#when you meet a work deadline and use the extra time to catch up on asks lol

[writing-in-glitter-pen]

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND SAW THAT UR REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

Could i request childe x fem!reader comfort fic? Reader is feeling overworked and burnt out and when she sees her boyfriend when he came over, all her built up emotions come crashing out. You can decide how he comforts her! :3

Awww thank you love!!!

I didn't know how much I needed this fic until you requested it ♡ thank you darling now we can all give our stresses to Childe. Lord knows he'll handle them for us.

Childe x fem!reader II comfort, fluff

content warnings: self deprecating thoughts

The pressure of the room bore down on you like an elephant sitting on your chest. You’d made so many promises, commitments, stacked mounds of responsibilities on yourself…to the point where it felt like every square inch of your brain was occupied with no space left for you to rest. 

Your thoughts were buzzing with alarm bells ringing with upcoming deadlines or the imaginary voices of people you had to apologize to and ask for extensions from—and you couldn’t even jump on the work you had to postpone now because you were paralyzed with exhaustion. Your mind kept screaming for you to go go go! but your body just couldn’t keep up. 

So here you found yourself on your couch, staring up at the ceiling while shaking with anxiety, your brain pulsating with a mix of fatigue and self-loathing. 

Why couldn’t you get it right?

Why couldn’t you get anything right?

You were so lost in your despair, you didn’t catch the large, slender hand waving a few times in front of your face, nor did you hear the warm timbre of your boyfriend’s voice calling your name. 

What finally shook you from your stupor was the feeling of rough lips gingerly meeting your forehead.

Your eyes finally focused on Childe’s crooked grin, his blue eyes brightened with amusement. He must’ve let himself into your apartment. 

Childe was so good at everything he did. 

He held down one of the hardest jobs you could imagine having; a Fatui harbinger with hundreds of subordinates awaiting his commands, mounds of paperwork and physical labor paired with the emotional labor of working in the brutal environment…and he was fine. He kept going. He never asked for a break or took time off; he’d just cram the things he wanted to do into his already tight schedule and delegate what spilled over. Sure, he’d come home tired, he’d need extra loving from you to recharge after a particularly grueling mission…but he would be back up and at ‘em the next day, running into the next battle right after the last…

Which made you feel so morbidly inadequate. 

Even now, he’s just come home from a twelve hour work day without an ounce of wear on his face—a bundle of joy and energy. He probably planned a date for you too, or grabbed something for dinner on the way home, or picked up some extra paperwork during the work day so he could sleep in with you tomorrow—he just achieved so much.

His life is so much harder than yours and he’s not half the mess that you are. In fact, he isn’t a mess at all. 

It made you want to cry. 

Oh, no, you were crying. 

Your boyfriend’s face paled in horror as he watched you sniffle and burst into a fountain of tears upon the mere sight of him. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart! What’s the matter?”, a nervous chuckle fell from his throat as he combed his fingers through your hair comfortingly—twisting one of the soft locks around his pointer finger subconsciously, a little habit he picked up long ago when he’d finally earned the pleasure of cuddling you and touching the parts of you he so admired. 

“I’m nothing like you.”, was all you could sputter out as sobs wracked your tired body. 

He tilted his head in confusion, “...that’s…right?”, he didn’t understand what made the distinction so blasphemous. 

“I just–”, you fumbled for your words as your brain short-circuited its vocabulary, “I suck so much.”

“WHAT?”

You’ve thrown your poor boyfriend through a loop. You’re the most incredible person he’s ever met! He’s charted the course for the rest of his life on the sole mission of making you happy, of giving you everything you’ve ever wanted, because he’d fallen so deeply in love with every inch of you. You were perfect. How could you think any differently when he spends every waking moment of his life telling you that? 

He doesn’t need to hear anything else. From the sight of you alone—your sunken eyes lined with dark circles, your eyebrows scrunched together in painful stress, your cheeks devoid of color, he could tell your body was quitting on you and your mind was suffering for it. 

“Aaah, sweetheart, don’t tell me you’ve been biting off more than you can chew again…or rather, not biting anything at all—when was the last time you’ve eaten?”

His question did not require an answer—he was aware of your habit of neglecting your physical needs over your metaphysical demands. Without another word, he snatched the fuzzy blanket draped on the end of the couch and collected his adorable little bundle of tears up into his arms before carting her off to the kitchen. 

You squirmed in his grasp, trying to push your way back onto your feet, but he wasn’t having it—taking both of your wrists in one of his large hands while holding you in one arm, tugging you over to his lips for a quick kiss as he never broke his stride. Childe’s strength was initially a big draw of yours to him; you drooled over him when he’d carry heavy things for you, swoon watching him train…but now that you’re his other half, his physical prowess gets to be a real pain in the ass when he decides to manhandle you. 

He carries you all the way to the kitchen counter where he plops you down on the edge and wraps you up the cozy blanket—an opponent easily and tactfully subdued. 

When you try to get up, whining that you have work you should be doing, he only slips his arms around you in a tight, loving vice; keeping you prisoner in his blanket cocoon. 

“Ah ah ah! Not so fast. You may be ignoring her cries, but I hear her loud and clear—your body needs rest.” 

“Childe, I’m serious! I’m already behind—”

“And you’ll fall even further behind if you keep pushing yourself past your limit. Tonight, you’re done thinking about any tasks you have lined up. The world’s not going to end if you save your work for tomorrow.”

He was accepting no further argument as he sighed into the big warm embrace, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck and humming contentedly. As he squeezed, you felt all of the stress drain out of you, letting go of your worries for the time being. No matter what flurry your mind might be spinning in, it’s like your body was programmed to go limp in Childe’s arms—he overwhelmed you with a feeling of safety. Nothing could go wrong when you were in your boyfriend’s hold, he guaranteed that. 

He pressed kisses to your tear-soaked cheeks, cooing reassurances to you between each one. 

“Your worth is not equal to the amount of work you accomplish.”

“In my eyes, you’ll never fall short of anything but perfect.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

For the first time in what felt like days, you were able to take a deep breath and feel the tension in your shoulders release. The stress fell off of you like a cloud of smoke, leaving you sleepy and spent while huddled in Childe’s embrace. He couldn't help himself from stealing a few long, indulgent kisses from your pouty lips---he was a man, after all, and your sweet, sleepy face made him want to devour you.

He chuckled as he felt your body stop fighting and yield to rest—a little win for him against his most beloved, adorable opponent. He pressed one last kiss to your temple letting go of you and strutting over to the bag of groceries by the fridge.

“I grabbed some stuff for dinner on my way here, I'll whip something good up for you.”

“I knew it.”, you thought, that same pang of incapability stringing your heart before you took another deep breath and let it go.

Yes, Childe has the capacity to go above and beyond in ways you can’t right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ll always fall short. You two are completely different people, you have strengths he doesn’t just as he has strengths you don’t. As you watch him roll up his sleeves and get to work chopping vegetables---your eyes roaming over the deep scars of battle that mar his skin, you recall how Childe struggles to open up about his emotions, while you can coax him into talking about his feelings and giving him the support he typically denies himself. You have a capacity for compassion many fail to mirror, bringing brightness to the lives of those around you—even strangers. And you have a cordial charm that draws others in, a big reason you’ve been saddled with the pile of work you’re suffocating under—people find you reliable and trustworthy. 

That’s why you and Childe work so well together; one of you can pick up what the other drops. You hold each other up so you can both move forward. 

So you know you can trust him when he tells you you’re perfect, because you think he’s perfect too ♡

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #childe x reader #childe x you #genshin childe #genshin ajax #genshin fluff #childe fluff #genshin impact tartaglia #tartaglia #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia x you #genshin impact x reader #childe imagines #genshin imagines

[prettygirl-gabi]

Coffee, Confessions, and Office Chaos

---

---

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: Fluff, slight angst

Category:F/M

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT) (boyband)

Relationships: !office worker S.coups x !office worker f reader

Summary: it's not for some work place, but who knows?

Trope: office romance..

---

Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the first installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

---

I had never been a morning person. Not until the day Seungcheol, or as everyone in the office affectionately called him - S.Coups, started bringing me coffee. At first, I thought it was a coincidence; he had simply grabbed an extra cup for a colleague. But then it became a routine. Every morning, like clockwork, a perfectly brewed cup of coffee would land on the corner of my desk with a smile brighter than the morning sun.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he’d say, placing the cup carefully next to my keyboard.

“Morning, Seungcheol,” I would reply, trying to hide the smile that tugged at my lips.

We worked in a bustling marketing firm, and while the job was fulfilling, it could be incredibly stressful. Seungcheol and I often found ourselves working late into the night, surrounded by stacks of paperwork and endless lists of deadlines.

One evening, as the clock ticked past 8 PM, I looked up from my screen and found him leaning against the door frame of my office, two take-out bags in hand

“Dinner break?” he suggested, tilting his head slightly, causing a few strands of his dark hair to fall into his eyes.

I laughed, pushing my chair back. "Only if you have extra soy sauce packets."

He grinned, his dimples making an appearance. “Always.”

We ate in silence at first, the only sounds coming from the bustling city outside. But soon, conversation flowed as easily as it always did between us. We talked about everything—from office gossip to our dreams and fears.

“You know, Y/N, you’re pretty amazing,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard.

I snorted, shaking my head. “You’ve seen my handwriting; I’m far from amazing.”

“I mean it,” he continued, his voice sincere. “You’re hardworking, kind, and you never give up. It’s… inspiring.”

A blush crept up my cheeks, and I focused intently on my noodles to avoid his gaze. There was something about his words, about the way he looked at me, that made my heart race in a way I wasn’t sure I could handle.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself looking forward to our quiet moments together. The morning coffees, the late-night dinners, the shared glances across the office—it all felt like a beautiful secret between us.

One particularly exhausting Friday, the weight of the week caught up with me. I was the last one in the office, trying to meet an absurd deadline. Tears of frustration began to pool in my eyes as I stared at the screen, feeling utterly defeated.

“Y/N?”

Startled, I glanced up to see Seungcheol standing at my door, concern etched across his features.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“Just… everything,” I mumbled, wiping away a stray tear. “I can’t seem to get this right.”

He walked over, pulling a chair next to mine. “Show me.”

Together, we worked through the problem, and with his help, everything seemed to fall into place. By the time we finished, the clock read midnight.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice heavy with gratitude.

“It’s what friends are for,” he replied, but there was something different in his tone when he said the word ‘friends’.

My heart pounded as I mustered up the courage to ask the question that had been gnawing at me for weeks. “Seungcheol… is that all we are? Friends?”

He paused, looking at me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. “I hope not,” he admitted softly. “Because I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. Completely.”

Tears filled my eyes again, but this time, they were tears of overwhelming joy. “I’ve fallen for you too, Seungcheol.”

His smile was pure sunshine as he reached out, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Well then,” he said, his voice gentle, “how about we start this weekend with a date?”

I nodded, my heart soaring. “I’d love that.”

And just like that, our beautiful secret was unveiled, marking the beginning of a new chapter in our story—one filled with love, joy, and of course, plenty of morning coffees.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-Prettygirl-gabi🎀

#kpop #seventeen #svt imagines #mini series #seungkwan #svt scoups #svt #seventeen jihoon #seventeen mingyu #seventeen vernon #seventeen jun #seventeen joshua #seventeen seungkwan #seventeen dino #seventeen dk #seventeen jeon wonwoo #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen hoshi #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen minghao #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt x y/n #svt trope series #gabi writes #support the writers!

[cloveroctobers]

EM HAYWOOD — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: writing this quickly with a cold and before that vertigo has me spread out like Anderson Paak in that one music video lmao. This was meant to be out last month during pride but there is no limit to that sugar in your tank if you catch my drift! 😜 Also we’re always spreading love to THEE mother Keke so I thought why not? Hope ya’ll are still out there reading and it might be time for me to give NOPE another watch this summer! This is a mixture of fluff & humor mostly since the last one I wrote ages ago! really wasn’t that. Although I love a little spookiness too, otherwise I wouldn’t be called “Octobers” for nothing! You’ll find that out towards the end ❤️‍🔥

PROMPTS are from here & I’m using: “i know it’s hot but we have to go grocery shopping, get up...” + “roll the windows up, I’m about to put the AC on.”

ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.*

The sleep was hitting okay!

Especially when it took forever to get comfortable in this new home and you were managing the electric bill. Emerald was used to the heat SoCal would bring growing up in Agua Dulce but moving out to Lancaster? That dirt was bringing up a different type of heat—despite being only twenty something minutes away! But she didn’t mind spending the extra money so that the both of you could be comfortable.

With the way inflation is set up and companies are increasing everything every month just because they felt like that was the answer to their problems was a problem. You weren’t having it and settled on opening windows and fans majority of the time while Emerald let it slide…except for today.

You’re sleeping on your stomach, cheek pressed into a pillow made for hotels, covers a tangled web over your now room temp body as you rest peacefully. Which was a contrast to what started at the beginning of the hot uncomfortable night, you were home alone dressed in nothing but a oversized white t-shirt and Em was hanging out at the ranch with OJ and Angel. The invitation was always open for you to join but you needed to get some last minute things done for work, so you stayed behind to meet that deadline.

It was funny how that worked out, you being a digital journalist who fell in love with a charming woman, who went through a unexplainable experience that is still talked about to this point in time. If you thought Emerald Haywood was a talker, then that made you a believer and combined? That made the both of you a invested duo.

You thought you had it all figured out, since the trio received a nice “settlement” if that’s what you want to call it—once the higher ups were involved but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to put in the effort towards this home. Em’s name maybe on the deed and she wanted you to live with her but you’re the piece that made this feel like home.

Emerald’s dreams were always big and bright, she had no issue being a hustler but with you by her side you had to level her out just a bit and so she wouldn’t get too crazy when it came to home shopping. Sure house shopping was actually kind of fun; you personally didn’t think too much about it before, since you were still scrapping for money once living underneath your elementary school teacher mother’s home. It was just the two of you since your brother moved off to Texas with his girlfriend; that your mother didn’t particularly like but respected that her eldest wanted to start a new chapter elsewhere.

She just didn’t expect her daughter to go off and do the same thing a year later. Your mother tended to be harder on you than she was on your older brother but you stemmed that as your mother being dependent on you. Relax! Y’all were finally in therapy working that out and it definitely wasn’t with the help of Em’s ex, that would be a huge red flag.

So yeah there was some things going on along with some heat? You were going to do everything in your power to ease that electricity bill. Even if a nagging throbbing headache started to occur? Ice packs were in your reach for your dear forehead and back of your neck. If the walls were getting sticky? Put the fans on blast and rotate and open up those large windows to allow some fresh air in. You had it figured out and definitely was known as the DIY queen.

Emerald was staring down at you adoringly, kiss going right to the side of your neck before she lightly shook your shoulder, “wakey wakey, baby.”

You huffed, keeping your eyes closed, normally Emerald was the heavy sleeper but for some reason she wanted to be up and at ‘em, “huh?”

“We got things to do.”

“…like?” You croaked, knowing you needed some water soon.

“Plenty. First we need to get more gas and fill up the portable tanks, then we need to pick up Bam Cooke and Cathaway.” Emerald started counting your to-do list as she began pacing beside your side of the bed.

You honestly forgot your mom had your dog and cat (they were named after some soulful legendary singers, name creds completely go to emerald for this one!) for the weekend.

Peeking over at your nightstand you squinted trying to see the time and settled on snatching your phone instead.

8:56am.

Unlocking your phone you checked the weather and sighed, “there’s also a heat advisory today and tomorrow.”

“Girl what else is new? We also need to eat. I know it’s hot but we have to go grocery shopping, get up.” Emerald stated with her hands digging into hips, after she just yanked the curtains open to reveal the sunlight.

Slapping a slighty damp arm over your eyes after resting your phone back on the night stand, you exhaled, “can’t we just do a delivery service?”

“Yeah, we can. But you’ve been cooped up in this house for who knows how long. Like when’s the last time you’ve been to the office or been interacting with people?”

You’ve interacted with plenty people! That’s the perks of working remotely, you chatted only when necessary—although that also started to feel like a ghost town? Ghost server? it was still enough socializing for you with a employer that was basically a chatty Kathy that loved video calls and phone calls that could go on for hours every other day.

“Interacting with you and my mom is more than enough,” you mumbled, “plus we still have to get this house together, things are still in boxes, and we’re still waiting on backordered items.”

Emerald scoffed with a fan of her hand, “we’ll worry about that in due time! There’s no timeline to when this place has to be together, it’s about what we make of it.”

Which didn’t stop her from having a house warming with her group of close friends and your best friend. You wouldn’t have minded if it was just family but having friends over when the decor wasn’t even in the state was a little annoying. However emerald was open to sharing with everybody, her success was basically everyone’s success, although you tried to hint that one of her friends out of the group seemed to be moving a little funny after Emerald came into that money.

True tea.

You repeated after a yawn, “Grocery shopping?”

Emerald nodded as she approached the bed in her bra, brief’s, and rodded hair. She then climbed up onto the bed, standing over you as she lightly sang, “oooowoaaahyeaaah!”

Snorting you teased with some snaps, “Okay, Hannah.”

Winking, Em spun off the bed as you pushed up onto your elbows, “you need help taking your rollers out?”

“I got it, baby, thank you.” Emerald called out as she entered the bathroom, “you can help me pick it out though…never mind yo ass is heavy handed.”

“Compared to who?”

“Me myself and I.”

You rolled your eyes as you tossed the covers back, reaching for your tumbler so you can down some water, before joining your girlfriend in the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Now…drives to the grocery store was just as if you were in the south. This you knew since you were originally from North Carolina but finished your senior year and attended college in California. Emerald was always in the driver’s seat out of your relationship but it was amplified with the new car y’all were leasing. You offered to get out and pump the gas along with refilling the extra jugs, leaving Emerald to sit sideways, checking social media while her elbows dug into her knees with the door wide open, legs begging for some air since…you guessed it! wouldn’t drive with the AC on either.

Gas stations were never far from the house living in Lancaster but going to the grocery store? That required at least a thirty-five minute drive on the highway and there was a accident, which was taking this little outing much more time than usual.

Emerald was getting impatient while you sat with your legs up on the dash of your Honda sport, hands throw up and locked behind the headrest while you gently nodded your head along to the Afrobeat mix.

The side eye game was strong as Emerald peeked over at you, completely at ease in this weather. Yeah she should be used to this weather and normally she is but with a heat wave with barely a breeze brought on some agitation for real.

Sitting bumper to bumper, tumblers of water in the cup holders, heat rays roasting the brown on Emerald’s hands and arms, and the drip of sweat sliding down the back of her neck towards her back was enough for Emerald’s Patience to wear very thin. With one hand on wheel and the other shooting out to mess with the knobs and buttons on the dash, caught your attention.

“roll the windows up, I’m about to put the AC on.” Emerald started before sitting up straight and glanced over her shoulder, “I’m also about to float this motherfucker.”

Your eyes went wide after cautiously rolling your window up and latching onto the door before Emerald whipped the car out of the slow lane, now flying down the emergency lane towards the next exit, quickly influencing some cars to follow right behind.

You breathed, “Excuse me, Samuel L. Jackson.”

“You ain’t know? That’s my uncle.” Emerald curled her lips into a smile, proud of herself before increasing the volume of the music by the steering wheel.

Shaking your head, you lowered your feet onto the floor, stretching before sitting up on the passenger side. You were already comfy before but now you had to reach into the backseat to reach for your crochet blanket you made last winter to toss over your bare thighs.

“Sorry but we’ve been inside the house with no AC during ninety degree weather and there ain’t no type of breeze outside! If we’re gonna be outside, we need to survive.” Emerald claimed as she paused at the stop sign before turning right.

You shrugged, “We got a full tank now so it’s whatever.”

Emerald hummed at this before holding her hand out to rest on top of your blanket, “Guess that means now we can be cute and hold hands without being sweaty.”

“Uh uh, both hands on the wheel Ms. Float this muthafucka.”

A laugh bubbled out of Emerald’s lips at this, “Fine, if that’s how you wanna do me.”

“Safety first,” you raised one finger in the air before pushing your glasses up the bridge of your oily nose.

“You right, can’t have nothing interfering with my baby and I.”

“That’s riiiight.”

“Oooh, alto.”

You laughed.

Eventually the both of you made it to the grocery store after eleven, the parking lot wasn’t packed but had a nice little crowd filling the area.

“Good, now we can use the corporations’ air instead, knowing they’re about to sell us some overpriced eggs.” Emerald told you as you walked the aisle, making a elderly woman glance at you two.

You laughed, watching as the woman slowly smiled at your conversation before carrying on. Emerald was pushing the carriage and you were rotating between hanging onto the crook of her arm and holding onto the side of the carriage.

“That’s my girl.” You praised as Emerald pointed at you.

Stopping at the vegetables section, you bounced up on your toes as you noticed the organic section up ahead, “Ooh, I see that tangerine juice we like. Let me grab that before there’s none left.”

“Yes please do! I’m gonna get into these bell peppers and zucchini.”

“Alright,” you tapped the carriage before departing.

Folding your arms and humming to the soft 80s jams the store played, you took your time heading over to the organic section, briefly glancing at the other sections before getting to the main one that sparked your interest. Standing in front of the mid-sized section, you scanned the various of drinks and decided on three main ones.

First you picked up the tangerine juice, tucking it underneath your arm, some kombucha that people were raving about on tiktok, and finally when you reached for the small bottle of pomegranate juice, you paused as another hand was reaching for the same thing.

“Oh,” the voice says, making you turn to them.

Hey listen, normally you weren’t the type to say much on anyone’s appearance but the woman with the sun hat and wicked smile made you feel some type of way. Her green eyes were large, almost too large that they looked too big for her tight pinched face. Her ears were also pointed and stuck out from her long frizzy jet black hair, lots of teeth, thin barely there brows, and pale skin the color of powder.

“Looks like there’s only one left of the little ones.” The woman spoke, taking note that your eyes went to the four large bottles to the right of the smaller bottle.

“Mhm.”

The woman’s eyes almost widened as she said, “A little goes a long way, don’t you think?”

“Sure does. My mimi—my grandmother, used to have a pomegranate tree. Learned to love them from a young age.”

“How wonderful,” the woman commented, “I sense southern roots…where about? Princeville?”

You halted and pushed your glasses further up the bridge of your nose at that. You knew your history regardless of being a journalist or not but this didn’t feel like good ‘ol southern chat with this woman. It felt invasive and unsettling.

Clearing your throat, you pulled on the top of the bottle, weighing the juices in your arms as the woman cradled the basket that held small amounts of pink petals that grew from the lengthy green leaves and stems. Almost as if she pulled the shrubs up herself, which you noticed she had lace gloves covering her hands. You’ve never seen flowers like those and planned on picking up some here later but there was a feeling in your gut telling you otherwise.

“A much bigger city,” you responded with a small smile, “my family leaves their mark wherever they go. We tend to be active in many communities. Excuse me, I have to get back to shopping.”

The woman kept a smile on her face as you talked, not blinking once as you conversed. She turned while you walked by her before she called out to you, “Yes, Miss. we all have to finish our deeds before God pours the storm on us. You should enjoy that juice to ease his suffering and return.”

You didn’t grant the woman a word or a glance as you sped-walked back to Em who also happened to be chatting with a bald buff man. You caught their attention as you placed the items back into the carriage, almost roughly.

“Hey baby, this is my new friend, Duncan. He listens to Angel and I’s podcast…matter of fact, why don’t you snap a pic on our phones so I can send it to him and our socials?”

“Really? Oh no. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Oh please! Anybody that’s a supporter of mine, can get something as simple as a conversation and a picture. Don’t be shy on me now, Duncan!”

The man grinned as he cautiously held out his phone to you, “Only if you don’t mind?”

This was nothing new.

Ever since operation nope hit the internet and radio stations, people were intrigued to know the people who took it on. You didn’t feel any sort of way when people would come up to Emerald, you admired how she handled herself with grace, chatting with people with ease as they inquired about the what and the how.

Although she was advised not to speak much on it, with hush money, her and Angel still touched on some of it on their supernatural podcast: UNO U KNOW U.F.NO! Yes it was lengthy title that was abbreviated when you search for it but it makes sense if you’re observant and think about it. The listeners that get it, get it and those that don’t?

They don’t listen.

You seemed to be on autopilot, taking the phones as you snapped a few pictures, which Duncan thanks you two for before the both of you carried on shopping. You didn’t see the woman around anymore and that still didn’t make you feel alright.

“Can we hurry out of this section, em?”

“Yeah sure,” Emerald responded as she finished up some texts before shoving her phone into her back pocket, “we only need some fruits then we can head out into the main aisles.”

“I think we’ll be fine with frozen fruits, we don’t eat the fresh ones fast enough.”

“Speak for yourself, there’s nothing wrong with stocking up.” Em leaned on the carriage as she pushed forward, “don’t worry about a thing, I’m buying.”

Quietly you responded, “okay,” eyes still searching the area around you.

Emerald raises her brows at this, stopping in front of the pineapples, “…you okay? Is The AC making your head hurt again or something? Usually you’re all up for debating on who wants to pay.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” a look of uncertainty passed on Emerald’s face as she wrapped the pineapple in a plastic bag for protection before placing it into the carriage.

The tension in your shoulders almost faltered as the both of you went through the main floor, breezing through two aisles until you got to the third one. You stood in front of the carriage while Em voiced her complaints on oat milk and coconut milk. She had her back to the opposite end of the aisle while from your peripheral you saw a flash of black.

Turning your head, you glanced out the aisle and saw no one for awhile before a customer walked by with a carriage.

“I mean I don’t even care for oat milk like that, I think it messes with my stomach. Almond milk ain’t all that and coconut milk is only good for certain meals…wait a damn minute they got rice milk? How do they do that?!” Emerald browsed the milks in awe.

It was when you turned back, you saw her. She was walking by the aisle, raising a few fingers to wave at you, sickening smile planted on her lips, except her green large eyes were almost see-through, a silver tone that flashes as she went by.

Hell. nawl.

Leaving the carriage behind, you backed up in the other direction and took off into a sprint.

“Aries?” Em called out to you.

However you didn’t look back until your back was pressed up against the car. Emerald was only seconds behind you, hands on her knees as she finally caught up to you.

“…what…the…hell…was that? you never told me you were a track star?!”

You pulled yourself from the heat of the car that seeped through the thin material of your shirt and yanked on the car door handle. Emerald was completely confused but something was clearly going on as she rested a hand on your waist.

“Hey, tell me what’s going on?”

You swallowed, “There’s a shapeshifter or some shit in there that’s been following me—or us around!”

“Say what now?” The look of seriousness washed over Emerald’s features as she let go of you to start patting herself for the keys.

You nodded your head, not showing a ounce of humor on your own face and Emerald knew she had to ask questions later. Unlocking the doors, you threw yourself inside, waiting for Emerald to jog around the car to get into the driver’s side. She locked the doors and stuck the key in the ignition as specs of rain began to platter against the window shield.

Before she could turn the key, the both of you turned to the right parking space to see a yellow Volkswagen beetle pulling up beside you with their window down. It was the same woman with the bow sun hat, smiling and her eyes flickering silver like a coin about to be spun in circles, just watching you two before she sped off.

That action alone made your glasses fog up more than the humidity outside.

You sank into your seat, ripping your glasses from your face, other hand holding onto the strap of the seatbelt as you croaked out, “Did you see that?”

“Uh uh. And I don’t want no damn parts,” Emerald stated as she started the car, putting it in reverse not bothering to use the back up camera this time, “Let’s get the hell up outta here and call OJ.”

You pulled out your own phone with shaky hands as Emerald led the both of you in the opposite direction. As the phone rang on the Bluetooth, Emerald reached out to grip your hand in her’s.

The touch was comforting enough but you couldn’t help but to think:

Here we go again.

However it was round one for you and round two for Em but with the warmth of her hand in yours, maybe you’ll make it out just fine with her by your side.

Or you could both simply ignore this?

Yeah…

Right.

ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.* ↟ ੈ✩‧✧.*

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

#nope #nope film #nope 2022 #jordan peele #keke palmer #emerald haywood #em haywood #emerald haywood x reader #emerald haywood x f! reader #emerald haywood x black! reader #em haywood x reader #em haywood x f! reader #em haywood x black reader #summer prompts #queued

[globaljobalert-blog]

Content Marketing Manager - Remote

Company: Clipboard Health Why Clipboard Health Exists: We exist to lift as many people up the socioeconomic ladder as possible. We dramatically improve lives, by letting healthcare professionals turn extra time and ambition into career growth and financial opportunity. We achieve this with our app-based marketplace that connects healthcare facilities and healthcare professionals, allowing healthcare professionals to book on-demand shifts and healthcare facilities to access on-demand talent. Our mission is to enable healthcare professionals to work when and where they want, and to enable healthcare facilities to meet their talent needs. About Clipboard Health: Clipboard Health is a post-Series C, extremely fast-growing tech startup with classic two-sided network effects, revolutionizing the market for healthcare talent. We are a diverse and inclusive company with a global, remote team. We have been named one of YC’s Top Companies for two years running, and have grown 25x across all key metrics in the last 18 months. There has never been a more exciting time to join our growing team and help us serve even more healthcare professionals and healthcare facilities, who can then better serve patients. To learn more about the culture at Clipboard Health, take a look at our culture hub here. About the role: The goal for the Content Marketing Manager will be to develop and execute a strategy to capture mindshare of prospective and current customers. We want Clipboard Health to immediately come to mind when a healthcare facility has staffing needs, and this person will take full ownership over making that happen. Below are some examples of things we’d expect from this role in the first 30 days: - Generate a content calendar with tight deadlines and ambitious goals - Scour industry publications, news articles, and company websites in order to generate 20 new content ideas per week - Write and publish at least 2 new blog articles, customer stories, or case studies per week - Conduct 4 customer interviews per week and integrate them into blog posts, emails and social media marketing content - Send a weekly email to our full user base of prospective and current customers You’re an excellent candidate if you have: - Written blog articles and/or case studies for businesses. You spoke with customers, learned their pain-points and interests, identified topics most relevant to them, and wrote articles that were attention-catching, relevant, and helpful to your audience. - Managed email marketing campaigns. - The ability to interview customers in order to provide expert advice and news. - Excellent copywriting skills - can write clear, compelling and engaging content.  - A good eye for design. - A data-driven mindset: - You know how to carefully track engagement and iterate based on what you observe. - You are comfortable with A/B testing and experimentation. - You can deliver clear, concise and accurate reporting on key performance metrics. - Worked independently and collaboratively in extremely fast-paced environments. APPLY ON THE COMPANY WEBSITE To get free remote job alerts, please join our telegram channel “Global Job Alerts” or follow us on Twitter for latest job updates. Disclaimer:  - This job opening is available on the respective company website as of 1stJuly 2023. The job openings may get expired by the time you check the post. - Candidates are requested to study and verify all the job details before applying and contact the respective company representative in case they have any queries. - The owner of this site has provided all the available information regarding the location of the job i.e. work from anywhere, work from home, fully remote, remote, etc. However, if you would like to have any clarification regarding the location of the job or have any further queries or doubts; please contact the respective company representative. Viewers are advised to do full requisite enquiries regarding job location before applying for each job.   - Authentic companies never ask for payments for any job-related processes. Please carry out financial transactions (if any) at your own risk. - All the information and logos are taken from the respective company website. Read the full article

[lunaamorris]

4 Good Questions To Ask Your CPA

Finding the right CPA for your business is a difficult task, but once you find a company that is a good fit for your requirements, then the work starts. Further tax preparation and filling make it essential for your CPA to set up an advisory association with you. They start by getting to know what long-term financial goals they can help you with and summarizing the extra services you need over the next few years. You should do your first meeting with an exact idea of what your CPA can do for you and whether are they able to answer all your questions.

It is also necessary to get a feel for what services are outside the scope of what your company provides and whether your CPA is comfortable guiding you to someone else for a related service. So how do you know if your CPA is going further and beyond basic keeping to create a tax strategy? Here are some questions to ask -:

Who is on my team at the company?

Depending on the size of your business and the services you need, you need to work with more than one expert within the company. Find out what works on your account and ask about the best ways to communicate with your team.

Can you work as a team with other service providers?

For more services, your CPA needs to cooperate with your bookkeeper, banker, lawyer, or other business service providers. When it is more than a point of sharing documents and information, it is most efficient to put them in direct contact with each other.

How do you see us succeeding together?

Whether your business is rather new or old, your financial procedures continue to grow year after year. There is a wide range of services to support at every stage along the way with things like cash flow, checks and balances, your succession plan, and much more. Anytime you meet with a new CPA, ask what they expect your association to look like in the coming years.

What things are changing this year that affect my tax filing?

Tax laws change each year, but many other kinds of rules and regulations can impact your tax bill. For example, a few years ago there was some talk about eliminating better rates on capital gains taxes.

What can I do now to reduce overall tax liability?

The answer to this question can only be answered by CPA once they understand the structure of your business entity and they know where you are operating. Yet, there are tax planning strategies that take time to put in place and specific deadlines.

Final thoughts

CPAs know the basic tricks to catch specific deductions at tax time, but more experienced accountants can see the bigger picture of a long-term tax savings strategy. One of the most necessary parts of CPA services is helping you feel confident in the decisions you are making about your business. When they understand what is on your mind, they can help you decide what is realistic for your business and offer things you can do to set yourself up for success.

#cpa #services #business #taxes #planning

[sbrar20]

E- PORTFOLIO

Academic & Professional Communications: E-portfolio

Sukhmeet Singh Brar

100659505

Submitted to: Sharyn Meade

Week 2. ‘Starting out’

When schools re-open people are there are mixed reactions with some excited on seeing their best friends and others saddened by the end of the holidays. Others are confused and struggling with the home-sick feeling. As for me, the first week at school was fun, scaring, and exciting. We had resumed from the holiday breaks and so I was scared on whether I would easily catch-up. It was fun in that I was going to be seeing, interacting, and hangout with my friends whom we had not seen each other for quite some time. The semester is my initial and I had made up my mind to even work extra harder this term. With everything set, I was ready for the classes and the co-curricular activities. Hence, in order to be highly productive and to effectively balance all the activities I made a semester assessment ‘map’. That would ensure that I capture all the important events and their scheduled time. Moreso, I wrote down all my goals for the term with a determination to fulfill all of them. Last but not the least, I ensured that my accommodation was fully settled and that I would remain comfortable for the rest of the semester. 

Week 5. ‘Teamwork’

Group work is one of the most effective learning strategies. Being in a group is one thing while being in a group that you can effectively contribute is another. While formulating the groups, our professor made it clear that we are not just going to learn to work together for academics only but also, we will acquire skills that will enable us to work together as professionals in the future. When people work collectively towards achieving a mutual goal, then it becomes easier than when working individually. A team works best since the team members are able to motivate one another and together they fulfill their mission and the vision. 

From the group discussion, what appeared to work extremely well for us was the communication strategies that the group had adopted. Based on the nature of the task ahead, we had to hold frequent meetings and largely consult with each other so as to obtain the best and the most interactive design for the presentation. In our first meeting, the acting chair was given the role of creating a WhatsApp group where discussions would take place when people are not meeting physically. Second, the group succeeded due to the high level of coordination. After every meeting, important points were written down and they would later be consulted while making the final presentation. 

Clarity was our other success strategy. First, the team’s chairperson clarified on the list of tasks to be done. Second, he made all the necessary clarifications on the deadlines for each member to submit their work. Upon submission, the chair clarified on how reviews would be done as well as how the work was going to be combined. It was at this stage that we came up with ways to support the weaker members. 

In support of our ideas, an article “Potnuru, R. K. G., Sahoo, C. K., & Sharma, R. (2018). Team building, employee empowerment and employee competencies: Moderating role of organizational learning culture. European Journal of Training and Development.” Was obtained from the Google scholar database. The article elaborates about team building and how giving clear roles can help a team to succeed. On completion and after doing the presentation, the professor and the entire class was pleased and they commended us for such a great presentation and for greatly working together. In future, when working with a team, I would always emphasize on the importance of communication, coordination, and clarity. 

Week 7. ‘Self-management: motivation and resilience’

To survive in college, one requires so much internal motivation as well as high resilience. With so much to handle and within very short deadlines, one must be highly motivated to work tirelessly and attain the required minimal. Besides, it is within our schools for students to take part-time shifts in order to be able to cater for their financial needs and to prevent them from becoming a burden in the society. For me, it was hard to multitask. However, I encouraged myself and made it through. Also, among the courses I had taken, two of the courses appeared to be very hard. At one moment, I felt as though I would write to the Dean to allow me to drop one of them. However, I worked extra hard and ensured that I grasped everything taught in class. During my free time, I did private studies and that highly contributed towards shaping of my final grade. Besides, I had two close friends that highly motivated me. Fortunately, they had done the courses earlier and they willingly helped on what got hard. The other success factor was my ability to stick to my personal timetable. It ensured I did the right thing at the right time.

Week 9. ‘Understanding and utilising feedback’

Today, almost everyone depends on feedback to succeed in whatever they are doing. As for me, this semester was full of feedback. I received positive and encouraging feedback from the course instructors. Also, I received more positive feedback at the workplace and from both the customers and the management. For instance, when I had trouble citing work in my research papers, the instructor whom I enquired from directed me to very resources materials. It was from these books and online tutorials that I was able to learn the entire concept. People should always allow feedbacks since it highlights on some of the areas that one can improve. In fact, most of the feedback is given with a positive intention. In the past, taking feedback negatively was what prevented me from learning. I viewed every lecturer’s feedback as a call to revise the work I had done and that appeared to piss me off. However, I have changed the perspective. In fact, I have learnt to accept feedback the hard way. Apart from reading the feedback, one must act on it. For instance, one works on the negativities in the attempt to improve and make them positive. 

Week 11. ‘Managing assessments’

At the higher institutions of learning, assessments tend to be the most difficult thing to accomplish. Some people tend to wait until it is the last moment to handle the assignments and I was not an exception. Normally, the professors have the assignments posted in the student portals as early as possible. Some assignments have the days when they open and the deadline. In our institution, most assignments open only when certain topics are handled. During this semester, everything was the same. However, I decided to work differently. I handled every assignment the moment it opened. But sometimes there is any assignment that I tackled under the pressure of the deadline. The method appeared to work for me since I got ample time to study for the end of semester exams. Also, I paid closer attention to the feedback given by the instructor. It was through the feedback that I was able to know that I have so many challenges when it comes to citations. I would put the right references but get it wrong when writing the in-text citations. With the help of one of the instructors, I learnt how to write intext citations in MLA and APA. Interestingly, I learnt to input footnotes in the papers that require CMS.

Week 13. ‘Future strategies’

Skills

By the time the semester was coming to an end, I had caught the learning momentum and had more energy to keep learning. However, I was forced to reserve the energy for the next semester. Towards the end of the semester, I learnt a few lessons which would make my learning more fan and easier in the future. First, I learnt the importance of planning ahead. The semester assessment ‘map’ that I created in the first week kept me on toes such that I did not miss any activity. When adjustments were made, I also ensured that I adjusted mine to avoid confusions.

Knowledge

My biggest lesson was learnt during the formation of the team and while doing the presentation. The group project appeared hard at first but we accomplished it with a lot of ease. Everything, including the actual presentation, was done swiftly and in the best way possible. Peer to peer explanations highly worked for me. Thus, I was able to learn from the other team members more. Communication was highly efficient. In fact, the team’s WhatsApp group was very lively with everything member contributing their piece of mind. In fact, whenever the chair wanted to update on the written points, he closed the group such that nobody interfered with the fluency. Everything was met with clarity. Proper coordination was also observed. 

Attitudes/Behaviour

Towards the beginning of the semester, I ensured that I made a follow up on every concept taught in class. In fact, I made a decision to follow up with my lecturer when an issue came up and I did not understand. My emails towards the course instructors increased and the feedback I received was amazing. I handled the assignments and course quizzes on time and that played a big role in time management. As for the hard concepts, I practice patience and resilience. I developed self-motivation techniques from which I encouraged that everything will be alright.

[metrobusinessadvisors]

Fall harvest: time to gather our thoughts and plan what’s next

By Dave Driscoll

Summer giving way to the harvest season always caused me to reflect on where my business was and identify the top three initiatives to tackle in the coming year.

With vacations complete, the kids back to school, and a return to a more work-focused schedule, the time was right to formalize the observations and ideas from the summer into a PLAN. Some years, my business was doing well and there really wasn’t a need to change the strategic plan; you know, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

But more often than not, there were aspects of the business that needed attention. In today’s world, employees, client deliveries, and pricing would likely be on the list.

The obvious remedies are not always available. For example, we currently have a critical shortage of potential employees. Instead of hiring more people, managing your labor needs may require a serious look at downsizing the operations, systems, and output based on what your current crew can produce, while recalibrating your business expectations accordingly.

I sold my manufacturing business in 2006. The custom products we sold were produced on equipment that needed employees to operate in an efficient manner to meet the committed delivery dates. We struggled to find employees who had the skills required. I remember managers hiring two or three people in the hope of finding that one employee who was the right fit. Today, that isn’t possible; instead, you hope to find one solid prospect, and hold your breath they will be able to fulfill your team’s needs.

Given the production challenges we had “in the good old days,” I can’t imagine the struggles manufacturers have today to produce and deliver orders on time. Even as more automation is implemented, if you don’t have the people, the equipment does not run. Then the schedule that was sequenced to meet customer demands must be shuffled and the delivery commitments that were made can’t be met, which means unhappy customers.

How do you deal with such volatility and still meet customer quality and delivery expectations? The challenge becomes a choice. To meet a specific delivery date, you must pad the schedule with extra time/days to increase the probability of on time delivery OR be selective and only accept orders with the highest likelihood of a consistent on-time delivery.

Responding to a challenge may require reassignment of available employees who have the knowledge and skills needed to consistently meet deadlines. Unfortunately, that means prioritizing one segment of your business and supporting certain customers over others.

Pricing your products in an uncertain operating environment is an additional layer of strategic calculation. If you concentrate on one segment of your business to the detriment of another, can you still generate enough gross margin to cover your operating expenses and be profitable? What if you can’t?

The cascade of decisions that need to be considered by owners is daunting and could require a total realignment of your business. Or this may cause you to evaluate whether you can (or want to) continue to operate the business. If you don’t want to continue to fight the battle and hope to survive, you may want to sell your business, merge with a competitor, or liquidate.

Wishing for a return to how things used to be and planning as if that will happen is a waste of energy. The only thing constant is change so every business owner must direct the company to evolve in order to survive and thrive. Proactive planning will protect your business better than trying to catch up to the curve.

Managing your business requires planning in every season. For me, fall seemed to be the time of year when I was most inclined to reflecting and planning. Being in business means constantly evaluating probabilities to make the best decisions and it’s important to step back and look at the big picture at least annually. Strategic planning takes courage to change course and live with the outcome. Which three aspects of your business most need attention?

Dave Driscoll is president of Metro Business Advisors, a mergers & acquisitions, valuation and exit/succession planning firm helping owners of companies with revenue up to $20 million sell their most valuable asset. Reach Dave at [email protected] or [phone].  www.MetroBusinessAdvisors.com

As seen in Dave's monthly column in St. Louis Small Business Monthly

See more tips for #smallbusinessowners on our blog!

#strategicplanning #businessplanning

[alkalinefrog]

may I request your top 10 favorie lawlight fics ?? I’m really interested

AIGHT BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP because I’ve got a lot of feelings about these! Also, people have been asking me for fics featuring:

Ryuk shenanigans

yagami sibling hijinks

whammy kids found family

----- from my bingo card I made a while back. Tbh, I put those on the list to try and manifest the energy into the universe hoping people would bring fics to ME about them lmao. I do have a couple that check the boxes though! 

Also thank you to everyone who’s been recommending me fics!! You’ve all hit the nail on the head and sing straight to my heart! I’m just slow to make my way through them between work. <3

GOING UNDER THE CUT (rip mobile users)

Aight here we go, in no particular order:

“Change OR the one where L and Light get married” by @translightyagami (I’m so sorry I keep tagging you in these alsfjkalsfdj)

The one I never shut up about and am adapting part of into a comic because it’s just that GOOD. :’’’D Light and L get married in front of Watari and Light’s family back at the Whammy orphanage in England. A melancholy yet painfully sweet tale as Light and L reminisce on their history together while getting ready for the ceremony, and their first night together afterwards. Single-handedly sold me on Kira being intrinsically part of Light to boot.

“the forest holds strange creatures” by @translightyagami (I’m sorryyyyyyy I just love your stuff)

An AU where Light’s a paranormal researcher and L’s a reclusive cryptid living in the forest next to a small town. The writing has a fairytale feel to it, and the romance is so gentle. Light’s bunking at Whammy’s small little house, and Near and Mello are there as little kids pestering Light. It’s ADORABLE. Beyond Birthday also shows up in one of the extra chapters as a creepy cashier at a thrift shop for double the fun!

"Sickness” by BlueberryValentine (more fics on their fanfiction.net account!)

The ultimate hurt/comfort + fluff + angst with a happy ending fic. The first fic I read to get back into lawlight a couple months back! Canon divergence starting during the Yotsuba arc. Light is diagnosed with terminal brain cancer while still under investigation. L has to take care of him, and somewhere along the way they fall in love. It carved out a chunk of my heart but luckily filled it back up with a sweet sort of aching.

“Seeking His Hand” by magic__mind

Historical regency AU! L is a rich nobleman courting Light, a humble farm boy, for his hand in marriage. One of the most romantic pieces of literature that I have ever come across. The prose is pure poetry, and their love so pure! This one also has a special place in my heart for its portrayal of Misa! She’s A)a spy who helps L on his cases, B)totally removed from her co-dependence for Light, C)the  bubbly badass she was always meant to be. 100/10 worth the read!

The “Resurrections” Series by Shadow_of_Quill

A modern Orpheus and Euridice story, wherein Light’s spirit leads L back from Hades while he’s still Kira. L is thereby present for the confrontation at the warehouse. Believing that any trace of Light is lost in the man, he executes him right then and there. However, this was a grave mistake, and Light’s soul won’t be as easily revived. (spoilers, they’re both fine in the end) ******* THIS ONE ALSO INCLUDES YAGAMI SIBLING HIJINKS. Sayu plays a HUGE role in bringing Light back!

“Is This The Way It Ends Now?” by Seastar98

The one that checks off ALL the above three boxes!! A “characters watch their own show” fic, wherein the gang receives a mysterious DVD in the middle of the Yotsuba arc. Horrified by what’s to come, Light and L work to make sure their future is brighter than the one they witness. They bring in all three heirs to watch with ‘em, everyone gets character development, and Sayu comes in like black panther in endgame yet again to bring Light back from the darkness! Ryuk pops up in the end and the epilogue and he’s great. The ultimate and most direct fix-it you’re ever gonna get.

“From the Same Star” by Nilahxapiel

This is my only pure “Ryuk Shenanigans” fic, and it’s really really sad :’’’D A short but sweet one-shot wherein Ryuk traverses multiple dimensions, dropping the Death Note at Light’s feet each time. Light and L were always fated to clash, and it’s just as heartbreaking every time. 

“Primitive Liars” by Nilahxapiel

This one’s super popular in the fandom for a reason! The only omegaverse fic that I’ve liked! The A/B/O dynamics and their affect on society are super well developed, and the writer manages to keep L and Light very in character while still developing their budding romance in a believable way. This is an AU where somebody else is Kira, and Light’s genuinely helping L and the task force hunt him down. ***** Naomi Misora lives, the heirs come in, and Sayu actually hops aboard the task force!!! DUDE. BRILLIANT. I also just love the exploration of gender and identity that the author weaves in. Lots of LGBTQ rep!

“and indeed there will be time” by lawlietismyfavorite

The ultimate soulmate AU. People grow to be 18, then stop aging until they meet their one. L is the greatest detective of not only this century, but of six centuries. And then there's Light. (taken straight from the description!) The prose is absolutely breathtaking; like walking through a dream. Can not recommend this fic enough! It’s got my head up in the clouds and looking towards the stars!

“K” by  Dlvvanzor

AU where Light’s a Whammy with the moniker ‘K.’ He and L grow up together along with kiddos covering the rest of the alphabet. A murder-mystery-thriller on top of the romance featuring Beyond Birthday as a main character! Light’s a pathological liar and L’s super into it. They’re the top students at Whammy’s and are tasked with solving a string of homicides happening RIGHT AT THE ORPHANAGE (guess who dunnit). It had me on the edge of my seat, and I binged the whole thing in two days.

i’mMMMM doing more than 10, this’ll just be my ultimate fic rec post 😂

“Change of Circumstances” by wordbombs

Another AU where Light’s a whammy! It’s just a one-shot though, but one of my all time faves!!! I’ve gone back and reread it so many times and drew some stuff for it a couple weeks back. Much more light-hearted than “K”, Light arrives at the orphanage at age four and meets an eleven year old L, and from there they grow up together and fall in love (the age difference is handled really well, L’s not physically present for a lot of Light’s childhood and they bond on a platonic level first). It’s one of the healthiest relationship dynamics that I’ve seen for these two, which is honestly such a breath of fresh air. Matt, Mello, and Near are there too in the background!

“Dial K for Kira” by @kiranatrix

“Light needs some easy money to finance his Kira plans, and notices there’s a big demand for Kira roleplay phone sex. So he figures, “Why not? Pretty sure I’ll be convincing.”He raises some fast cash and plans to shut the whole thing down and get back to writing names, until he gets a request from somebody who wants to “roleplay” as L....“

Taken straight from the description! It’s very VERY NSFW so be warned. I’m too shy to talk about it more alskfjdasldjf sorry BUT IT’S GREAT.

“Dance with Me” and “Birthday Note” by @dotti55fanfiction

These are both one-shots so I’m putting ‘em together! Absolutely adorable tooth-rotting fluff!! “Dance with Me” has Light and L going to a club, while “Birthday Note” features L trying to think of the best present for Light. The dictionary definition of “warm fuzzies.” (Dotti ilu, I still gotta find time to read your longer works)

“you’re a wasp nest” by  raisuki (inthegripofahurricane)

Blind!Light AU! Light and L are both college students who meet when Sayu dares L to break into her house. Yagami sibling hijinksssss! Their quippy dialogue is adorable and it’s just a fun time watching them flirt.

“softly now” by smallestbird (jenwryn)

THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THIS REC. The softest lawlight one-shot to finish off this list! Light and L share an intimate moment while painting their new apartment. The absolute JOY this fic radiates in a short 700 words!! Read it before bed for the sweetest dreams!

These are just my favourites, but read anything by any of these authors and you will not be disappointed! I might make a separate post later for soulmate AUs because... There’s just too many. :’D

-Alka

#Anonymous #ask #fic rec #lawlight #text #when you meet a work deadline and use the extra time to catch up on asks lol

[1kook]

wrong place, right time

— a someway, somehow jjk x reader drabble summary “Marry me,” Jungkook says one night warning smut is mentioned in passing (jk getting tied up, gagged, crying lol, also him fingering oc), da ex girlfriend Sojin is mentioned 😨, oc is a LIL scared..... she gets over it lol rating m (18+) wc 1k

note (!) alas.... our last swsh drabble to fulfill the arc I accidentally began for them <3 rip in peaces u will be missed mrs. ‘swish’

His timing is absolutely terrible.

At first, you had wanted to believe Jungkook was the normal one, that it was you who moved according to strict imaginary schedules. Wake up at exactly 6:14am every morning, grab your keys by 6:43. Precise, exact. Jungkook and everyone else moved according to more lax rules. The auto shop opens at 9am, sometimes 9:10 if traffic is bad; it closes at 11pm or whenever the last client leaves. Compared to Jungkook, you were just too picky about timing, too strict. 

For a long time, that seemed to be accurate. 

“Marry me,” Jungkook says one night, rolled beneath an old Dodge pick-up truck that has definitely seen better days. You’re sitting off to the side, fingers flying across your phone’s keyboard as you type up an angry email. It’s muffled, the sound of his voice absorbed by the junk of metal above him. You pretend you don’t hear it. A few minutes later, he rolls out from underneath, has got a dark streak of something painted across his perfect forehead. He taps the pointed toe of your heel with a wrench. “Marry me,” he repeats. 

You balk. “You’re asking me now?” you clarify just in case, phone slowly coming to rest against your thighs. He tilts his head to the side, shrugs like he sees nothing weird about the situation. There’s no other word to explain the emotion that blooms in your chest other than completely dumbfounded. “Like… right now?” 

Jungkook’s not even looking at you anymore, too busy shuffling through his toolbox for that one weird shaped tool you see him use often. “Do you want me to ask another time?” he suggests casually. When he looks back up, he’s got this slightly confused look on his face, as if you’re the odd one. And because the moment is just so… weird you find yourself nodding along. 

And that’s that. You move on, pretend like Jungkook’s weirdly placed proposal didn’t happen, let it settle in the very back of your mind. Not like it’s hard, anyway. Your schedule is packed, clouded with meetings and deadlines, all your new roles as the department manager, and you barely have time to think about it. 

He tries again about a month later. 

“Marry me,” he gasps after a wild night beneath the sheets. There’s tender marks lining his rib cage, over his arms, around his throat. His face is still flushed, and there’s drying cum against his tummy. He might’ve cried tonight from overstimulation, but you can’t quite remember. That’s how he asks you the second time. 

For some reason, you laugh the second time. “What?” you chuckle, and maybe it was one of those protective measures, laughing in a tense situation because you don’t know what else to say. Your mind is still stuck somewhere between the gags and the cuffs and the tears and the way his skin had bruised beneath your touch. 

Jungkook rolls out his wrist— it’s red, so fucking red —and then promptly reaches for your hand. The pad of his thumb is rough from years of working, swipes across your knuckles lovingly. “Marry me,” he says, but you can’t tell if the blush on his cheeks is from his bashfulness or from the fact you had choked him a few minutes prior. “I want to marry you.”

Your brain stalls, mouth opening and closing. Jungkook doesn’t seem too bothered. He kisses your knuckles, asks you to get the salve from his drawer instead. He doesn’t mention it again that night, just lets you rub his back and goes to sleep. 

The next time comes sooner, about a week later. 

His mom mentions it one night, the three of you squeezed into the tiny kitchen of his family home as his dad snores in the other room. “Sojin is getting married,” she says, and the air is sucked out of the room. At least, it is for you. 

You try to play it off, straining your eyes to catch a glimpse of him in your peripheral. “Really,” Jungkook says, half a turkey sandwich in his mouth. He’s still in his jumpsuit from work, has it knotted around his waist in that way that makes him look extra beefy, extra sexy. “That’s crazy.”

His mom hums, and their genuine lack of emotion towards the news makes you feel like you’re the crazy one once again. “She sent an invitation.” 

She leaves the kitchen soon after, leaves you quietly stirring the sugar into your coffee as Jungkook gobbles down his sandwich. A loud gulp, the loud smack of his lips. “We should get married,” he says, and you jolt, spoon clattering loudly against the inside of your mug. 

Your brain doesn’t struggle for a response this time. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily have you giving him a good response either. “Like Sojin,” you reply, and feel weird about it immediately. Icky. Gross. Bitter. 

Apparently, Jungkook gets it. “Or we can get married in ten years,” he suggests instead, skips over your little blunder like he never heard it at all. “Or fifty.”

You appreciate it. “When I’m saggy,” you mumble, eyes hyper-focused on the mini whirlpool inside your coffee mug. 

He hums, bumps his hip against yours. “My cute, senior citizen girlfriend. We can drive one of those retro cars around town.”

The worst one yet is on the side of the road, your car battery giving out on the highway that connects the city to your hometown. Jungkook picks you up, pulls up behind you and has the audacity to catcall you as he walks up. “Hey, beautiful,” he flirts after you punch his stupidly strong bicep, grins this cheesy thing at you as he gets to work. 

In the end, your car can’t be revived with the limited tools he brought along. You settle on waiting inside his truck, snuggled beneath his jacket as you wait for the tow truck. He gets the bright idea to fondle you beneath the coat, the dying sunset painting his charming face in a romantic glow that has you seeing stars and galaxies and nebulae when you come. “Marry me,” he husks out, mouth slotted against yours. 

It’s the last time he asks; it’s the first time you say yes.

#networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #Jungkook smut #jungkook #jeon Jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #swshd #mine

[funfunfuntillmydaddy]

Competitive Bid

Not all cheating is equal. Some kinds of cheating are just extra fun and there are ways to get double points for cheating challenges.

The most points on offer in the cheating Olympics is when there is a high degree of risk in getting caught,

Lucky for me, this is one of my biggest turn ons. Specifically, if a guy's wife or girlfriend catches us and he's so into it that he can't stop. He just has to keep fucking me.

Guys seem to always fantasise about getting caught and then she joins in for a threesome. I guess that's kinda hot but nothing that really gets me going and it seems super unlikely, like real porn fantasy stuff.

Getting caught is an inevitability though, especially when you are up for cheating as much as I am and love the risk. In the half dozen times when I have been caught in the act by my co-conspirator’s other half, it has been a mood killer and continuing wasn't really an option. Except, well, for one time. But it wasn't his wife that caught us.

I had been at the agency for six months and was still on the graduate program when I got sent out on secondment to one of the agency's major clients.

While this was common practice, it was unusual for such an inexperienced graduate to

get sent to a client. My manager told me it was due to me being a quick learner and a hard worker and he said I should be proud that the senior exec there had asked for me personally.

Well, I guess I was proud, but I had meet him a few times at his company's offices, so I didn't let the compliment on my smarts or work ethic go to my head, too much. I took pride in some of my other assets.

Once the secondment started, I got a lot of attention from that senior exec, Patrick. He personally did my office induction and took me to lunch on my first day. He told me that the project I would be working on was very important to the company and him and I would be working very closely together. He asked if that would be a problem. Of course, I said it wouldn't. and just to make it clear about how ambitious I am I asked him if it was a really hard project, because I really like hard things. He just smiled back at me.

Patrick would have been early 50s. Handsome and tall, but not in the best physical condition. Not bad at all, like you wouldn't say fat, but wasn't one of those older guys that obsess over their diet and exercise.

Mid way through the first week and we were already up against a huge deadline for the project. The team had spent the whole day in the project 'war-room' (God, corporate people can be overly dramatic, it was just a boardroom) getting all of the documents prepared. There was about a dozen of us at the peak, but that whittled down as it got late into the evening and we finished all of the specifications. Some of the people had been working all night and looked exhausted.

As seven o'clock hit, the last of the others left and it was just Patrick and me. He suggested we celebrate getting the stuff finished before deadline. He retrieved two glasses and a bottle of expensive looking scotch from his executive office down the hall

By eight o'clock Patrick's trousers were down, and I was on my knees sucking his cock. I had been for 10 minutes already. The loud sounds of sucking and slurping filling the war room and probably spilling out to the rest of the executive floor.

He wanted more. He lifted me back up and bent me over the boardroom table. It was a grand oak table that was very solid, definitely up to the task I thought as I was pushed down onto it.

He unceremoniously hiked up my pencil skirt and pulled a part my white blouse, sending at least two buttons flying. His animalistic desires really took hold.

In my six months of work experience in the corporate world, I knew exactly what these kinds of interactions were like. Wham, bam, thank you young ambitious girl who might get rewarded with a promotion, or maybe fired. I wasn't expecting much satisfaction sexually and was expecting to go home fairly frustrated.

He went at me like someone who is very aware of the power imbalance and is in no hurry to correct it. Giving me even less hope of getting off. But I was surprised at his stamina. He kept going longer than a lot of other guys. So long in fact I actually got close to cumming. His grunting was starting to get louder and his pace more frenzied. I knew he was close. So was I.

That's when the door to the boardroom swung open and in walked his secretary. Her eyes going wide, her mouth falling open as she spotted us in the centre of the room, me bent over the table, her boss right behind me. I watched the look on her face change from shock, to anger, to despair.

I had run into his secretary a few times now. She was maybe a couple years older than me, attractive and pleasant. She was also four months pregnant. And it was only as I saw her face fall that the penny dropped. I can't believe I didn't realise straight away. The father of her unborn child was obviously the same guy who had his raw cock rammed all the way into me.

That knowledge brought me right to the edge. A guttural moan left my body.

"Oh, fuck yes. I'm gonna cum. Don't stop. Please. Fuck yes I'm cumming." I hollered out as the wave of my orgasm crashed through my whole body and

He didn't even break rhythm. His pace only slowing as he naturally got to the end of his routine and drove in slower, but deeper. Maybe he didn't see her. Afterall, the shock had made her unable to speak.

"Fuck yes." He grunted. "Fuck I'm gonna cum inside you. You're gonna take my cum you little slut."

Then I felt him slow completely as he pushed in deep and held it in me. I felt his cock throbbing inside me as he unloaded his seed inside me. at least five, maybe six grunts came out of him in time with each blast of cum. That's when his secretary turned and left. The sobbing now audible.

He collapsed onto me. He was totally spent.

"I don't think your secretary liked the show we put on." I said teasingly, still wondering if he saw her or was too engrossed in our fucking to notice.

"Oh well. She'll get over it. A bit of competition helps people stay on their toes." He said so coldly even I was shocked, briefly.

"Well, I certainly liked it. I've never cummed like that in the office before." I said as I caught my breath.

He lifted off me and pulled out. I felt like I needed to reward him for making me cum so hard, even if it really was his secretary who made sure I went over the orgasm cliff. I also wanted to show him how good the competition could be.

I got back on my knees and started cleaning his semi hard cock with my tongue while stroking it gently. He certainly seemed in no hurry to chase after his secretary.

I kept going and started sucking the head of his cock. as I stroked it faster. I wasn't expecting much, but soon enough it grew back to life. Not the experience I was used to with guys his age.

A couple minutes later and he was full on face fucking me. His hands around the back of my head as his hips thrusted into my face. His grunting returned and his breath sounded shallow. He was close again. I forced myself off his cock.

"Mmmm. Where do you wanna cum, stud?" I asked him invitingly.

"Ugh. Fuck." He grunted as his hand went to his cock and started stroking hard. "You're gonna get my cum all over that pretty little face."

He was furiously stroking his cock as I held my face right in front of him. I wondered how much he had left in the tank as his hard, red cock hovered menacingly in front of my face.

"Oh fuck. Yes slut. Here it comes." He grunted as his furious stroking changed to a slow, tight strangulation of his cock. Then the cum shot out.

I closed my eyes instinctively as the first rope hit me on the forehead and cheek. The second shot mostly hit my nostrils before the third and final shot went into my open mouth and onto my chin. Again, more cum than I was expecting in round two from a guy his age.

I gave him a flirty smile and a wink from my cum covered face, which he looked to enjoy. always important to put a cherry on the top in these transactions to really go one better than the competition.

After a little bit of clean up and some redressing, we silently agreed that it was best to leave it there for the night. I got my things and headed out the door and down the hallway.

I had to walk right past his office and his secretary's desk out front. I heard her sobbing before I saw her sitting at her desk. I didn't really think about it. I assumed she would have stormed off home. Kinda awkward.

But nothing to be concerned about. I just kept walking right past her desk even giving her a little bitchy smile as I went past and out the door to the elevators.

Seems like she didn't take it too well though. Like honestly bitch, if you live by your boss’s cock, you're gonna die by your boss’s cock. The worst thing you can do is get emotionally attached to these things.

The office gossip was that she phoned Patrick's wife that night and told her all about their affair. Patrick was on extended leave apparently trying to sort all of his messy personal affairs out.

Luckily, it didn't impact me. With Patrick gone, another senior exec was happy to take me under his wing. Fortunately, or unfortunately, his secretary was some old woman in her 60s. Nothing for his wife to worry about. And three months later, I finished the secondment with rave reviews and a nice bonus.

#cheating #affair #impreg kink #homewrecking

[bubsdolan]

if it hasn’t been asked, first time giving Gray head or a handjob -ohdolans 💜

ok i can imagine the first time you give grayson head, hes putting your wants and needs before his own. he’s making sure you’re comfortable, that you don’t push your boundaries and overwhelm yourself. of course he praises the fuck of you, constantly making it vocal how good his sweet and innocent girl made him feel.

you could sense how stressed grayson was the minute you entered his bedroom. after not hearing from your boyfriend all day and him not responding to your ‘on the way baby’ texts, with a ‘drive safe i love you’, you knew he had overworked himself and was yet to take a break from his many business ventures.

ethan let you in, greeting you with a warm, welcoming hug and explained how grayson hadn’t left his room since his workout at 7am this morning. he had deadlines to meet and the only way he could meet them was to shut the world out- but you were one part he could never neglected.

“hey bear,” you whisper agasint his skin, tiptoeing into the room and hugging a tense and tried grayson form behind. he relaxes at the feeling of your hands slipping under his shirt and scratching at his pecks. your warmth the first he had felt all day as he refused to move from his desk. 

he spins the chair around to face you, pulling you forward to straddle his lap as his meets your lips in a desperate hungry kiss. he forgot you had made plans to come for dinner, but he was so relived to see your pretty face. to have you in his arms again. 

“hey baby, missed you.” he mumbled over your lips, his hands resting on your arse cheeks as he held you safely in his lap. your own hands worked at the tight muscles of his shoulders, whilst staring lovingly into the melted chocolate of his eyes. the burnout visible as you see him physically and mentally relax, groaning in pleasure. 

“let me help you,” you whisper seductively in gryasons ear, overcome with a newfound confidence as your breath was warm and tempting but in turn made gray confused at what your intention were. it was only when he saw you drop to your knees in front of him and pull at the waist band of his tracksuit bottoms did his heart rate increase. 

“baby you don’t have to.”

“gray, i want to. please” grayson couldn't resist your puppy eyes, the feeling of his dick hardening and your delicate fingers desperately working to free him, was enough for him to give in. he lifts his hips off the chair and allows you to pull his pants down, his own hand now pumping at his dick as he watched you with a cocky smirk lick your lips in awe at the size of him. he was proud, cocky and so turned on right now.

“tell me what to do,” your eyes meet his, making him melt under you spell at how innocent you looked on your knees for him. so greedy for his cock.

“of course angel. can you spit in your hand and grab the tip for me?” his voice was soft and gentle, so patient with you as he guided you through your first time pleasing him. his cock throbbing as you do as he instructed.

squeezing slightly, you get a feel for his dick, hot and pulsing. he closes his eyes when that happens, letting his head fall back agasint the chair and humming in approval when you start to move your hand in firm strokes. 

“can you, ah… go faster?” he asks, voice breathy as you comply. staring to get more comfortable as being to rub him at a faster pace. decide you needed to taste him, eager to please so you take it one step further.

you move your mouth over the tip of his head, red and glistening, and you spit.  watching it run down the side of his cock as you take your tongue to guide over where his sensitive veins ran. his cock twitching in your mouth as he bucks his hips slightly due to the pressure.

“doing so well for me baby, such a pretty little mouth- fuck.” grayson praises, running his fingers through your hair in a comforting manner as he encourages you. blown away by how quickly you were picking up on deep throating him for the first time at your own pace.

letting your tongue do most of the work, you lick and press wet kisses to the his dick, using one of your thumbs to flick his wet slit and your hand cupping his shaft. he lets himself enjoy the attention, eyes still closed and cock still hard.  

you open your mouth and let him fuck up onto your tongue, licking his whole shaft. your eyes boring up at his as you witnessed the way he reacted to your mouth, getting so turned on at the sight of having grayson at your mercy. he watched you with a smirk at the way you clenched your legs together.

“oh, fuck that feels good,” he encourages.

you begin slowly, sucking on the tip with hollowed out cheeks and he can’t help himself. he moans and his breathing staggers. as you start to bob your head, avoiding teeth and trying not to go down too far, he keeps his hand on your head, encouraging you to take more and more down until his cock touches the back of your throat.

you gag a little and pull back, strings of spit connecting your lips to his cock still. tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you waited for grayson to instruct you once again.

“please, don’t stop.” he begs, his neck craned to look down at you, watching your mouth on him. he groans, and you take him back onto your tongue, towards your throat again, but not too far as you were still adjusting to the size of him.

“ah, i’m gonna…” he starts, but whimpers as you pick up the pace.

“i’m cumming, oh fuck, fuck, i’m—” you feel his cum spill on your tongue. you decide to swallow it, sucking him through his orgasm in which his hips buck again, and he has to grab a fistful of your hair in order to resist himself from plunging his cock to the back of your throat and face fucking you at his demand. 

“i love you,” he grunts, “so much.” emptying out the last of what he had to offer you. small droplets of cum dribbling down the side of your lips.

he comes down from his intense high, trying to catch his breath as he reaches for your hand to help you up from your knees. he situations you between his legs after dressing himself, leaning in to plant a kiss onto your now swollen lips and tasting himself. 

“did i do ok?” you shift awkwardly between his thighs, your fingers pulling at the baby stands of hair at the nape of his neck as you feared his reaction. he had received head many times before, but nothing would compare to the feeling of your tight lips around him. it was heavenly, making it extra special that the person making him another-worldly was his soulmate.

“fuck baby, you were perfect,” he kisses away your worries. being the sweet and attention boyfriend you fell head over heels in love with. “now let me take care of my girl.”

#bubsdolan #grayson dolan #grayson #grayson dolan blurb #grayson blurb #grayson dolan imagine #grayson imagine #grayson dolan fic #grayson fic #grayson dolan fluff #grayson fluff #grayson dolan smut #grayson smut #grayson oneshot #grayson dolan oneshot #grayson x reader #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson fanfic #dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #grayson dolan concept #dolan twins concept #dolan twins imagine #grayson concept #dolan twins x reader #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins smut #dolan twins oneshot

[amjustagirl]

Summary: She wonders if Akaashi Keiji could be her forever, (but then in the silence, her heart breaks).

Pairing: Akaashi x reader, Yaku x reader

Sequel here

AO3 Link here 

She meets Akaashi at an office mixer for magazine staff – he, an up and coming editor in the manga department, she, a translator for two languages.

Their paths meet when she spills a drink on his shoes (honestly, large crowds were never her forte) and her interest is immediately piqued when he smiles at her calmly and tells her he never liked that pair of shoes anyway. Then they start bumping into each other at work. She learns he drinks a prodigious amount of coffee – always black, from the number of times she catches him bent over the vending machine in the pantry. He saves her from the wrath of the printing machine when she forgets to remove the staples from her papers again.

‘We should go out for dinner’, she tells him, because she’s been taught to get out there and chase what she wants (and she rather likes the broadness of his shoulders and the patience in his eyes), and while he’s mildly taken aback, he agrees. She takes him for dumplings in a greasy diner, practically a hole in the wall, and is gratified when he doesn’t seem to mind that she eats almost as much as he. He doesn’t agree to let her pay for him – she tries to insist because she’s the one who asked, after all – but he does agree to split the bill.

He brings her to his favourite bookstore the following week, and they sit in a nook with their respective books and share a pot of tea. She discovers his dry sense of humour through long conversations about any and everything. He admires the contours of her mind when she rambles about work in three languages to him.

Months pass – and by the year’s end, he asks her to move in with him.

They find a flat a few stops from work. It’s small, but he manages to squeeze in a sprawling bookshelf groaning with the weight of his books, and she stuffs it full of knick knacks she stole from her parents’ home. They walk to work and leave for home together.

They spend nights on the couch sharing pots of tea, he - buried in his work, she - immersed in music, and on weekends they explore parks and bookstores and restaurants and museums. They discuss heatedly whether to adopt a cat or dog (she prefers the former, he prefers the latter) and talk about the possibility of buying a house in a year or two.

She begins to think that this could be her forever, and wonders if he feels the same.

‘Are you really dating Akaashi-san?’, Hana-chan from accounting asks curiously over lunch one day.

‘Yes’, she answers with a slight frown. ‘Why?’

‘You two seem so formal with each other’, Hana titters. ‘If he didn’t send you flowers ever Friday, any one watching you both would assume you’re just friends.’

‘Keiji is just reserved’, she defends him heatedly, ‘He’s affectionate enough in private with me.’

Hana laughs at her frown - ‘I’m sure, I’m sure - it’s just strange to find someone so shy about their love in this day and age’.

Hana isn’t wrong per se - she remembers an incident in their early days of dating when she tried to hold his hand and steal a kiss from him, but Keiji avoided her grasp and muttered a firm ‘not in public, dear’. Still, she tells herself she doesn’t mind that, her heart is warm enough from the gentle kisses he presses to her face in the comfort of their little home.

‘Busy, busy Keiji’, she says, a teasing lilt in her tone. ‘It’s time to go home’.

‘I still have work to do tonight’, he frowns down at the page in his hand. ‘I’ll meet you at home?’

‘Sure’, she chirps. ‘I’ll have a cup of tea waiting for you when you get home’.

‘I actually prefer coffee’, he replies, an embarrassed flush on his face. ‘I can’t keep awake with just tea’.

‘You’re going to continue working at home?’ She tilts her head to look at him confusedly, because yes - deadlines are tight in the publishing industry, but Keiji’s just powered through a major submission and is up for a promotion because of it - so it doesn’t make sense that he’s still so busy. ‘Rest is important, Keiji’.

‘I know but I asked for extra assignments - I thought I should challenge myself’.

It’s her turn to frown. ‘Oh’, she says, and her disappointment must be evident in her face because he turns to catch her arm. ‘Work is important, darling. Surely you understand.’ He gives her a slight smile. ‘I promise I’ll make it up to you when all of this ends’. ‘

Alright’, she says, trying to smooth her frown from her face. ‘I shan’t be mad since you promised so nicely’, she jokes half-heartedly and heads off alone.

The flat is cold and empty. She hums to herself to fill the silence as she fixes herself a cup of tea.

‘Working late again?’ she asks.

He’s crouched over his desk in the office, multiple cups of coffee and stacks of paper marked in red strewn everywhere. The smudges beneath his eyes are a darker purple than she remembers, the skin of his hands almost translucent beneath the harsh office light and scarlet ink stains.

‘Mm’, he nods. His eyes do not leave the page.

‘I’ll see you later?’ she offers, and leaves when he offers no reply.

She leans her forehead on the sofa (ignoring how it’s too big for her alone) and plays the songs her mother used to sing until she feels like she’s home.

‘You’re working yourself too hard’, she tells him on another late night.

‘I’ve got work to do’ he responds, blinking owlishly up at her as if he can’t believe she doesn’t understand. She does – really, but it’s raining and she doesn’t want to walk home alone.

‘Work can wait’, she tries again, running her hand along his arm, frowning as he shrugs her off.

‘Not here’, he tells her firmly. ‘Not anywhere’, she can’t help but think to herself.

A car splashes her with rainwater as it drives by. She stands under the scalding hot shower for far too long, telling herself it’s because she’s trying to scrub the dirt marks off her legs (and definitely not because she’s hiding the tears sliding down her face). There’s an ache beneath her ribs that she can’t acknowledge (because if she does, it means the crack in her heart is real), so she sings her favourite songs to herself until she can pretend she’s ok.

‘I’m home’, he calls to her, his voice echoing in the flat.

‘Keiji!’ she bounces into the hallway to greet him, but the thick stack of paper he draws out of his briefcase makes her heart sink. ‘Oh well’, she thinks to herself, and does what she always does when she’s alone - puttering around the kitchen, humming songs with a cheerful melody. But when she fetches him a cup of tea, she notices a furrow in his brow, traces the downward slant of his mouth, hears the harsh tap of his slim fingers against his desk.  

‘Is everything ok?’ She approaches him cautiously, placing her hand on his shoulder. ‘You seem a little tense.’

‘Everything's fine, I just can’t focus when you’re making so much noise’, he says curtly.

‘I’m sorry’, she offers contritely, flinching inwardly at the lines of irritation appearing on his face. ‘But it’s the weekend, Keiji. Surely you can take some time off work?’

‘No, I can't. You wouldn’t understand’, he responds, waving her off dismissively.

‘We haven’t spent much time together in a while. Maybe we can go for dinner tonight?’, she persists, ignoring the pain sharpening in her chest. 

‘I said I can’t, I have work’, he snaps at her, not noticing when she takes an involuntary step back. ‘You obviously don’t understand.’

‘I do understand’, she tells him quietly, because she does - she’s not some flunky working in a dead-end job – for heaven’s sake they’re professionals in the same industry. She wouldn’t be in line for promotion at the end of the year if she weren’t herself adept at managing the stress of impending deadlines and an overwhelming workload - but he does not respond.

So she stays silent. And in the absence of sound, she can hear her heart break.

She has vacation days to spare, so she packs her bags and moves out into her sister’s place.

It’s a little sad how easy it is to avoid Keiji’s notice since he’s never at home. He must notice when she’s gone though because he tries calling her the day after – once, twice, and by the third time she sends a single text – ‘it’s over. Please don’t contact me again’, and promptly blocks his number. But he’s persistent, waiting by her desk with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers when she heads back to work.

‘Talk to me’, he begs, and she suppresses the urge to tell him that she tried, goddamnit - but she’s done, please go away and leave her alone, but his face is drawn and his eyes are bloodshot, and she reminds herself – this is Keiji, the man she fell in love with over plates of dumplings and shared pots of tea, the man she once believed could be her forever, and agrees to meet him for lunch on the weekend.

‘But not now’, she says, unable to resist a parting shot – ‘work is very important to you after all’.

She regrets it immediately when she sees his shoulders stiffen and something in his eyes break.

They arrange to meet at the café in his favourite bookstore. She turns up five minutes early but finds he’s already there waiting. He orders coffee – black, without sugar, and she gets tea with a slice of cake.

‘Come home to me. Please. I miss you’, he blurts out, looking at her with pleading eyes.

‘I can’t do that’, she says, shaking her head because their flat hasn’t felt like home for so long – no, not in the absence of sound, the silence so still she heard her heart break.

‘I can fix this’, he promises desperately. ‘I’ll stop working so hard, I’ll come home for dinner with you - it’ll be just like what we used to do, and we’ll be happy again’.

‘Keiji’, she says, a sad smile on her face. ‘There’s nothing left to fix. Can you honestly promise you won’t end up resenting me - resenting us - when exciting assignments and promotions pass you by, because you feel obliged to split your time between work and me?’

‘I could never resent you’, he tells her brokenly. ‘Never.’

‘Don’t lie to me, Keiji’, she replies tiredly. ‘You and I both know you love your work more than you love me’.

He shakes his head in denial, eyes red and glassy and she stops him with a finger to his trembling lips before she continues, the words bitter in her mouth - 'It’s ok to admit that you fell out of love with me. I should have realised that a long time ago. You deserve to find someone you love more than your work, and I deserve to find someone who’ll put me first’.

At this, he lets out a quiet cry, and she can hear her heart crack open again. But the sad truth is she knows it’s over – has been over ever since she’s allowed her heart to be burnt slowly by his neglect, the ashes building up in her chest.

‘I’m sorry, Keiji’, she turns to leave, a bittersweet smile twisting her lips. ‘It's time to let each other go’.

To his credit, he doesn’t pester her at work, though he sends her flowers every Friday – pink camellias for longing, violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for obvious reasons, and she draws the line when he starts to send her red roses (for love), sending him a strongly worded note to let her go. He finally stops, and she’s relieved when he takes her advice and asks out a girl from the publishing department – a peach blossom girl, thoroughly gentle and sweet and soft spoken. She tells herself she’s happy for him.

Still – there’s a dull ache in her chest when she sees them share an umbrella together when they leave work, a poisoned whisper in her mind wondering why she wasn’t quite enough for him, and an awkwardness when she bumps into either of them - especially that awful time she got stuck in the lift with said peach blossom girl, neither woman quite knowing where to look. It's enough to push her to resign right after she collects her bonus.

She’s always dreamed of joining the diplomatic corps, and luckily, since she’s fluent in Russian, it’s easy enough for her to land a posting with the Japanese embassy in Moscow. So she chops her hair (she hears that’s what break-ups make girls do), packs her bags and gets on a flight to her next adventure.

Moscow is as colourless and dreary as she imagined, so she wouldn’t have thought a quiet shade of brown might catch her eye as it does when the Japanese embassy hosts a party during New Year’s Day and she meets one Yaku Morisuke, a libero playing in the Russian Volleyball Super League, and from what she hears, a vital member of the Japanese National team.

She can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of déjà vu when she bumps into him and spills her drink all over his shoes, but it’s eased when he shoots her a wide grin and tells her not to worry even though it’s his favourite pair of shoes.

‘You can teach me Russian over dinner as payment instead’, he tells her cheekily, and he takes her for Russian dumplings, full of beef and pork and potatoes. ‘It’s a little strange but it’s the closest thing I can find to home’, he says, eyes bright. He lets her pay the bill, but insists she let him pay when they go out again.

‘Are we going out again?’ She teases, and feels her heart skip a beat when he pouts at her with puppy-dog eyes. To no one’s surprise, they meet for a second date, then a third, and their days together soon blends into happy memories of ice skating and dumplings and steaming cups of tea.

‘Why don’t you move in with me’, Yaku asks her matter of factly through a mouthful of rice, at the end of her tirade about her awful landlord who just tried to double her rent in less than a year.

Her mouth opens and closes as she processes the thought and her mind moves into overdrive, worrying she’s moving too fast, falling too fast (the spectre of the trainwreck that was her and Keiji buzzing at the back of her mind) - but then she realises she’s being unfair to him.

Because Yaku - or Mori as she now calls him, is nothing like him. He’s short (though she’d never admit it), whereas Keiji is tall. Quick tempered to Keiji’s calm temperament. But more importantly, he delights in spending time with her even after a long, hard day at work, humming contentedly to the songs she sings, and he never shies away from affection - relishes it, rather, pulling her close with the edges of her woollen scarf to kiss her openly on the street.

‘Come on’, he wheedles. ‘We could even adopt a kitten so you won’t be lonely when I’m away for work’, and he laughs fondly when her face lights up. 

You drive a hard bargain, but alright’, she pretends to grouse, heart in throat, but echoes his laughter when he triumphantly leans over to press his lips to her cheek.

She - with their cat in tow - returns back to Japan when Mori’s drafted to play for the Japanese team in the Olympics.

‘Akaashi!’ she exclaims, spotting a familiar mop of dark hair in the VIP stand. ‘What are you doing here?’

He waves a friendly hello. ‘I never told you I played volleyball in high school?’ he asks and when she shakes her head, he points to a tall man with grey and white streaks in his dark hair. ‘I used to be Bokuto-san’s setter’, he tells her, pride evident in his calm voice.

‘That’s so cool’, she says cheerfully, checking back to the court to see if Mori’s playing yet. Then she glances at him once over, noticing lines under his eyes that weren’t there before. ‘Keiji’, she says, the once familiar name now foreign on her tongue. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m good’, he replies with a small smile. ‘Surviving. Alright, I guess.’

‘Not married yet?’ she asks playfully.

‘No, we broke up’, he tells her plainly, waving away her apologies. ‘And you?’

‘Nope, not married yet’, she says with a distracted smile.

He wonders if he should seize the moment to tell her what he’s wanted to say when their relationship ended in flames (starting with ‘I’m sorry for everything’, and ending with a hopeful ‘maybe we can try again’) but he stops short when she shouts ‘Mori! Mori!’, as a short, brown haired man steps onto the court.

‘You know Yaku?’ Akaashi asks curiously. Nekoma libero, often overlooked but extremely dangerous - he remembers.

‘He’s my boyfriend’, she chirps, eyes glued to the court. ‘Do you know him too?’

‘We used to play each other in school’, he answers faintly, watching her cheer and wave her hands wildly. She’s happy, he thinks, she’s really moved on - and that thought selfishly makes his stomach sink.

‘He’s a good man’, he finally finds himself telling her.

‘The best’, she agrees, the sparkle in her eyes so bright he’s forced to look away.

He thinks he must be a masochist when he watches her throw herself headfirst into Yaku’s arms at the end of the match, the regretful ‘what ifs’ and ‘that could’ve been me’ thundering in his ears. Still, he knows she deserves someone who’ll always put her first, and with that thought ringing in his mind, he waits until she’s distracted with Bokuto-san’s antics before he steps forward, hand outstretched to Yaku.

‘Take care of her’, Akaashi says with a bittersweet smile. ‘You’re a lucky man’.

Yaku gives him an assessing look. ‘Always’, he promises firmly, taking his hand.

She returns home first, and he follows a few weeks later, after a whirlwind of awards and press interviews.

He breaks into a run when he sees her, swinging her into his arms at the arrival gate, and when they get home she cooks dumplings for him. ‘In case you miss home already’, she tells him teasingly, but flushes when he answers ‘but with you, I am home’, and blushes bright red when he carries her off to bed.

‘I want this to be my forever’, Mori tells her as he lays his head in her lap.

‘So do I’, she replies, her heart humming quietly, finally in safe hands. ‘So do I’.

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fic rec #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #akaashi keiji #akaashi imagine #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi headcanons #akaashi angst #yaku morisuke

[kurokoros]

games | kenma (kinktober day 4)

Rated: M

Words: 4.1K

Pairing: kenma x fem!reader

Summary: Kenma has been working all day. You decide it’s time for a break.

AN: I was supposed to post the kuroo tentacle fic today, but it’s not done, so I’m posting this one instead. @kozumebri requested Kenma with day 25, so here we are!

Kinktober 2020 Day 25: Cock Warming + 27: Toys + 28: Pet Play

Warnings: smut, cock warming, pet play (the word “master” is used once in dialogue), toys, unprotected sex, overstimulation

X

As much as you love Kozume Kenma, sometimes you really hate his love of video games.

A pout forms on your lips as you stand in the doorway of his office. Leaning against the wall, you watch him edit another video for his channel. You aren’t sure what game it is now, but he’s been working for hours, and you’ve had just about enough.

It’s not abnormal for you to get bored while he works, and, while you’d normally be content to curl up on his lap and cuddle, lately you’ve been missing him in other ways.

Huffing quietly, you prop your hands on your hips. There’s nothing but smooth skin and lace under your fingertips. You look down at yourself one more time, making sure everything is perfect as you straighten your headband. A giddy smile makes its way onto your face as you touch something soft, excitement bubbling up in your chest. You and Kenma have discussed doing this before, but you just never found the right time between college, work, and all of your other responsibilities. A surprise might just be what both of you need right now

If this doesn’t catch Kenma’s attention, you aren’t sure what you’ll do.

He doesn’t notice you right away as you enter the room, his gaze still focused on the computer screen, his brows furrowed in thought. Your lips curl into a grin. Perfect. It isn’t often that you manage to catch Kenma off guard.

“Kenma,” you purr, practically skipping across the room.

The whiny tone of your voice must pick up over the audio he’s listening to, because he glances at you briefly in acknowledgment, but goes right back to editing. It takes a second before he goes rigid in his chair. The ever-present mask of boredom he wears crumbles away as he does a double-take. Kenma’s eyes widen. His mouth drops open. An audible sound of surprise escapes him as he takes in your lack of clothing, and a deep blush creeps up his neck as his gaze travels all the way to the fluffy cat ears sitting on top of your head.

It’s always been easy to fluster Kenma, and plopping down on his lap half-naked and mewling his name gets you exactly what you want. A choking sound sticks in the back of his throat, and Kenma barely stutters out a garbled version of your name as your arms wrap around him. For a second, he’s stiff beneath you, unsure what to do as you nuzzle against the curve of his neck and shoulder, but his hands quickly find a place on your hips after he takes off his headphones. Nimble fingers brush against bare skin as he relaxes beneath you. His breath stirs your hair as he sighs.

Your lips ghost across the side of his neck, and you press a kiss just above the collar of his sweatshirt.

Kenma shivers, gripping you tighter, and your lips curl with mischief. You can feel the heat radiating off of his flushed skin, and you practically purr when his tentative hands squeeze your hips.

As you kiss the side of his throat again, Kenma wets his lips, a quiet sound leaving him. “What are you doing?” he mumbles, gaze darting between the computer and the cat ears tickling his nose. Slowly, his fingertips glide across your back, unintentionally making you squirm as he reaches for your headband. His other hand rubs circles against your hip, and you nip at him as he tugs on one of the fluffy ears.

“Seducing you,” you tell him plainly, pressing another kiss to the side of his throat.

He stops playing with the tip of one ear. “Oh.”

Pulling away from his neck, you lean your head against his shoulder and blink up at him coyly. “Is it working?” The teasing tone of your voice makes him blush harder, and you giggle as his hair falls around his face bashfully. Even after all the times you’ve done this, he still gets shy sometimes. Giggling, you sit up and press a soft, sweet kiss against his cheek. “You’re so cute, Kenma.”

Huffing, he rolls his eyes, but you can feel his lips twitch, a smile threatening to reveal itself. Kenma releases the ear attached to your headband, both of his hands falling back to your hips. He squeezes fondly, thumbs sweeping across your skin. The tip of one finger traces the edge of your panties, soft, white lace perfectly matching the ears on your head.

You curl closer to his chest. A sigh escapes you as his hands squeeze your hips, less tentative than before. Voice taking on a whiny note, you prop your chin against his shoulder and pout. “You’ve been so busy all day.” Your palms slide up his chest teasingly before you wrap your arms around his neck. “You haven’t even taken a break in hours.” A shuddering breath fans across your lips as you lean in. “Come play with me?”

Groaning, Kenma lets you pull him down to meet you. Your fingers lock behind his neck, your palms cradling his jaw as you press your lips against his. Kenma is pliant beneath you, his hands on your hips and back as your mouth moves against his slowly, coaxing him to play. A quiet sound leaves the back of his throat as your tongue slides against his bottom lip, and Kenma nearly sighs as you suck his lip into your mouth, tugging with your teeth.

The hands on your hips pull you closer, dragging you against his lap. You grin as you settle over the bulge growing beneath his sweatpants. Warmth curls through your limbs and pools in your belly. Kenma’s touches grow firmer, less hesitant as he strokes your back, his lips moving with yours, addicted to the taste.

Your lips leave his with a wet sound, and you roll your hips against his as your mouth moves to his jaw, kissing and nipping your way across his skin while he sighs. Kenma’s eyes flutter shut as his head falls back against his chair. You pull your hands from his neck, fisting them in the front of his sweatshirt instead. Taking the opportunity, you drag your teeth across his jaw before moving your mouth to the side of his throat. His breath hitches. His pulse jumps beneath your lips.

Kenma’s fingers dig into your hips harder, a barely audible moan slipping from his mouth as you kiss your way down his neck, nibbling and sucking at every inch of his smooth skin, intent on leaving little marks behind. Nothing he can’t hide, of course, though you can’t deny the possessive thrill as you imagine thousands of his subscribers seeing the hickeys.

With that in mind, you bite down just a little harder. Beneath you, his bulge presses against your inner thigh as your teeth scrape across his skin. The heat of your breath on his neck goes right to his cock, his sweatpants a thin barrier between you. A faint, red mark and the outline of teeth linger as you stop sucking a bruise onto his neck, and you nip at him one last time, kitten-licks soothing the sting as you roll your hips against his, grinding down in search of sweet friction.

Above you, he makes another beautiful, breathy sound, and you disentangle your fingers from the soft fabric of his shirt, hands moving lower on his torso. Distracted by your lips and tongue, Kenma doesn’t notice you moving until your sneaky fingers are loosening the drawstring of his pants. By now, his work is long forgotten, editing shoved to the back of his mind as your hand slips beneath his clothes.

“Ah,” Kenma gasps as your fingers wrap around his cock. Your touch is teasingly light as you stroke him, your thumb rolling over the tip to smear the pre-cum beading there. Another broken version of your name falls from his mouth, and your lips curl into a smile against his throat. You shift your grip on him, nibbling on his collarbone as his hips rock against your hand, shallowly thrusting against your loose fist.

Your grip tightens around him, and a quiet moan falls from Kenma’s mouth. Fingers bite into your hips.

Kenma’s phone goes off on the desk behind you. Groaning, you drop your forehead against his shoulder. He shivers as your cat ears brush against his neck again, more sensitive than before. Peeking up at him, you silently beg him to ignore it, but he sighs. He looks just as dejected as you feel when he pries one of his hands off your hips and reaches for his phone when the alarm keeps blaring.  

Without having to look, you know exactly what it is. A reminder of the deadline he set to have his videos finished editing by midnight.

It’s ridiculous and petty to glare at his phone as he silences the alarm, but you can’t help the frustrated pout that forms on your lips. You’re quick to turn that pout on Kenma, and for just a second you think he might cave under your pleading stare. For extra incentive, you stroke his cock again, gripping just the way he likes it.

His breath hitches. Kenma wets his lips, glancing at you, and then the reminder on his phone. It would be so easy to ignore the little notification and fall into you, but if he doesn’t finish this first, he’ll have Kuroo on his case. “I need to finish these,” he tells you reluctantly. Despite that, he does nothing to stop your naughty fingers from teasing him.

Your thumb rolls over his tip again, and you change the angle of your wrist just the slightest. The moan that leaves him is your reward. “I,” you stress, shifting your hips against his, “think it’s time for you to take a break.” Your breath fans over his face as you say it, your lips back on his jaw. “You’ve been working all day.”

He narrows his eyes, weighing his options as you kiss your way across his jaw. “One hour,” he says. “I really need to finish this.”

Sighing, you pull your hand from his pants and stop the slow path of your lips. You lean back against his thighs, putting just enough space between you to send him a serious look. “Promise?” you ask, waiting until he nods to relax. “Fine.” You move to slip off his lap and find something else to occupy your time with, but stop when he grabs your hips again, refusing to let you move. “Kenma?”

When you look at him again, his gaze is averted. Long strands of hair fall over his eyes as he ducks his chin towards his chest. You wait patiently as he fiddles with the lace on your panties, you head cocked to the side in confusion. He glances at you through his bangs, cheeks a little pink. “Stay?” he mumbles. Gold eyes flicker back to your head, those damn cat ears drawing his attention again. He just can’t seem to tear his eyes away from them for long.

Kenma meets your eyes, his gaze sharp with catlike focus you only see when he’s gaming or in bed with you. “Stay,” he says again, a little louder, a little firmer. You squeeze your thighs together, the command making your breath catch. Ever the observant one, Kenma notices right away. Again, he looks at the cat ears. Swallowing, Kenma wets his lips. “Come here, kitty.”

Coaxing hands urge you to rise off of his lap so your weight rests on your knees. In a bold move, he leans in to kiss you first this time. One of his hands slides away from your hips, and you shiver when his hand drops onto his lap. Kenma shoves down his sweatpants and underwear, his hard cock bopping against his stomach.

What he wants clicks, and arousal rushes through you as he hooks a finger around your panties and moves them aside.

“What a needy kitty, bothering me while I’m working,” Kenma murmurs. His thumb traces your slit, feeling how wet you are already. His cock presses against your pussy, and you roll your hips against him slowly, coating him in your arousal.

Both of you shudder when Kenma gentle guides you down onto his cock, and a sigh falls from your mouth at the familiar feeling of his cock rubbing against your walls. Before you can rock against him or move, Kenma’s hands are back on your hips, holding you still. “Don’t move,” he tells you, already reaching for his headphones. You try not to squirm, not used to having something so still inside you. As you settle into his lap and press your cheek to his shoulder, Kenma leans down enough for his breath to tickle your ear. “Behave.”

X

You’re content to lounge on Kenma’s lap like an overgrown housecat for nearly half an hour before growing impatient.

At one point, he passes you his phone, and you mindlessly play one of the mobile games he downloaded recently. You curl into his chest, arms hanging over his shoulders loosely. The low hum of the video he’s editing is muffled by his headphones, but you can barely make out the sounds of music and, beneath that, the amused tone of his voice as Kenma clicks away at the computer behind you. The two of you are perfectly still aside from your occasional shifting and the hand that drifts to the back of your neck every few minutes. Kenma’s thumb brushes against your nape soothingly, and you try not to think about his cock buried deep inside you or the way your clit grinds against him perfectly with every subtle shift of his hips against yours.

You’re almost positive he’s doing it on purpose, but it’s hard to tell with Kenma. Sometimes, you think you see a small, satisfied smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, but it’s gone as soon as you look closer.

It only makes you wetter, knowing that he might be toying with you. He might not hold you down and outright deny you, but he has ways of making you squirm and beg for him. The hour isn’t up yet, but you can hardly focus on the phone in your hand anymore, painfully aware of his cock rubbing against your sweet spot and the way your arousal is leaking around him.

You lose whatever game you’re playing and close his phone, stuffing it in the pocket of his hoody.

“Kenma,” you whine, nuzzling against his shoulder. The cute, fluffy cat ears resting on top of your head tickle at his chin. You know he can hear you despite his headphones. When he doesn’t turn away from the video he’s editing, you pout, squirming against his lap to get his attention. Still, he stubbornly refuses to look at you. This time, the fingers that have been stroking the back of your neck fall still. And then, his touch leaves you entirely, his arm resting against the arm of his desk chair, just inches away. Huffing, you grind yourself against his lap.

That gets his attention.

A surprised sound sticks in the back of his throat, barely loud enough for you to hear. Gold eyes flicker in your direction for half a second, before quickly snapping back to the screen. You hide a grin against his sweatshirt as the pale skin of his neck flushes red again. His cock throbs inside you.

You squeeze around him purposely, blinking innocently when he levels you with an annoyed look. He’s just about to turn back to his video when you do it again, your hips rolling forward teasingly to make him focus on you.

The slight friction of his cock rubbing against your walls makes you shiver. You’re hyperaware of every move after sitting still for so long, and you know he must be too. As disinterested as Kenma likes to pretend he is, there’s no hiding just how sensitive he really is. And that’s something you take full advantage of.

Careful to keep your shifting to a minimum, you give Kenma no indication of what you’re about to do. His eyes are on you, scrutinizing you, attentive to every twitch of your fingers and your hot breath on the side of his neck. It clicks when he feels you rise an inch off his cock, but he isn’t fast enough to stop you from sinking back down, your warm, wet walls squeezing around him perfectly.

Your eyes snap up when Kenma murmurs your name, low and breathy. By now, he’s stopped working, his attention solely on you. There’s a glint in his eyes that you know means trouble, and the anticipation of what he might do has heat flooring your stomach.

His expression doesn’t change as he says, “You’re being a brat.” The bluntness of his statement makes your eyes widen, but you don’t deny it. Very rarely does Kenma talk like this, but when he does—you bite your lip to keep from making a sound. Your thighs tense around him, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Do you want attention that bad, kitty?” By now, his headphones are down around his neck. His hands are back on your hips, grip firm yet gentle.

“You know what I want.” The way you grind down against him is anything but subtle.

Kenma’s breathing hitches. The tips of his fingers dig into your sides as he holds you a little bit tighter, stopping you from doing it again. “I thought you were going to sit still until I was done?”

Unable to help the smirk that appears on your face, you press your mouth against his shoulder again. Your voice is muffled as you speak. “Will you give me a treat if I do, master?” The name is tacked on cheekily, your eyes alight with mischief as you lean further into the kink.

A sharp inhale is his immediate response. Kenma looks at you with wide eyes that flicker back to the cat ears on your head. Even while he was working, he wasn’t able to keep his eyes off of them for long. The long fur just seemed to brush teasingly over his skin at exactly the right time, refusing to stray from his thoughts for more than a few minutes at a time.

And that name definitely doesn’t help. You and Kenma haven’t experimented much with dominance; neither of you ever cared to, but something about the way the word master rolls off your tongue makes his thoughts come to an abrupt halt. The heat that bursts in his chest is white-hot and all consuming, and Kenma swallows thickly.

“You are so…” he trails off, shaking his head. His eyebrows furrow, and you blink up at him innocently, still carefully hiding your smile. Though, what he says next is surprising enough to wipe that grin away. “Fine.” He leans forward suddenly, reaching around you to yank open one of the drawers in his desk. The new angle forces his cock deeper inside you, and you bite your lip to smother a breathy whine of his name. “You want a treat, kitty?”

When he sits up again, there’s a small object dangling from his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to recognize what it is, and when you do your cunt clenches around him.

Kenma holds the small, red vibrator in front of you nonchalantly, sharp gaze focused on the subtle shift in your expression as you stare. Pupils blown wide with lust. Lips parted in anticipation. You’re so close that he can feel the way your breath catches in your throat.

Slowly enough that you could stop him if you wanted to, Kenma moves the toy closer to you, his hand dipping between both your bodies. Your eyes dart back to his as soon as it disappears from your view, and you could swear there’s something in his gaze that you’ve never seen before. Molten gold turned greedy. His stare is nothing short of hypnotic, almost dangerous as they draw you in.

You wonder if you’ve baited him too much, but the thought is abruptly ripped away when Kenma switches the vibrator on and presses it against your clit.

You lurch forward with a squeal as soon as the vibrations buzz against your sensitive nerve endings. Like before, your walls clamp down on Kenma’s cock, your hips grinding down against his as he presses the toy even closer, swirling the tip to mimic the movement of his hands. “Kenma,” is all you manage to choke out, his name slipping from your mouth again as your fingers bite into his arms. Your head falls forward against his shoulder. Tears well in your eyes at the sudden stimulation.

Without saying a word, Kenma holds the vibrator against you, letting you squirm and twitch as he rubs the toy against your swollen clit. Each slow circle has you clenching tighter around him, and your hips grind down against his in a slow, stuttering rhythm that goes right to his cock. His breathing grows heavier with every mewl of his name that falls from your pretty mouth. His free hand tightens around your hip, pulling you even closer.

You’re panting as you roll against him, whimpering and gasping against the side of his neck, barely audible over the sound of the vibrator caught between you. The toy presses against you perfectly, seeming to suck at your swollen clit, and you can’t help the way you clench down around him.

With your arousal coiled into a tight little ball already, it doesn’t take much for Kenma to turn you into an absolute mess in his lap. You’re slick and tight around him, both sensitive from the way you’ve been wrapped around him for nearly an hour now. His work is long forgotten, all of his attention turned to you and the way you’re so close to falling apart.

The vibrator presses even closer. The lazy circles he was drawing against you become more precise. Faster. Tighter. Kenma watches you through half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily as he helps you grind against his lap, letting you set the pace. He drinks in the sight of you like this, clutching at his shoulders and whimpering his name, gasped pleas falling from your mouth as he plays with your clit. You keep getting tighter around him, and his dick twitches inside you.

“Kenma,” you whine as he moans against your ear. A shudder tears through you as he angles the vibrator just right and holds it there. It’s too much. The vibrations. The slow grind of his cock inside you. His hot breath against your ear. The soft sounds he makes as your walls flutter around him.

Kenma cums first. Your walls are tight around him, so warm and wet, and the rhythmic clenching of your pussy feels too good. He grits his teeth, cock twitching inside of you one more time. Hot, thick fluid fills you up as he cums inside of you, and his release triggers your own. You spasm in his lap as your orgasm crashes through you, face buried against his shoulder to muffle your moans. Kenma groans at the way you clench around him, milking him.

Panting, you fall limp against him and nuzzle against the side of his neck, unable to catch your breath with the vibrator still snug against you. You whine. Your thighs twitch around him, tears welling in your eyes as it becomes too much.

Kenma, he doesn’t turn off the toy. The steady vibrations against your swollen clit continue, overstimulating you. You shift on his lap, his cock still half-hard inside you, and shiver as you feel his cum start to leak out around him. If Kenma notices the mess you’re making in his lap, he doesn’t seem to care.

“Ah, Kenma,” you whimper, trying to squirm away from the overwhelming pleasure. He doesn’t let you. Kenma’s grip is gentle, but firm, and he rolls his chair closer to the desk, keeping you trapped between the furniture and his chest. “I can’t—” A broken moan cuts you off.

Kenma slides his headphones back on, expression slipping into one of indifference as he glances down at you, still shuddering against the onslaught of stimulation against your sensitive clit. “I thought you wanted attention, kitty?” he murmurs plainly, careful to hide his smile as he turns back to the video he was editing before you interrupted him. “Why don’t you stay there until I’m done.”

#kenma x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyuu!! #hq

[pinkoptics]

AU-gust 2021 Prompts

4. Dancing

(Soooo it’s almost October… but that’s okay, right?)

Who wants some Dadneto feels? Who wants pining Erik?

If you do you’ve come to the right place!

Charles is nanny to Wanda and Peter, who’ve lost their mother, Magda. Erik is living a half life as an overworked single father, feeling the loss of his wife. Charles brings them back to life. This is the moment Erik realizes he’s desperately in love with Charles.

This exists in the Nanny Fic verse, but stands alone as a sort of prequel. You don’t have to have read Nanny Fic for this to work.

~2300 words

*

Erik knew the exact moment his heart had gone into free fall. One second in time when everything had crystallized, when notions and feelings that had been vague or easily ignored all shifted into place and could no longer be so easily denied.

Everything had been hard for so long, work especially, or completely, as work was virtually all he did. His entire existence boiled down to a desk, in an open space office, downtown. He got to work early, always early, trying to eek out the extra time needed to get caught up, even though he never quite succeeded in doing so. The day was spent in a haze of stress and tension, trying to meet unmeetable deadlines, and failing. He, and the rest of the team, would get scolded like school-children, belittled, until all the metal in the office vibrated imperceptibly. Imperceptibly because he needed this job— the stable pay, the incredible benefits, the mutant friendly culture. In the end, they all stayed late, too often, too late, to make up for the aforementioned deadlines. Overtime? Never. It was their fault, their incompetence, after all.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

It was no way for anyone to live, because it wasn’t a life. It was an existence, maybe, barely, but not a life.

Wander and Peter deserved so much more.

Every day he missed his kids. It was an ache like a stone in his shoe, but lodged instead in his heart, and he could see no way to remove it. Quitting, finding something else, it wasn’t an option, not in this economy. So the ache was always there. Always always always. When he finally did get home, he was tired. So fucking tired. He tried. He really did. He rallied as best he could for them but, at best, they got half of him because he was living a half life. Worn down, worn out, nothing left.

They had already lost one parent.

Magda.

Forever.

They barely had half of the other.

At least they had Charles.

Thank god for Charles.

His gratitude for the man and everything he did for him, for the twins, was staggering.

He shouldn’t have been able to afford a full day nanny/tutor after the education system had shut their doors on two young, volatile, mutants who couldn’t control their powers. Charles had swept in and hadn’t balked, like every applicant before him, at what Erik could pay. It was such a non-issue, Erik hadn’t looked a gift horse in the mouth, and had hired Charles on the spot.

Every day since, he had left them in Charles’ capable hands and, every day since, he had come home to bright smiles and happiness, to little people bursting with the need to tell him what adventures they’d gone on that day. There was joy, laughter and stability in the Lehnsherr household again. How could he be anything other than staggeringly grateful?

That’s all it was, gratitude, or so he told himself, until he couldn’t any longer.

When he ran his powers over his watch that lightning-strike evening, he was getting home around what should have been the tail end of dinner time. Charles stayed when needed, Charles cooked, even though contractually he was obligated to do neither. Erik paid him overtime, of course, but each day the clock ticked past 5:00 he half-panicked that when he finally made it through the door, Charles would throw his hands up and say ‘enough is enough,’ balking at yet another 12 hour day and justifiably disappearing from their lives forever.

Erik thought they would be seated at the table, finishing up— once again finding himself missing dinner, missing that precious time where he could talk to them, share a meal, share their day. If it had been a bit earlier, if he’d been on time, he usually found them finishing up their studies. Though he’d seen both many times already, he never failed to boggle at his kids sitting politely to dinner, or engrossed in whatever lesson Charles was offering that day. His kids — Peter especially — sitting. Engrossed. Learning. Sitting. They’d come farther, faster, under Charles’ care, than they had in an entire year at school. He was a miracle worker.

Today, however, he saw neither. They weren’t eating dinner, as expected, or even watching TV, as they did if he was particularly late. They were…

Dancing.

Well, Wanda and Charles were dancing, Peter was moving around the room erratically, random bursts of his incredible speed, that sort of resembled dancing, if you squinted. The control was itself incredible and something he never could have dreamed of before Charles. It was also incongruous because the music was— a waltz? Or, something like it. Erik wasn’t particularly versed in ballroom music.

Wanda and Charles, unlike Peter, were dancing in time to the music, in the proper way. Wanda was perched atop Charles’ feet in the manner small children sometimes did. She was smiling up at Charles with bright eyes, and Charles was smiling back with just as much warmth. The reddish glow that signified the use of her powers was escaping from her hands, though she didn’t seem to be using those powers in any way he could discern. She just seemed… happy.

“1, 2, 3, 4. Yes, just like that Wanda, you’re doing splendidly!”

Her smile got wider.

They turned about the cleared out living space and he came into Wanda’s line of sight. “Papa!” She leapt out of Charles’ grasp and surged toward him, tackling his long legs hard enough to knock him back a step. “I’m learning how to be a Princess, a real princess! Like they have where Charles is from!”

Peter stopped just short in front of him, after another burst of extreme speed, startling him back another step. Erik wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it. “I’m the court jester!” he announced, proudly.

Erik laughed, “Of course you are.” The warmth of their happiness began to chase away the weariness, the cold ache ever present in his chest, and replaced it with something else.

“We had a tea party!” Wanda went on and gestured to the kitchen table, where the remains of little tea sandwiches, cakes and biscuits were strewn about, along with a teapot Erik didn’t recall owning. “It was so fancy!”

Peter speeded to the table, knocking into it, and nearly upended the contents. He picked up a tea cup. “We held it like this! It was so silly.” He held out his pinky finger in that cliched way.

“Watch me dance!” Wanda all but plowed back into Charles, who winced as she stepped back onto his feet with just a bit too much force. He bore it in stride and picked back up where they had left off. “Do you see, Papa? Do you see? I’m dancing just like a princess.”

Erik reached out and stroked her hair as they passed. “Du bist eine Prinzessin, Bärchen.”

Peter began “dancing” erratically again. “I didn’t want to be a prince.” He crinkled his nose in distaste between bursts of speed. “Jesters are way cooler than stinky princes.”

Wanda did not respond but held her head higher, more haughtily.

Erik felt suddenly, wildly, close to tears.

As they made another pass, Wanda gasped and released Charles, lunging at Erik again. “Papa! You and Charles can be the King and Qu—” Her face screwed up in momentary confusion. “—King. We can have two Kings, right?”

“Of course. Whatever you want.”

With that settled, she went on. “Then, the kings should dance too!”

Erik’s eyes immediately flew up to Charles’, who looked just as taken aback by the sudden suggestion as he.

“Oh Bärchen, I don’t think—”

“Papa, the kings have to dance too!” It was a statement of inarguable fact. The sky is blue, the sun shines every day, the kings must dance. Peter stopped to nod his agreement.

Erik sidestepped. “The king could dance with his princess.”

That earned him 5-year-old exasperation. “Why don’t you want to dance with Charles? That’s silly. He can teach you. C’mon Papa!” She physically nudged him in Charles’ direction. Catching Charles’ gaze, he shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “It appears Princess Wanda has spoken.”

Charles’ face was alight with amusement. “Yes, it does appear that way.” He straightened his shoulders and extended his hand. “May I have this dance, sire?”

That hand was warm, when Erik placed his own on it, and soft. When those same hands settled on Erik’s upper back and waist, the heat seeped through the thinness of his dress shirt. He hadn’t been this close to anyone, hadn’t been touched, not since… All at once he wanted both more and less, to fall forward and pull back.

Charles was no less beautiful this close up— blue eyes still sparkling with amusement, a quirk to his very red mouth projecting the same emotion, a loch of his unwieldy hair falling playfully across his forehead, a sprinkle of barely there freckles across his nose. There should have been flaws. With their nearness, Erik should have been able to pick them out, but he couldn’t find a single one.

“Papa!” Wanda jolted him back to the room. “You’re not dancing!”

So they weren’t. Feeling very caught out, warmth rose to his cheeks. Blushing? Was he blushing? Erik didn’t blush.

“Have you waltzed before?”

“No.”

“Like this.”

Charles was gentle. He lead with authority, but

somehow managed to be gentle at the same time. It seemed to sum up everything he had learned about the man, watching him nurture his children back to life. After a few awkward steps and bumping knees, Charles’ lead was easy to follow and Erik found himself gliding across the floor in no time at all.

“You have a natural grace,” Charles murmured, as they turned about the room.

“Hardly. You’re an excellent teacher.”

“No.” The word was said with surprising firmness. “You’re very fluid, you feel the music. Musicality like that cannot be taught. Not easily. Certainly not this quickly.”

Something burned in Erik’s chest at the words, at the sincerity behind them. The feeling took a moment to recognize, but it was pride. When was the last time he’d felt proud about anything he’d done? The warmth spread, trickling outward from his chest, from where Charles’ hands were still pressing against him. Could he feel it too, through the small, open space between their bodies? He felt like he could.

Around them the kids danced too— Peter in his manic way, Wanda with an invisible partner.

He wanted to drop his forehead to Charles’, wanted to disappear in his warmth, his kindness, his care. Experiencing this small taste of it, he suddenly, desperately, wanted more— wanted to be the object of the same support, encouragement and comfort his children received. A nanny no longer, but a father to his children, a partner to him. All at once, he could see it so clearly, what it would be like if Charles didn’t leave at the end of each day. If he stayed, if they were…

Oh god.

To not be alone in this.

He couldn’t think the word.

To be whole.

He shouldn’t think the word.

To be a… family.

In that moment, he wanted it so badly he could scarcely breathe. He was gripping Charles too tightly now. He knew he was. But, he couldn’t stop. It said everything he couldn’t and absolutely shouldn’t— please don’t go, please stay, please be here with us.

We love you.

I love you.

The clarity of it was striking. You’re Charles. I’m Erik. I love you. Please stay. Now. Always.

Striking, real, clear, but terrifying.

He let go. Too fast.

“Are you all right?” The concern on Charles’ face deepened the ache that had taken hold with such fierceness in his chest.

He wasn’t. He hadn’t been. Not for a long time. But, for an awful moment, he thought that he could be. With Charles, he could be. “Fine,” he ground out, unused to losing his composure so completely. “I’m fine just… tired. It’s late, isn’t it? I’m sure you want to be getting home.”

Was that…? No. He was projecting. Surely, he had not seen a fleeting burst of disappointment in Charles’ features. The man was nodding. The children were protesting.

“You know I’ll be back tomorrow.” Charles chided as he bundled them into a group hug which Erik had to restrain himself from joining.

“Can we play princesses—”

“And jesters!”

“—again tomorrow?”

“Of course, your highness.” Charles stood and gave them both a bow. Wanda giggled and curtsied in return. Peter bounced. “Until tomorrow then.” His gaze flicked from the children to Erik. “Have a good night, King Erik.”

Erik swallowed. It was painful. “And you, King Charles.”

When he was gone, Erik was half nibbling, half tidying the remains of the tea party, trying to ignore the prickling behind his eyes, trying to dispel every last feeling Charles had provoked, trying to banish every last thought and box up every last ridiculous hope. Wanda sat at the table watching him. She did so with eerie quietness for awhile. So lost in his own thoughts, he startled when she finally broke the silence.

“I like Charles, Papa. Do you like Charles?”

The way she looked at him, boring into his soul and past his defences in a way entirely too reminiscent of her mother, he knew the answer was in someway important, someway meaningful.

“I— yes, Bärchen, I like Charles.”

She nodded and having apparently received the desired response, she hopped off her chair and went to pester her twin.

Somehow he knew the word they had both meant wasn’t like, but love. A word neither of them dared say aloud. The people you loved, especially when you loved them most… they didn’t always stay. They could be taken and it hurt in a way you could never fully heal from. Maybe if you held back, maybe if you didn’t give it all, maybe they wouldn’t go.

Erik gave up on his tidying and slumped into one of the kitchen chairs.

He couldn’t be with Charles.

Could he?

*

If this has perked your interest in the original fic here is the link to Nanny Fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12898845/chapters/29467485

8 chapters. Unfinished. Not abandoned.

#cherik #dadneto #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #cherik fanfic #pinkoptics fic #augustwritingchallenge

[copias-thrall]

Would it be alright to request some Papa IV x f!Reader? Like the reader is a very kind and sweet person and she has always supported Copia kind of thing? Maybe they’re having a whole day to themselves to celebrate?

Yes! Let’s get some more sweet Copia 😊 

They made fun of him and called him The Rat.

Terzo made him the butt of all his pranks.

Nihil undermined him at every turn.

Imperator pushed him to the point of breaking.

What you saw a man trying to do his best with his only flaw being an outsider within the Abbey walls, and in a place where actual hellbeasts were basically demon cats, were rats such an odd choice of pet?

You were fairly certain Copia knew the “Squeak if u like cheze” sign was taped to his back, but he just walked down the corridors anyway and let the Siblings and Ghouls chitter at him. You’d seen this man save one of the Abbey mice from a glue trap, and your heart just couldn’t let it continue.

So, you’d approached him and offered to remove the offending paper.

Copia, however, had just smiled at you.

“It is good of you to say, Sister. But let them have their fun, eh?”

He’d given you a slight bow and had gone on his merry way.

After that, however, Copia had warmed to you, often seeking you out so he could sit with you in the mess hall at mealtimes or chat theology with you on lazy Saturday afternoons.

When some of Terzo’s faction had started stuttering to make fun of Copia’s shyness with public speaking, you’d tried to shut them down. Not everyone was good in front of a crowd—especially when that crowd was hostile. All that did, however, was get them to double down and start calling you, "rat lover."

“Doesn’t it bother you, Cardinal?" you'd asked during one of your food dates. "It’s so…petty.”

But he’d just given you a fond look.

“It is of no consequence, dear Sister. Let them be thinking what they will.”

You’d learned all of his rats’ names and started smuggling them contraband from the kitchens.

Copia had you transferred from Imperator’s admin pool to work as his assistant.

“All this new paperwork!” He’s swept his arm across the stacks of his desk. “I thought I could be using a little help from a friend, yes?”

You’d inherently understood you weren’t there to file paperwork—you were there to tell him when to take a break, to replace his cold coffee, and to be a sounding board.

And you didn’t miss the way Copia’s mismatched eyes would look on you with adoration.

Well, you thought he was pretty neat, too.

When he’d been away on his first tour, you’d done your best to keep up with him. You had your other duties and your friends, but you tried to send him a supportive word before, during, and after each performance.

His missives back had grown fewer as the tour had dragged on, but each one had been effusive—if riddled with typos.

After the first tour, things had been different. Copia had come back from the road a glowing success…and in a tight suit that showed off his assets instead of his smothering cassock.

The tide turned, and while there were still his many detractors, gone were the days of “kick me” signs and farces.

You’d noticed a significant pay increase and an extra day off.

“But Cardinal! You need me here!” you’d protested.

He’d simply grabbed your hands and kissed each one.

“I do. And that is why you must be well-rested. Lots to get done. Now, shoo!”

And truth be told, the two of you had worked harder. Copia had spent less and less time in his study and more time attending meetings or at band practice or at weekend symposiums. You’d done your best on keeping his mountain of paperwork down to a molehill, but sometimes the two of you needed to work late into the night to meet seemingly arbitrary deadlines while you put your foot down and told the kitchen Ghoul that making some rigatoni past hours wasn’t going to kill them.

Of course, then you needed to put your foot down about Copia stopping long enough to eat the carbonara. Sometimes he’d growl at you, and you’d have to snap your fingers at him and tell him being hangry wasn’t a good excuse to be snippy with you; he was predictably contrite after he’d consumed a good portion, and you took his apologies as your due.

All of which is to say: you had Copia’s back from the get-go, and he knew you were always in his corner.

When he comes back from Mexico newly ascended, there are dozens of Siblings who want a piece of him. Some—like you—have been in his fan club since day 1; others jumped on the bandwagon during the final tour; while a few just see the razzle dazzle and want to shine too.

You’re in his study because you want to make sure everything is caught up before he comes back to work. You imagine that he’s going to spend a few days reaping the rewards of his promotion, and—while a part of you feels a little let down about not being a part of that particular party—you are genuinely invested in Copia succeeding.

So when the door bangs open, you’re startled to find Copia…er…Papa Emeritus the 4th striding into the room.

“Oh! Your Dark Excellency! I was just making sure—”

“How did I be knowing I would find you here, eh? Today is not a day to be working!”

“But you—”

He makes a shushing noise and reaches his hands out. They linger in the air between the both of you until he makes a “come here” motion with his fingers.

Tentatively, you curl your fingers into his gloved ones.

“We are taking the day off, yes?”

“W-we?”

Copia raises an eyebrow at you. “Sí. With who else should I be celebrating?”

You blush, pleased that he seems genuinely baffled.

The March air is living up to its reputation, so Copia leads you to one of the sunniest rooms in the Abbey. There, you find a picnic blanket set up with a picturesque spread of food, and Rain helping Mountain to position a bevy of potted plants around the area.

Copia clucks at them good-naturedly to leave. Rain gives you the thumbs up and Mountain just pats you on the head as they leave. (As Copia’s Girl Friday, you’ve had to backmanage his ghoulies as much as you’ve had to organize his report piles.)

When he gestures for you to sit, you arrange yourself comfortably in a big square of sun that’s streaming in from the windows. As you take in the meats, cheeses, sandwiches, and fruits that populate the corner of the blanket, Copia putters around with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses.

The whole thing is a little unexpected, but not unwelcome, and you watch him with fondness as he utters a Whoopsie when the cork goes flying at the ceiling and as he obsesses over making each glass level.

You two clink glasses with a Salute, both taking a modest sip.

“This is lovely, Cop—uh, Papa.” He’s all smiles. “But why me?”

His eyebrows draw together, and he tilts his head at you.

“Mia cara…who else would it be?”

You blush and shrug your shoulders, looking down at your platter. When he takes your hand in his warm, leathered one, you look up and get lost in his earnest, mismatched gaze.

“You are the most important person in my life.”

His thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“You are too sweet, mia cara. Helping an old man—”

“You’re not old—”

He tsks at you.

“Helping a person I am being. At my side even when you are in the knowing.” He taps his nose and winks. “Our little conspiracy of silence, yes?”

That Copia is not quite exactly the bumbling, nutty-professor he leads the rest of the Clergy to believe he is? Yeah, obviously.

He nods.

“And yet, you are by my side. Keeping my head on straight. Because you are wanting to.”

Because you saw the way he treated his rats, his Ghouls, and even Sister Imperator. He may have a dangerous ambition, but he’s not a dangerous man.

“I believe in you Papa.”

He gives you that fond look again.

“Well. I believe in you too, Sister.”

Copia lets your hand go and claps.

“Now! Let us enjoy this feast! Next up is a movie marathon where we enjoy our food comas, yes?”

You pop a grape into your mouth.

“Of course, Papa.” You give him a devilish smile. “How ‘bout you give the schedule so I can make sure we’re on track, hm?”

He blinks at you for a moment before giving you his little rat laugh.

“Ah, eh heh heh! There is my little taskmaster.”

“What would you do without me?”

He tosses a gape and just barely catches it in his mouth.

“I wouldn’t, cara. I wouldn’t.”

#marionette-ghoulette #cardinal copia #papa iv #female reader #fluff

[mari-lair]

Norray halloween week Day 1: Ghosts!

If curious, below are some random info about this Teacher/ghost AU

Ray got a gun and he can use it. The ghost gun isn’t able to touch, much less physically hurt anyone, but it replicate the sound of a real gun, which contributed a lot to how low priced his haunted house rent has become. It nearly gave Norman a heart attack the first time he heard it.

After being dead for a while, Ray learned how to turn visible and invisible at will and play around small objects such as paper, shoes and butcher knives. He can control up to 4 small objects at a time or something relativaly heavy like a chair if he really concentrate. The more he got the hang of controling and moving small objects the lower his house rent become, rarely getting aggressive but still able to physically hurt people. On All Hallows Eve he can posses people’s bodies and get out of the house he haunts, but he always ends up back to his empty ‘home’ when the night is over.

Ray is an incredibly fast learner. Just by observing the people that visits his house, he learned a decent amount of modern english and understand the basics of how tecnology is a  thing now -he wished this advanced tecnology was invented when he was alive. It would make the of lack of food and nutrients less of a deadly nightmare in open sea.

As a pirate, Ray used to be the one in charge of doing most of the bloody work and take the night watch, protecting his captain’s back from both outside and inside forces. He was constantly alert, borderline paranoic. But as the years in death passed, he grew more calm, very patient. He usually don’t mind new people in his house, happy to learn more modern english and befriend the guests willing to tolerate him. If a new guest cross a line however,  Ray will do his best to scare them away. Hurt them or kill them by manipulating knives if he sees fit.

It’s very rare for adults to see Ray as anything other than a nonsense they have no energy to deal with or a warning sign for their crumbling lives, so he usually hang around kids. The childish company mellows him with time.

Ray is from a time where death was common and getting hurt was inevitable so what people consider pretty serious is something Ray considers mild “Why are you being so dramatic about seeing some bone? Be grateful your hand is still attached to your wrist after you slaped your daughter. If it wasn’t for her wishes you wouldn’t have legs to run away.”

Norman is considered a genius and have countless prizes under his belt. He wanted to go to the moon when he was a kid but because of his weak health, he knew he would not be acepted in the space program. He decided teaching was the next best thing later on, accepted as a teacher in a prestigious school while still young. He enjoys and understand all subjects but love history the most, unable to deny it was hard and frustrating to teach a whole class of teens at times but still liking his job. Having one student that was genuinaly interested in his class was more than enough to make his day.

When Norman first started teaching, he felt more responsable than he had his whole life. It wasn’t a bad feeling per see, but it made him anxious so he called his little sister Cherry once a week to ask her questions about her teachers and make sure he was doing a good job.

Norman may not be the funniest of teacher but he’s still a favorite for his palpable cares for his students. He does not make the subject easier than is requested but he put a lot of effort into making people enjoy their world history, teaching with passion and seriously answering any questions, no matter how silly or joking it sounds. He’s understanding and try his best to help those with dificulty with the subject, always giving people second chances, having lost countless nights of sleep correcting re-writen essays after deadlines and turning his test questions into podcasts for students with adhd, aware the big historical excerpts are fundamental for answering the test but too hard to focus, specially with limited time.

The lambda crew are problem children. Norman went the extra mile to save Barbara and Zazie from failing classes even outside history and left Vincent startruck with his wide knowladge about not only world history but a ton of subjects he could be teaching too if he wasn’t overworking himself. Norman is both happy to inspire the squad to study hard and also very awkward by their blind admiration.

The teacher had a firm “ghost don’t exist”  mentality, which is one of the reasons he brought the haunted house in the first place. He had chalked Ray up as an halucination from his sleep deprived brain, having the rotten luck of buying the house right after a bad guest owned. The ghost got more annoyed than usual from things as insignificant as Norman keeping the lights on for too long, putting music Ray doesn’t vibe with, or just acting unfairly cute, to more personal matters such as Norman studying about Ray and his family lives. They used to have a distant and bad relationship but once Ray noticed Norman had only admiration for history, being genuinaly kind when trying to talk instead of mocking his existence, Ray apologised. Norman was still wary at first but they quickly hit off, enjoying to learn what the other had to offer and matching in wits.

When Norman catch a fever or a bad cold Ray gets wary. He know, on some level, that medicine have evolved a lot, but he remenbers way too clearly how serious even the weakest of diseases could get if not imediatly treated.  He always stick by Norman’s side when the teacher sneezes, not taking his eyes off him. Usually Norman keep working when he catch a cold, so Ray learned to float Norman’s grading papers out of his reach when coughing joined his sneezes. Floating a paper is enough to get Norman to take a break most of the time, but if the get stubborn Ray will stop playing nice. Just lower his voice to comander mode and order “Rest. Now. Or I’ll make your life a living hell.” and Norman does what he’s told, it’s very unconfortable to have a gun in the face and he does feel very tired.

When Norman is seriously sick, not just coughing but stuck to his bed. Ray freak out and fear for his life. When it reached this level, most of his crewmates died or had to be thrown in the sea to not infect other. Yes Ray know it’s not as bad anymore, but even when he observed guests, they rarely got sick, and when it got bad they where taken to a doctor. Norman lives alone so he got no one to feed him and bring him blankets or take him to the doctor if he lies for hours in bed. Ray was all the help he would get and he is fucking dead, he can’t measure his temperature or take care of him properly. Ray does tries his best though. He concentrated a lot to float heavy blankets and pillows towards Norman. Imediatly fetching any pills asked of him and doing his best to make him tea. It isn’t tasty, but Norman still appreciates his care.

Ray is the first to fall in love, he think “If only I could  kiss this fool and hug him, I would do it on the daily. I wish he was alive back then... He would love meeting Emma...” at least once a week but a big part of him is just “Forget scurvy! Norman would die of cold or malnutricion before he reached 10. Thank god the helpless bastard took his sweet time to be born.”

Ray cannot touch any eletronics, he can’t even come close without phones, computers, and tvs turning to statics, so Norman buys an illustrated book about the Red Mane Pirates for Ray to see his crew again. He know is not perfect but is the best he can offer whenever Ray expresses missing his family.

They read together. Norman occasionally teaching a new word to his ghost and Ray correcting any historical inacuracy. It’s fun.

Norman finds an illustration of an alive Ray sleeping in the mast waaay too beautiful. Ray snort at the romantized draw, disolving into laughter by how Norman failed to hide his blush.

It became a habit to read history books together and tease each other. More often then not, it lead to a history class and way to much sass on both ends.

“Wait, so there really was a world war? I heard about it from old guests but I thought they were exagerating when they called world war! And what do you mean 2? There was a second one??”

“How did miss the second one? It was HUGE, quite horribl-”

“You were not even alive when it happened.”                                        

“Tecnically, you weren’t either Ray-” 

Ray is a bit scared of how attached he got to Norman, knowing eventually the man would die. He hopes it will take a long time, and that once he had a painless death, he will become a ghost too, but he doesn’t really believe Norman will ever turn into a ghost. Ray knows not everyone that dies became a ghost. Since someone as compassionable as Emma -even if she was forced to have blood and dirty choises on her hand to survive the merciless seas- was not cursed to became a ghost, he was confident someone as kind as Norman would dissapear from Ray’s afterlife once he died too.

More of this AU here

.

And since you reached the end of this text wall. You can have this bonus Norman being awkward/excited about their growing friendship.

#norray #the promised neverland #tpn norman #tpn ray #norray week #norrayweek #i still can't draw adult BUT THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT #i don't know much about history so guyhiluojikço #NORMAN SLEEPING POSE WAS SO HARD TO DRAW HOLY SHI- #but i love this au #yiouhoji freaking ship week anxiety tho