traveled up to your throat, its beats both fast and fluttery.
“That would imply that I could go back– wait, what are you talking about?”
Then, the creature did finally let out a laugh – a small chuckle that rose from his chest and was deep and bassy as it rose through his throat.
“My dear human, I am the one you people refer to as Surtr.” 
You stopped, instinctively stepping back – away from the creature that just claimed to be the harbinger of destruction – the one to bring flames that will engulf all nine realms and Yggdrasil itself.
You did what you believed best, and forced your body to the rocky floor of the cave, bowing in absolute submission and respect for such a being – nearly cowering in the presence of such raw power presented before you.
“Stand up, please, there’s no need for that here.”
You looked up at the being before you, rather confused by his words.
He sighed, “you humans have beliefs of me that are so far from the truth, it’s saddening.”
A pause, the only sound in the cavern being the crackling of the wood against flames.
“My real name is Kyojuro, the name ‘Surtr’ is a title bestowed upon me that I did not wish to receive. I am not going to harm you or your village, I do not wish for such evil. Whatever “priest” thought that a human sacrifice would appease this nonexistent will of mine is, to put simply, a fool.”
You let out a shaky breath, and he reached out his hand – one that dwarfed your own – toward you. 
“Stand up.”
He was smiling as you took his hand, with a gaze that was comforting and kind as he sent sparks through your skin with his touch.
The prickling heat returned to your cheeks.
“I’ll help you get back to your village,” he promised.
You froze, your heartbeat quickening once more as you registered his words.
“I can’t– please, I can’t go back, not after what they did to me,” you started, preparing yourself to beg and plead this god-like creature for mercy.
Kyojuro frowned, “I understand, but I can’t keep you here. You need to leave, I– I can’t have you stay.”
You knew it was selfish, to leave your people in the hands of Douma, but after what he did to you– after how he humiliated you.
Where the fire in your village was scalding, his was warm. Where those treated you with indifference or malice, he had been nothing but kind.
Was it really worth going back?
“I’d like to stay,” you decided.
Kyojuro stopped, each and every second becoming more and more difficult for the jötunn. Every passing moment he ignored his very obvious problem, he became this much closer to just bending you over and taking you like a wild animal. His blood was hot in his veins, and fire licked at his lower abdomen, pleasure bubbling once more to the surface as he continued to endure his heat.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me, human,” he warned. He was using every ounce of his willpower in order to maintain his composure. His heat was going to near its peak soon, and he needed you away from him before that happened. He came to Midgard to weather it alone in his cave, and you were only making it all the more difficult.
“Kyojuro,” you uttered softly, and the creature before you let out a low growl, “will you let me stay if I…help?” 
His cock twitched, precum dribbling slowly out of the tip, with the base of it swelling up once more.
“I don’t want you to try and sell yourself to me as though you’re a piece of meat. I–” he swallowed, “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t allow you to do that.”
“Kyojuro, I want to help you. I want this,” you assured, and he balled his hands into fists, as though the rope holding him together was about to snap.
“Y/N–” he warned, and you rolled your eyes.
“Please, fuck me, Kyojuro.”
The jötunn grabbed your arm, “if– if we are to do this, you must know that I am in heat, and I–” he swallowed, “I may not be able to control myself should we continue.”
You took your hand and brushed your fingers across his tightened grip, causing slight shivers to flow down his spine.
“Lose control, Kyojuro, I can take it.”
He groaned, and with his strength, picked you up and collided his lips with yours. Your hands sought either side of his face, kissing back with fervor as he moaned into your mouth. His tusks surprisingly didn’t obstruct your access to his mouth, and every once in a while he’d nip at your bottom lip, before laving his tongue over the swollen skin and pushing it into your mouth. You let out a small moan at the intrusion, and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers finding purchase in his wild, fiery hair.
His grip on your body moved from your hips back towards your ass, cupping and massaging the muscle with his hands. His cock was stiff against your inner thigh, the precum spreading along your skin with each small movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as his cock slipped between your legs and along your slit – the sheer girth of it a little worrisome as it pressed against your heat.
“Shit– so big, Kyojuro, hah–” you panted, and he growled.
“Never had cock this big before, have you? Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get you nice and ready to take me.”
He shifted your weight onto one of his arms, the muscles flexing as he shifted his other hand beneath you. Two of his fingers started rubbing along your clit, making small circular motions as his other hand groped at the fat of your ass. He lifted you up a little more so his mouth was in line with your breasts and pursed his lips around one of your perked up tits, sucking at it and licking broad stripes with his tongue. He groaned around your tit as he played with your pussy, reveling in how wet you were for him already. The mini vibrations sent electricity down your spine, and you moved your head to rest on his broad shoulder, giving small kisses to his neck as you whined from his ministrations.
“Lips feel so good, dear, love it when you kiss me like that,” he sighed, giving kisses to each of your breasts, “want to apologize for my earlier…release, you were just so beautiful…seeing you all naked ‘n presenting for me like that…made me want to breed you, pretty girl,” Kyojuro confessed, causing you to shiver as he softly whispered such filthy thoughts into your ear.
“Mmh– don’t apologize, Kyo– liked watchin’ you,” you admitted, and he let out a light chuckle, which made you lightly slap his rocky chest. He responded by giving a small bite to your breast, before licking it better with his skilled tongue.
“Yeah? You like the idea of me wanting to breed you? Getting you pregnant with my young?” he asked, his fingers moving from your clit down towards your entrance, where he inserted a single thick digit into your heat. You whined as your pussy clenched around the intrusion, and nodded in response, licking a stripe up his neck before kissing back down it again.
His finger thrust into you, curling against that one sensitive area inside of you as his thumb reached for and played with your clit. The moans that you let out echoed throughout the cavern, with the only other sounds being the shlick of Kyojuro’s finger deep in your cunt and the crackling of flames. After a while, he added a second digit, and slowly but surely worked you towards your peak, the tension slowly building up in your gut.
With one last swipe against your clit with his thumb, you came undone, your orgasm causing you to shudder and whine in his hold as he worked you through it, curling his fingers and rubbing your clit as you rode out each wave. 
“Kyo–” you moaned, trying to grind your hips down on his fingers, and he smiled before meeting your lips in a heated kiss. He continued thrusting his fingers up into your now weeping cunt, prepping you nice and good to take his much thicker cock.
He walked back toward his makeshift bed – a pile of furs and animal skins which he must’ve collected prior to his heat – and gently placed you down on top of them. His large hands moved down your thighs, rubbing softly up and down your plush skin as he stared at the slick between your legs. He lowered himself between your thighs and inhaled deeply as he tried desperately to memorize your scent. He licked a stripe up your slit, causing you to jolt at the sensation, and moaned as your taste spread over his tongue like honey.
You squirmed underneath his touch, which made him hold your hips in place as he started to devour you. His tongue flicked over your clit before collecting more of your juices on his tongue. Your hands found his horns and gripped them tightly, pushing his head further between your thighs, earning a groan from Kyojuro. He pursed his lips and sucked at your clit before licking at it in circular motions, moving his hand between your legs again and pushing two digits inside your cunt once more, thrusting in and out of your hole with his fingers. After adding a third finger, he started curling his fingers into that one spot again, his movements quick and deft as he brought you to your second orgasm. 
You moaned loudly as you came undone, legs shaking as your grip on his horns tightened, trying your best to buck your hips up into his face as he lapped up all of the juices that seeped out of your pussy. Only when you were able to open your eyes once more did you look down to see Kyojuro humping himself onto the fur pelts as he messily gathered the rest of your release onto his tongue.
“Kyo– please, I need you,” you whined, and he looked up at you with a fire ignited in his eyes. He got up, stroking his thick cock as he looked down upon your much smaller form.
“Get on all fours for me.”
Without hesitation, you rolled over and got on your hands and knees. Kyojuro kneeled behind you and placed his cock in between your wet folds, rubbing the tip up and down as his precum mixed with your juices. He shuddered before slowly pushing the head inside, causing you to tense slightly from how big the intrusion was.
“Relax for me, won’t you?” he asked softly.
You tried your best to relax, and he started to push more of his length inside of you, filling you up more than you ever thought possible. For a moment, he stayed like that, relishing in the feeling of your cunt tightly wrapped around his throbbing cock, his hips flush against your ass as you whined for him to move, please.
“Let me have this moment, dear, I– I haven’t felt something this wonderful in centuries,” he confessed, and you let out a soft mewl before complying with what he wanted. 
After a few more moments, his cock dragged out of you slowly before thrusting back in. He rocked into you, slowly at first, which was most likely for the better considering how huge he was. He growled as he thrust into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he reached underneath you to hold your stomach, pressing up slightly as he fully fucked his cock into you.
“Shit– you feel that, pretty girl? Feel my cock deep inside you?” he groaned, and you nodded helplessly, letting out a whine as he continued his movements. “Feel so good wrapped around me, so fuckin’ tight f’ me.”
You choked out another moan as he started increasing his speed, his groans becoming more frequent with each thrust. Kyojuro took his hand and gently tilted your chin up so you could look at him.
“Won’t last much longer, pretty girl,” he leaned down and kissed you, “gonna pull out, promise.”
You whined, “no– please, need your cum, Kyo– need it inside.”
He moaned loudly, “you have no idea what you’re asking of me, pretty. You’d end up taking my knot–”
“I want your knot, Kyo! Please give it to me–!”
Kyojuro thrust even harder into your sopping cunt upon hearing that, “fuck, you want my knot? I’ll get you fucking pregnant, fill you up with my young ‘n get your belly all swollen, you sure you want that?”
“Yes! Please Kyo–! Please–”
With a couple last thrusts, Kyojuro shot his seed inside of you, thick ropes painting your insides white and filling you up to the brim. You moaned as you felt the warmth spread deep inside of your cunt, and, before his release could begin to seep out of your pussy, a burning stretch began inside your abused hole. Realizing this is what Kyojuro meant by his knot, you tried to look behind you to catch sight of his cock seemingly expanding inside of your pussy, keeping his cum nicely plugged inside of you.
Kyojuro was panting, his voice rough as he pulled you up onto his lap.
“Good fuckin’ girl, taking my knot so well.” He looked down at your chest as you sat in his lap, his cock still rock hard and throbbing inside your wet cunt.
“Can’t wait to see these breasts filled with milk, gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you?” he said before taking one of your tits in his mouth and sucking at it, as though he were trying to get you to produce milk already for him, and eventually his young, to feed on.
“Kyo, I– I’m sorry, but I’m not fertile, I– I’ve never been able to produce an heir with another man,” you sighed, and his eyes looked up to meet yours. “I’m really sorry, it’s why I was thrown down here in the first place” you continued, hoping your words wouldn’t anger him.
Instead of becoming angry, he simply placed you back down on the fur pelts and brought your legs up towards your shoulders so that you were folded completely in half. He then crouched over you, keeping you locked in a mating press with him.
“I’m no simple man, my dear human,” he kissed your lips, “if I say I will breed you and fill you with my young–” he paused, thrusting deeply into your cunt.
“–I mean every single word.”
Kyojuro started fucking into you with renewed fervor, his stamina seemingly having increased despite already releasing inside of you once. His cock reached deeper inside of you, and you could swear you felt him all the way in your throat. Every single thrust of his hips had you a whining mess, taking his knot until your pussy molded into the shape of his cock.
“Fuck, that’s it, take it all,” he groaned before pressing his mouth to yours once more. His tongue plunged past your lips – prompting you to suck on it, causing him to fall over the edge again, his hips stilling as he pumped a second load of cum into your needy cunt. You whined as he didn’t stop – continuing to fuck into your abused cunt despite cumming twice, his cock still stiff and leaking with every thrust. You felt his seed sloshing around in your womb, feeling so incredibly full by both his cum and his fat cock.
“Mine,” he growled while pumping himself into you, “you’re fucking mine.”
You could only nod and whine in response, having been completely fucked dumb by his cock.
“Pregnant.” He pummeled his cock deep into your cunt, “getting you pregnant. Fuck. Gonna have a round belly filled with my young, tits swelling with milk, I’ll keep you here – gonna be the mother to my children, gonna treat mommy so well, hunt for you, protect you, everything you could ever want.”
You moaned, your cunt clenching around his cock upon listening to his promises.
“Wan’ it,” you managed, “wan’ to be a good mommy so– fuck– so bad.”
Kyojuro groaned, his cock twitching inside of you as it swelled even more. “Can’t stop thinking of my young suckling on your breasts, tits producing so much milk that all of them have their fill– shit, gonna cum again, gonna fill you up– fuck!” 
He spilled into you once more, filling your cunt up completely with his seed, ensuring that it takes, making good on his promise. His fingers flicked at your clit and your own orgasm came crashing down around you, pure euphoria flowing through your veins as you let out a silent scream from the seemingly endless waves of pleasure addling your mind.
Kyojuro rolled over and had you collapse on top of him, his arms reaching around your torso and holding you close.
“Did you mean what you said? About wanting to stay?” he whispered, slight insecurity being carried through his tone.
You gave him a quick peck to his lips, “yes, Kyojuro, you– you’ve been so kind to me, much more than anyone else in that damned village. I’d love to stay with you.”
He smiled softly at you, his eyes glowing with warmth as he cradled your head into his neck, petting at your hair as the two of you fell asleep next to the flickering bonfire.
A few months had passed, and you were waiting for your lover to return from his hunt. He had promised a large meal today, and you were excited to see what he had planned for the two of you.
You rubbed your baby bump as you cozied up next to the fire, resting in a heap of animal furs which acted as bedding for the two of you. You were surprised to find out that you were pregnant, but Kyojuro had sensed it about a month after you two had first met, and proceeded to treat you as though every step you took turned the rocks beneath your feet into gold. 
The bump was rather large for only being a few months in, and your breasts were already swelling and leaking with milk, but Kyojuro had told you that it was normal – considering that his young would be half-jötunn. He quelled your fears of labor, saying that he would help you in every way that he possibly could when it came time to have the baby.
After a few hours, Kyojuro came back to the cavern, carrying your meal over his shoulder.
“How is my love doing?” he asked with the biggest smile on his face, causing you to giggle as you attempted to get up to greet him. Kyojuro rushed over to you, ensuring that you don’t so much as lift a finger while carrying his young. He leaned down and gave you a soft kiss before dragging your meal to the bonfire and beginning to cook it.
“Mmh– Kyo? Could you help me a little bit, my tits feel so swollen,” you pouted, and his ears damn near perked up at your words.
“Oh? Does mommy need some relief?” he asked teasingly, and you nodded. Kyojuro walked over to you and knelt down, his hands reaching to massage your breasts slowly. He kneaded them and licked at the milk which dribbled out, letting it coat over his tongue. His lips wrapped around one of your tits, and he sucked slowly, moaning as he drank from you. You whined when he moved to the other tit and performed the same actions, relief sinking in the more he suckled the milk out of you.
“Taste so good, pretty girl,” he whispered before getting up again to cook the meat he brought in.
You pouted again, “need you, Kyo, please,” and he laughed.
“You can have me after we eat, does that sound okay?” he compromised, and you sighed but nodded in agreement.
You laid back and rested upon the pile of furs, smiling in contentment as you looked at the two meals that were set out before you.
“I love you, Kyo,” you admitted, unashamed by your feelings as they echoed throughout the cavern.
Kyojuro froze, glancing back at you briefly before continuing to prepare the food, trying his best to hide the blush that traveled across his cheeks to the tips of his ears.
“I love you, too, my little flame.”
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xo-cod · 9 months
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fluff with simon battling fatherhood. and he gets a lil sad reality check <3 :")
this was rushed but i love the idea of simon realising his family he had will never be able to see the family he's created 🥲🤍
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"kids, hurry up" simon called out with a stern expression as he waited by the end of the stairs, strapping the baby carrier to his chest and placing his youngest inside gently. the small baby stirred softly, a sleepy mumble falling from her lips as she closed her eyes once more feeling the steady heartbeat of simon's chest
"comin' daddy!" he hears the thundering of small feet running down the stairs, bringing a soft smile of pride to his lips to see his girls
"c'mere munchkin" he bends carefully to his knees, mindful of the baby strapped to his chest, and helps hana with her ballet flats while amara places a headband in her hair lopsided as she looked back to simon again.
"where we goin'?" his 5 year old asks as she twirled a little to make her dress spin while she looked at simon with such innocence it makes him want to protect her forever from anything and everything
"amara you stepped on my feet!" hana, his three year old scowled as she pushed her older sister back with a huff. the other gasps a little in shock and then her small face crumples into annoyance as she huffed
"easy easy, none of that now, alright?" simon eyed his daughters with a firm look and they both sighed and nodded slowly
"where's mum?" amara looked around for you and simon clicked his tongue, fixing her lopsided headbanded to sit right on her tiny head once more
"mum's at a doctors appointment so you lot are comin with me to the supermarket" he responds, grabbing their coats from the side as he helps them in to it. he's already got snacks stashed away in the bag for when they start to get cranky halfway through and he hoped the shops wouldn't be an overly long trip
"who did mum go with?" kids and their never ending questions but it makes him chuckle a little at their curiosity, zipping up their small jackets to ensure their warmth
"she's gone with her mum, nana" he speaks again, standing back up carefully as he pressed a soft kiss to his baby on his chest. he just about grabbed his keys when one of his piped up again with yet another question
"oh... where's your mum daddy?" hana asks so innocently, it makes him pause. he could feel his heart beat heavily under his chest, picking up pace as he stares at his little girl again. her eyes hold so much wonder, so much interest it's so hard to answer
"she's... not here honey. she passed away years ago" he stroked her hair, reminiscing on the past for a few seconds as memories of his mother flew by in his head. from her helping him get ready for school to the doctors appointments to making him food, the memories hit him like a truck even years and years forward. memories of tommy and his wife flooding his head alongside his nephew. every milestone simon had ever reached was shared now to a grave instead of the warmth his family provided. every happy occasion, every huge goal was said in a soft prayer to the sky instead of being celebrated loudly.
having children was something simon thought wasn't possible not with the lifestyle he lived and the past he came from. but it happened, you entered his life and blessed him with three beautiful girls he cherished with every part of his heart. only him and tommy couldn't watch their children play together and grow together, there was no visiting simon's mom on the weekend as she cooked her famous roast for the family to share. those dreams died the day he buried his family 6 feet into the ground
"oh... m'sorry daddy" his girls have shifted their happy chatty demeanour to a more sad one as they notice their father lost in his thoughts. he's snapped out of his trance as he looks back down to the girls who barely come up to his knees with a soft chuckle as he sits down on one of the steps. cradling them in his arms in a gentle hug. he could see the sharpness of tommy's eyes in theirs, the placement of the soft dimple in their smiles just like his mothers. even if his family physically wasn't here, parts of them were always carried throughout
"nothin to be worry for, darling. i wish you could've met her, she would've loved you three" he chuckled fondly, his heart aching softly in his chest as he holds his daughters close. maybe one day when they get older, he'll explain the backstory of their late grandma and their late uncle but for now, he'll bear that burden alone
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smokeysweater · 24 days
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Masterlist It had been a good arrangement so far. You and John I mean, it had been pretty comfortable since you originally applied for the ad, it still baffled you that nobody else wanted this, 250 pounds every two weeks, to live in a nice house in the gorgeous countryside, with a roommate who is barely here. Even when John is here, he’s civil and nice. Doesn’t talk to you unless needed, using the sweetest of nicknames when he does as well. ” hey sweetheart, I’m about to run to the grocery store, ya need anything?” ”let me just squeeze right past you, doll” ” Thanks for the dinner love, it's delicious as always.” His voice, that deep, smooth British tone mixed with the most knee-dropping nicknames, it’s a wonder how you’ve survived this long with him invading your mind every time you go to bed. so it was a good thing you two had going on, he left for months on end, leaving you with the house you barely paid rent for, you’ve seen the bill, you know it’s not 250 pounds, that barely scraps it. You’ve tried confronting him about it, but he just hit you right back with a “Don’t worry about it sweetheart, just let me handle it.” …yeah you didn’t fight back against that one. honestly, before you realise it, three years have passed, 3 nice years of having a giant, beautiful house in the countryside all by yourself with a sometimes roommate and only paying dirt for rent, and you might be the luckiest person you know. it had occurred to you one day however, since it had been three years since you’ve started living with John, or as you’ve heard some people call him, Captain Price, that you two were common law.So, you thought it was at least a little funny, so you brought it up one day. You had been waiting for a week when he was home, it had been a bit since he got back, you decided now would be the moment to tell him, with you two sitting at the dining table eating a dinner John had prepared for you two The utensil’s that clattered and Clinked against the plates filled the mostly silent room, there was no tension against you two, just happy to let the quiet fill the air, so you took this as an oppuritinty to tell the older man.  “Hey John,” you spoke, prompting him to look up, baby blue eyes peering up at you, threatening to still your very being. “You know, since it’s been three years since we’ve lived together, we’re technically in a common law marriage now, funny right? I mean you're barely here but the kingdom decides we’re ‘married’” You chuckled, putting air quotations at the married part, you didn’t look Price in the eyes when you said this, focusing on the plate in front of you. so you were unable to see the way his eyes darkened, how his knuckles seemed to whiten with how tightly he gripped his knife and fork. His breathing silently froze for a moment, but the moment you looked back up again, he went back to normal, as if to hide what motions exactly ran through him like a fright train. ” that so?.. spouse we should do something to celebrate, huh doll?” Price asked, in the hushed velvety tone he always carried when talking to you. you shrugged, uncaring. “I mean, we don’t have to, I don’t think it matters, we’re not married.” You reminded Price casually, too preoccupied to see the way Price twitched at that.
”I suppose not.” He mumbled back.
That small moment set off a chain of events that would change your relationship for the better or worse.
the next morning, you felt stranger than usual, it felt.. weird, and wrong. But, naive ol’ you, shrugged it off, getting up for the day, but when you looked down at you beside the table to grab your phone, you noticed something. curiously, you picked up a ring, a pretty little thing, the red gem glinting bright in the Sun, the silver band attached to it feeling smooth and cool against your skin. next to it, was a small note. ’Hey sweetheart. Had to leave early, I’ll be back, I promise, I got you something for Our marriage, Hope you like it. Be back soon To Mx Price. Love, John Price’ what the fuck.
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endlessthxxghts · 2 months
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Ch1: New Beginnings
teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k
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Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.
Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).
A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx
series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog
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August 2024
“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”
“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned. 
The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?
“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”
Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams. 
“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements. 
Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”
“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much. 
“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”
Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had. 
Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath. 
Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”
“Frankie, please,” he corrects. 
“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”
Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off. 
“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.” 
Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person. 
So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way. 
He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert. 
“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him. 
“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall. 
A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach. 
“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”
Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp. 
Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”
“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”
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Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.
Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena. 
“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?” 
Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”
“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad. 
Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?” 
Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy. 
“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie. 
“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek. 
The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter. 
“So,” Frankie states. 
“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free. 
“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.
“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner. 
“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself. 
“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds. 
His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans. 
She hums, nodding her head triumphantly. 
“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”
“What do you mean, papi?”
“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?” 
She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms. 
“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”
“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride. 
“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”
Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”
“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”
“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.
“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety. 
It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on. 
She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair. 
The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.
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For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous. 
You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all. 
So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous. 
This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system. 
However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.
You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could. 
It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it. 
“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed. 
“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?
“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”
And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels. 
You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling. 
The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing. 
Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face. 
“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off. 
You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”
“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink. 
You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.
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“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.
Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”
“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”
“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.” 
“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”
Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”
“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice. 
“Let me talk to Elena-”
“Fish, she’ll be fine-”
Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.” 
Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”
Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night. 
“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face. 
“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door. 
Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”
Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”
“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead. 
“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”
“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein. 
“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”
Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”
“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks. 
Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”
“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.” 
“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”
“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.
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It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.
He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart. 
He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers. 
He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again. 
“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.” 
“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering. 
“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.” 
“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor. 
“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”
“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her. 
“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.” 
Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety. 
Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts. 
“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way. 
“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.” 
This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”
“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that. 
Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort. 
“I have one idea,” she offers. 
Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.
“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”
“Deal,” Frankie tells her.
“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.” 
Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face. 
“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”
“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this. 
“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”
If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”
Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”
He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.
“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.” 
He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.
What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car. 
The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.
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Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day. 
You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone. 
[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!
[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here… 
[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.
[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here. 
[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass. 
[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride? 
[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late. 
[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?
[5:57PM Leah] 👀
[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀
[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends? 
[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no. 
[5:59PM] Wow. 
[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit. 
You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no. 
You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts. 
It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive. 
When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time. 
With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride. 
The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first. 
The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.
Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar. 
“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage. 
Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away. 
It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her. 
Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that. 
You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”
“What are you getting?”
“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”
“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”
Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”
“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly. 
The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”
She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back. 
In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay. 
Two minutes, she mouths. 
You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch. 
As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise. 
A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”
“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend. 
You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to. 
“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on. 
As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too. 
“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand. 
Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you. 
“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more. 
“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink? 
He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him. 
“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you. 
“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention. 
You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything. 
The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept. 
Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice. 
As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache. 
The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.
“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours. 
Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.
“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.
You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp. 
He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now. 
Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again. 
Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.
His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses. 
Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet. 
He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink. 
You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you. 
“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip. 
“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure. 
“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action. 
Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it. 
Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him. 
“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper. 
“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity. 
“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”
You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety. 
“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy. 
“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him. 
“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break. 
Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt. 
“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine. 
Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.” 
“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.
He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations. 
He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face? 
Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again. 
Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.
“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue. 
You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you. 
“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. 
The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing. 
Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?” 
“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily. 
He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start. 
“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask. 
He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place. 
“You okay?” He checks in. 
You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam. 
You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off. 
“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself. 
“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out. 
You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?! 
You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway. 
Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced. 
“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!” 
You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool. 
“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?” 
She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease. 
When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later. 
Except, he doesn’t.
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Monday, August 19th. 
Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area. 
No luck. Of course. 
Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping. 
“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs. 
“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head. 
Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon. 
Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged. 
Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him. 
He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye: 
Ground Rules
He flips to the page. 
He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are. 
His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh. 
No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions. 
He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix. 
“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back. 
Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?” 
“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer. 
Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly. 
“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles. 
Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them. 
Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?” 
“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory. 
“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”
On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much. 
When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena. 
Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind. 
What’s wrong? He thinks. 
What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you. 
And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.
Fuck. 
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I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.
Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶
Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.
Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!
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daenysx · 2 months
Note
hi love <3
first off i wanted to say that i find myself lurking in your blog way too much than I should (i mean i have a life and i cant spend all day reading your fics, OR CAN I?) and i love how you write and hejsusjsjsj you just make my day, so i hope you’re having a wonderful day gorgeous💗
second of all, can i please request either a poly marauders or a sirius (or James whichever you think fits the story better) x fem reader where her birthday passed and just no one seemed to really care except for the boys? Some of her friends forgot and some others gave a half hearted birthday wish and she just feels sort of unloved? and just lots of hurt/comfort/cuddles/fluff hehe thanks
if u cant tell, im projecting🤧 my birthday was on the 9th and lets just say it was not that important of a deal for most people :)
you are the sweetest angel, my love, happy late birthday!! i'm really sorry, you deserved the best birthday and i hope you can accept this little fic as your birthday gift!! ♡
it's my first time writing for poly!marauders, please share your thoughts with me!!
poly!marauders x fem!reader, fluff + a little hurt/comfort
your cheeks ache from giving smiles to your boys all day.
it wasn't an eventful birthday for you, but it was so so nice. you woke up to kisses from james, his whispers of sweet nothings as remus came back to your side from kitchen. sirius's hair was wet from the shower he took as he does every morning, you and james watched how remus took care of his curls from bed. you spent more than an hour just staying in bed, feeling more loved than ever with their words and kisses.
when remus finally convinced you to leave the bed, james offered to carry you in his arms all the way to kitchen. "anything for my birthday girl." he said, your lovely boy. sirius kissed your lips as he handed you a cup of coffee, pancakes and fruits were just like you enjoy. a perfect birthday breakfast, you laughed at every joke sirius made, accepted every forehead kiss from james. remus was giving you heart eyes, you blushed from the attention you got. he gave you an easy smile and you blew him a kiss.
the boys had plenty of offers for your birthday celebration but you decided to stay at home. you wanted a quiet day with them, just being lazy and careless. thinking about wishes and dreams about your new age. you liked how easy it was to do as you wanted with them, no explanations or excuses needed.
you could hear the whispers coming from kitchen when james got you comfy on his chest, cuddling on the couch. he kissed your hair, your arms tightened around his body. legs tangled, fingers curled up on his shirt.
you checked your phone, the screen was bright, showing there's a birthday message from lily. you smiled, replied her long text. there were other texts from a few of your friends. well, technically they were birthday messages but- none of them felt like they actually wished you the happiest birthday. why would people text like celebrating someone's birthday is a chore? you frowned, couldn't accept the fact that you were in fact, waiting for something better. didn't you deserve it?
james noticed how your smile fell, he could see the texts on the screen. "happy birthday, love u." that girl was supposed to be one of your closest friends. you really were expecting something more- heartfelt? you always tried to make sure people you like know how much they are liked by you, texted the sweetest messages to them, cared about their birthdays more than yours. it didn't feel fair. still, you didn't want to jump into conclusions and ruin your day. you let go of your phone to wrap your arms around james.
he held you gently, kissing you again. "anything wrong?" he whispered. you shook your head. it was nothing important. he nodded, giving you a little time to collect your thoughts.
"angel." he said, "there's something here you may want to see."
you looked up, saw your boyfriends holding a birthday cake for you. it was beautiful, covered in silver colored candles. remus held the cake for you to see better as you sat up, the candles were definitely sirius's choice. you forgot about the texts, seeing them smile at you like you were the most precious thing in the whole world was making your head dizzy with affection.
you blew the candles, making a wish. james's fingers were drawing circles on your arm. you kissed your boyfriends thank you, a slow but happy tear rolled on your cheek. "come on, sweetheart, there's nothing to cry about. you're still young." sirius said, winking. his lips were curved into a playful smile.
"let's eat the cake." you said. "god, it looks so good."
"you remember remus's friend who owns a bakery? we got the cake from his shop." james said.
"who, charles?" you asked, remembering details about charles for a second. "i always see the cakes he makes on instagram, he's really good."
"first slice for the birthday girl." remus said, giving you your cake. "happy birthday, sweetheart. we love you so much."
"i love you so much." you said before taking a bite. "it's delicious. thank you."
sirius ate his own slice in three seconds. "this is better than i expected. another slice, please moony."
you kissed his chocolate covered lips fondly. hours were spent on eating cake, gossipping about sirius's workplace, drinking tea, and changing into different cuddling positions. your phone was silent, no one called. there were no other texts. it's weird, you thought. even the people who celebrated their birthdays with you didn't bother to give you a small text.
the day is almost finished, you are full with cake and sweets. james insists on doubling up the princess treatment he gives you every day and helps you with your skincare. you are sitting on bed as his fingers apply your night cream on your achy cheeks, sirius and remus brush their teeth at the bathroom after you and james leave for bed. your hand reaches to your phone. nothing.
"i think," james starts. "it's time you should tell me what's been on your mind all day."
you shrug. what can you tell? expecting birthday wishes from people feels weird. maybe they forgot. maybe they didn't care enough. should you remind them it's your birthday? no, that's stupid. is it? you don't know.
"what's upsetting my baby on her birthday?" he says. "tell me."
"there's something upsetting our baby?" sirius steps in after remus. "what happened?"
you give them a smile that says you're okay. "nothing." you start. remus's eyes find yours, worry sparks in them. "it's just- the girls and my friends from work- some of them forgot about my birthday, and other messages were a bit weird."
"i'm sorry." remus says, holding your hand. "i'm really sorry about that, angel."
"it's okay." you say. "i mean, no one has to remember."
"um, yeah, they kinda have to at some point." sirius says. "you do your best to remember things about your friends and you have every right to expect the same from them."
"i know." you say. you know, but what can you do?
james leans in to kiss your cheek. "i know it's terrible. you don't deserve it. i think- it's not your fault, yeah? you didn't do anything wrong. you deserve the best."
he says the last part silently like he's sad and it breaks your heart. they tried to make your day perfect, they don't deserve to end it sad. you don't deserve to sleep upset on your birthday. you look into james's eyes. "i already have the best." you say. "have you seen our boyfriends?"
you are being sweet on him. "have you seen yourself?" you say, pulling his face to kiss him. he smiles into the kiss. "i'm okay, really." you say.
"of course you are." sirius says. "in what world the birthday girl goes to bed upset?"
remus brushes a kiss on sirius's curls. they are lovely, sitting up in bed to comfort you the best they can. you need a bit time, you think. it's a hard thing to carry, feeling like you are not loved by some people you care about. it's not fair to the boys though. you are so incredibly loved by them and you feel it in your every breath. you can think about the others later. for now, you only need to show your love to your boys. the three people who deserve it the most.
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pierregazly · 9 months
Text
you make loving fun ꨄ pierre gasly smau
pierre gasly x fem!russell!reader
in which pierre has made it obvious he worships the ground his fiancé walks on, but her brother just has to make it clear he can fight if he needs to.
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ynrussell has posted a story
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liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, and others
replies
pierregasly je t'aime mon chérie 🤍
georgerussell63 you better be sleeping in different beds. and the food better be fully cooked
ynrussell we've been engaged for 9 months. ynrussell and it's a fucking croissant it's obviously fully cooked you dolt
pierregasly
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tagged ynrussell
liked by ynrussell, charles_leclerc, carmenmmundt, and 650,093 others
pierregasly what a great winter break with my favourite person! time to get back to work 💪😈
view all 3,209 comments
ynrussell i love youuuu
ynrussell thanks for massaging my sore ankles after :(
liked by pierregasly
username they are literally so CUTE
username i want to be ynrussell so bad... like she's so pretty and pierre brings her EVERYWHERE
georgerussell63 this doesn't seem like a safe date option
georgerussell63 my sister better be in one piece by the time you finally return her home
ynrussell i am a grown woman??? i am not being returned home??? what is WRONG with you pierregasly i think i'll keep her actually, sorry mate!
username do you guys think george is serious or is he just playing a joke
username he comments on EVERY single one of their posts... my mans gonna fuck pierre up if he ever steps out of line frfr
liked by georgerussell63
ynrussell
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tagged pierregasly
liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 46,209 others
ynrussell a special happy birthday to the king of my heart 🫶🏻 one year closer to 30 handsome!!!
view 306 comments
username happy birthday pierregasly!!!!!!
charles_leclerc 🥳🥳🥳
pierregasly do you want to fight??? one year closer to 30???
georgerussell63 i've got this ynrussell, don't threaten my sister or it's game over
pierregasly je t'aime 🤍
georgerussell63 is there a video of pierre getting his face shoved into the cake? i'll pay good money for it
username george omg
username LMAOOOO pleaaaase george is ruthless does he even like his future brother in law
georgerussell63 no. happy birthday pierregasly.
username why is no one talking about how he's looking at her in that second photo???? the pure love??? im gonna cry i hate that i love them
username the 😭 king 😭 of 😭 my 😭 heart 😭
ynrussell
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tagged carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, and 12 others
liked by pierregasly, georgerussell63, alexandrasaintmleux, and 52,951 others
ynrussell spoiled absolutely rotten by all the wonderful women in my life this weekend, thank you all for making my bridal shower so special 🫶🏻 (and an extra special thank you to my best friend for the beautiful present he dropped off for me in the middle of it all)
view all 902 comments
carmenmmundt had so much fun celebrating the beautiful bride to be!!
username it makes my heart so full that carmen's planned so much of ynrussell's pre-wedding stuff, she has to be in the wedding party omg
username do we think george is one of pierre's groomsmen???
username if pierre doesn't want to die on his wedding day i'd hope so lol
georgerussell63 i hope pierregasly didn't ruin your special day by showing up. so happy to see how overjoyed you were in all the photos 💗
ynrussell pls stop harassing my fiancé. love you georgie.
username i literally cannot WAIT for their wedding, i just know pierre is going to go all out to make sure ynrussell is the happiest bride in the world (or george will get his ass)
pierregasly i stand by what i said, prettiest flowers for my prettiest flower 💐
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georgerussell63
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tagged ynrussell
liked by ynrussell, pierregasly, carmenmmundt, and 879,092 others
georgerussell63 can't believe the little girl who used to make me zip up her raincoat on the way to school is getting married tomorrow. honoured to be apart of your special day. and even though i mention it 14 times in my speech, pierregasly i know where you live and i will hurt you if you ever hurt her.
view all 2,311 comments
ynrussell 🥺🥺
ynrussell i'm going to cry. love you always georgie 🥺
username the picture of him zipping up her coat i'm going to cry... my fav brother/sister duo HONESTLY
username i just know this man would get away with murder for her if he had to
username pierre would not stand a chance against george
username bestie be so fucking for real, george's skinny ass ankles wouldn't stand a chance against my man pierre
carmenmmundt i think you've made enough threats by now?
liked by pierregasly, ynrussell, and 63 others
pierregasly may as well make it 15 times, i just dont think 14 is enough little brother
georgerussell63 do NOT call me that
pierregasly and yngasly
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liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, alpinef1team, and 1,673,942 others
pierregasly i am truly the luckiest man in the world to finally be able to call myself your husband. the tears were worth seeing you in the most beautiful dress, on the most beautiful day. i will hold my vows until the day i die. je t'aime, i love you.
view all 3,564 comments
username omg he cried!!!!!!
username i KNEW IT i knew pierre would be a crier my man's looks like he would be
username do we think george made him cry
username girl dont be delulu i'd be crying too if yngasly was about to be my wife
georgerussell63 i have a video of you crying. don't act up.
pierregasly wouldn't count on it lil bro. username pierre may get beat up without it even involving yngasly as this rate
yngasly can't believe i bagged myself such a looker
yngasly i love you mr. gasly
pierregasly i love you mrs. gasly
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honestly this was one of those one's that i started, imagined myself in this position and then basically HAD to finish it. thank you to the lovely person who requested a russell!sister!reader who is engaged to pierre, who constantly get's threatened by george. i hope you all loved it!!
my requests are open
taglist:
@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @sarahedwards16 @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios
if your name is struck through it wouldn't let me tag you! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist/if you're missing from it :)
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fyorina · 3 months
Text
ᡣ𐭩 DRIVE
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FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: against all odds, you come across dazai osamu again, and you somehow find yourself roped into being his date for an event celebrating the armed detective agency. you're not falling. you swear. (you're lying). {wordcount: 9.2k; fem!reader, sfw, romance}
AUTHOR'S NOTES part 2 is hereeeeee! i hope you guys enjoy, this scene had one of my favs to write so i hope you like it too!! reblogs definitely appreciated!! i’ll reblog with the taglist as soon as it decides to show on the dash & in the tags!
SEE: BADLANDS SERIES MASTERLIST READ: UNREAL UNEARTH SIDE B
“We really need to stop meeting like this.”
You aren’t sure how you feel as you stare at the man hanging upside down, tangled in a tapestry—amused, concerned, partly puzzled, a combination of all three really. Dazai Osamu looks half out of it as his gaze focuses on you; you wonder how long he’s been hanging like this, and how he managed to get in this position in the first place. 
For the second time in two weeks, the man manages to catch you off guard, this time on your way home from a date that had gone horribly, horribly wrong with a classmate; you’d already spent the past two hours wandering the streets upset over all of this and you were ready to get home, but now you find yourself hesitating.
“Ah, my sweet, sweet belladonna, my lovely savior,” Dazai sighs, directing a quick, flirty smile toward you. “Won’t you help a poor, suffering man?” 
“How did you manage this, Dazai?” you ask, letting the entertainment slip into your tone to distract yourself from the stress of the failed date as you look around and try to figure out the best way to get him down from where he’s entangled. You’d have to climb up onto the nearby dumpster to get enough reach to cut him down but you don’t even have anything to cut him down with. 
“I tried to jump off that building,” he sighs, and you follow his gaze up to the tall building right to the left of the two of you. Your lips part in shock, you suppose you should have figured something like that because how else would he end up tangled upside down in a tapestry, but it’s still jarring to hear. “But I hit this on the way down and got stuck. I’ve been here for way too long, so many people have passed me by without helping—what a cruel, cruel world.”
“You are either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive,” you murmur, catching sight of a jagged piece of metal underneath the dumpster, picking it up and doing your best to climb onto it, but it’s difficult in heels and a dress. “Why are you so intent on dying?”
“Why are you so intent on living?” Dazai hits you with a question back instead of responding, peering up at you as he slowly spins in the air while you do your best to cut through the thick tapestry. 
You frown at the question, brows furrowing. “Because I have things I still need to accomplish. Goals to achieve. Don’t you?” 
“The only goal I need to achieve is finding a beautiful lady to do a double suicide with,” Dazai says, lips curling up into another charming smile but the effects of it are diminished because of the way he was still hanging upside down, spinning in slow circles. “Would you like to join me, bella?”
“Maybe in fifty years,” you say dryly. 
“I’ll-”
Dazai doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you finally cut through the tapestry and he tumbles down head first to the ground. You bite back a smile as he lets out a loud yelp, crumpling on the ground in an unceremonious heap. You lower yourself back down to the ground, eyes settling on him as you watch him push himself into a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. 
He looks up at you through his lashes, the charming smile on his lips a bit more lazy and casual as he looks over you. “My, aren’t you dressed pretty? What’s the occasion?” As you prepare to give a bullshit excuse, he holds up his hand and says: “Wait! Let me guess. A long day of work and no one to go out with after, so you decided to get all dressed up and walk around the city to see if fate would lead you to someone, and since our fingers are tied by that thin red thread, naturally, you were led right to me. Oh, my fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death so easily despite so many attempts, destiny refused to let me die as we’re predestined to be together.”
You stare at him, watching as he presses the back of his hand to his forehead, tilting his head back because what the fuck?
“I was on a date,” you say, ignoring the entire rest of what he said to answer his question, truthfully at that because his whole tirade about destiny and fate had thrown you off. 
Dazai wilts, but then straightens up again and says, “Well, it couldn’t have been a good one if he didn’t at least walk you home.”
You grimace. “I think I should be insulted by how pleased you look at my night being ruined,” you mutter, holding your hand out to him to help him up. 
Dazai places his hand in yours; long, thin fingers wrapped around your hand as you help him to his feet. He doesn’t let go immediately, nor does he back away, brown eyes lidded as he looks down at you, so close that your clothes were brushing his. The corner of his lips tilt up, his fingertips grazing your inner wrist. “How about we make the most of a ruined night then?”
You raise your eyebrows—you think you should get back to your apartment, get some work done to make up for how much of a mess the night had turned out, but you find yourself hesitating because do you really want to go wallow alone now? 
“How do you plan we do that?” you ask instead of giving him an answer, although he evidently takes it as an answer considering his face lights up at your words.
“Come on,” he says, tugging your arm as he turns to make his way down the sidewalk, dragging you along with him. “I’ll show you someplace.”
“O-okay,” you fumble over your words in surprise, but it isn’t like Dazai is giving you much of a choice considering the way he’s pulling you along with him. 
Your face feels hot when you notice the people still prowling the streets shooting the two of you odd looks—Dazai doesn’t seem to care, focusing on getting you to whatever destination he has planned, but you can feel their eyes burning into you with every step you take. 
“Ignore them,” Dazai says, as if he can read your thoughts. He tosses his head over his shoulder as he looks at you, the corner of his lips curling up into another lazy smile that makes your breath catch. “They don’t know how to have fun.”
“Yeah,” is all you reply with, a bit doubtfully as you turn your gaze up to the dark skies, where the dark clouds you had noticed earlier in the day are now gathered over the city. “It’s going to rain.”
Dazai only raises his eyebrows, face riddled with disbelief as he turns fully to look at you, walking backwards without a care in the world as he forces people to walk around him. “Now, you care about rain?” he asks, referring to your first meeting.
You let out a puff of laughter. “I guess you have a point.”
“Naturally,” he says, teeth gleaming beneath the streetlamps as his grin widens. “I’m one of the Agency’s sharpest detectives, after all.”
“How humble,” you note, but your voice is light, teasing, and you’re almost embarrassed. 
Dazai is unbothered by your playful dig, spinning back around to turn down the sidewalk onto a busier street, carelessly pulling you along with him and causing people to swerve around the two of you. You try to fumble out apologies as people shoot the two of you dirty looks but Dazai barely gives you enough time to speak the words as he continues down the street. 
“Have you heard?” Dazai asks, returning to walking backward so he can look at you, garnering even more angry looks. “We’re heroes now.”
You have heard, of course, it’s all over the news. You hadn’t been in Yokohama when everything happened, you were visiting a friend outside of the city, but you’d seen it all going down on the TV as it was happening. And naturally, it’s impossible to avoid all of the news articles honoring the Armed Detective Agency and their part in taking down the threat to the city afterward.
“I have,” you drawl, and then add after a moment’s hesitation: “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating instead of…”
Instead of trying to kill yourself.
“This is me celebrating,” Dazai says mournfully, so casually that it takes you aback as he tilts his head back in grief. “It was supposed to be successful this time.”
“Well…” You aren’t sure what to say to that, the words dying on your lips as the first raindrops begin to fall from the sky. “I’m glad it wasn’t successful,” you finally decide upon, averting your gaze as Dazai’s face shifts into one of surprise as he looks down at you.
His lips part as if to say something, but seems to decide against it, instead letting a smile slip onto his face as he says: “Speaking of celebrations, my sweet belladonna, this hero needs a date to the celebratory event that the government is hosting for us in two weeks. Join me?”
You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, as the rain begins to come down harder—a flash flood, you realize. You watch as people start scattering around you, running for cover, but you and Dazai remain standing in the middle of the sidewalk, him awaiting your answer and you trying to figure out how to politely say you’d rather die than go to a celebratory event with people you don’t know.
You wonder if Dazai suspects your answer because he does not, in fact, give you the chance to speak.
Your eyes widen as he tugs you closer to him. “What’re you doing?” you stutter over your words as his free hand finds your hip and he spins the two of you around recklessly, forcing several people to dodge again as they run past the two of you and into a store to wait for the sudden rain to pass. Only his firm grip on you keeps you from slipping on the puddles forming on the sidewalk beneath the two of you. “Dazai!” 
“Dancing,” is all he replies with, eyes shining as he lifts his arm to twirl you beneath it, your heels splashing in a puddle as he drags you along with his dance like a puppet. “It’s supposed to be romantic—dancing in the rain—I’ve seen it in movies, are you romanced, yet?” 
You aren’t sure what makes you want to laugh, maybe it’s the absurdity of the situation or the way Dazai keeps having to blink away the raindrops that fall into his eyes, but before you know it, you're biting your lower lip to withhold the giggles rising through your chest. 
“Are you laughing at me?” Dazai gasps in mock offense as he spins you outward once. You nearly trip over your heels but before you can, he’s spinning you back toward him, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips you down. “And here I was thinking I was doing a good job romancing you.”
His voice drops an octave as he lowers his voice, dark eyes searching yours, and you think that there’s absolutely nothing romantic about this. Rain is pouring down over the two of you, his hair is wet and matted against his forehead, dripping in your face as he hangs over you, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his body heat radiating against yours. Lightning webs across the sky above him, illuminating his face in a way that has your breath catching. You’re in heels and a dress and you can so easily trip and break your ankle, it’s only his hold on you preventing that from happening. It’s dangerous, and stupid—and maybe it’s a little romantic.
“I-”
You aren’t even able to get the admission from your lips because as soon as you begin to speak, someone slams into Dazai from behind. You yelp and his eyes widen as he stumbles forward, twisting the two of you around so he takes the brunt of the fall. He hits the ground hard with an ‘oof,’ half in the muddy grass and half on the sidewalk, and you fall on top of him, lips parted in shock.
“Well,” Dazai finally says after a few moments of stunned silence. “This is distinctly less romantic.”
And you laugh. Unable to hold it back now, you burst into laughter—hands braced on his chest, body flush against his, there’s mud splattered across his face and you’re pretty sure your makeup must be running down your cheeks from the rain. You think that your heels are probably ruined and you’d have to spend hours getting the stains out of your dress, but you laugh because you can’t remember the last time you actually had fun and weren’t stressed about school and the future, and your night had been going so horribly that you’d lost any hope of it taking a turn for the better. You might’ve been crying a bit too, you aren’t sure why, but it’s raining so you hope that he doesn’t notice.
You notice Dazai’s eyebrows lift a bit in surprise before his face seems to soften, a small smile tugging at his lips as he lets his head fall back against the mud.
“So,” he says, “about that date?”
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“Nobody believes I have a date for the event,” Dazai complains two weeks later as he enters your apartment and throws himself onto your couch, watching as you dab on some dark red lipstick—an occurrence you’d become quite used to the past two weeks, because evidently Dazai Osamu does not need a key nor invitation into your home, he just picks the lock and comes right in. At least you’re expecting him this time. “Atsushi-kun laughed in my face. He laughed in my face! Can you believe it? After everything I’ve done for him, the nerve.”
You grin, glancing up into your mirror to catch his eyes. “To be honest, I still don’t believe you have a date for the dinner and I am your date.”
Dazai blanches, throwing his arm over his face as he slumps into the couch. “Et tu, bella?” he sighs sorrowfully and you laugh, spinning around in your chair to face him. 
“Think of it this way,” you say, twisting your lipstick back into its container and placing it into your purse. Dazai peek up from the couch, eyes focusing on you as you speak. You almost feel a bit flustered under his gaze, it’s more intense than you expected. “You’ll get to see the looks on their face when they realize that you do actually have a date.”
Dazai brightens a bit at your words and then, as if a sudden thought passed through his head, he begins cackling like a madman—although you’re beginning to think the description is far more apt than you believed, Dazai Osamu is simply not sane. “Kunikada-kun is going to be so mad that I have a date and he doesn’t.”
“You’re wrinkling your suit, sit up straight,” you say and turn your attention back to the mirror, discreetly watching as Dazai lets out an exaggerated sigh before doing as you ask. Your eyes linger on him for a moment—he looks different dressed up nicely in a sleek, dark suit than his typical tan trench coat. He still wears those odd bandages all over his body, but you suppose that’s just a him thing, and no fancy event would get him to take them off. You can’t quite place what the exact difference is but you find that your gaze keeps dragging back to him. 
He catches you staring and winks, you roll your eyes and look away, grateful that your embarrassment doesn’t show on your face as you glance one last time at yourself in the mirror to ensure that nothing is out of place
Dazai, you have learned over the past two weeks, can’t stand silence, so you aren’t surprised when you hear him start complaining about something else as soon as the conversation dies down. 
“Did you know I pushed two of my little protégés to work with each other?” he asks, reaching out to grab the papers on your coffee table when he thinks you aren’t looking. You throw one of your makeup brushes at him. He yelps and draws back his hand.
“That’s nice,” you say absently. “Do they work together well?” 
“Oh, they work together great,” Dazai says, and you glance back at him when you notice the sheer bitterness in his tone. “I think they love each other now.”
Your brows furrow, unsure of why Dazai seems so irritated by this. “That’s… great, isn’t it?” you asked slowly.
“No!” Dazai says so vehemently that you think he might leap to his feet in outrage. “That is not great. They are not allowed to be in a relationship before me. I forbid it.”
Your lips part a bit, a noise caught between a laugh and shock escaping them as you look over at Dazai again. “Okay,” you say, dragging out the word in amusement. Dazai shoots an affronted expression toward you in response, but you don’t give him the chance to speak again. You rise to your feet and swing your purse over your shoulder, glancing at the time, realizing you had about fifteen minutes to be at the City Hall, which is a forty minute drive without traffic and it’s a Saturday evening, so there’s always traffic. 
“Oh god, we have to-”
You turn to leave only to bump right into Dazai. Blinking in confusion, you look up at him to ask what he’s doing but the words die on your tongue.
He’s too close as he looks down at you, you can smell the faint scent of his cologne and you can feel his body brushing yours, the corner of his lips twitching up. “Have I earned a kiss yet?” he hums, leaning his face down a bit so that his lips are almost barely grazing yours. 
“Maybe,” you say, eyes flickering down to his lips for the sparest second before you watch his eyes light up only for you to take a step back, “but even if you did, you’re not messing up my makeup.”
Dazai looks as if he’d been shot in the heart, head dropping back as he groans and pouts at your words. “You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs, voice a long whine. “Won’t you indulge me with just a taste?”
“No,” you say, slipping past him to make your way over to the door where the keys to your car are hanging on a small hook. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”
The exaggerated grief that paints Dazai’s expression instantly disappears as he eyes your keys with a look that’s nothing short of devious. Distantly, you frown and close your fist around your keys, putting them out of his sight, but Dazai is undeterred, walking over to you.
“I can drive us,” he says, that same expression on his face as he holds his hand out. You don’t trust the look on his face, nor do you trust the way he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet. “It’s the least I can do, right?” 
You’re doubtful, looking down at his extended hand as he waits for you to drop the keys in them. “I can drive,” you say, but Dazai immediately pouts at your words, looking genuinely bummed out, and you feel a little bad because you don’t even like driving, you just don’t trust Dazai to be a good driver. You hesitate. “Do you even know how to drive?”
“Of course,” Dazai says hurriedly, dark eyes lighting back up.
You exhale, reaching out to place your keys in his hand—the smile on his face is wicked, dread builds in your gut. You think you might have made a mistake.
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You’re surprised that your car is still in one piece as Dazai parks crookedly across three spots in the parking lot of the city hall. You’re surprised that you are in one piece. You don’t move for a second, fingers still biting into the leather seat you’re buckled in, eyes wide and barely breathing. As Dazai turns the car off, you finally turn your head to the side to look at him before getting out of the car, grateful to be standing on solid ground.
“Never again.”
Dazai’s unbothered, as always—his smile is wide and restless, eyes exhilarated as they dart around the car, fingers clutching the keys as he finally steps outside. He looks as if he’d just won the lottery, that gleeful over having been given the chance to drive. You knew you should have gone with your gut when the man first asked if he could drive, and as miserable and anxiety-inducing it was racing through the streets, in between cars and half on the sidewalk, you think it might’ve been worth it, a bit, considering Dazai’s reaction.
“Maybe once more,” Dazai bargains, holding out his arm to you.
“Never again,” you repeat, but your voice is light as you take his arm and let him lead you up the steps to the city hall. “I cannot believe you didn’t get us pulled over.”
“Must not have been that bad then,” Dazai says, proudly. 
“Ha! More like they didn’t want to risk their own lives trying to stop you.”
Dazai pouts terribly and then adds petulantly, “But it was fun.”
“It was something alright,” you agree idly. You aren’t sure if you were having fun in the moment, you were more scared for your life and your car, but you suppose looking back on it was a bit entertaining. 
“You’re so mean, bella,” he sighs exaggeratedly. “You refuse my well-earned kiss, you mock me, now you insult my driving skills.”
“The only thing insulted tonight was my car,” you mutter to yourself, glancing back once more at it before Dazai steps forward to push open the wide doors to the city hall. 
Instantly, you’re met with the sound of loud chatter and laughter and a young, unfamiliar voice calling, “Dazai-san!” excitedly. 
Your gaze drifts up from Dazai to where a teen with silver hair and pretty eyes rushes up to the two of you. He’s so tunnel visioned on Dazai that he doesn’t even notice you until he’s standing right in front of you, and when he does, his eyes go so wide that you think they might pop right out of his skull. He looks between you and Dazai questioningly, lips parting and closing like a fish out of water.
Dazai looks like the cat that got the canary, eyes gleaming at the expression on Atsushi’s face and lips twitching up into a wicked smile. 
“Atsushi-kuuuuun,” he drags out the boy's name in a long sing-song. “Meet my sweet belladonna, the one you so rudely claim didn’t exist.”
Atsushi looks flustered as he turns his attention toward you, eyes wide with panic and redness rising to his cheeks. “I didn’t-I mean-I just-” he stutters so badly that you’re forced to take mercy on the poor boy.
“Don’t worry,” you say with an easy grin. “I wouldn’t believe I existed either coming from Dazai.”
Dazai gapes. Atsushi snickers, hand coming up to cover his mouth to hide his smile. Atsushi glances once at Dazai and then looks back at you and whispers, “Is he paying you?”
Dazai looks thoroughly offended.
“Unfortunately, he doesn't need to,” you say with a snort, "but I'm sure he would if he had to."
Dazai gasps. 
Atsushi snorts loudly and then looks a bit embarrassed. A woman with pretty eyes and short dark hair comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She throws a sharp grin at you. “You must be the infamous woman that Dazai has been talking about nonstop for two weeks,” she says, ignoring how Dazai looks like he wants to wither as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Blink twice if you need help.”
Dazai looks appalled now. “Yosano-sensei,” he complains, “That’s so-”
You pointedly blink twice. Yosano barks out a laugh and nearly chokes over it, Dazai gasps again, louder and far more dismayed. He slumps over your shoulder, burying his face into the top of your head. 
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he grumbles, voice muffled against your hair. 
You pat his waist as another man approaches the group of you, blonde hair tied back neatly in a ponytail and glasses hanging on the edge of his nose. His eyes are sharp and narrowed as he looks at where Dazai is draping himself all over you. “Oi, you shitty waste of bandages, have some decorum, would you? We're at a government event, stop throwing yourself at people.”
Dazai perks up, that unscrupulous smile instantly returning as his gaze focuses on the blonde. “Kunikida-kuuun,” he now sings the other man’s name, arm slipping around your waist to tug you into his side as he says. “Come meet my date. She’s a grad student at Waseda University.”
You have a distinct feeling that he’s rubbing it in Kunikida’s face, and from the way the man’s expression twists in genuine surprise at Dazai’s words, you figure that said feeling is correct. Kunikida turns his attention toward you. “And you’re with him?” he asks so distastefully that you almost laugh. “How did you even meet him?”
You give Dazai a side-eye, considering whether or not you should tell the truth. You notice the pleading expression on his face and squint, but before you can make your decision, he speaks up, voice loud and exaggerated: “A fateful encounter under the moonlit shore of the Zushi Beach, we stumbled into each other as if guided by the hand of god himself. I-”
Suspicious now of the sideways explanation he’s giving about your own meeting with him, and recalling the tale he regaled you of his meeting with the very boy standing a few feet away from you, you cut off Dazai and turn to Atsushi. “Atsushi-kun, how did you and Dazai meet?”
Dazai flounders, hands flying in front of as if to wave Atsushi off from answering, but Atsushi only scowls and says, “I had to jump into the Tsurumi River to free him from where he was floating upside down in a barrel trying to drown himself. Then he had the nerve to yell at me for it.”
Pointedly, you look at Dazai, who at least has the decency to look sheepish as he glances at you. “I did take him out to dinner after though,” he offers.
“With my money,” Kunikida rages loudly and Dazai throws his head back with a loud sigh of complaint. 
“None of you have my back. Not a single one of you,” Dazai accuses. “I would be a good wingman for you guys.”
Kunikida looks downright insulted. “You are the opposite of a wingman,” he spits. “In fact, you go out of your way to embarrass me in front of women, you lousy liar-”
“I will not have you make me look bad because you’re jealous any longer,” Dazai proclaims, holding his hand up as if to silence Kunikida. 
“Jealous?” Kunikida booms after Dazai, but Dazai is already dragging you away, stealing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handing one over to you with a misleadingly innocent smile. 
“It’s true, he’s jealous,” Dazai says, lacing his fingers into yours as he idly walks around the event hall with you, sipping at his champagne. “He has fifty-eight criteria for his ideal woman, you fit at least forty of them. He’s probably soooo mad you’re here with me.”
You blink and look at Dazai, wondering if you heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, what?” you ask with a laugh. “Fifty-eight-”
“Criteria, yeah,” Dazai confirms, “and he wonders why he can’t get a girlfriend—blames it on me.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m sure you don’t help.”
Dazai pouts but then his amusement fades a bit as his eyes scan the crowd of people, dark eyes taking upon an uncharacteristically serious visage. His lips tighten and the corner of his eyes wrinkle as he squints, as if something about the whole event is bothering him.
“You okay?” you ask and Dazai looks at you, a bit startled.
“Yeah,” he says, and you watch as he smooths his face out—as if you’d seen something you weren’t supposed to see and now he was trying to play it off and pretend you didn’t. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 
You’ve noticed over the past two weeks, as you’ve gotten to know Dazai Osamu a bit better, that he’s far more complex than he likes to portray himself to be. He puts on a theatrical show with bright smiles, loud words and over-exaggerated clownlike behavior, and he’s very good at making sure that the mask he puts on rarely wavers. You’ve only caught it faltering a few times, including that first time you met when you’d woken up in the middle of the night and caught his empty expression as he stared out into the storm. 
He doesn’t take well to people pointing it out though, you’ve realized. You tried to once a week ago when you caught him looking a bit lost and alone at a picture you had of you and two of your friends at a bar downtown. He’d broken into your apartment, as you’ve grown unfortunately used to over the past two weeks, and he was waiting for you to get back from class, snooping around while he waited. You weren’t supposed to be back until much later but your five o’clock class had been canceled, and he was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard you enter your apartment until you were a few feet away and asking if he was okay. 
He promptly fled with a half-assed excuse about an urgent mission and he didn’t come back to your apartment for two days. When he finally did, he acted like nothing happened. You think that it’s not really your right to push and you don’t want to step over any boundary of his, but a part of you is starting to long to figure out what exactly is behind the mask he wears and that scares you. You find yourself smiling a bit too much whenever Dazai is around, your face always feels a bit hotter and your brain always feels a bit fuzzy—the tell-tale signs of falling are starting to appear and you want to know the man behind the carefully constructed mask before you start to fall only to realize that there’s no one there to catch you. 
“You looked a bit lost in thought,” you finally say, testing the words on your tongue and scanning his face to see if even that would be too much of a push for him. 
It is.
“You see right through me, don’t you?” He laughs it off as a joke, but you can all but taste the bitterness in his tone and you can see the mirth thinly veiled behind his eyes. “I’ll be right back, the boss is calling me over.”
Dazai doesn’t wait for you to respond, he tosses you a wink and another casual smile before he sets off across the room but you aren’t fooled by the faux-charm this time, knowing that he’s fleeing because you got a bit too close to asking something that he doesn’t want to answer. Lifting your champagne glass back to your lips, you idly watch him make his way over to a handsome, silver-haired man who’s in deep discussion with a young man with messy black hair. 
You sigh and wave over a server to grab another flute of champagne before you even finish the one in hand, disappointment sweeping through you as you realize that the night is likely going to be a very, very long one.
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You’re finishing your fourth glass when you hear someone call your last name and pause a bit in confusion, turning around to face a tall middle-aged man with graying hair. Your eyes widen a bit as you recognize Tonan Tanzo, the Vice Minister of Justice, making his way toward you with a glass of wine in hand. 
“Tonan-san,” you greet, nodding your head a bit in respect for the older man, who you spoke to briefly at the Ministry’s panel at your university a week and a half ago. “It’s good to see you again.”
“And you,” the man replies distantly, more a nicety than anything else. “I must say, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You’re acquainted with the Armed Detective Agency?” 
There’s an edge to his voice, one that you’re not sure if you like. You wonder if he has an issue with the Agency, but you don’t see why he would, they’ve been nothing but helpful in fostering peace in the city.
You only smile idly. “Vaguely,” you respond, not giving away all too much. You wonder if Dazai knows anything about whatever the man’s issue is—you’d have to ask him later. 
Tonan hums, as if your answer wasn’t satisfactory, and then he says, “I was meaning to email you about the internship you were hoping for under Minister Hasegawa—all of the chaos of the past week has prevented me from doing so. I’ll be sure to do so by the end of this week so we can work to finalize something for winter break and the summer. Perhaps we can figure something out with your schedule to get you some training at the office before the semester ends.”
Your lips part a bit in shock at the suddenness of the offer but you school your expression quickly, mind racing as you force out, “I would appreciate that very much, Tonan-san. I’m sure we can work something out.”
Tonan Tanzo only hums again, nodding at you once before his eyes flicker up above you, a bit distastefully, just as you feel fingers brush your lower back. Tonan doesn’t even bother to greet Dazai as he turns to leave with a faint parting to you. You look up at Dazai, whose expression is cold as he stares after Tonan until the man disappears down a nearby hall. 
“What was that about?” Dazai asks, the cold expression melting as soon as he looks down at you, dark eyes warm and curious as if he hadn’t just abandoned you for almost an hour. You almost feel a bit flustered beneath the gentle stare. Almost. 
“I think he just offered me the job I was trying to get at the Ministry?” you say, still a bit dazed. “Although, I don’t think it’s necessarily because he wants me there, but it doesn’t really matter, I just need it for my resume.”
“Hm,” Dazai says to himself before his lips flicker up into a smile. “Well, congratulations are in order, I suppose. Good thing I grabbed us some more champagne.”
He lifts his other hand pointedly, showing off the two flutes he’d grabbed on the way back and you grin a bit, taking one from him, feeling a bit giddy now even though you’re pretty sure Tonan only hit you with the offer because of your affiliation with the Armed Detective Agency. 
“You should probably slow down,” you note as you sip your own glass. “You’re on like seven now.”
“I’m fine, and you have no room to talk,” Dazai shoots you a playful smile. “Dance with me.”
“What?” you ask, eyes widening as Dazai takes the glass from you before you even take a second sip, placing it down on a nearby table with his as he grabs your arm and drags you to the center of the room, onto a dancefloor that nobody is using. “Dazai, no.”
“Dazai, yes,” he corrects with a wild grin and your face is aflame as eyes begin to turn in the direction of the two of you, curious as to what’s going on. 
You want to die when Dazai forcibly spins you under his arm, much like that night out on the streets of Yokohama when the two of you ended up drenched and muddy except now there were dozens of eyes on you whereas then, people were more focused on trying to get to cover from the torrential downpour.
“I’m going to kill you,” you hiss, embarrassment flooding through you because for as thin as Dazai is, he’s deceptively strong and you cannot break free of the grip he has on your hand and waist. 
“Please,” he breathes out longingly. “A death at your hands would-”
“Stop.”
Dazai pouts, and then as if punishment for interrupting him, Dazai launches you into a dramatic dip, leaning down with a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat’s to shame as he nudges his nose against yours before pulling you back up and spinning you beneath his arm again. 
“This is embarrassing,” you say, but Dazai is paying no mind to the attention that the two of you are gaining—in fact, he looks utterly pleased with himself. “I-”
“Look! Yosano-sensei and Atsushi-kun are joining us!” Dazai cheers, turning the two of you just enough so that you can catch sight of Yosano physically dragging a protesting Atsushi out onto the near-empty dance floor.
“Yosano-sensei, please, I’ve never danced before,” Atsushi pleads, tugging his wrist away from the older woman but her grip is iron clad as she tugs the boy toward her, taking the lead in a wide ballroom dance.
“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai sings. “Don’t look so nervous.” 
Atsushi shoots Dazai a withering look, clearly blaming him for the unfortunate turn of events, and you relax a bit as you realize that Yosano pulling Atsushi onto the dance floor triggered a wave of several others: a dark-haired girl dragging an orange-haired boy onto the floor, the president of the Agency holding a hand out to a young girl who keeps shooting longing looks in the direction of the people dancing, a few older couples.
“See, everyone was just too nervous to be the first,” Dazai preens, tugging you close as he shifts from a wide and theatrical ballroom dance to a slower and more intimate one.
Your breath catches as he wraps an arm around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your lower back as his hand flattens. His other hand slips from where it’s intertwined with your to join his right on your waist. You’re so close to him that you can smell the faint scent of champagne on his breath as you loop your arms around his neck with a small smile. 
Dazai’s dark eyes are glittering as he looks down at you, warm as melted honey and soft as velvet, you’re almost entranced. His lips are curved up into a gentle smile—you think you want to kiss him, and you swallow nervously as soon as the thought crosses your mind. You also think he might be able to read your mind, because his smile becomes a bit more mischievous as he leans down. 
He doesn’t kiss you, but you think he might as well from how close he is to you—you swear that his lips are all but brushing yours. You feel a bit dizzy, and although there are enough people swaying and spinning around the two of you that you don’t really have to worry about any attention being on the two of you, you still feel a bit flustered by the thought of so many possibly seeing this. 
“Now, do I get my kiss?” he whispers, and your lips part to respond but no words leave them. You think that’s dangerous because you definitely should not kiss him right now but your brain will not cooperate in formulating the words. Dazai lets out a small puff of laughter, his breath is warm against your lips and you want to kiss him even more—dangerous, you think again. “Fine, fine, I’ll wait just a bit longer.”
He doesn’t back away though and your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as he hums along quietly to the music playing, swaying back and forth with you tucked neatly in your arms. You think this is far too intimate for two people who aren’t even technically dating (you won’t admit that you’d been questioning it earlier with how often he frequents your apartment and his casual intimacy with you and felt a bit embarrassed when he made his comment about his proteges being in a relationship before him), and you think you should probably back away, but instead you find your fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.
There’s something indecipherable in his eyes—conflicted and confused, but with a far heavier emotion thinly veiled behind it, something caught between longing and adoration but with a hint of melancholy. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you figure that now’s not the time and he’ll probably just blow you off in the same way he did before.
So instead, you just give him a small smile and watch as his dark eyes widen a fraction at the action—you wonder if he realized that you noticed that something’s up with him and more importantly, you wonder if you weren’t supposed to notice. With bated breath, you wait to see whether or not he’s going to close off. 
Around the two of you, the President lifts his arm to let the young girl spin beneath it, Atsushi is still letting out panicked protests as he and Yosano sweep across the dancefloor, an older couple laughs loudly as the man dips her and the teenage girl with dark hair is giggling as she takes the lead in the dance with the orange-haired boy. 
Dazai doesn’t react for what feels like an eternity. 
But then he smiles—it’s light and soft around the edges, matching your own, and though that indecipherable look is still in his eyes, maybe even more wistful now, you can’t help but notice that his shoulders feel much less tense beneath your arms.
You consider it a win.
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Dazai thinks that he might be in trouble. 
His gaze lingers on you as you make your way across the room in the direction of where Atsushi and Kyouka are talking. Atsushi had waved you over after everyone finally made their way off of the dance floor, Dazai’s a bit insulted because Atsushi and Kyouka both made it abundantly clear that they only wanted you to join them, which Dazai thinks is quite rude but what does he know?
And Dazai’s heart is racing, his cheeks feel warm, his lips are tingling, and he wants to blame it on the alcohol but he knows deep down that the alcohol is not the issue, you are.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
The thought rings through his head as he watches you walk away, eyes tracing your figure while an emotion that borders on longing wreaks havoc on his heart. His throat feels clogged with it, his lungs feel as if they’re filled with ash. You make it to Atsushi and Kyouka and Atsushi is immediately talking, animated and excited.
He thinks you look beautiful—you’re wearing a red dress and it clings as if it was made perfectly for you even though he’s pretty sure it’s a dress you’d found on Uniqlo’s clearance racks, he remembers you raving about your luck with it last week, and as you look over your shoulder in his direction, your eyes glitter as brightly as the rhinestones sitting on your collarbone, teeth gleaming as you smile at whatever Atsushi is saying to you. Dazai doesn’t dare to ponder what his protege could possibly be telling you to make you look at him like that, he doubts it’s anything good, but he finds that he doesn’t even really care because he thinks that he’d sacrifice all of his pride and dignity if it means you’d continue to smile like that in his direction.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. 
It was meant to be a little fun once he realized that you were just a civilian with no connection to the underground—a distraction, a way to gloat a bit to Kunikida because of course Dazai can pull a girl that fits almost every single one of the man’s ideals while Kunikida himself can hardly dream of it. He convinced himself that he was playing a long game by spending every waking second outside of work at your apartment, wooing you so that he could get a kick out of Kunikida’s inevitable explosion. He convinced himself that the fluttering in his chest whenever you laughed at him was just some strange heart palpitations that have arisen as a chronic consequence of one of his attempts, paying no mind to the fact that it only happens when he’s with you. He convinced himself that his face is warm whenever he’s around you because of the weather even when the temperature chills and the wind is bitter. 
But it’s hard to convince himself now—his lips tingle from where they’d just barely been brushing yours, there are goosebumps on his skin where your fingers had once been, and the image of your smile is branded behind his eyelids, the gentleness of it and the understanding. And he thinks it’s ridiculous honestly, because he doesn’t think that there’s anyone left in the world that could possibly understand him, but since that first day he met you, you’ve seemed to be able to see through him in a way that few people have ever been able to, going out of your way to try to make him feel more comfortable in a way that no one ever has.
When did he start to…
He can’t even finish the thought because acknowledging it means that it’s real and if it’s real, then Dazai is in trouble because Dazai is not a man who is capable of love anymore—or maybe he still is capable of love, or something close to it at least, what he feels for the members of the Agency proves that at least, but he’s not a man who’s capable of being loved. 
Not for who he is.
Even if you do fall for the facade he puts up—the smiling jester who laughs and jokes and never lets anyone close enough to realize that the only thing within him is a black hole that consumes anything and everything he touches—you’ll realize one day that the man you fell for is a fraud and you’d leave. Dazai has been left behind once, in a way that was so excruciating that it’d almost entirely killed off Dazai’s withered heart, and he’s decided that he’ll never be the one left behind again. He’ll run before people can leave him, and he’ll keep everyone else at arm’s length. He’s probably wrong anyway; he doesn’t care for you, not like that, the line between obsession and love has always been dangerously blurry for him. He-
“Atsushi’s taken to her pretty fast, don’t you think?” 
Dazai starts at the sudden sound of Yosano coming to stand next to him, a half-empty glass of wine in hand. There’s a lazy smile on her face as she watches where you, Atsushi and Kyouka are all chatting—well, you and Atsushi, mostly, but Kyouka seems enraptured in whatever conversation the two of you are having. 
“Yeah,” Dazai agrees, and his voice is a bit more rough than he meant for it to be. He pointedly takes another long swig of his drink. “That’s a first.”
“Isn’t it?” Yosano laughs loudly, drawing some attention to the pair. “A good sign, he’s got pretty good instincts.”
Yosano nudges his shoulder playfully but Dazai can hardly gather the energy to mask the sudden and unwelcome sorrow weighing on him. He manages, if only scarcely, but it’s unconvincing if the way Yosano’s brows furrowed has anything to say about it. 
He speaks before she can question it in an attempt to distract her from her concerns. “She’s quite the catch, I know. My sweet bella, if only she would join me in a double suicide, I don’t think I could even dream up a better way to go.”
Yosano only waves off his comment, and Dazai knows that she’s right—maybe it’s his tiger senses or maybe it’s just his intuition, but Atsushi usually has a good eye for good people. His lack of reservation around you, when he was even reserved around the Agency at first, is certainly a nice sign, even if it is partly because he’s had a few glasses of champagne. But Dazai also just can’t find it in him to be pleased over it because yeah, it confirms that you’re a good person but Dazai, no matter how hard he tries to be, is not one and he’s not sure if anything will ever change that.
The thickness in his throat returns, his eyes flutter shut momentarily as he tries to regain some semblance of control over himself.
When he opens his eyes again, his gaze instinctively is drawn back toward you and-
Oh, Dazai thinks, his breath catching and lips instinctively turning up as he watches you start to giggle and lean into Kyouka, who must have finally joined the conversation, while looking over at him. There’s a hazy look in your eyes, courtesy of the constant stream of champagne Dazai has been supplying you with all night, but you can’t seem to draw your eyes off of Dazai and Dazai can’t seem to draw his from you. 
Yosano nudges his shoulder again to try to get his attention but Dazai can’t look away from you so he hums as if to tell her that she has his attention—if only partly. 
“Enjoy it, Dazai,” Yosano says quietly and Dazai finally glances over to her, catching the oddly coherent look in what should’ve been drunken, glazed over eyes. “Don’t sabotage this for yourself. Enjoy it.” 
Dazai thinks maybe he was wrong about you being one of few to be able to see right through him. Maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is—or maybe it’s just his shared connection to Yosano through Mori that has her able to read him so easily. He avoids Yosano’s gaze as he looks back out into the crowds. Naturally, he finds himself seeking you out again, and you’re already looking at him. There’s a soft expression on your face as you admire him, not having realized he’d caught you staring yet, and you look as if you’re barely listening to what Atsushi is saying, and Dazai’s heart seizes because no one has ever looked at him that way before.
Well, he decides, maybe Yosano is right. He might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Once you realize that the front he shows you is just a mask to hide the rotting carcass that lies beneath, you’ll turn tail and run, and then everything can go back to normal again. He just can’t let himself get more attached than he already is—that way it won’t hurt when you leave.
Dazai catches his lips turning up as he watches you start giggling at something Atsushi and Kyouka say, Dazai’s heart does that damning flutter again, and immediately, he averts his gaze.
Still, he thinks, he’s far too sober for this. 
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Later in the night, when people have begun to say their goodbyes and you start to make your way to the restrooms to freshen up before heading out, Dazai corners you against the wall of the hall leading out of the event venue. You don’t even hear him following you or notice his presence until you feel his fingers snatch your wrist as he yanks you back toward him. 
Your eyes widen but you’re able to bite back the yelp that nearly escapes your lips when you recognize his dark eyes looking down at you, mischievous and glittering beneath the soft lights. 
“Do I get my kiss now?” Dazai breathes out. The wall behind you is cool against your back, and you can hear the chatter from the event down the hall as the event begins to come to an end. You part your lips to respond to him, with what? You aren’t entirely sure, but it doesn’t seem to matter because no words leave your lips regardless. “The party’s over, no need to worry about messing up that pretty makeup now, bella.”
“Only one,” you finally say, voice a bit more throaty than you would have liked but it’s hard to concentrate with Dazai’s fingers grazing your hips and his body brushing yours. You wonder if the man has ever learned about the concept of personal space—you severely doubt it. “Make it good, and maybe you can have a second.”
The smile on Dazai’s lips is nothing short of sinful as he brings one hand up to cup the side of your neck, thumb running along your jawline and fingers entangling with your hair. He doesn’t waste a second as he dips his head down to press his lips against yours, they’re warm and soft, and taste distinctly like the champagne that had been served earlier in the night. You let out a quiet noise of surprise against his lips, eyes fluttering shut. 
The kiss is tamer than you expected it to be—he makes no move to deepen it, lips moving slowly and gently against yours as if he’s hesitant to take it any further, but Dazai Osamu has never been hesitant about anything in all of the times you've encountered him. Your hands rest on his forearms as he keeps you pressed up against the wall, unconcerned with the fact that all of his coworkers and many government officials are naught but half a hallway away. 
You think to yourself, a bit embarrassed, that you might be able to spend an eternity kissing Dazai Osamu and never grow tired of it, and you wonder why it's taken you so long just to give in to his request from nearly a month ago.
You aren’t sure if ten seconds, ten minutes or ten hours have passed by the time he finally separates his lips from yours. He doesn’t move far away at all—his nose still nudging yours, his soft lips still brushing your own, he leaves no space at all between the two of you as he asks: “Good enough for a second?”
Your lips curve up into a smile, eyes meeting his dark ones as you look up at him through your lashes. Though, you have half a mind to agree, your previous thoughts still ringing through your head, you can't help the teasing words that spilled from your lips: “I’m not sure. I guess I’ll sleep on it and let you know my answer the next time we see each other.”
The laugh that Dazai lets out is breathless. 
“Deal.”
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ellecdc · 2 months
Note
Hiii, so i got really excited about all the new ships and i wondering if i could request a poly!prongsfoot x female reader where maybe the reader completely matches their energy and its like a college au and the boys bring reader to meet all their friends for the first time and everybody is like… woah… now theres 3 of them. Just some super energetic cutesy fluff if you dont mind, thank you for considering this i really appreciate it!!! Hope your doing amazing🫶🏻
omg so I saw a post the other day and there's another ship name for Sirius x James = starbucks!! How cute? Thanks for your request and your patience - it took me some time to flush this out (I think any new ships likely will take me longer!)
poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader who's just like them
Remus doesn’t think he’s ever seen his two best friends as excited as they currently were, sitting and waiting (rather impatiently) for your arrival. 
Peter, Mary, and Lily were sitting on the booth against the wall, with Remus and Regulus sat together to the right of them, with Sirius and James to their right.
Sirius and James had been talking about this ‘perfect girl’ they met in their psych 101 class last semester, likely since the very day they met you if Remus assumed correctly. 
“She’s so pretty, Moons! I’ve never seen eyes as beautiful as hers.”
“She’s so funny! You should have heard her snarking the frat boys behind us in yesterday’s lecture.”
“She’s brilliant! She helped us study and I got 88% on our last exam!”
And now, a whole semester and a half later, they’d finally convinced you to meet their friends.
Lord knows how two of the most hyperactive and mischievous people Remus has ever had the pleasure of knowing managed to trick another person to put up with them voluntarily, but he did really like seeing them so happy and excited in life; both so deserving for different reasons. 
James deserved all the love that he so openly and willingly shared with others, and Sirius had worked so hard to become the man he is and deserved to be celebrated for it.
So, if what made them happy was a cute girl from their intro to psychology course? Well, Remus couldn’t argue with them. 
“I can’t wait until she gets here; you’re all going to love her.” James declared, shifting closer to Sirius in his excitement who quickly threw his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders. 
“So, don’t embarrass us, alright? We want to keep her around.” Sirius added, placing a chaste kiss to James' shoulder as James practically vibrated in his seat.
“I assure you, Sirius, you do not need our help embarrassing you.” Regulus drawled, not bothering to look up from the drink’s menu in his hand.
“Oi! You take that back!” Sirius barked as he flicked the menu up into Regulus’ face. 
Remus had to quickly grip his boyfriend’s shoulder to hold him in his seat as he looked like he was about to crawl over the table to strangle his brother.
“Easy, babe.” Remus commented teasingly, “I doubt Pete, Lily, or Mary will bother calling 999 if you kill him, but their new girl may not be as understanding.”
Sirius harrumphed earning him a conciliatory kiss from James as Pete and the girls just snickered. 
Regulus’ muttering was interrupted by a commotion at the door as a group sitting near the entrance cheered at a new arrival.
“Yay! Are you finally joining us for a pub night, Y/N?!” someone shouted, causing both James and Sirius’ head to snap to attention; Remus was sure if they were dogs, their tails would be wagging and their ears would have perked up. 
“God no! I wouldn’t dream of it!” You called back teasingly, pulling away from someone who had stood to give you a hug. 
“Foul!” The person called back as their friend group laughed.
“Next time!” You promised as you moved through the crowd, face lighting up somehow even brighter when you spotted James and Sirius.
James was up on his feet the second you made eye contact with him and he all but carried you over to the group.
“Hi angel! I’m so glad you could make it!” He cheered at you as he kissed your cheek. 
“Of course, Jamie. I was looking forward to it.” You responded as you beamed at Sirius who stood as well to give you a proper hug.
“Hiya, dollface! How was your day?” Sirius asked as he held you to his chest.
“Good! Good, I’m looking forward to a drink, though.” You laughed, shucking your jacket off which James was quick to take from you to hang it on the hook attached to the booth. 
“Everyone; this is Y/N! Y/N, that there is our best mate Remus, that’s his boyfriend and less importantly my brother Regulus,” Sirius introduced, causing Regulus to scowl and Remus to chuckle as he consolingly squeezed Regulus’ knee. “And that there is our other best mate Peter, and these beauties here are Lily and Mary.”
You enthusiastically exchanged handshakes with those you could reach and no less enthusiastic waves with those who you couldn’t.
“It’s so nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Which is concerning, considering you guys met in class?” Regulus commented, earning him a booming laugh from you.
“I was doing too well in that class anyways; it’s good to keep your GPA well rounded.” You responded in jest, gently nudging a furiously blushing James with your elbow as Sirius beamed at the two of you from your other side. 
As the group of you spoke, Remus noticed a number of people coming up to clap James or Sirius on the shoulders who knew them from their classes or various extracurriculars., though that wasn’t all that unusual when attending a pub night near campus. What Remus found to be quite phenomenal was how many people happened to come up to you to do the same.
Remus supposed it made sense for his two social and quite popular friends to find a kindred spirit, but he couldn’t believe that there were three of you who appeared to be so universally liked.
Well, Remus was sure some of Sirius’ notoriety was less from his likeability and more for his flirty nature. 
Mary had a lot of fun talking to you about her Instagram feed and your TikTok, which was full of videos of you, Sirius, and James doing trendy dances to various degrees of success. 
You were eager to discuss your latest reads with Remus, Regulus, and Lily, and you all laughed at the furious blush that took over Regulus’ face when the three of you started discussing the erotic books you’d enjoyed recently. 
“I mean, really; is that appropriate to be discussing in such a public setting?” Regulus had muttered as he looked over his shoulder to ensure other patrons hadn’t heard the scandalous books the three of you had read.
“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Reggie. I’ve seen the love bites you’ve left on my mate; you’re no saint.” Sirius had drawled, causing the blush to migrate all the way down Regulus’ neck.
You even joined in with some of Peter's quick-witted jests at the boys' expense.
In the end, it was the way you fell easily into the friendly banter with the group as if you’d been part of it all along that really won Remus over, had his friends’ lovesick smiles not already thoroughly convinced him of your worth. 
“I really like Y/N.” He commented to Regulus as he finished flossing his teeth that night. Regulus scoffed without lifting his head from the book he’d been reading already comfortable in bed.
“You would.”
Remus furrowed his brow as he turned the bathroom light off and climbed into bed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“She’s exactly your type.”
Remus barked a laugh and pulled Regulus (quite rudely, if you’d asked Regulus) into his side, forcing him to lay the book flat on the bed lest he lose his place for good.
“I’d argue that’s not the case, seeing as you’re my type.” He murmured into his boyfriend’s neck.
Regulus rolled his eyes though his face betrayed the fondness he felt for Remus. “That’s not what I meant, tosser.”
“What’d you mean then?” He asked, trailing kisses along Regulus’ collarbone.
“I mean she’s bubbly, she’s bold and outgoing, she’s mischievous, and she seemed to put up with the lot of you quite well.”
Remus lifted his head to look at Regulus bemusedly.
“She’s a carbon copy of two of your best friends, she’s basically Sirius and James.” Regulus clarified, looking smug as Remus’ face fell in understand.
“Oh my God...” Remus whispered in horror. “There’s three of them.” 
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jgracie · 2 months
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REMEMBER THAT NIGHT? — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF NYX
masterlist | rules
❝ I was wondering maybe u can write headcanons for percy with nyx daughter!reader where they're literally the same person personality wise and same sense of humor and sarcasm and same interests etc.. ❞ — 🪼
in which percy dates a daughter of nyx
pairing percy jackson x nyx!reader
warnings none!
on the radio . . . remember that night? (sara kays)
Your first proper introduction comes during Capture the Flag. Annabeth, one of the few children of the Olympians you spoke to, had asked you to play on her team
You usually didn’t play, seeing it as a game for the children of the Gods, not a demi-primordial such as yourself. However, after lots of begging (and agreeing to buy you the good chocolate from the outside world), Annabeth convinced you to join in
On the day, she quickly explained the rules to you then pulled you to the side, distress etched on her face as her head whipped around, clearly looking for someone
“Percy, you’re late! You almost ruined my plan,” she said, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to where you were standing. The boy started rambling something about two hippocampi needing his help with their housing situation, giving the two of you a sheepish look until Annabeth interrupted him
“This is Y/N, daughter of Nyx. You’ll be working with her today,” Annabeth said, “the two of you will be stationed at our flag, which I put near the lake. Y/N, I’m gonna need you to use your powers to blind anyone who comes near our flag so that Percy can use the element of surprise to his advantage and spray them with water. Got it?” Before you could say anything, Annabeth ran off to be with her siblings, leaving you with the flag and Percy Jackson
It was really awkward at first. Percy walked circles around the flag while you played around with your shadow, making it turn into all sorts of shapes
You weren’t keeping track of how long the game had been going on for, but you were bored. You didn’t agree to play Capture the Flag just to stand around the flag with some random guy (even if he was really handsome)
Eventually, you were no longer interested in your shadow and decided to strike up a conversation with Percy, asking him about the hippocampi he mentioned earlier
“Well,” Percy began, cheeks turning pink as he realised how silly his story was, “these two hippocampi broke up, but neither of them wanna move out of the cove they’re living in, so I’ve been trying to find a cove just as nice that’ll hopefully convince one of them to move,” he finished, hoping you wouldn’t think he was weird
To his surprise, you started laughing, “so you’re their divorce attorney?” You managed to ask through fits of giggles, “that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” 
Percy was relieved. He was so worried he’d embarrassed himself in front of a really beautiful girl, but you were actually amused! 
People started showing up for the flag, but the two of you defended it like your life depended on it. You worked your magic, causing the area around the people from the opposite team to turn as black as the night, while Percy sent them away with a wave of water
Soon enough, you heard cheers erupt as Annabeth and everyone else from your team came running towards you with the other team’s flag. After celebrations took place, people started heading back to their cabins and various other activities, leaving you and Percy alone
You began to walk away, missing the comforting darkness of your cabin, when suddenly someone stopped you in your tracks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder
“Hey, Y/N, I had a lot of fun playing Capture the Flag with you today,” Percy said, “you’re really cool and stuff… and I was wondering if, you know…”
“If we could hang out? Sure, Percy! I had a lot of fun with you too. Come to my cabin tomorrow!” You said, giving him a smile before leaving
Percy sighed. He meant to ask you out on a date.
He still showed up at your cabin. You didn’t specify a time, so he hoped first thing after breakfast was alright
(It was. He could’ve shown up at 3am and you would’ve been fine with it)
You started to get to know each other, realising with every passing minute how incredibly similar you were
Both of you spoke sarcasm like it was a second language, you both enjoyed rock music, skating, basketball, and of course, sea animals. Whatever Percy liked, there was a high chance you liked too, and vice versa (I had to look up Percy’s interests on reddit)
He began showing up at your cabin more often, and then you started showing up at his, and soon enough you became known as one package
You still weren’t dating though. You were both worried the other only saw you as a friend
One day, a half-asleep Percy was making his way to the dining pavilion (is that what it's called?) when he overheard your siblings talking
“She’s so in love with him!” One of them said to the other, giggling. Percy didn’t like to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. This could be about you, after all
The other nodded enthusiastically, “I think Percy’s in love with her too, they’re both just oblivious about it.” Okay, so it was definitely about you. You’re the only person Percy could ever be in love with
Grinning, he began to plan his confession
In the middle of the night, you heard knocking on the front door of your cabin. Exhausted, you dragged yourself away from the comfort of your bed to go and answer.
You were ready to berate whoever your visitor was, until you discovered it was none other than Percy. With a finger in front of his lips, he took your hand and walked you all to the beach
There, Percy finally deemed it safe for you to talk. He watched as you took in what was in front of you: a midnight picnic consisting of a blue tablecloth and a wide range of blue foods
“Perce, what is this?” You asked, unable to hold back the smile that was making its way onto your lips. This might’ve been the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you
“I wanted to stargaze today, and thought I should bring the expert with me,” he replied as you sat down, opening a bottle of blue coke and handing it to you
You looked up at the sky and marvelled at how clear it was that night, “I love the stars, they’re so pretty. They remind me of home,” you told him, mesmerised by the way they glimmered in your mother’s domain
“They are,” he said wistfully. Turning to him, you found that he had never been looking at the stars to begin with, but at you
According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves
Slowly, you and Percy inched closer and closer together. When you finally kissed, you felt reunited with your other half.
Now that my essay of a backstory is done, we can move onto the dating
You have midnight feasts all the time. Most of the time, you do them at his cabin, since he’s the only one there and you’re less likely to be caught by the harpies, but sometimes you do them at that spot at the beach (it’s been dubbed ‘Percy and Y/N’s spot’ by everyone at camp because Percy’s weirdly territorial over it)
Percy loves spending time at your cabin too. Specifically spending time with your siblings. Being the children of night, you can easily camouflage yourselves within the night and shadows, which means you can eavesdrop on whoever you want
Therefore, your siblings know EVERYTHING and Percy loves hearing about it all
He used to be scared of the dark, as it meant losing an important sense, but you showed him all the beautiful parts of it. Now, the dark feels like a warm blanket reminding him of home (you) <3 
He still has nightmares though, and waking up to a pitch black room after a nightmare isn’t the best feeling, so one day, you help him out
You woke with a start as you felt Percy shift next to you, clearly trying to process the nightmare he just had. Pouting, you felt your heart ache at his pain. He deserved a good night’s rest
You put your hands together and began to make a ball of light, illuminating the room. Now, you could see the unshed tears in Percy's eyes
“What is this?” He asked, reaching his hand out to touch it. You let go, giving it to him
“Your own star, for when I’m not here. It’s like a night-light. You turn it off by tapping it.” Percy let go of the star, opting to hold you instead
Kissing the top of your head, he mumbled “thank you, sweetheart, you’re the best.”
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