#as well as some asks i’ve gotten until today :3

[chuluoyi]

taking a break from tumblr for a few days !!

#my rl job is a bit too much lately🥲 #and i think being on the internet too long exhausts my mental state too #in the meantime i’ll queue some drabbles based on requests!🫶🏻 #as well as some asks i’ve gotten until today :3 #i will be back with either unholy matrimony or suguru’s valentine special we shall see 😉 #thank u alll !!! 🩵

[ryndicate]

Seal It With a Kiss ⨳ Kishibe

"You want me to do this for you? Then tell me exactly what it is that you want."

notes: I came up with this idea for @akiniku back in like september when i was just beginning to sniff around the csm fandom for a favorite. Dom told me all about him and i fell in love and came up with this plot and *then* I read csm lol. 6+ months later, here we are T-T thanks to @cyancherub for reading through his characterization for me and for my past and future beta readers<3 (i know some of you havent gotten the chance i was just too excited) Idon’t know if i will ever be able to put as much love into a Kishibe fic ever again so lets try to appreciate this

warnings: female reader, longer than a drabble, alcohol, virginity loss + inexperienced reader, creampie, emotional manipulation, coercion but there's consent, age gap (like 30 years between them, fight me), trainee/mentor relationship, twisted savior complex, canonverse, piss (more about control than it is the kink)

Rules/BYF/DNI

Kishibe sighs. “That’s it for today.”

“Already?” You puff, sweat dripping down your temples, your blade lowering until the tip is pointing to the ground. “I could keep going.”

He sighs again, resisting the urge to rub the approaching headache from his temple. Kishibe will never understand the PSDH’s insistence of sending him all of their potentials. Their screening is usually decent enough to keep this type of student from beneath his weathered wings, but every now and then one will slip through. One like you. Earnest, hopeful, and far too willing to do the job. This ain’t the place for you, never will be. They set you loose on the streets and you’ll be some Devil’s next meal. 

But it’s not his place to care. Not supposed to be at least. Makima won’t even tell him which Devils you have contracts with—but again, he doesn't care.

Kishibe ignores your mumbled complaints about cutting your training short, sighing under his breath. “Gonna need’a drink after this.”

He’s unprepared for you to pop up at his side, tilting your head as you ask if you can come with him.

“Why?”

The question seems to put you off. “Isn’t it good manners to take your juniors out after a hard day?” 

Kishibe huffs at your coy tone, certain you’re just after a free meal. “That’s for juniors who’ve proven they earned it.”

That seems to put you off even more. “You don’t think I’ve earned it?”

“No.” His answer is short, clipped. Dark eyes watch intently as you deflate a little, that perpetually cheerful expression drooping into something he ultimately decides is an unsettling expression on a face like yours. He doesn’t care for it, unable to decide why. 

“How’s this?” He grunts, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting up. “I’ll give ya a week.”

“A week for what? You're not supposed to smoke inside, you know.” A sulky tone meets Kishibe’s ears, your eyes tracking his lips and the flare of the cherry as he inhales.

He ignores the snipe. “You get close enough to me to take one of these away—” a twitch of his fingers has flaky ash fluttering to the linoleum, “—and I’ll take you out for drinks. That’s how you earn it.”

The sparkle is back in your eyes in an instant. Your sword tips back into its sheath, coming up on his left to give him a smile. "You got it, sir! You'll never smoke again. Just watch."

Kishibe rolls a shoulder, suppressing a groan at your chipper attitude. I'm getting too old for this shit. "We'll see about that, sweetheart."

He's ignorant to the way the words make you pause, moving for the door, ready to get in his car and drive to his regular dive bar. He needs the silence of the drive before he drowns himself for the night. Well, not so much silence as the rattling heating unit, the rush of passing cars, and music so quiet one might question why it’s even on. It’s simply the beginning step of the ritual he’s come to find most comforting, or numbing, on this job. 

"See you tomorrow, sir?"

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even bother glancing back as the door closes behind him. 

The autumn air clears his head a little as he finally escapes the hallways of the office. A cold breeze whips at his hair, bringing old scars and memories to mind as it bites at his skin. Kishibe takes a final drag of his cigarette and lets it fall to the pavement. He doesn’t stub it out, pulling out the collar of his jacket to fight the chill as he disappears into the evening crowd.

“That is not how this works.”

“There’s no way this doesn’t count!”

“Give them back.”

“I said you’d never smoke again, didn’t I? I didn’t think you of all people would want me to go back on my word.”

Kishibe takes a careful inhale through his nose, closing his eyes for a beat and convincing himself he won’t kill any of his trainees. He’s sent you to infirmiry more times than he cares to count with these training sessions, to bring home the apparently wavering point on your young dumb invicibility complex, but he knows where the line is. So when he opens them, Kishibe fixes you with the same intent stare that usually gets his subordinates to straighten up, or clingy women out of his apartment. Dark, unimpressed, unwavering.

You are painfully undeterred.

“I had to get close enough to take them from you. That’s what you said.” You stand in front of him, at a regrettably smart distance, looking mighty proud of yourself as you clutch the worn white box carefully in your fist. After five straight days of utter and total defeat, you’d made your move on the car ride over this morning instead. 

“I said one, not the pack,” Kishibe drawls. “And you know damn well that ain’t the point here. Nickin' them from the car is not the same.”

You shrug, a familiar petulance beginning to saturate your tone. “Not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You said that kills people.”

Unprepared for the—still a smartass answer but—wisdom of your words, some of the intensity dissolves from his eyes. As if he really needed that reminder. He still has his doubts. 

“No arguing that,” Kishibe sighs, scratching his neck. “Guess you get what you wanted. Drinks on me tonight.”

A triumphant smile brightens your face, but it doesn’t last. The barest moment later you find yourself flat on your back on the training facility’s floor, groaning at the impact. 

Kishibe flicks his lighter, sparking his cigarette and taking a grateful inhale of sweet nicotine as he stands over you, impassive.

“But I’m still gonna make you earn it, sweetheart. Getting overconfident and lettin’ down your guard also kills people. Get up and block me next time.”

“Yes, sir."

He might have been harsher on you today than entirely warranted as he watches you wince and shift, trying to get comfortable in the weathered booth of his usual bar. But really, to go any easier on you would do you a disservice if you really are this hellbent on working in public safety. Part of Kishibe is hoping one training session—and soon—he’ll find your limit and you’ll realize you aren’t making the cut. At the very least he’d like you to settle for the civilian sector. Hell, Kishibe despises paperwork but he'd write your damn recommendation.

You’re peering around the dimly lit space. It's hazy with smoke, with a scent to match. He probably could have taken you somewhere nicer, but he really didn’t want to stray too far from his own comfort zone, so what the hell. This was your own idea anyways. 

“Are you even old enough to be in here?” Kishibe asks suddenly, catching the eye of the bartender and tipping his head. 

“I came of age a couple months ago.”

Kishibe cringes inwardly at your prideful tone. Fucking great. He eyes you as the bartender begins to edge out from behind the counter, watching as you glance around a little frantically for a menu. Shoddy place like this doesn’t really have one. 

Kishibe gestures between the two of you before the man has to cross the bar completely. “My usual. Double for me.”

"What's your usual?" You ask curiously. 

"Whiskey. Nothing fancy, just cheap and strong." 

"Oh."

The glasses are placed in front of you and you give what Kishibe sees as an awkward smile at the bartender as your fingers wrap around the glass. He takes a grateful gulp, unable to help but notice you haven't made a move with your own. 

"Not to your taste?"

"I don't know," you answer plainly, tilting the short glass and letting the amber liquid catch the light. "Never had it."

"Never had whiskey?" Kishibe hums, bored, taking another drink. The double is going fast. The familiar warmth has already settled in his chest, an old comfort. 

"Never had alcohol."

Sucker punched with that information, Kishibe pauses and swallows the last of his glass before setting it down and signaling for a refill. He's far too practised to waste a drop of a drink he's paying for.

"Why are we here?" It's a shrewd question, a shrewd tone. "If you've never had alcohol, why were you so insistent on going out for drinks? Isn't that something you do with your friends?"

Your fingers tighten on the glass, a small pout forming on your lips. "Didn’t wanna do this with friends. Wanted my first drink to be with you, s-sir." Embarrassment coats your features as your words stumble off at the end, and you return to examining your still untouched drink.

Kishibe's refill arrives, another heaven sent double. He's getting the faint inkling that something else is happening here and he's far too tired to pick the answers out of you.

"Lemme get this straight," he drawls, leaning forward and jabbing a finger at you over the rim of his glass before bringing it to his lips. "You wanted your first drink out with a tired old man instead of your friends?"

"You're not tired!" 

Your tone is scandalized, pitch rising high enough that it catches the attention of some other men seated nearby. The last thing he needs.

Kishibe scoffs, scar twitching as he fights a sardonic smirk. "Beg to differ sweetheart."

"You're not, you…you're—" your volume is back to normal, seemingly struggling with your words, and it's amusing if not slightly endearing. 

"Lemme know when you think of something, I'll be here," Kishibe mumbles, drinking again, content to watch you squirm. "You gonna take that first drink? You got me here, like you wanted. Might as well."

That small smirk finally fights its way onto his lips as you give him the barest of glares. He usually doesn't see that look on you until you've gone an entire session without landing a single hit. It's cute. 

"You're you. Don't gotta 'splain myself to you," you grumble, timidly lifting the glass to your lips.

"No, you don't," Kishibe rumbles in agreement, watching as you take your first swallow. 

To your merit you don't splutter or cough, but a grimace splinters across your expression as you swallow and stare down at the glass in mild disbelief. 

"This sucks," you announce firmly.

Kishibe barks out a short laugh and finishes his second drink. "I'll order ya something else."

He's reaching for your glass when you snatch it away from him. 

"No, I'll finish it. This is what you usually get?"

"Yeah. But take it easy, that's a—" Kishibe stares, a little defeated as you down the glass. "Tha'sa sippin' whiskey."

"What's that mean?" You croak out, your face scrunching up despite your efforts.

"It means you're getting a glass of water before I get you anythin' else."

"Why?"

You'll thank me in the morning, Kishibe thinks grimly, not deigning to answer. Along with the next few rounds and the rounds after that, he also orders your water and some food, feeling abnormally generous. Maybe he just doesn’t want to deal with your grumbling tomorrow at training. 

He can’t stop thinking how strange this is. It’s strange. You’re here in his usual booth, humming an odd tune while drinking his usual whiskey, when he’s here each night, usually alone. Kishibe feels the deep disturbance all the way to his roots, gnarled and twisted as they are. 

Watching your face twist up at the taste again, Kishibe decides to slow down with some soju instead. Your eyes are getting blurry and your hands have settled into some kind of nervous habit, picking at the edge of the table as you try not to look at him. He doesn't understand your insistence here. Here at the bar, or anything else. 

"Why are you doin' this?" He asks again, quiet.

You glance at him, blinking slowly as your gaze struggles to focus. Then you force a smile, sweet and pure as a Devil's heart. It's damn near chilling to see. 

"'Cause I want to, sir."

"Bullshit." He's looked into you. Your family is alive, financially stable. You're not like most rookies joining up for the pay or the revenge. And from being around you he figures you aren't the type to do this for status. So it doesn't make sense. 

Your smile fades. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You're not cut out for this shit, kiddo. An' I think ya know it, too."

"It's my first night out drinking, how can you tell?"

"Don't play coy with me."

You stand sharply, unsteady, a look crossing your face that Kishibe can't read. Before he can speak again, you're sliding into the booth on his side. 

"Then ask me directly, sir." You whisper, trying valiantly to meet his harsh stare, before eventually losing your nerve and fixing your gaze on the table. 

Like Kishibe has any problem being direct. Fine then. He sets his glass down and turns his body to face you. "Why're ya training so damn hard to become a Devil Hunter when it's just gonna get you killed?"

Cheeks warming, you don't look at him again. "Every Hunter has their reason, or else they wouldn't be here. We don't gotta share them unless we want to."

Your words are halting, and slurred. Kishibe pushes your drink out of reach. A fifth of whiskey and bottle of soju between you both for your first night out was an oversight on his part, even if he had more than you. 

"And you're not goin' to tell me?"

Head dropping into your palm, eyelashes fluttering, you peek up at him. "Not unless you can tell me why you care."

Kishibe pauses. He's got plenty of reasons, but he's not uncouth enough to say them to you. 'Cause he doesn't want to be wasting his time prepping meat for the chopping block. 'Cause booze is expensive and sleep is precious. He doesn't get enough as it is and he's sick at the idea of losing more. 'Cause every time one of his trainees dies, it feels like a new scar cracks its way across the already trampled fragments of his soul. 

There's plenty of reasons he drinks himself nearly dead every night. 

Your fuzzy eyes peer into his darkened ones and seemingly run into the wall that you know he's put up. "Then it's better you don't ask, sir. It’s important to me, that’s all you need’ta know."

So much for direct.

There's a silence at the table after Kishibe gruffly orders another drink, his mood for the night officially ruined. This is why he doesn't socialize with coworkers. Save people by day, check out at night. He lives for one fleeting peace; he'd rather be drowning in booze and laid up in the arms of whatever woman will put up with him.

And all he has right now is booze. He flags the barkeep. "Bottle for the road."

You shift to look at him. "Are we leaving already?"

"Yeah. You've had plenty."

There's no complaint, but there's no mistaking the look of disappointment on your face as he takes your arm and helps haul you to your wobbly feet.

"What's that look for?"

"I was having fun, sir."

"Stop calling me sir."

"Why?"

"Cause we're at a fucking bar. Sir is for work."

"Then what am I supposed to call you?"

"Just Kishibe."

He finally looks at you again and you're smiling and this time there's nothing to be unsettled about. "No honorific? You'll let me call you by name?"

"It's sir at work," Kishibe reminds, deadpan.

“And master in front of other hunters, I know,” you parrot cheekily, and Kishibe merely curls his lips in a temporary smirk.

“Damn right.”

"But not at work?" You prod, leaning into his frame heavily as the cold night air washes away the warmth of the bar.

"Then yeah, drop the honorific."

"Kishibe." His name leaves your lips as a wonder-filled giggle. The corner of his lip tugs further upward unwittingly in dry amusement. At least someone can salvage the mood for the night. 

You poke at the bottle held loosely in his grip. "Can I have some of that?"

He passes it to you. "You don't even like the stuff."

An impressive amount of the amber liquid disappears down your throat before you groan in disgust and pass it back to him. "Sometimes we do stuff we don't like 'cause we get something out of it."

Kishibe hums at that. "And what do you get out of it?"

"'S a secret."

"A secret, huh? You seem to have a lot of those." He drawls, keeping you upright when you almost fall again. Yeah, he needs to find you a taxi or something. Neither of you are driving tonight. It's a little annoying, he meant to stop at the convenience store to get another pack of cigs before going home tonight. The crumpled empty pack is still in his pocket—he hasn't had one since this morning and Kishibe can feel the irritation in his nerves. 

"What's your address kid?" He nudges you as the taxi pulls up, but your weight against his hip suddenly feels dead. "Are you—of course you are."

Kishibe's whole chest fills with his next sigh, and he quietly works to get you into the cab. The driver asks him where they're going and he actually has to think about it for a moment. He'd much rather prefer going back to his cozy little hideout, but it's a mess and much too small. Not to mention he absolutely does not want you knowing where it is.

Closing his eyes, Kishibe reluctantly mumbles out an address, and sinks even deeper into his bottle before the cab drops them off at the requested location.

He eyes you over as the elevator quietly ascends, one arm around your waist with yours around his shoulder to bear your weight. It's really no wonder you passed out, the scent of whiskey is just about crawling out of your pores. Between the two of you, Kishibe bets the elevator smells like a distillery.

The doors open into his “apartment”. 

He doesn't like sleeping here. The place is too big, ceilings too high, furniture too fancy. All those high windows and modern grays and whites. It's perfectly clean and perfectly lifeless, set up for him by the PSDH. He's sure some bright-eyed big shot hunter in it for the money and high living would get a kick out of the place, but for a man like him the space is just obnoxious. But since his studio isn't an option, and Kishibe can't be bothered with taking you to a hotel, he figures you'd rather prefer one of his guest rooms instead. 

Kishibe flinches and grumbles under his breath as the now empty bottle slips from his hand and clatters to the hardwood. You make a rather undignified snort as you startle to awareness. If one could call it that.

“Wha—” Your fingers cling to the sleeve of his jacket as you blink through the blur of your eyesight, struggling to find your footing. “Where’re we now?”

“My place.”

“You live here?” 

“Technically.”

He hauls you towards the kitchen, somewhat a struggle with your uninhibited desire to swivel your head and scan the place as thoroughly as you were presently capable of doing.

“Not what I pictured.” You wobble and right yourself, slumping against the marble countertop. Kishibe pauses, making sure you’re gonna make a dive for his floor before he turns to pull open the fridge.

“Yeah well, me neither.”

“It’s so clean.” That earns you a grunt. “And modern.”

“You tryin’ to say something, sweetheart?” He sends you a look that sends a hot wave of embarrassment across your face.

“No! ‘M just sayin’...”

“Yeah, whatever. Here.”

You take the water bottle he pushes into your hands and open it, halfheartedly taking a few sips to ease the simmer in your cheeks.

Kishibe snorts when you put it down. “Nuh uh, finish that.”

You take another sip, trying to placate him. “‘M not thirsty though.” 

Your eyes widen as he grumbles and steps closer, dark eyes narrowed. It’s impossible to muffle the noise of complaint on your lips as he tips the water bottle back, keeping your chin up with an uncompromising strength. "Tough. I said all of it."

The rough pads of his thumbs feel like fire on your jaw and he seems to have no idea how his proximity is setting you ablaze. You quickly swallow before you choke, or worse spill down your chin like a child. He doesn’t let go until you’ve finished the bottle—it’s impossible not to gasp for air as if you’ve breached the surface of a pool for the first time in minutes.

“Pretty good lungs.”

“I almost died—!” You wheeze, unappreciative of the joke, wiping your face with your arm.

“You were gonna be dead in the morning if you didn’t. Might as well get it over with.” Kishibe sets the empty bottle on the counter, unflappable.

“Hmph.”

You watch curiously as he grabs himself some water, noticing with a scowl that he doesn’t drink nearly as much as he forced on you. He reaches for a small bottle, rattling as he shakes a couple into his palm. “You’re not supposed to take those with alcohol.”

Kishibe gives you a dry look and pops the painkillers into his mouth. He can feel his head pounding already, his routine thoroughly interrupted. He can’t mentally check out with you still here, especially in this state. You look a little more solid now compared to your unconscious slump, but you’re still visibly swaying, blurred eyes drifting in and out of focus. Last thing he needs is for you to do something to yourself when he’s around. The paperwork for that would be the death of him.

He shrugs and nods for you to follow. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

You suddenly look nervous. “C’mon where?”

“Night’s over. Time for bed.”

You produce a shaky laugh. “What?”

Sweet fuck.

“You want a bed or the couch?” Kishibe takes applaudable effort to keep the exhaustion out of his tone. Honestly, you'd probably be better off with the couch, grateful for your mumbled little ‘doesn’t matter to me’. He's not sure of the state of any of the rooms, considering he's trashed them before. Whoever set the place up for him might have a cleaning service but he's never bothered to ask about it since he’s never here. “There’s blankets around here somewhere.”

Stepping into the living room he sees he’s right, a couple of soft looking throws draped over the back of a plush black sectional. You’re trailing close behind him, like you’ll get lost if you lose sight of him. 

“Sit.” Kishibe says tiredly as you circle around the edge of the sectional, looking around curiously.

You listen and he grabs the other blanket off the far arm of the couch, tossing it and one of the pillows towards where you’re sitting. The pillow lands at your side, the blanket haphazardly in your lap, are you’re just staring at him as he settles on the other side, shrugging out of his suit jacket and letting that fall to the floor.

“Get comfortable, go to sleep,” Kishibe grunts, closing his eyes.

“You’re staying in here?”

He doesn’t read into the tone of your voice, keeping his eyes shut. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t choke on your own puke in your sleep.”

“‘M not gonna puke,” you grumble under your breath.

Kishibe wills in a sigh, listening to the rustle of blankets and what he assumes is you settling down. Only to tense as the cushion near him dips under weight. He opens his eyes to see you sitting you next to him and his eyes sharpen.

You cut him off, seeming to sense whatever biting remark is coming. “I’m not tired. Not good at sleeping in new spaces.”

“Well you need’ta try.”

“Can we just talk for a bit?”

He sighs, but he doesn’t refute you, opening his eyes to give you a quiet stare. “Fine. What do you want to talk about?”

Relying heavily on the lingering alcohol in your veins to gather the nerve, you scooch closer to his position on the couch, dragging the blanket with you. “You’ve really never had anyone over here? But Himeno says you never spend your nights alone.”

Kishibe eyes you warily as you enter what he considers his field of personal space, your knees barely brushing against his thighs. “I don’t normally spend my nights here. And you can tell Himeno she’s got better things t’do than gossip about my personal life.”

“So you spend the night at their place then?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are you really the womanizer everyone says you are?”

Kishibe glances up to see you even closer and shifts a little to give you a measured look, eyelids drooping in suspicion. “You really want the truth of that?”

“Yeah, ‘m hoping to hear something,” you murmur, heart racing as you place a hand on his abdomen. It stiffens under your touch, but he makes no move to stop you, so you toy with the button of his shirt. 

“And what’s that exactly?” Shock receding, his mind catches up and he grabs your hand, keeping it from tracing its upward path.

“There’s something I’m hoping you can help me with, sir.”

“Kishibe.”

“Kishibe,” you correct, cheeks warming as you finally raise your eyes from his chest to look into his own. He’s watching you so closely that you almost look away again, almost chickening out. 

His eyes are locked onto the way you’re chewing at your lip, waiting for you to say something more, hoping for anything that makes sense. When you don’t his patience thins enough to ask, “Well?”

“I-um,” you hesitate before your fingers curl into his shirt, mentally fortifying yourself, “I’ve never… I’m looking for someone experienced to- to help me. I want it to be you.”

There's a small pause as his whiskey-addled mind filters out the meaning of your words. Then, a small disbelieving smirk is half-formed on his lips when he scoffs out a laugh. “Ha, no, sweetheart. No, I don’t think so.”

He’s shifting to stand up off the couch when you panic. You’ve gotten this far! He has to hear you out, or you’ll never be able to look him in the eye again, let alone train under him. So before he can, you throw your thigh over his lap, straddling him. His hands flash to your arms in an iron grip, keeping your hands from wandering any further. He’s staring at you in muted disbelief, tense, as if he can’t quite believe you’re defying him. 

“Please wait,” your voice raises in pitch, but you’re almost whispering. “I can explain, please just listen.”

“What? Cute little student girl got the hots for teacher? Or are you desperately in love with me now, and can’t bear the thought of anyone else sullying your innocence?” he drawls out, the insanity of this situation finally allowing him to release the floodgates on all the ill manner he’s been attempting to keep back all night. 

Your face might as well be a space heater as you splutter in mortification at being seen through so easily, trying to find the words to refute him. “N-no! No, I wasn’t. That’s… That’s not…”

“You better clear this up real quick then, sweets, cause you don’t have long before I take it into my own hands,” Kishibe warns lowly, soft and dangerous, seconds from calling a cab to get you miles away from his apartment, and more importantly him. 

The hard-eyed stare he’s giving you now is nothing like the way he looks at you in training. Your heart sinks into your stomach at the thought that entertaining your feelings is enough to make him react this way, turning him into this colder version of himself that you barely recognize. This is not going the way you intended, but you can’t imagine that you’ll ever be in a situation like this ever again, so you take a deep breath and clear your expression of all deceit. “It’s not like that, but I really can’t think of anyone else to help me with this. It’s not for lack of trying.”

Kishibe eyes you, his grip on your arms not slacking. You glance down at him warily, and he’s like a bristling cat that’s making an attempt at trust. 

“So…? Will you help me?”

He mumbles eventually, still tense, “Why not Hayakawa? Or one of the other rookies, they’re probably better suited.”

You make a face. “The rookies are stupid, and Hayakawa-san is just too… stern.”

“I’m not stern?”

“That’s not the point!” You retort hotly. “Hayakawa just seems more like someone who isn’t interested in casual flings—”

“And that’s what you’re looking for here?” Kishibe cuts in drily, noting the way your mouth snaps shut. You shift awkwardly in his lap and he stoutly blames his nightly routine for the way his body is sluggishly perking to life. He might have the heart of a saint, but his mind is more like a devil’s… and he has eyes.

Oblivious to his internalizations, you grimace. You don't want casual anything so it's technically a point in Hayakawa's favor. But there's one big point in the younger man's (begrudgingly small) list of cons that can't be overlooked: he's not Kishibe.

“I’m looking for someone who knows what they’re doing,” you inform him, your voice softening. There’s a sort of vulnerability to you now that has the older man caving despite himself and listening more intently, watching you whiplash between assertive and shy for the nth time. “Someone I trust, who won’t take advantage of me. And… I don’t believe the whole sacred virginity schtick, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want my first time to be… I don’t know, special?”

Kishibe’s mouth runs dry, and this time he blames the alcohol. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Don’t say that,” you plead softly, leaning closer without thinking in your excitement. That wasn’t a refusal. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal, I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

He can feel your breath on his cheeks, his eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes for a moment before humming low. “No one else? A girl like you, having to settle for an old man like me?”

"No one has to know. Please, sir?" You plead quietly, with crystal notes of sincerity. It's a painfully sweet sound.

Kishibe reluctantly lets your arms slip from his hands and drops his own to loosely grip your waist, absently drawing a pattern on your hip with one finger. The heat of your body is filtering so thick through your clothes that he doesn't know how he didn't notice it until now. You shiver at his touch, and he tries to keep his expression neutral when you instinctively grab at his shoulders.

He shouldn't be considering this for even a second, but he is and he hates himself for it. You're a young pretty thing, and he's made a point to stop looking at young pretty things the way your touch is sparking him to, for going on years now. 

Carefully, one hand moves to rest on your stomach, caressing its way up over your covered chest, eliciting a soft gasp from you before it moves on and settles under your chin, firmly tugging it down to make sure you're looking at him. He's never cared for the way you can't look him in the eye, and he normally lets it go but he won't tolerate it tonight. If he goes through with this, that is.

Your eyes are wide, and glazed in a way that has nothing to do with alcohol for the first time tonight. Kishibe makes a low sound in his throat at the sight of it before speaking, a heavy, rumbling tone meant to ensure you're taking in every word. 

"You want me to do this for you?"

"Yes." Your breath catches as you damn near breathe the word out, your heart in your throat and a flutter in your stomach that makes you feel like you might fly away.

"Then tell me exactly what it is that you want." Fuck, he’s really doing this.

"I…" The hesitation must be clear on your face because his expression gets heated, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of his lips. You wouldn't have seen it at all if you weren't staring at them so hard. A quiet moan spills from your lips as he presses them to your jaw, not quite kissing, but dragging them up, warm breath tickling your ear. The center of your world quakes as he continues with that low, soul-quaking tone.

"Do you want me to treat you like a princess? Worship your body and make it all about you, take you to another world as I take you apart?" Kishibe marvels at the broken whimper you make as he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. "Or do you want me to be a little selfish? Show you pleasure as I know it, and change everything you think you know about carnal desire?" 

"Sir—"

"No," he warns severely, gripping your thigh in warning, pulling back to look you in the eye. 

"Kishibe," you correct yourself with a breathy whine that you hope doesn’t sound ridiculous. "Kishibe, I want you to choose."

"You want me to choose?"

"Th-that's why I chose you. You always- always know what's best."

That's so far from true, but in this realm of possibility, with you blinking those sweet little doe eyes down at him, Kishibe won't be the one to correct you. "...Alright."

"Then please take care of me." Please.

This time it's him who shudders. "Alright," he murmurs again, "Alright, sweetheart. I've got you."

He’s a little gentler this time as he tugs your chin down to him, meeting your lips in a delicate kiss that has all his nerves standing to attention in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. With other women, he has no reason to be slow or gentle. With other women, both parties know what they’re there for, but this isn’t like that. You aren’t like that. You’re young, and if you’re to be believed, untouched. Pure. And you’ve put yourself in his care, begging for him to remove that purity. He’s not sure he ever would have agreed to this if he were sober, so you lucked out. Or maybe this is what you wanted all along.

Kishibe groans softly as you timidly move to respond to his kiss, alcohol sweet on your breath. You at least seem to know what to do here, parting your lips and staying pliant as he learns how you taste, moving your tongue against his as he explores your mouth. He breaks for a moment, giving you a warning and enough time to stop him, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m taking this off now.”

He waits, and when you do nothing but moan, he begins to pop the buttons of your shirt open, one by one from the bottom up, exposing your navel, and then the black cotton bra beneath. You kiss him deeper as he slides a hand up your spine, rocking your hips into his lap as he pulls at the clasp, undoing it in a practised move. The fabric falls loose, and he presses a hand to your sternum, forcing you to retreat.

Your lips are slick, a little swollen, but it’s the hazy look in your eyes that has all his attention. “You good, sweets? You even gonna remember this in the morning?”

“I will. I will, 'm promise. Please keep going,” you slur, not really giving him the best vote of confidence. 

“Take that off for me.” Kishibe tugs loosely at your bra, the cups hanging just low enough for him to get a peek at your areolas. His cock is straining in his slacks now, but he’s too invested for it to be uncomfortable yet. He meant it when he said he was going to take you apart, and he’s going to do it slowly.

You blink at him, and timidly slide the straps off your shoulders. Your movements are slow, but there’s less hesitance than he’s seen so far. It’s clear you’re more worried about his disapproval than any insecurities you might have. Good. 

“Good girl. Look at you,” Kishibe is quick to dole out the praise as soon as your tits are exposed, half for your confidence and half because they really are pretty tits. He’s reaching for them before even he can process what he’s doing. Your nipples are already hard, pulled taut and looking painfully neglected, either from your own arousal or the air. It could be cold in here for all Kishibe knows, but the air around him feels thick, heated and charged. He’d be suffocating if he weren’t so focused.

You take a shuddering breath as he holds them. His touch is so light, the pads of his fingers calloused and warm, stroking over the sensitive flesh. You want more, arching into his touch as much as you dare, still unable to shake the thought that he might change his mind and end this, but for now he doesn’t disappoint. Dazed, you realized the sharp gasp that bites the air is yours as he strokes the pads of his fingers over your nipples before tugging lightly, pleasure rippling hot under your skin.

Your head tosses back in a moan as he does it again, this time his lips brushing the curve of your breast as he pulls you forward, pressing your chest closer to his face. He sucks at the fat of your breasts, still gently tweaking your at your hardened nubs, working his way over, seemingly content to explore.

Pleasure moves hot and slow under your skin, but your mind keeps rocketing from one sensation to another, making it impossible to think beyond the man beneath you. His slick tongue moving against your skin, the heat and wet of it stroking over the edge of your areola, the rough pad of his thumb, the scrape of his blunt nail over the sensitive tip of your nipples, the same callouses gripping at your back, fingertips tickling the edge of your shoulder blade. 

“Quit it,” Kishibe grunts after a minute, and you realize you’ve twisted your hands into his hair, tugging him closer and trying to drag him to where it feels like he’s purposefully avoiding. 

“Please, Kishibe, please,” you moan, blissfully unaware of the minor tantrum you’re throwing at you grind down on his clothed erection. “Your mouth.”

“What about it?” He blinks at you lazily, taking the moment where you sit back to tug at the top few buttons of his own shirt, exposing the top of his chest and a peek of the dark hair that’s hidden beneath.

“Let… Let me feel it,” you breathe out after you’ve snapped your eyes away from that new detail.

The slow grin that spreads across his features feels like the first key in the series of locks that surrounds the man in front of you, a piece of him that he doesn’t share willingly. Something that has to be brought out, dragged out, a prisoner in a cage of its own making. 

“Be more specific, sweets.”

But he’s still the same man, he just exists in varying shades. You squirm for a moment, subject to self-consciousness, but the ache in your nipples, growing tighter in the continued neglect, wins out. You cup your own tits, pushing them out as you lean back down to him. “Want it here. Need to feel you suck on them.”

An appreciative gleam brightens dark eyes. “There’s a good girl.”

This time Kishibe leans in with intent, and you learn something else—your mentor is a goddamn tease. 

His tongue drags over your nipples before sucking, and your hands are tangled in his hair again before you can process it, a cry in a pitch you don’t even recognize torn from your mouth. The slick muscle flicks over the tip as his free hand comes up to roll the other between his fingers lightly. You’re shamelessly rutting into his lap now, senselessly chasing the pleasure boiling low in your stomach, and you can feel him moan against your skin at the friction.

You feel the scrape of his teeth, light and intentional, before he pops off and switches to the other. The treatment begins anew and you swear you might be able to come from this, the wet suction of his mouth, the tacky warmth as he tugs and twists at the nipple still covered in his spit. But Kishibe doesn’t let you, noting the frantic ruts of your body and beginning to slow his efforts, easing you back down.

“Wait—” Your complaint rears itself as your fingers twist into the shorter hair of his nape, trying to tug him closer the moment he pulls away.

“Easy, I’m not done with you,” he rasps, taking your wrists and gently detanging your fingers from his hair. 

You yelp as he grips your thighs and flips your back to the cushions, a strength you already knew he had from all the times he’s stomped you in training, but it surprises you regardless. There’s no time to pick through your thoughts at the display, because Kishibe is bullying between your thighs and capturing your lips in a kiss that puts the last one to shame. It’s possessive, it’s plundering; erasing any other thought from your mind except the way he feels against you. How immovable he feels, his hips keeping your thighs spread, his obvious arousal against your core, his weight against your torso—whatever isn’t supported by his forearm against the cushions, just what he chooses to give you—the scratch of his stubble against your face, the ones he lets overgrow because they shadow his jawline again in less than a day. 

You moan into his mouth as a hand slips between your bodies, pulling the button of your slacks and pushing a hand into your panties, the sound turning into a high keen as he drags his fingers through your slit. You know you’re wet, soaked even, but it’s still a shock to feel your own wetness as he pulls back out, slick against your mound before he’s free of your clothing, to see it shining on his fingers when he pulls back to give you a breath. You knew you wanted him, but to see how much would be mortifying if he knew the truth.

The glisten on his fingers goes unnoticed for a second as he catches sight of your wrecked expression, sitting back on his haunches.

“Oh sweets, look at you,” Kishibe chuckles, voice tight. “You’re a pretty sight right now, and you don’t even know. A sweet little mess. My sweet little mess, for tonight.”

Making a decision, he swipes his hands on the thighs of his pants and undoes his shirt, tossing it over the back of the couch, aware of the way you stare from beneath him. He's getting there in years, but the aches of this job refuse to let his body go soft. There's a thin layer of soft skin stretched across the muscles beneath, making the definition less pronounced, less assuming, but there's no denying the power behind them as he flexes subtly, smirking when your eyes track the movement. 

"Hips up," he orders firmly, his fingers already tugging at the waistband of your slacks.

Not needing to be told twice, you shift and raise your hips as he pulls them from your legs, panties and all. You're completely bare under him, and he's still wearing his pants, the button popped, looking like a god above you. His eyes are piercing, his expression set like marble. As he puts hot palms on your thighs, spreading them even further apart, you think about how attractive he looks when he smokes, almost wishing he had a cig hanging from his lips so you could see it. 

Kishibe is staring intently at your pussy, the hunger in him growing deeper as he watches the muscles twitch. "So no one's ever touched this, huh?" 

You shake your head, whimpering as he pulls your sticky lips apart. 

"You lying, sweetheart? Not even you?" 

Kishibe pulls back the hood of your poor swollen clit, stroking it lightly with the tip of his finger, dark eyes watching your face intently. 

The touch rips a gasp from your throat like ice had been poured down your back, tossing your pretty little head back into the pillows as your fingers twist at what little slack the cushions beneath you have. Kishibe feels the flames of hell crawl a little closer to his own flesh as his arousal flares dangerously at the sight. 

When you remain silent he prompts a little cruelly for an answer, slowly circling the throbbing bud. "Hmm?" 

"I've-yeah I've touched it. Sometimes." 

"Tell me." 

"Tell you?" You suck in a harsh breath as one of his digits teases your entrance, but pulls away. 

"Yeah, tell me how you touch your pussy at night. I wanna know how you play with yourself." His voice drones with detached amusement but his dark eyes are sharp, the sight making your skin prickle with elation to be the center of his attention.

“Usually slow,” you breathe out, moaning when he moves to your clit again. Two fingers press on the bundle of nerves and begin to rub back and forth in a steady tempo. 

“Like this?” Kishibe murmurs, watching you closely.

“Slower,” your voice breaks an octave higher as he increases the pressure just a little, readjusting to what you now realize are instructions for him. “Y-yes, mm, like that…”

“Good. How about your fingers, hmm? You do that slow too?” 

You can feel yourself dripping down to the couch as his voice drips across you like honey. “Yeah, at first.”

“One to start?” 

“Fuck!” A keen tears from your throat as he slides the first digit in, abandoning your clit, the thick, calloused digit pressing in to the hilt with zero resistance.

“Or do you start with two?” Kishibe watches raptly as his middle joins his pointer in the rippling warmth of your cunt, the broken sob leaving your lips sending a irresistible wave of want tearing through his body. The way your hips grind into his touch, chasing more of him is enough to let him know that you can take more, but he lets you stay here for a moment, using his free hand to stroke over his confined cock as you writhe beneath him. 

It’s not hard to find the right angle to stroke your slick walls, curling his fingers up into the spot that has you tossing your head back with what almost sounds like a mournful wail, as if you’re just realizing that you’ve never really given yourself real pleasure before. Kishibe isn’t sure if you have to be honest, you haven’t said, but he isn’t concerning himself with that. He’s too focused on the way you shy away from his touch when he presses his thumb to your clit again, as if you can’t take the combination.

“Oh?” It’s almost a coo, delight pulsing in his veins. “Not like that huh? That not how you do it?”

“I can’t, I can’t—it doesn’t, n-never like this!” It almost sounds like you’re pleading with him, your eyes wide as you stare at him, a thick haze of shock and bliss covering your irises that Kishibe is losing himself in, pumping his wrist, tempted to add a third finger just to see what sounds you’ll make.

“Told you I’d change everything you think you know about pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls his digits from your pussy, relishing in the whine of protest. And if he’s being honest with himself, there’s a bit of a power complex rushing through him, to be able to control your pleasure whether you think you can handle it or not is too alluring. It’s the thought of making you scream, nothing barred, as he forces ecstasty on you that you don’t even know exists on that has him pushing off the couch which a groan to finally free his cock, shucking his pants off, the liquor leaving him a little unsteady. 

“Sit up for me.” 

You do as he says, confusion scrunching you expression as he settles between your legs, his knees protesting only a little as he shifts so that the plush carpet isn’t dragging uncomfortably against his skin. A little yelp stays in your throat as he tugs you to the edge, spreading your thighs wider and positioning your hips up to expose your pretty pussy. He’s only a breath away, the scent of you thick, kissing distance really, when you slur out some nonsense that sounds questioning, but he can’t say he actually catches any sense of syllables from you.

“I’m thicker than most so you need this,” Kishibe grumbles, nipping at your inner thigh as you squirm and glaring you into submission, “But even a man with a pencil dick better be doin’ this for ya, so don’t accept less.”

Before you can come to terms with him on your knees before you, your mind fizzles out as his tongue swipes through your folds, and his groan vibrates deep into your core. If not for his hands keeping your thighs spread, you would have wrapped them around his head. His nose nudges at your clit as his tongue presses into your clenching pussy, and you can’t stop the garbled sound of pleasure as he laps at your walls, your head tossing back against the couch cushions as he eats you like a meal. It’s surreal, it doesn’t make a lick of sense but oh god you don’t care. The sounds of him slurping at your cunt makes your cheeks burn and you force yourself past your self consciousness to look down at him, the skin of your knuckles stretched tight as you curl them into shaking fists, trying to wrap your mind around the sensations. 

Kishibe flattens his tongue over your clit, and meets your gaze with a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slips a finger into you, savoring the way you clamp down right away, giving a reedy mewl. He can’t help himself any longer, one hand closing around his dick and beginning to slowly stroke himself, trying to go slow, to ease some of the pressure and calm himself down. He adds another digit, and sits back as he begins to work you towards your finish. 

“Should’ve done this in a bed,” he mutters under his breath, the scent of your pleasure thick, feeling mildly guilty as you tremble through your long awaited awaited high. Even his first encounter had been in a bed, traditional.

Kishibe hisses into your thigh as your fingers twist so tight into his hair that he’d snap at you if he were anywhere but here. Here with his fingers sweeping over your clit, watching the way your muscles ripple and tense, an obscene amount of slick and cum dripping onto his couch, and damn it why are you so easy to spoil? Why is he letting you practically rip the hair from his head as your hips jolt and jump, pleasure taking every ounce of your control away from you. There’s a wet sound as he finally pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you slump against the cushions, a looking so beautifully fucked out that it’s a damn shame you haven’t actually been fucked yet.

But that’s what you came here for, and Kishibe will not be the one to disappoint. He pushes to his feet for a moment and drags your hips until you’re both on the couch comfortably, and lets himself sink between your legs, his dick hot and throbbing against your inner thigh. It’s weeping precome and there’s a shivering sense of relief to know that his patience is finally about to be rewarded. 

“You still with me, sweets?” Kishibe murmurs softly, leaning over you, letting his lips drag up your throat in a possessive trail of teeth marks and bruises. “You ready for me?”

The prickle of his overgrown stubble brings you back down a little, and you moan as his tongue swipes over the indentations left in your flesh. “That was—” you gasp at a sharp dig of his teeth under your jaw, hips arching towards him as you feel the weight of his dick between your slick folds, thoughts flying from your mind as the thick tip of him slides over your oversensitive clit. “Oh fuck, Kishibe please. I need y- I need it, oh god.” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he really is going to ruin you. You can’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this good, so overwhelmed but so hungry for it.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers, and your body lights up as he shifts back a little, the head of his cock pressing against you and easing inside your desperate walls. He grins as your arms wrap around his shoulders, lips searching for his as your hips try to squirm deeper onto his cock. He meets you in a deep kiss, but he grips your hips firmly, sliding deeper into your clenching pussy at his own content pace, groaning into your mouth at how hot and wet you are. So tight, so so tight, that he can’t stop the juvenile thought about being sure you were a virgin from flitting through his mind, but he lets it go, not about to sully this experience for you with his own pussy drunk stupidity, closing his eyes and falling deeper into the kiss, forcing you to slow it and calm down for him, echoing your whimpers with tiny groans of encouragement.

His thrusts are as steady and measured as they can be with the way your walls suck him in, pussy lips stretched wide around the thicker middle of his shaft. Every time he pulls out he can feel the way your body is trying not to let him go, and every sink home is accompanied by a shaky little exhale from you that sets a fire so deep in his gut that Kishibe is sure the whiskey is the only reason he hasn’t fallen to pieces yet. You’re so pretty and needy sprawled about beneath him, so sunk to pleasure that you’ve resigned to just taking what he gives you and it’s addictive. His cock throbs as he listens to your mumbled little slurs about how good it feels, and he has to pause, breathing deep and hard as he wills down a sudden and fierce urge fill you with cum.

Kishibe chuckles as he sits up and you let out a whine of disapproval, but a slow roll of his hips changes your tune immediately. You’re sucking him in greedily, your clit swollen and damn near begging for attention. He brushes it gently with the back of his knuckles, hissing as you squeeze him in response, getting impossibly wetter around his length. “Doing so good for me, how are you feeling?”

“More, want more.” It’s barely intelligible with how breathless you are, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes down your temples. Your face is so sweet, so open, trusting and needy and suddenly Kishibe can’t find it in himself to draw it out on you any longer, is done handing out pleasure piece by piece, as if he were passing out candy to savor. He wants to pour pleasure over you, wants you to drown in it, to fall so deeply into it that there’s nowhere to surface to, lost in an endless sea.

One strong arm slides under your hips and pulls you up into a better position, fingers digging into your hip as Kishibe begins to fuck you in quick, steady strokes. His forehead is pressed to your chest, cheek in plush of your breast as he controls his groans, a dark satisfaction choking out the last tendrils of guilt as your fingers desperately weave their way back into his hair once more, cradling his head tightly to your chest. There’s no more irritation; the sharp sting feels like a fucking prize, knowing that the price is an overwhelming pleasure that he can feel through you. You feel so good around him, responding so well to his movements, angling your own hips and moving back into his thrusts, that he can’t stop a continuous stream of curses and praises from melting into your skin.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me sweetheart, so good. Squeezing me so tight, wrapped around me so perfect. You feel good? Everything you fucking wanted, hm?” He bites at the flesh of your chest as you tighten around his dick, goosebumps rising visibly across your skin.

You feel like a live current, so electric and buzzing with energy and it feels like there’s nowhere for it to go, zipping up and down your body only to return, shivering and sparking deep in your belly. You try to articulate that this is way more than you ever thought you could ask for, but all that comes out are bitten hiccups of his name and yes and please please please.

Kishibe is more than happy to oblige, grunting and groaning in his throat, way past the point of feeling guilty that you’re losing your virginity on a goddamn couch, too caught up in your drunken slurs, more from pleasure than whiskey.

He grins as your fingers clench around his bicep, scrabbling as you gasp out, "Ohh, nngh—Sir wait, wait! Please I'm gonna—" 

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Kishihe groans, feeling the rippling constrictions of your sweet pussy drag him closer to the edge.

"No, I'm—I'm gonna pee! Please." 

Kishibe’s s head picks up off your chest immediately, and his thrusts stuffer. "Yeah?" You watch panting as his eyes sharpen, hips coming to a full blessed stop. You feel a bare moment of relief before its ripped away and he's moving again, fucking you a little faster than before. "Then go ahead." 

You give a wordless cry, shame and pleasure clamoring in the shrill note, your head shaking back and forth in denial. You can't hold it, not if he does that. 

"No?" Kishibe feels like the Devil himself as he shifts his angle into a grind, still fast and controlled, watching your features twist as you keep fighting to hold it back. "Am I not making you feel good?" 

"Sir!" Your whine draws the title out, panicked, but your knees dig tightly into his hips, your body at least betraying you. Kishibe works a hand under one of your thighs and presses it towards your chest. One of his palms drags down over your tits, stroking down your stomach to put a gentle pressure over your pelvis. Your eyes fly wide and a moan is forced from your lips as the awful urgency thickens, bliss flooding close to the surface. 

"If I press here you won't be able to stop it." 

Kishibe's stare catches your glazed eyes, dark and hungry. His orgasm is approaching steadily now, pleasure whispering selfish instruction in his ear, and he's unable to help but listen. "You'll come so hard it won't matter anymore. What's a little mess for some pleasure, hm sweetheart? If you want it just tell me." 

Your breath catches. His dick keeps hitting that spot in you that makes it impossible to think rationally. He's making you feel so good, goading you in that voice of his that you've worshipped fervently night after night in your apartment, a pillow as your altar. 

The voice in your head is screaming no. It's pee. He'll think you're disgusting and you look up to him so much. You don't want him to associate you with something like this, to so thoroughly debase yourself. But he's making you feel amazing, his cock bullying all your softest parts with undefinable experience. You've heard the gossip about how your mentor likes to spend his nights, but how are you supposed to complain when he's making you feel like this? And he's the one saying you can p— 

"Get outta yer fucking head and come for me, girl." Kishibe growls through his teeth, palm pressing down firmly, calloused thumb spreading over your neglected clit. 

You shatter and cry out, clutching at him tightly, no room for apologies as you tear red lines down his back. Warmth gushes against his pelvis, but the hot shame holds no candle to the blistering pleasure crackling across all your nerves. Listening to Kishibe groan and curse, the feel of him breaking down into something more genuine as his hips snap roughly into yours in chase of the bliss you’re already neck deep in, you’ve never felt more satisfied. He finishes inside you with a deep grunt and your insides flutter again at the milky warmth, your leg curling tight around his ass because you want all of it, you don’t want it to end yet.

But finally, his cock twitches one last time inside you and begins to soften, and Kishibe collapses on top of you with a little puff. You’re damn near ready to purr in happiness at the full weight of him across your body. His cheek rests between your breasts, but you’re unbothered by the scratch of his stubble as his breathing gets deeper, steadier.

Both of you are covered in sweat, cum, and other unspeakables but you’ve never been so comfortable. His softened cock slips out of you, and one of his arms slips under your waist and you feel your heart thud unevenly as he moves to his side and pulls you closer. His head is still buried in your chest, your one leg tangled between his thighs and your other draped over his hip. His eyes are closed, breathing deep and you find it in yourself to cautiously run your fingers through his hair. Kishibe gives a soft, sleepy rumble of contentment and you glow.

The feel of his hair between your fingers is the last thing you remember before the most luxurious drag of sleep tempts you into its clutch of darkness.

You wake somewhere you don’t recognize, your head thick and pounding awfully. You blink slowly in the low lighting and try to sit up, but your head spins and the pain increases so you let yourself fall back with a low whimper.

You turn on your side, fingers curling into the soft covers over you. Last night had been amazing, but you’re certain you had passed out on on the couch, and as you peer around the curtain-darkened room, it’s easy to tell it’s not the same. You don’t remember being moved; you’d like to say you would have woken up if someone had, but even you can smell the alcohol seeping from your pores. 

Heart pounding unevenly, you try to calm yourself. You’d been dressed in a soft pair of boxer briefs and a tshirt far too large for you, and while you still feel a little bit sticky, you honestly had expected far worse—someone had tried to clean you up. Your heart starts to race now, fluttering and far too fast at the idea of Kishibe taking care of you. Those are a lot of extra steps to take for someone who preached respectable distance. 

“There’s painkillers on the nightstand.”

You finally manage to sit up at the promise of pain relief, seeing the foil tablets and a glass of water, and glance at Kishibe in the doorway, looking about as disheveled as you expect you do. He’s in a loose tshirt and a soft, worn looking pair of sleep pants, blinking sleep and liquor from his eyes as he peers in at you. 

“I’m gonna shower, you should too. There’s towels in the bathroom there.” He nods his head deeper into your room and you see another doorway, probably leading to the bathroom. “And you’re out of luck on breakfast. All the place has is coffee and water.”

Your stomach gives a displeased turn at that, desperate for something to offset last night’s alcohol. Before you can say anything, not even so much as a thank you, Kishibe turns and shuffles down the hall. 

Slowly, you ease out of the bed and gratefully swallow down half the water before even glancing at the pills, but your screaming head does make sure you toss them back as well, before you peek down the hallway your mentor had disappeared down. You hear the sound of running water and follow it, wandering through the doorway to the room he obviously slept in last night, the bed an unkempt mess of blankets. The door to the bathroom is closed, and there’s already steam filtering through the gaps.

Letting an uncharacteristic determination carry you forward, you open the door and begin stripping off your clothes.

“Get out, sweetheart.” Kishibe’s voice sounds tired and distant, filling you with nerves that you refuse to let show on your face as you ignore him slip into the shower.

He’s working soap through his hair, leveling you with a deeply unimpressed look that would have sent you skittering before last night, before he called you his sweet little mess, before he called you good fucking girl. You take a deep breath and speak your mind.

"I want that again." 

His response is flat, immediate. "Not gonna happen." 

"Why not? Was it not good?" You look embarrassed and distraught at the thought and Kishibe heaves a sigh. 

"How good it was has nothin’ to do with why we can't do this again." 

“So you regret it?”

Kishibe isn’t sure where he stands on that yet. “Didn’t say that.”

"But then..." 

"But what? I told you this was a bad idea didn't I? You should've chosen someone else. Anyone other than me." 

You get a little salty at that. "I might be younger than you," Kishibe gives a sardonic huff "—but I'm still old enough to make decisions for myself." 

"Old enough to make your own decisions, huh." 

You shift under the water as he gives you a tired stare, his gaze sharpening into something more contemplative, glinting dangerously. 

"So you're saying you want that again?" Kishibe questions calmly. 

"Yes," you whisper, uncaring if it makes you sound desperate. 

"If we do I've got some stipulations," he warns, voice low.

"Like what," your breath hitches as he leans closer, the water getting hotter against your back as he reaches past you to adjust the temperature. 

"Well for starters," he grumbles, "I don't have any interest in going to your place. It's here or nothing." 

"Fine." Your response is immediate, relief coloring your tone that you're not being immediately shut out. 

"And this arrangement will be temporary, no matter how long it goes on," Kishibe continues slowly, his fingers coming up to pinch your lips together, cutting off whatever you were opening your mouth to say. "I'm not the kind of man that would treat ya like you're nothin'. I'm gonna tell you you're sexy when I've got you under me and I'm gonna clean up whatever mess I make of you, so I need to know you're not going to confuse common decency and respect with love, got it?" 

You nod slowly, struggling to wrap your mind around the weight of his words. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, you just want more of whatever you can get. It's just a crush, maybe you'll figure out how to squash your feelings somewhere down the line. So you get a little hurt along the way, so what? You're not entirely sure how any of that is a problem and why he looks so serious.

"Anything else?" He hasn't spoken for a minute, but you can still see deep thought etched into his expression.

Kishibe glances at you, soap dripping from his hair down his neck. "Yeah, one more thing."

It's the most damning thing. Makima herself would be proud of him for this. This kind of thing is more her style, but he's already made it this far. 

"Ya have to join the civilian sector."

He senses more than feels you stiffen behind him, closing his eyes and beginning to rinse his hair out as he waits for you to speak first. He's not blind, not anymore—after last night he'd really have to be to not understand the way you've been looking at him, probably since the beginning. Kishibe doesn't know how he didn't see it sooner, probably willful ignorance. But his eyes have been opened and he can't unsee it; you're a brat; you wear your heart on your sleeve, and for whatever reason…its flag is flying his colors. So he's going to use that, and you can thank him when you survive the year.

"Join the civilian sector?" Your voice trembles.

Kishibe glances down to see you chewing your lower lip. "Or quit. Find a cozy desk job somewhere. Either works."

"Why?" Your demand is fierce but it's weak; you look like a scruffy little kitten that needs shelter but too scared to come out of the rain. Kishibe can see you crumbling already, making his final stab. Why you'd want him this bad is beyond him, but dirty tactics have never been beneath him. 

"If we're doin’ this, you're going to be available to me when I want you. Otherwise I can find others, like I've been doing. Finish up in here, and I'll make some coffee. Might as well go to the office together."

Despair crosses your features, and Kishibe lets the silence do the last of the work, stepping out of the stream and reaching for a towel. He makes quick work of drying off and getting dressed, bones aching for coffee. Curiosity pangs deep in his nerves as he wonders why killing yourself in Public Safety is even worth that expression, and why he’s equally as important as whatever it is. He tries to put it out of his mind and fails, fingers tapping on the expensive countertop.

As the coffee percolates, Kishibe hears the water shut off and the mental image of you stepping out of his shower flickers through his mind, ghosting along the memories of the way you felt beneath him last night. He tries and fails to admit to himself he’s not coming out entirely on top in this situation.

When you finally slip into his kitchen, dressed in your crumpled uniform from last night, you’re no longer wearing that brokenhearted little face, and Kishibe braces himself for whatever little pep talk you managed to give yourself while he was gone. He pushes a mug towards you and the sugar he somehow found while he was waiting. 

“I have my own stipulations,” you grumble finally, accepting the mug without looking at him, spooning sugar into it. He wants to wince at the shriek of metal on glass as you stir, but he doesn’t.

“If I have to quit the hunter society to be ‘available to you’, then you have to be available to me.” Your eyes are a little heated as they finally meet his, and Kishibe gives a noncommittal hum. “Meaning you don’t get to sleep around. Just with me.”

Ah. Makima would be proud of you too, Kishibe muses to himself. He decides to let you feel that victory and puts on a show, feigning annoyance. He drums his fingers on the counter and gives you a dry, measured look. “What, sweetheart, want me to get tested or something?”

You rise to his bait, snapping a little. “Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“Fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee. “Maybe you should too, since you’re so worried about my health.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks at the thought of making that appointment, but you push through it. “Fine, I will. I’ll be needing to get on birth control anyways.” The barest hint of shock flickers through his expression before he slams it back to its usual tired smirk.

“Anything else?” He asks, sarcasm barely kissing the edge of his tone.

Your thoughts scramble to all the things you’d listed to yourself in the shower but with him looking at you like that, bemused, confident, smug, you forget most of them. You latch onto one thing and give him a glare. “I get a key. And I can sleep here whenever I want. I’m not waiting outside in the cold to be your booty call.”

Kishibe gives you a look and starts to pull a pen out of his jacket but changes his mind. He watches all the bravado and irritation drain from your expression as he steps into your space, melting into something else, something expectant, electric. He pretends he doesn’t see it, pretends that his blood doesn’t pick up at the sight of it, and whispers the passcode to the apartment, so close to your ear that he could bite it. Could.

He pulls back and listens to your shuddering exhale, tilting your chin towards him. “That’s for you only. I don’t give people access to my personal space, got it?”

You nod dumbly, eyes wide and body hot as his dark eyes flicker to your lips.

“Then I guess we gott’a deal, sweetheart.”

#kishibe x reader #kishibe smut #csm x reader #csm smut #chainsaw man x reader #chainsaw man smut

[jackiepackiee]

chuuya x fem reader where they cuddle n stuff and it's cute

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓃𝑜, 𝑜𝒷𝓋𝒾

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

Today’s shift was longer than expected for the both of you. Missions of gun fire and explosions of buildings that may or may not have been abandoned. Meetings with Mori about recent developments in companies that fronted the port mafia.

Like always, you and Chuuya saw each other at least once. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a shared lunch or some quality time in his office. Instead, it was you running down the hall to Mori with important information while he was strolling out the office.

He… well he missed you the entire day. And it only got worse… he had to do Akutugawas paperwork since he had gotten injured!

So, he texted you about an hour before end of shift.

Chuu <3

“Hey love, gonna be home a bit later tonight. Don’t worry about dinner, I know I won’t be hungry so late.”

Safe to say, your car ride home was lonely. The chauffeur even asking “Where is Mr. Nakahara?” When you entered alone.

You sighed, back against the leather and sank into a state of silence.

Feet in pain from missions, wrists cracking from the amount of writing. Your hair was probably a mess, lipstick on your collar from when you tugged at your shirt.

The car was smooth, luckily. A bump would’ve made your head spin.

You wanted two things. Chuuya, and your bed.

So when you finally unlocked that penthouse door, you practically flung off your shoes. Hoping you didn’t hit anything of importance.

First it was your belt, then your bottoms, than your top. At last your bra was off and you stumbled into the bedroom. A trail of discarded clothes behind you.

Instead of scavenging through your closet, you walked into Chuuya’s side.

It was mostly suits and buttons up, but a section was reserved for comfy clothes.

Picking out a simple t shirt he’d were on casual days, you put it on. Probably backwards, but that didn’t matter.

It still smelled like him, warm and safe.

You crashed into bed after turning off the house lights. Forgetting to close the curtains, the city neon illuminated the room blue, pink, green, and red.

Somehow, somewhere, you drifted off.

It wasn’t until you heard the creak of the bedroom door you woke up again.

Sky still as dark as space, neon still piercing your vision.

“Sweetheart… thank fucking god you’re home too.”

He didn’t bother to put on new clothes. The way you saw him was shirtless in some boxers. And god, if you weren’t so tired…

Never mind

He flipped back his hair before sitting in bed.

You pulled yourself closer to him, arms around his waist with your head on his lap.

“Missed you, princess.”

His heartbeat slowed, and his body calmed.

He slowly pet your head, running his hand to your cheek and using his thumb to draw circles.

He giggled, randomly to you.

“What?”

“Your shirt is backwards.”

Damn it, you knew it!

“Can I hold you? Not like this, but fully.”

All it took was your nod for him to hoist you up into his arms and maneuver you both into a laying position.

Your head on his chest, his arms around your waist.

This was a much easier way to hear his heartbeat. And gosh, was it relaxing.

Between the moments, your breathing synced. He kissed your forehead in the quiet.

So high up, no city sound was heard.

Then, he began to hum. A song that sounded to far away, but you could feel the rumble of his chest.

Each note making a different feeling in his skin to your head.

It was mindless, something he must’ve heard on the radio.

“I’ve missed this, I’m so happy you’re awake.”

He didn’t mind your silence, in fact he barely noticed it. His eyes were so focused on you, he likely would’ve seen lips moving without hearing them.

He was memorized.

Tired eyes covered by orange hair, and droopy eyelids from the exhausting life of Chuuya Nakahara.

But every night was a little easier with you around.

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x you

[siredtosturniolos]

First of all I’m sorry if this is the wrong place to send requests in. I’m new to tumblr so I have no clue how to use this platform 😭anyways I have a request I’m begging on hands and knees for a chris fic where reader is 18 and he’s 23. reader is a influencer (u can make up where they met) ENEMIES TO LOVERS KINDA and SMUTTTTTTT with praising (lots of praising and pet names) u can make up the whole story it should just be based off these things thank uuuu

Enemies

Paring: Chris Sturniolo x reader 

Summary: You had socially climbed the ladder to fame and gotten your very own spot on the Vidcon lineup. Freshly 18 meant you were fully able to go on your own, and meet some of your favorite content creators yourself. And Chris. You didn’t particularly like him, as he had been rude to you ever since you met him. You confront him and things turn a different direction than you thought.

Warnings: Smut! Praising, pet names, enemies to lovers(kinda? Maybe this means part 2?). Read at your own risk and mdni! (First pov) 

Authors note: thank you for requesting this! I hope you like it. <3

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Walking the halls of VidCon the day before the event took place really helped me ground myself. I couldn’t believe I was here, let alone someone thousands of fans wanted to meet. I started a YouTube channel in October of 2021, and it’s only gone up from there. Posting various forms of content such as vlogs, get ready with me, makeup tutorials, and even a couple cooking videos. 

I just hit 5 million subscribers, so on top of doing VidCon I was also hosting my own meet and greet the day after. I was hoping to make some connections and see if anyone would want to come celebrate this milestone with me. 

Even though I have been successful for a while now, I had just moved to LA last month. I’ve been to a party here and there, making a few friends along the way. I take a seat on a bench outside to soak up some sun, and so I can really reflect on what my life has become. 

Jake, Johnnie, and Tara are supposed to be here today as well and I couldn’t be more thankful. They had introduced me to so many of their friends in the last few weeks, most of them being welcoming.

Larray and I had clicked instantly and had hung out a few times, but he wasn’t set to be here this weekend. He had already made plans with other friends so he couldn’t come keep me company. He promised me that Nick Sturniolo would be down to let me hangout with him until I was comfortable, and I was super appreciative of that. 

Chris Sturniolo though? Not so much. I’ll never forget the way his eyes raked down my body, stopping at my chest for a moment before he looked back up at my face. 

“Hey baby, I don’t think we’ve met before?” 

I rolled my eyes at how corny he was, slightly drunk and incredibly stupid. Once he realized he wasn’t getting in my pants he had completely ignored me. I also met Nick and Matt later on, and they were absolute sweethearts. 

Ever since that night any time a fan would bring me up in a live stream of his, he’d ask them to either stop talking, or call me boring and move on to the next question. I had reached out to him asking him to stop, as his fanbase had jumped to my socials and started going insane. 

Every time I messaged him, he’d read it and not respond. Nick would occasionally bring me up in videos and it was clear as day Chris didn’t like me, and his fans made it known. Clipping it and tagging me thousands of times nearly made me delete TikTok all together. 

I had come to find out Chris was actually really nice to everyone, just not me. I’m not quite sure what I could’ve done to make him be so rude to me, but it’s not like I see him all the time. Maybe I’ll have a chance to speak to him in person, and make him really hear me out. 

“Y/N!” A voice called out to me, making me jump. I watched as Jake walked up to me, “Tara has been looking for you, yapping about getting ready for tonight.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders. 

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Tonight?” I ask, standing from the bench and letting him lead me to Tara. “They’re hosting a party tonight for us at the hotel apparently. Something to kick off the event? Fuck if I know.” Jake laughed. 

The next few hours flew by and before I knew it, Tara and I were letting loose and dancing to Just Dance by Lady Gaga. I had a few drinks in me, just enough to stop worrying about everything. Tara on the other hand, is gonna have a hangover from hell tomorrow. 

“I have to pee!” I yell to Tara as the song fades out, she nods and gives me two thumbs up before I begin to head towards the bathroom just outside the ballroom the party was in. 

Just as I’m about to enter I hear snickering behind me, making me turn around. I come face to face with none other than Chris. His eyes were burning into me, as he slowly approached, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“What are you laughing about?” I ask him, letting out a deep sigh.

He shakes his head, “You look ridiculous.” He states, like it’s a known fact. I glance down at my outfit, a simple black tube top and cargo camo pants. My black and white Nike’s were clean and uncreased, so what the hell was he talking about? 

I look back up to him as his 5’8 frame slightly towers over my own, “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” I calmly asked him, as surprise flooded his features. Apparently he wasn’t expecting me to call him out in person. 

He stood there for a second, staying silent as he didn't know what to say, “Oh so you just hate me for no reason? Nice.” I scoff, before turning around to enter the bathroom. I was stopped by a gentle grip on my arm, making me look over my shoulder at Chris. 

“Look, I don’t really know why I act like this, okay?” He sighs, dropping his hand as I turn to face him again, “Ever since I met you at that party, I just can’t get you off my mind.” He explains, taking a step closer to me. Now I can smell his cologne and I hate to admit that it’s doing something to me. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” He continues, making my eyebrow raise in curiosity, “When we locked eyes that night it felt different to me. It felt like more than just two people meeting for the first time.” He says quietly, looking me in my eyes so I knew he wasn’t lying, “It scared the shit out of me.” 

I start to smile slightly, making him roll his eyes, “Are you telling me you fell in love with me at first sight?” I tease him, making him throw his head back and groan. “Just stop being rude Chris, we could’ve been something this whole time you know?” I tell him, watching as his eyes meet my lips before looking away quickly. 

“Wanna make up for lost time?” He suggests, making me glance around the hallway we were in. There were a few people scattered around, but none of them were paying attention to us. I look up at him to see that sexy smirk on his lips, “Fuck it.” I shrug, before I drag him into the bathroom with me. I lock the door before I’m pushed up against it, Chris pressing kisses to my cheeks before going down my neck. 

I let out a soft moan, lifting my hands to slide them into Chris’ hair and tugging slightly as he found my sweet spot, “No marks please.” I plead him, feeling his tongue lather the area before he moves lower. His kisses get harsher the lower he gets, looking up at me slightly before he returns to his full height and slams his lips on mine. 

I moan into the kiss, the tension between us coming to a peak, “Jump.” He mumbles into my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist. I use his shoulders for stability as I jump and wrap my legs around his waist. He pulls back so he can walk me to the sink, and I waste no time trailing kisses down his neck. Chris sets me down on the counter and spreads my legs so he can stand in between them. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby.” He rasps, tilting his head back as I continue my assault on his neck. I make my way back up to his lips, taking him in for a split second before we kiss again. His hair is disheveled, his lips swollen from our kissing, and his eyes. They’re full of lust and determination, and I can’t help but try to clench my thighs. 

Chris smirks at me, playing with my top, “Can I take this off pretty girl?” He asks, to which I rapidly nod. Chris’ fingers slip underneath the fabric of my shirt briefly, before he snaps the band against my chest making me gasp. He wastes no time as he quickly takes it off, setting it somewhere behind me. His hands instantly cup my breasts, his lips slotted back onto mine. 

His large palms squeeze my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples making me let out a whine. I tug at his shirt and he pulls away to take it off, “Fucking incredible.” He mutters, letting his eyes fall onto my chest as I pant. He leans down, taking my nipple into his mouth, and my hand flies to the back of his head, arching my chest into his chest. 

“Fuck Chris.”  I moan, my hips bucking as that’s where I really want him. He switches sides, letting his hand trail down my body to pop open my pants, pulling away to look at me. “I’m about to ruin you, sweetheart.” He lowly speaks, making me bite my lip as I begin to help him remove my pants. I kicked off my shoes and Chris played with the band of my underwear. 

“Please Chris.” I beg him, already tired of his teasing. 

“Good girls say what they want.” He replies, using one hand to tease me through my damp underwear, the other dancing across my inner thighs. 

I let out a huff, “Please touch me.” I plead, reaching down to move his hand exactly where I want him, “Make me feel good.” 

Chris smirks at me, “Good girl.” I gasp as his hand suddenly slips lower, finally giving my body what it’s been craving for. His fingers collect my wetness, spreading it down to my opening, making my back arch with need. I open my mouth to beg him again but I’m cut off by him slipping a finger inside, his thumb connecting with my pulsating clit. 

“Chris!” I gasp, his fingers work mercilessly, the coil in my stomach already building. I let out whines and moans, already feeling fuzzy as he continues to work my body closer to my climax. 

“Look at me, baby.” Chris demands, making my eyes flutter open, “I want you to look at me as I make you cum.” He continues, working another finger inside my core. My jaw drops in a silent moan as his eyes bore into mine. I feel myself begin to clench around his fingers as he hits my sweet spot over and over. 

“There it is.” He smirks down at me, and half of me wants to tell him to stop, that the pleasure is too much. The other half of me wants to be greedy, and welcome the waves of ecstasy as they flow through my body. 

“Feels so good.” I whine out, watching the way Chris glances down at his fingers as they disappear inside of me, “So close.” I moan, feeling the coil twisting tighter and tighter.  

“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He asks me, and that's all it takes. The coil snaps and I fight to keep my eyes open as I release all over his fingers. Chris lets out a groan, mumbling praises left and right as I come down from my high. 

I’m still in a daze when he helps me off the counter and spins me around to face the mirror. He lifts his hand to my neck, tugging my body to be flush with his. I gasp as I feel his hard dick pressing against my ass, I didn’t even notice he took off his pants. 

“Gonna watch me while I fuck you, baby?” He asks, meeting my eyes in the mirror. I nod rapidly, “You look away once and I stop, got it?” Chris speaks, as he helps me bend forward and kicks my legs apart further for him. 

“Yes sir.” I reply, a small smirk on my lips as I back my ass further into him, making Chris grin. “Keep that up and you won’t make it to the event tomorrow.” 

He takes hold of his dick, running his head through my folds, bumping my clit making me whine. He pumps himself a few times before he’s teasing my entrance. I pout up at his reflection, arching my back even more to show how impatient I was. He takes that as a sign to slowly thrust into me, making my jaw drop at the burn from the stretch. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans, one hand resting on my hip, the other coming to hold onto my shoulder. He waits a moment before he begins thrusting, my body shaking each time he fills me up. “Feels so good.” Chris moans out, his hand leaving my hip to deliver a harsh smack to my ass, rubbing the now red area soothingly afterwards. 

At this point, I can’t even form words and of course Chris took notice, “Got my baby all fucked out already.” He states, smacking my ass again. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy.” He grunts out, his thrusts getting quicker and harder. 

My mouth hangs open in a silent moan, my eyes never leaving his. “Such a good girl, keeping your eyes on mine.” I feel the coil in my stomach reappear, and I can’t help but try to squirm away from Chris as the pleasure builds, “Don’t you fucking run away from me.” Chris spits, lowering both arms to grip my waist as he plows into me.

“T-Too much!” I finally whine out, clenching on him as his head nudges that sweet spot within my core. 

Chris shakes his head, “You can take it baby.” He lets out a rather loud moan before his thrusts start to get sloppy, “Be a good girl and take it.” He grunts out, sliding a hand to my front, quickly finding my clit and rubbing fast circles. 

My legs begin to shake, “I’m-” I’m cut off by a rather loud moan as Chris angles his hips upwards, bringing me even more pleasure. “Me too baby, fuck.” Chris moans, lowering his Chin to his chest as he watches himself slide in and out of me. 

“Cum with me.” He demands, my legs begin to shake as he meets my eyes as the coil within me finally snaps. I can feel myself pushing and pulling him in as I cum, and the feeling of his shooting out makes it all the more pleasurable. Chris finally halts his movements, staying buried inside. 

He gently pulls out, both of us wincing. He quickly cleans himself up and slides his pants back on before he turns to me. He rubs my cheek lovingly before he helps me clean up and get redressed. I quickly check my makeup and fix it, before turning to face him. 

“You’re staying with me tonight.” He states, holding out his hand for me to take. I take it with a smile on my face. 

“I planned on it.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo

[sunshine-theseus]

Always The One | Sam Kerr x Reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: you have a huge fight but she’ll always be the one for you.

Warnings: angst, sorta some fluff?

I’m not sure if it was because I was tired from my shift, or the fact I’d waited at the restaurant for over an hour and my girlfriend hadn’t bothered to show, that had my crying in Jessie’s apartment at 9:03pm on a Thursday night.

Jessie Fleming was possibly the sweetest person to ever walk the earth, and my closest friend.

“Still nothing from her?” she asks softly from the kitchen.

I let out a slow hum, indicating Sam had seemingly not noticed her girlfriend of 3 years was missing from their shared apartment on such an important date. Then I quickly check my phone again to make sure I haven’t unknowingly shut it off or somehow just missed a text or call from the woman.

“Well, you still have a spare uniform you left here a couple months ago if you need it for your shift tomorrow. But now, we eat ice cream and watch Fantastic Mr Fox until you fall asleep.” She plops down on the couch next to me with a pitying smile gracing her face.

“Wait. Before we do that.” I grab my purse from beside my feet and pull out two small items.

“Are you kidding me?! You’re fucking joking, you’re pulling my leg. Are you serious!” She rushes out questions before snatching the items to get a closer look.

“These are really real!?”

I chuckle at her, trying to stop the tears that are forming behind my eyes.

Sam and I had begun the IVF process a few months ago after some encouragement from Katrina, Sam’s national teammate, and I’d missed my period a few days ago so I took a test. I thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary. That, and the small black band with a simple diamond that sat snug in a red velvet box in my bag for three months now. But obviously she didn’t show, and I wasn’t sure what to do now.

“Yeah… they’re real. I wanted to propose and show her the test tonight. But, well, you know.” I start crying again before I can stop myself, and I’ve fallen asleep not long after Jessie starts playing with my hair.

~~~~~~~~~

Work the next day did not help take my mind off the events of last night. Being a paramedic was obviously a difficult job, but I hadn’t had this amount of bad luck on a shift in a long time, and the calls just seemed to keep getting worse.

Our first call was an elderly lady whose grandson had accidentally pushed her down her front steps, she’d hit her head pretty hard, and her knee was dislocated but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t fix and get her help for at the hospital.

Later in the day we’d gotten called to a collision on the A3 motorway, 2 women and their daughter in one car and a drunk man in a large truck. One of the mums had passed away before we’d gotten there, the other fractured her clavicle and some ribs and had a broken leg. The daughter had been knocked unconscious, a broken nose and arm and a fractured C5 and C6. The man got out with barely a scratch.

That’s when I had to take a break and try to call Sam. Holding the hand of the woman and her daughter became harder when I pictured Sam and our daughter in their place.

She didn’t answer. That call or the 3 others I made before I clocked off at 6pm, uniform stained with blood.

I’d zoned out the whole drive home. I wasn’t even sure I was heading home until I’d pulled into the driveway.

I also didn’t notice the now filled space where Sam’s car sat, or the dirty Airforce 1s by the front door that were missing when I’d left yesterday morning (I’d gone straight from my shift to the restaurant), and I didn’t notice the figure slouched on the couch watching the AFL game she’d clearly missed during training today, a beer already in hand.

I went straight to the shower to wash off the blood and cry. Then I got changed into an oversized jumper and shorts, avoiding any of Sam’s jumpers I’d usually curl up in after a hard day, sat on our bed and cried some more.

I don’t get to cry for too long before the bedroom door slams open and Sam beings to yell.

“When the fuck were you going to tell me!?” I just groan in response and cover my ears with a spare pillow, but she grabs it and stands in front of me, forcing me to look at her and the pregnancy test she held tight in her hands. I’d fucking forgot to throw the other ones out.

“When were you planning on fucking telling me this round had worked hmm? That we’re going to have a baby!?” I look my girlfriend in the eyes for the first time in 2 days.

“Last night. At the restaurant. You know… for our anniversary?” and I know it’s sick, but I found joy in the way her face dropped and realisation appears behind her eyes.

“Fuck Y/N! I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry I forgot. How did I forget??”

“I don���t know how you forgot Sam. I sent you a text after you left for training. And another during my lunch break at work. And right as I was heading to the restaurant. And I called, got Jessie to remind you too, which I know she did. How the fuck did you forget Sam?” I get up from the bed and approach her.

“I don’t know, I got carried away hanging with Mills and Guro, but for fuck’s sake drop the attitude.”

Dro- drop the attitude!? She cannot be serious.

“What was that?”

“Drop the attitude Y/N. I’m sorry I forgot but the condescending tone is unnecessary, you’ve forgotten shit too.”

“Yeah! I have! Like if it’s my turn to cook dinner or if you have a physio appointment. Not a fucking anniversary Sam!”

“And this isn’t just about the anniversary anymore. I called you four times during work today and you didn’t pick up. You didn’t think calling four times during work meant I might really need to speak to you? Because when I held the hands of a little girl who had to say goodbye to one of her mum’s and the other mum who had to say goodbye to her wife all I could think of was you and you didn’t answer once. And then I see you for the first time in nearly 48 hours and the first thing you wanted to do was yell at me instead of calmly asking? It’s too much.”

I start running my hands through my hair and pacing around the room. This can’t be happening. What the fuck is happening here? Before I can think about much more, I grab my work bag and start packing a uniform and some clothes.

“Wh- what are you doing? Oh come on you’re not leaving over a silly argument.” We’d made our way to the front door by now.

“No! I’m not! I’m leaving because you can’t seem to see why I’m so fucking upset over any of this Sam. And the fact you got so ‘carried away hanging with Millie and Guro’ to forget your 3-year anniversary and just ignore all my calls. I was really excited to share the test with you, have a family, I’m not really sure what to do about that now. Oh, and here, was going to give this to you too.” I slam the small velvet box down on the counter by the door before grabbing my work boots and rushing to my car.

I hear the door slam behind me, but no footsteps follow, so I hop in and drive to Jessie’s apartment once again.

~~~~~

I’m laying between Jessie and Erin, the latter of whom Jessie had begged to come over to try and make me smile after I’d been crying non-stop, when there’s a banging on the door.

“Jessss! I know Y/n’s there please let me talk to her.” The familiar Australian accent makes me tear up again.

Erin gets up instead of Jessie and tells us she’ll handle Sam, send her away somehow.

3rd pov

Erin opens the door to a very dishevelled Sam Kerr, who’s eyes are red, hair a mess, having finally been let out of the low ponytail so she could run hands through it in a panic.

“Ez. What are you doing here? Where’s Jessie, and Y/n?”

“Sorry Sam, Y/n isn’t here. Jess ‘n’ I decided to have a sleepover so she can take me to training tomorrow because my car’s in the shop.”

“Erin come on I’m serious, she wouldn’t go anywhere else except here.”

“I’m sorry mate I haven’t heard from or seen her since our game against Man City when she had the day off.” Sam let’s out an angered sigh but accepts the idea that maybe her girlfriend had run off to one of the other girls, seeing as most of her friends were Sam’s teammates, either from Chelsea or The Matildas.

“Yeah ok, um, let me know if you hear anything yeah? I really need to talk to her.” Sam’s hand shakes as she pats Erin’s shoulder before turning away, getting back into her car to try Kyra’s or Ann-Katrin and Jess’, both friendships that seemed so unlikely to Sam, yet were some of her girlfriend’s closest friends.

1st pov

I let out a breath of relief when Erin returns to us without a certain striker trailing behind her.

“Maybe you should talk to her. She might fucking crash in the state she’s in.” the thought makes me feel bad for a moment, but she shouldn’t be allowed off that easily.

“No, she’s stupid but not that stupid. And she deserves to worry for a moment.” It was probably really mean, but I refuse to believe she doesn’t deserve a taste of her own medicine.

~~~~~

It takes me 2 more days of her calling before I start to really miss Sam, and decide to head back to our apartment just to see if she’s there, because Jessie told me how she hadn’t shown up to training on Yesterday and she wasn’t on the pitch as I watch Chelsea verse West Ham on Jessie’s tv.

As I walk through the door, the only thing I hear are the tiny meows of our cat Helen, who runs up to me to rub against my legs. I missed her.

But then I start to look around and realise what a mess the place is. Beer bottles are spread across every room and there are takeout containers that clearly hadn’t been put away since they arrived, sitting on the coffee table in the lounge room. I walk further down the hall but trip of some random pair of sneakers. No more than two steps after that, glass crunches under my boots and I frown when I see a photo of Sam with the FA Cup I had taken after their win last season. It was my favourite picture of her in her Chelsea kit.

“Sammy?! Where are you?” my voice echoes throughout the space as I creep towards the bedroom.

As I pry open the door, I’m met with a sight that both warms and squeezes my heart. Sam is covered in blankets, snoring softly. Her eyes are puffy and there are both fresh and old tear stains running down her cheeks. She looked strangely angelic, peaceful. Like the girl I’m in love with.

When I pull the blankets back, I see her hugging the teddy I got for her to take on international breaks when I couldn’t make it, doused in my perfume. I’d got it for her on our 6-month anniversary, and it didn’t take her long to buy me one for when she went away. The same one that is currently sitting on our windowsill, seeming very lonely.

She’s dressed in only a sports bra and some checkered boxers she’s been obsessed with sleeping in, but doesn’t seem to have changed in the past 2 days.

Her eyes blink open as I softly shake her away, but once she catches sight of me, she bolts up-right and scrambles to hug me.

“Hey Sammy.” I’m too tired to be angry at her anymore. I just miss her.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so so sorry I was so horrible to you. I don’t deserve to be forgiven but I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am and how much I love you and this baby.” I then catch a glimpse of a ring, the ring, that is placed perfectly on her ring finger.

“Y- you’re wearing the ring?” and she doesn’t get a chance to reply before I’m kissing her.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you! I’m still mad at how you treated me.” I pull back to tell her before she can reciprocate the kiss.

She doesn’t meet my eyes but nods. “I’m so sorry, I love you so much and I want to show you that and show you how sorry I am.”

“I expect you to get me every single thing I crave in the next nine months and give me cuddles whenever I ask.”

Before she can I agree I add. “And that’s only for not letting me give me whole speech about how much I love you before I propose. There’s a lot more ground to cover for the other shit.” But I smile and kiss her again.

“I would have said yes before you could talk any way. Oh! And I have a surprise for you too. I was going to give it to you on our anniversary too.”

Sam gets up and rushes to the drawers, pulling out a familiar box.

“No fucking way were you going to propose on the same day.” She simply pulls out the ring and holds it out to me.

“Will you be my wife? If you say no I might actually drop dead.” I cry before anything else. But then I catch her looking at me expectantly and I just nod before hugging her tight.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you.” I whisper in her ear.

“I bags being the fun mumma!”

“Nooo way!”

“Yuh huh! You’re going to be the safety conscious one. You literally make me renew my first aid with you every single year. I’m definitely the fun one.” I groan but hug her tight. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

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

“SAM I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU ONCE THIS THING IS OUT OF ME HOW DID YOU CONVINCE ME TO DO THIS!?” I couldn’t tell you how long I’ve been in labour by now, but I’m sure Sam’s hand was about to break and everyone in the building could hear me swearing my head off.

“You’re almost there chickee, just a few more pushes I promse.”

“You said that last time and it was not just a few more pushes!”

Before either of us can say anything else I’m pushing again, and 6 minutes later, a baby’s cries fill the room, and Maeve Wren Kerr-Y/l/n joined her twin sister Charlie May Kerr/Y/l/n in their mothers arms.

When I look over at Sam, she’s smiling adoringly down at Charlie, and I see a tear run down her face.

“You’re so beautiful.” I reach to grab her hand while Maeve sleeps in my arms.

I don’t think I could love anyone, or anything more than I love Sam. In 8 months when we get married, I’ll look her in the eyes as we say ‘I do’ and I’ll know she was always going to be it for me. She’ll always be the one.

#woso x reader #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr #the matildas x reader #woso

[jolynesmom]

hey can u share ur void success story? Would love to see it

hii this is the storytime I promised about getting into the void first try <3

disclaimer: this post is long asf, I like being very detailed when talking about such stuff because you may never know which insignificant detail might help someone + I always liked when people would go into detail about shifting or the void state

this happened a few months ago. I’m a reality shifter and have been trying for around 4 years and never succeeded for more than a few seconds, so I got extremely burned out with the traditional methods

I decided to research about shifting on tumblr to see if the community is popular here as well (previously I’ve only researched about it on tiktok, reddit and a bit on youtube) and found a bit of general info about shifting, but what has gotten my attention was a person who got into the void state and instantly manifested their desires. I thought it looked a lot like shifting so I read some more

I knew a tiny bit about the void state from shifttok, but I’ve never been interested to learn more until that point. the og post said that they specifically reached the void state by doing yoga nidra so I thought it was a requirement for the void at that point. I didn’t know what yoga nidra was, so I sent the person a message asking about it and went about my day deciding I’m giving up on traditional methods and will start to work with the void state

for some reason I didn’t research any further that day (probably because I was burnt out by my shifting attempt the night before and didn’t feel like ingesting more information)

at night I decided to try to shift again. I drank blue lotus tea and put on a guided meditation. after 10 minutes I get bored and switched the meditation for white, brown and pink noises and fell asleep saying affirmations

I got woken up by my alarm at around 10 a.m. (I didn’t shift) and I tried to get out of bed to really woke up, but I ended up falling asleep until 11:30 a.m. when I got woken up again by my loud parents getting ready for work, so I tried to play on my phone to get more lucid and not fall asleep again because I didn't feel like getting out of bed, but I also didn't want to continue sleeping. my eyes were practically closing by themselves atp, but I went on tumblr and saw the person I messaged the night before answered my message and said they'll post a guide one of these days. after thanking them I closed my eyes again thinking of the void state. I remember saying to myself something like “I really want to get into the void, I can’t wait for the guide so I can do yoga nidra”

for the next hour I fell asleep for 10 minutes then woke up for 1-3 minutes at least 3 times (I was very tired, probably because of the previous shifting attempt) and my thoughts were completely blank;

at some point I find myself in my kitchen trying to make coffee and I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or not because the dream was very clear and I usually make coffee after getting out of bed so I thought I had finally woken up

I noticed the jar of instant coffee was almost empty and I asked myself "why is it almost empty, I bought a new jar yesterday" (I finished my jar yesterday and wanted to buy a new one today btw), then when I went pick up the jar I was instantly hit with the realization that I was lucid dreaming, so not even a second later I threw myself to the ground in a crisscross position to allow myself to fall through the floor and shift to my dr

when I hit the ground I closed my eyes and stated my intention of wanting to shift to my jujutsu kaisen dr, but I didn’t even get to finish my intention when I felt myself being pulled through the floor in an infinite dark void; I realized I entered the void state

I was calm, but really wanted to get to my dr, so I started affirming and visualizing. I felt myself being pulled again through the void, a bit lower, before stopping again

I got annoyed and started thinking of my dr again then started hearing a voice; I listened for a bit then realized I was hearing an argument between yuuji and megumi. I didn't understand because they were talking in japanese, but at the same time I understood the message?? they were arguing about how to exorcise a curse or something like that

the weird thing about their voices is that when I dream, lucid dream, visualize or make up scenarios, all the voices are quiet and muffled in the distance and the tone never changes, but the voices I was hearing were loud and clear as if I was next to them, which has NEVER happened to me before. I think I literally stood there frozen for 15 seconds because of how loud and real (?) their voices sounded

anyways

I was getting annoyed because I kept getting distracted and started saying affirmations and trying to imagine where I wanted to wake up. I couldn't feel my body the whole time, I was pure conciseness.

I told myself that as long as I shift, I don't care where I end up, then suddenly I started to hear more voices including a girl's voice (they were most probably people from other drs of mine).

I got confused and a bit alarmed, so I asked out loud what do I have to do to shift. suddenly all the voices got muffled and a man with a lower voice started talking to me in english. I didn't know who that was and I got confused, but tried my best to follow his instructions. I started to hear noises from my cr (the cars passing my apartment as I live in a noisy area) but tried not to wake up. because of the noises I woke up and suddenly I was in my room again. I panicked but didn’t open my eyes or move my body (I could semi-feel my body, but it was mostly asleep) and literally yelled in my mind ‘I want to get back into the void!!’ suddenly I’m in the void again, this time I didn’t feel the falling sensation, it was instant

back into the void I saw nothing was working I decided to shift to my waiting room because I remembered someone once saying that a waiting room is some kind of parallel located between your cr and other realities and this is why it can be easier to shift there. I intended to shift to my waiting room then felt how my body got pulled lower into the void again, then it suddenly stopped when I heard my phone buzzing in my cr because of a notification

I got extremely frustrated and decided to fully wake up

I woke up at around 1:20 p.m. and was very happy with what I just went through.

thinking about the last voice for a bit, I initially thought it was gojo, but it sounded too different to be him, plus the man was talking in english, so I figured it could've been zhongli from my genshin dr since I scripted english is an universal language in teyvat, but then I thought it was weird that he responded since I'm not very close to him in my dr, but after some more thinking I realized that we're actually connected in my dr so it kinda makes sense to be him, but I'm still not 100% sure, I'm only sure about hearing yuuji and megumi arguing

it took me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that when I was in the void and said I want to shift to my dr and started falling then stopped and I heard yuuji and megumi, I was actually in my dr and I just needed to wake up. I thought I would get woken up instantly just like with shifting methods, but I actually had to wake myself up from the void. my information was very limited because, like I said in the beginning, I only read one or two posts about the void state beforehand

it would also make sense to hear yuuji and megumi first thing before waking up in my dr, because I scripted that when they go in the school to get sukuna’s finger, I would be asleep in one of the offices (don’t ask) and will witness the whole thing

I think the way I got into the void is an actual method; I forgot the name of it but it might’ve been the phrase method, I’m not too sure

it also shows you don’t have to have a perfect mindset as I thought I can’t possibly get into the void until I do yoga nidra for a few days, so all you need is intention and an alternate state of consciousness

additional things (you can totally skip this if you want to)

after I got into the void state that day, I continued practicing the void state and I almost got into it at least 15 times, but instead of doing it via a lucid dream, I used the lullaby and distraction methods because I have a hard time lucid dreaming. every time I would be pulled into the void with these methods I would instantly think of my cr or get impatient and be immediately be pulled out, so I’m working on that and on how to lucid dream more often

I think I’m getting close into reaching the void again, because I’ve been working on meditation and started teaching my subconscious mind not to think of my cr while going into the void state.

the months of march and april were literally stagnant for me with no little to no success because I strongly believe I got the evil eye or something like that. at the end of february I went back to my home country (which is in eastern europe) to attend my cousin’s 18th birthday and I think I might have been cursed by one of the old ladies attending. I would always get the evil eye by them as a kid, but my grandma would usually remove it for me

my manifestations stopped and I couldn’t reach the void again but I thought it was because of work and uni related stress, but then it hit me it might be something else because I literally never had issues with my manifestations but suddenly I couldn’t manifest anything anymore, so I performed a cleanse and now I’m back again manifesting like it’s my job

a few nights ago I tried to get into the void, after like 8 minutes of meditation my body fell asleep while my mind was awake and I could’ve entered the void, but I sabotaged myself because I told myself I needed to go to sleep asap because I need to wake up in 3 hours for work so I moved around a bit and went to sleep

anyways, I’ll try to get into the void again and keep y’all updated. next month I go back to my home country where is peace and quiet so I think I’ll have a better time without stressing about uni, work or the noisy area I live in

#reality shifting #shifting #desired reality #law of assumption #void state #void #void success #void succes story #manifestation #void concept

[streetwnoname]

Hi There! I hope your doing great today, could I request a m!reader x Tyler Galpin? Something soft for the heart <3 I have no idea why I have it so down bad for this man please send help

coffee shop cutie

tyler galpin x m!reader

this might be bad but oh well

you sighed, tired of the dehumanizing stares from the people of jericho. you weren’t even in your nevermore uniform, but you still stuck out like a sore thumb. you hated being in jericho, but you loved going to the weathervane. you loved the coffee shop for one reason: the cute barista. he always watched you as you sat and drank your coffee, and he’d get so flustered when you’d catch him staring.

you approached the counter, ringing the bell so that you could place your order. you smiled as you saw the barista emerge from the back. “hey! it’s you again, welcome back…you want the usual?” he asked, happy to see you. “yeah, that’d be great.” you said, sliding cash across the counter. he took it and immediately went to retrieve your change. you reached out to take your change, feeling butterflies in your stomach as your fingers brushed his. he froze for a second, getting flustered due to the contact. he stayed like that for a second before snapping out of it, “oh! sorry, i’ll go make your drink…” he quickly got to work as you took a seat, watching him closely.

within a few minutes, he had made your drink and was placing it infront of you. you thanked him, but instead of walking away, he sat across from you. raising an eyebrow, you asked, “what’re you doing? shouldn’t you be working?”

“i’m just spending some time with my favorite customer…besides, it’s a slow day, i’ve got nothing else to do.” he responded, propping his head up with his hand as he watched you take a sip of your drink.

“aw, i’m your favorite customer?” you teased, watching him blush in response.

“well, uh, i just think you’re super handsome…” he laughed nervously, too flustered to look at you. you grinned, moving to sit next to him.

“you’re handsome too, whatever your name is.” you reply.

“uh, tyler, my name’s tyler,” he said, “what’s yours?”

“y/n. so, tyler, would you wanna go on a date with your favorite customer some time?”

he looked up at you, “really? i mean, yeah, of course!” he nodded.

“sounds good,” you said, checking the time. “oh, it’s almost my curfew, i need to get going.” you sigh and get up, but not before kissing tyler’s cheek. he smiled to himself as he watched you exit the coffee shop, placing a hand over where you had kissed him. he was totally blissed out, celebrating his upcoming date in his head…until he realized he hadn’t gotten your number.

#male reader #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin x male reader #wednesday x reader

[ada7201]

Hii! It's the anon that requested for the Layla reader. How are you doing? Hope you feel good! Can I ask for a part 2 of the Layla reader? You pictured her spot on! I want it to be with the other players like shidou or rin and maybe Kaiser and ness (only if you want ofc!) Not forcing any of this so do it at your own pace but it would really make my day if you would! :)

hi! i’d love to do this for you, im sorry i didn’t add all the characters you wanted before and i’m glad i was able to write the character good. im doing good, and thank you!

also, i had no idea how to include kaiser and ness into this but still wanted to write for them, i’ve decided to split this into 2 parts. so i’ll write part 3 a little later (≧∀≦)

༄ part 1 ༄ part 2 ༄ part 3 on the way

bllk boys x sleepy reader, like layla!

Shidou and Rin edition

𖣘 part 1 𖣘 part 2 𖣘 part 3 on the way!

note: end is a bit rushed. i wanted to finish this quickly, and had like no ideas. characters might be ooc. next part might come out in a day depending on how many ideas I get. also, im going somewhere tomorrow so i might not have that much time to write. ( ´△｀) but, i promise im working hard on finishing everyone’s requests!

i love seeing you guys ask for stuff, so don’t be afraid to request things, please（╹◡╹）♡

“where’s y/n?!”

“sleeping.”

“again?”

Rin sighed, yes, you were sleeping again. he shot a glare to the player, before looking back at the screen. he had to watch this match.

you were fast asleep in the cafeteria, after a long night of drawing on a notebook that was supposed to be for becoming a better striker.

it’s not your fault that you got bored, right?

“who’s that girl?” Shidou would hum to himself, taking long strides over to where your body was folded onto the table.

that looked pretty uncomfortable.

so, being the kind man he is, Shidou decided to pick you up roughly and throw you over his shoulder!

your eyes had prominent eye bags, and you seemed sick. it would be the right thing to do!

you gasped at being woken up, and quite literally manhandled onto someone’s shoulder.

“what do you think you’re doing?!” you’d screen to the unknown man, thrashing around.

well, you’re quite lively now, aren’t you?

“you’re sick.” he grins, patting your leg “soothingly” as if he wasn’t basically abducting you.

when he finally let you go, you were quick to get back your team’s room.

“hello y/n.” Rin would say, sharp eyes still glued to the screen like some sort of phone addict.

he had gotten used to you appearing in the room at sudden times.

today was one of the typical break days you had at blue lock, where you all are granted a sweet day of freedom.

not many stayed at blue lock, with the majority of the players choosing to get outside and breathe some fresh air, experiencing the outside world.

although, you don’t usually get picked up by some random tall man in the middle of your nap.

moving on, you sat beside Rin to peer down at his screen, looking for something to distract you.

the day went by pretty fast, unfortunately - and night soon fell.

Rin had decided to go to bed, saying he needed to rest because there was a match coming up.

he was a bit skeptical with letting you stay awake, but he decided on simply allowing you to.

he wasn’t in the middle to argue with you, anyways.

for the rest of the night, you played around with the screen, somehow managing to change the channel and catch up on your favorite show.

that was, until Ego hacked back in and glared at you.

you couldn’t tell what his motive was, as he simply eyes you either his slim fingers laced together.

you stared back, raising a questioning eyebrow at his creepy gaze.

“what are you doing.” he asked, voice low.

“nothing.” you respond, hoping he’d buy your lie.

“go to fucking sleep, y/n.” was all he said, before the screen shut off.

aw, you were just getting to the good part of your show, what a shame.

however, you did as he said, deciding sleeping would be a better option than loosing your soccer career.

you cuddled yourself back into the sheets, eyes shutting soon after.

the morning came soon after, with you being awoken by the sound of … someone yelling, and a monotone voice?

“come on, let me see her!” Shidou would plead, eyes begging as he stood in the doorway.

Rin simply shook his head, folding his arms as he stood in the way on the blonde male.

“what’s up?” you’d mumble, voice hoarse and scratchy from your sudden wake.

“aw, helloooo!” Shidou would coo, a toothy grin on his face as he pushed past Rin to hug you.

“you still look as sick as ever!” he giggled.

“excuse me?!”

Rin sighed. “what time did you sleep, y/n?”

“um… 3, maybe?” you hum curiously, ignoring the way Shidou squished and pet your body as if you were a stuffed toy.

a sick stuffed toy?

“3?” Rin asks, eyes narrowing menacingly.

you gulp.

“blonde hair, run!” you squeal, and Shidou quickly obeys.

he rushed out of the door, hugging you right as Rin chased after the two of you.

#bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock #bllk #bllk x y/n #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x you #rin itoshi x reader #bllk shidou #shidou x reader #shidou ryusei #blue lock rin itoshi #rin x you #rin itoshi #rin x reader

[lunajay33]

Just Us🩶Part.4

Summary: In a world full of walkers y/n was able to escape with her best friend, but maybe that friendship turns into something more

Pairing: Carl Grimes x f!reader

A/n: This story starts when the group is on the road after Terminus but I’m gonna make y/n and Carl 18 just to speed along the story!! This is also my first Carl Grimes series! This story includes 18+ scenes, pregnancy and more

Part.3

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since Carl and I took our relationship to the next level, we tried to find private times to fool around but with Daryl and Rick watching our every move like hawks it was kinda hard but it wasn’t that big of a deal at the moment as I felt like a I got hit by a train

I sat up in bed seeing Carl fast asleep, I know he’s barely gotten any sleep lately so I left him be, I felt really hot and my stomach started to turn so I got up quickly and went to the bathroom across the hall just in time to throw up in the toilet

Then I felt my hair being pulled back and a cold cloth against my forehead, I sat back against the wall after throwing up all I had in my stomach which wasn’t a lot

“Baby are you okay?” Carl asked as he continued to pat my face helping me cool down

“I don’t know, must have just been something I ate” I said weakly seeing how worried he is

“Come on let’s get you to bed” he said as he helped me up and tucked me back into bed laying next to me

“Can I get you anything?” He asked brushing my hair back

“No just…..stay with me”

“Of course” he laid with me for another hour until the sun started to rise and the light was pouring through the window

He groaned as he sat up putting his hat on from the night stand, I always thought he was so handsome with it

“Wanna go get some breakfast?” He asked smiling down at me

“Ya I should probably get some food in me” I said still a little groggy

We went downstairs and sat with Daryl Rick Michonne and Judith

“You guys are up early” Rick said as Carl put some berries and toast on my plate

“Ya I got sick last night so I didn’t really sleep all that well”

Carl picked up a sausage and the smell of it came across me and I was instantly sick again, I got up and went to the kitchen sink dry heaving since my stomach was empty, it hurt but then I felt a hand rubbing my back

“It’s okay, just breath” he said as a few tears dropped into the sink, it always happened when I was sick and I was glad Carl was there with me

“What’s wrong with her?” Michonne asked coming over to help same with Daryl

“I don’t know we should take you to the doctor” Carl said as he led me to the door, but before we left I stopped and turned back to look at them

“Daryl……will you come with us……please” I asked nervously, I knew he wasn’t really one for emotions but he always made me feel protected, so having both of them there would help

“ ‘course” he grumbled as he picked up his crossbow at the doorway and left with us

Daryl stood in the corner while I waited in the bed with Carl standing beside me as we waiting for the doctor, Denise was new but she was smart

“Y/n what can I help you with today?” She asked as she came from the back office

“I’ve been throwing up recently, certain smell upsets my stomach, I don’t know maybe it was something I ate but Carl wanted to be sure” I said leaning my head against his chest

“Hmmm, this might be personal but it’s all to get to the bottom of the problem okay?”

“Okay that’s fine”

“Have your breasts been tender?”

“A little yeah but it usually happens before my period” being starved and out of the road I wasn’t regular so I wasn’t really sure when my period was suppose to come it was all over the place now

“Have you been having some headaches?”

“A little”

“And have you been……..having sexual temptations lately more than often?” She asked clearing her throat, my face was getting really hot and I could see Daryl’s obvious discomfort

“Definitely” Carl answered for me laughing at my shyness

“Well it seems like you’re checking all the boxes off, have you both been intimate lately?”

“Yes” we answered at the same time

“I think you’re pregnant” my heart dropped I looked up at Carl but he had a smile on his face

“Why are you smiling?”

“If I’m gonna have a baby I’m glad it’s with you and we are in a safe place, plus I’ve dreamed of this for a long time” he said kissing my forehead

The three of us left walking back to the house

“I’m sorry dad…..I MEAN DARYL” he stopped and turned to me Carl holding my side

“I ain’t mad sunshine, just worried”

“I’m scared too” my heart was still pounding from the news

They both looked at me with sad expressions

“I’m really scared” I said breaking into tears covering my face embarrassed from being so emotional but it was true after Lori I was scared I’d never get to see the baby and I’d leave Carl alone

“Hey you’ll be okay baby, we’ve got the doctor and supplies and you have all of us now, I promise” Carl said holding my shoulders reassuringly

“Yeah, we got ya sunshine, ya ain’t alone” Daryl helped reassure me as well, as we started walking back to the house again

Carl and I sat down in my room and just took in the fact that we were really having a baby together, a little baby that was both me and Carl

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” I asked starting to warm up to the idea

“Hmm I don’t mind, but I’d love them to look like you, they’d be so cute” he said placing his hand on my still flat stomach

“No I think they’d be even cuter if they looked like you, blue eyes and pretty brown hair with little freckles” I said as I lightly traced my fingers over his freckles and I could see him share to blush

“I’m happy either way as long as I get to have this baby with you and start a family” he said smiling and it made my heart flutter

“How do we tell your dad, he’s gonna be so mad”

“I don’t think he will, I think he’ll be the same as Daryl hopefully”

Part.5<-

Ooooooooo how will Rick react??

Taglist: @carlsdarling @eiirqgi

#twd fanfiction #carl grimes series #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes smut #carl grimes fic #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes fanfiction #twd carl #carl grimes #carl grimes x you #twd fic #the walking dead series

[thebestofoneshots]

WOLFSTAR X READER SERIES

Gilded Constellations | THE INTERLUDE

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Hey Lovelies, welcome to “The Interlude” of Gilded Constellations. We’ve basically already gotten to 100 k words in this story and that’s absolutely insane!!! Which is why I thought of doing a little thing where I could interact with my readers. As a thank you for being there and supporting me so much through this journey. 

And so… this little Q&A was born. Those who didn't get to ask their questions, don’t worry my darlings, my ask will be open all week for you to ask whatever you want. It’s a mini event that will last from today ‘till next wednesday. 

But yes, it does mean this week we won’t get a new chapter D: 

Don’t worry, it will definitely be worth it since the next couple of episodes are two that I’ve put absolute extra care on crafting, and I will put just as much care on revising. I’ve been quite literally posting non stop for 15 weeks consecutively. That’s almost 4 months, what?!?! 

I needed my tiny lil break, besides I wanted to dedicate this bit of time to work on my Maraudween Special smutty series that will include some interesting mini AUs, so those that read my other stuff and not just Gilded Constellations will be quite literally treated this Halloween. There will be a lot of posts these next few weeks. Although, I might be releasing some of the Maraudween stories at the beginning of November. Unfortunately, I’m not a machine and I can’t write in seconds like Chat GPT. 

Without further ado, let’s get on with those questions!

Where did you get the inspo for the fic?

Oh my god if I tell you guys about this… It all started when I was in class, sometimes when I’m bored, my little mind starts to wander. I’m a total daydreamer, I can’t deny that, but at that moment in particular I was quite literally thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. And then, out of nowhere, this phrase came to me: 

“You look at them the same way you looked at me when we met…” 

And I was like, “omg that’s so freaking angsty” and “That’s a great freaking line for a poly story” And I quite literally wrote it down with a little tag that said, “-the start of a poly relationship story because I’ve never read enough of those.” 

And then I closed the notebook and went back to class. But I guess the idea had already set in my brain because next thing I know, I’m writing down more things down. And let me tell you, before Gilded Constellations I only wrote Oneshots because a story seemed like too much commitment. So I kid you not, I wrote down: 

“Not a short story, but maybe a 3-5 chapter long fic”. 

Jokes on me though, we’re 15 chapters in, like 20-something written and we’re probably going to end up with longer than 200k words and I’m not even sorry about it. Besides, I'm really pumped to finish it because I want to get it printed in Lulu and have my own little copy as a “Damn you wrote that.” kind of evidence thing. So worry not about being left with an unfinished fic, I’m going to complete this story even if it’s the last thing I do. 

Besides, if I’m being honest, when I’m not writing, I miss my boys, so I’ll definitely miss passing the time with them when I’m done with GC. (Luckily I’ve already got another series planned and spoiler alert: This one will be Poly!Marauders x reader, a lot spicier aaaand, PIRATES.) 

That’s how the fic started, well that and a dream that was basically most of Chapter 3 and I thought it was so cute that I wrote it down and then I was like, “hold up, this could be the start of the Poly story I was talking about…” 

Are there any real-life experiences that influenced your writing?

Well I mean, I’d say that art imitates life and life imitates art, but in regards to real-life romance I don’t really know that much. But there are definitely some things here and there that have been sprinkled from my real life into the fic. Not sure if I could think of a particular one but I can say sometimes Remus gives me the same vibe that a boy I “used to” have a crush on. “Used to” in quotation marks because I kinda still do even if we haven’t seen each other in years. 

So I guess a lot of Remus comes from my crush, but also Remus is his own little boy as well and I love him more for it. Even If I’m torturing him so much with his heartache, I promise it will be worth it Remus, reader and Sirius will take care of you, eventually. 

Other than that, I guess I like to pay attention to things around me, you’ll see me looking at nature, the sky, the way leaves move, the way people interact with each other. Especially at that actually, I like to pay attention to people, how they move, how they interact, and their reactions. Sometimes I do it irl, and sometimes I just watch movies or series, and since my writing process is like seeing a movie in my head and then putting it into words, it’s always useful to pay attention to the world around me. Even if I sometimes struggle to put into words exactly what I’m seeing in my head.  

Did you already have everything planned, or did you just go with the flow? If you have already, how far? all of it? Or just some chapters ahead? 

Well, yes and no. I do have various key points of the story planned, a lot of plot points that are going to happen and that’s kinda what I’m sustaining myself on. I know the big points and then I just have to write what happens in between them. And I’ve got it planned all the way ‘till my babes all start dating. After that, if I’m honest I’m not sure how I’m going to end it. Some parts of me want to go for the saddest ending possible because it would go along with cannon and the other side of me, the one that can’t bear to see my boys being sad, wants to just deviate completely and/or leave an open ending. 

But so far, I really cannot tell what exactly I’m going to do, I just know that time will tell. Because sometimes the characters just do what they want and I love to see where they take me. Which is why the ending is not set in stone just yet. 

Without giving too many spoilers, can you tease upcoming plot twists or surprises we can expect in future chapters?

My sly little foxes have already guessed some of the major plot twists that are upcoming in the story. And there definitely will come some surprises along the way, some you will love, some you won’t so much. But I promise you it will all be worth it! 

Remember in Gilded Constellations, everything happens for a reason. 

THE FANCAST

What's your fancast for the fic? Did you pick the reader too or just leave it be? //  I wanted to know if you have a fancast for everyone…

I did mention that I basically see stuff as a movie in my head right? So yes, I do have a fancast! Although I most definitely see James as Aaron, Sirius as Ben, Remus as Andrew and Peter as Dane, I have also twisted them in my brain. Like it’s them, right? But my version of them. Like my Sirius is so fucking ethereal in my head that sometimes I myself blush with his beauty. And Remus, well, he is probably most similar to Talita Asami’s from instagram. Especially this one. 

There’s something about the way she contrasts his soft features with the scars that’s just perfect. It’s that sexy pirate vibe I cannot get out of my head, if that makes sense.  But also I’ve been toying with AI lately (Talkie) and ended up with these two versions of Remus and Sirius and they have absolutely taken over. 

Sidenote: I made way to many of these, so do tell me if you wanna see them.

The reader: Uhm… well, I kind of just see her as me, hehe. Which is kind of the point, you should all just see the reader as yourselves, if you’re comfortable with that of course. 

The rest of our babies though? Lily Evans, Marlene and Mary, are kind of like the boys as in I see them as their fancast but also not entirely. And Lily especially, she’s just so freaking pretty in my head, there’s no one I know to match her, all thought Sophie Skelton and Kennedy Walsh (@/c4tluvr666 on Tiktok) are super close. 

Now, outside of canon characters, aka all of these OC’s I’ve been creating with time, some of them do have a fancast and some of them don’t. Let’s focus on the ones that do, because some of them I literally had in my head since the very, very beginning of the fic. 

Tom Harrow- This boy actually started as a younger version of Tom Hiddleston in my head, but the more I wrote him, the more he said, “Luv, that’s not what I look like!” And, almost out of nowhere, baby Tom Hiddleston became Rober Sheehan, and let me tell you, it stuck. And it stuck so bad there is no way I could see Tom as anything other than Rob. Especially with his role as Klaus in Umbrella Academy having a rather similar personality in the entire open-minded spectrum that he’s got going on. And, talking about teasers, this boy is actually going to be a key point on the romance between our golden throuple to develop, so keep an eye out for him. I love him so much tbh.  

Then we’ve got Beth Doxon, this girl is my wifey, I freaking love Beth so much and if you’ve been paying attention you may already know who I based her off, at least in looks. It’s Anya Taylor Joy as Beth Harmon in Queen’s Gambit, redhead queen (can you tell I really, really like redheads?) . Also that’s why she has such a strong character, even if my Beth is a lot more of a Party Animal than the original character. 

Alexander Wood in my head is just a carbon copy of his son Oliver, but in Hufflepuff, and the rest of the Quidditch teams, I’ve got a good idea of what they look like in my head, but not really a fan cast for them. Suggestions accepted. 

Well, except for Minho Yun, since his role in the story is going to be as a pretty strong supporting character, in fact, he was meant to be somewhat of an alt love interest that was going to help build Sirius’ jealousy, but in the end, I decided to completely scrap that to further develop him as a character. Some interesting things that you’ll actually learn on the GC Halloween special. Oh, and Minho is actually based on Sang Heon Lee (on looks) and Ki Hong Lee (on character, specifically on his role in Maze Runner). Had I based Minho on the character of Sang Heon Lee who inspired him, we would have way too many slutty boys in the same room, with Tom and Sirius and him, It’d be chaos, which is why he ended up being a little shier. 

Nox, Neil and Todd, literally are just Nox, Neil and Tod from De*d Poets Society. I was rewatching the movie to nail that boy friend group interactions and to get in the Dark Academia Vibes and I wanted to give my boys a happy ending. 

Also Neil just gives me the most massive Prongs vibe I cannot.

And lastly, there’s Nina Blythe. Nina to me is a totally angelic girl, I’ve got a very vivid picture of what she looks like in my head but I don’t really have a fancast for her. Maybe a little bit like Aurora (the singer), in regards to her soft features, but Nina has longer hair and it’s a little wavy. I kind of think of her as a girl from a Renaissance painting, emphasis on girl, since she is supposed to look younger than she is. Any ideas for a fancast? For her and for anyone I missed, I’m completely open to your suggestions. 

THE TEACHERS

Professor Nightshade is definitely Eva Green from Miss Peregrine or Jessica Chastain from Crimson Peak. She’s got that tall,  regal and dark but elegant vibe to her that is just so freaking gorgeous and awe-inspiring. I totally have a crush on Seraphina, can you tell? 

Professor Aurelius Spellman is kind of inspired by Kingsley Shackelbolt. However, if I had to cast someone for the role it would be Djimon Hounsou, he has that attractive and rough vibe to him. Like scary, demanding but also alluring things going on, he’s just got the magician type I suppose. 

This one’s going to be silly, but I can’t imagine Kettleburn as anyone other than Gobber the Belch from HTTYD, like, take away the horned helmet and give him a pointy hat, and boom, Kettleburn ladies and gentlemen. Down to the messy personality, honestly. 

And Donovan Pendragon (the teacher for Magical Theory) I feel like he isn’t mentioned enough, because I literally had no idea what his name was even going to be and I just left a line for it until I was editing the chapter before posting. So he doesn’t really have a cast. He’s caucasian in my head, but that’s about all I’ve got from him. Any ideas? 

Do you have any headcanons for any of the characters and their relationship that you haven’t talked about in the story? 

REMUS: Well I feel like this one has been talked about several times in the story but Remus being a beast in bed? I feel like everyone loves to tease him about it in the castle but to me, he’s also a total soft boy? Like especially the first time, I feel like he’s going to be so overwhelmed by both Sirius and Reader that he will basically just melt in the hands of his lovers. 

SIRIUS: Smitten little puppy of my life. 

SIRIUS AND REMUS: They’ve totally kissed in the past. At least once, and Remus still dreams about it. Sirius, well… maybe he’ll get some memories of it every now and then.

READER: My girl thinks she’s so freaking smart and yet is the most oblivious to her own feelings; she could be considered an idiot. She’s also so selfless it hurts, but like literally. Also, she loves flirting with Sirius way too much. Still, they definitely will need Rem in their relationship because there is no self-preservation sense when her personality is just as chaotic as our Puppy. Side note: Remus will 100% blush when she starts flirting with him in the same way he does with Sirius. And let’s not talk about what a tomato he will be when Sirius does it as well. 

PETER: He kinda disliked the reader at first, especially since he felt like she was taking away his friends, but eventually he warmed up to her, and loves their friendship. 

LILY: She enjoyed the kiss with Reader, and it made her realize she’s totally bi, because she also enjoyed the kiss with James. 

TOM: My boy is clever as hell and he knows a lot more than he lets on. Also, he secretly ships the golden throuple. 

BETH: She’s Tom’s bestie and she knows a lot of things too. She will also ignite chaos with the ultimate goal of being Gryffindor Tower’s own cupid. Do you think what happened at Marlene’s Party was a coincidence? 

REGG: My beautiful Reggie is still sad about the incident. He’s still trying to find a way to reconnect with you and it pains him that you think he’d rat you out. Even then, he values the fact that you are with Sirius and that you’re helping him through everything that’s been going on, especially since he saw how red Sirius’s eyes were when he left the Black’s house with a trunk in hand sobs stuck in his throat. Reg cried like a baby that night, just wishing for time to go by as fast as possible so he could go back to school and see his big brother again. (I’m so sorry for that guys).

MINHO: Has a secret crush and you would not believe me if I told you who it was. 

NINA: Has a secret crush and some of you have probably already guessed who it is. 

DAMOCLES: You don’t know him yet but omg he’s just so clever, thank you Kles for existing.

And let's be honest, I totally have a bunch more of this but I think this is way more than enough, for now…

Out of all the chapters so far, what’s been your favorite?

This is too fucking hard to decide. But If I had to choose my top three, and in no order in particular, I’d say, for the released ones:  

Fooled around and Fell in Love

Because, can we talk about the kiss scene? I feel like this one will come back bite my kiddos in the back so they finally realize what they actually fucking need. 

Do Ya 

I’m a total sucker for Sirius, what can I tell ya? But also the flying scenes were so much fun to write, totally an adventure to go through, still among my favs. 

Maybe I’m amazed 

“Do you like Golf?” 

From the unreleased episodes: 

Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young

The calm before the storm. Or is it the storm before the storm? 

Bad Moon Rising 

The FUCKING storm. But also one of my favorite things I’ve ever written. I think I like action scenes a little too much.

*** On The Run

The storm continues. But also, the calm after the storm.

Do you have a playlist that you always listen to when you're writing? 

Not a specific playlist, but I have been listening to a lot of ‘70s rock. Things like Queen, Bowie, Boston, Foreigner,  Kansas, Fleetwood Mac, Nazareth, The Police and some others. All of them help me get in the mood for writing. At least in the mood of the era, if that makes sense.

Aside from the ’70s classics, I’ve also been listening to a lot of Lord Huron, Hozier, and Aurora (I sort of discovered her recently and I’m obsessed with some of her songs). Also some of The Killers, Dotan and Vian Izak sprinkled here and there. Bastille and Imagine Dragons are always and forever so of course they wouldn’t be missing from my list. 

But when I’m struggling, like really struggling with writing, then I go to this Best Instrumental playlist, where they have everything from the Narnia and Peter Pan 2003 soundtracks to Vivaldi and Ghibli.  It really does help with the concentration. 

How long for the guys to understand that they fancy each other? 

Well, when you say the guys do you mean Sirius and Remus? ‘Cause then it’s not thaaaaaat far away from now. Now from then to them all dating, well…

I know Remus kind of struggles with feelings, and probably even more now that Sirius and the reader are together. But when he's gonna say "hey, can I come in?" 😏 lol I just want them together so baaaad!

Ahahahahahaha, Well that’s not exactly how it’s gonna go, but it’ll happen sometime after Christmas.

After wolfstar and the reader get together, the fic will end? or we're gonna have a lot of them together to compensate for the agony? 🥺

I’m not sure about the ending yet, but I’m definitely going to add so much fluff of the three of them together that you’re all gonna get cavities. Also, I’ve been writing The 5 Senses and the Halloween special (that might be finished until after Halloween) to practice for the spice, so I’m def compensating for the agony. 

Also, I kind of want to explore the social implications of being in a throuple, of making that public in the `70s. Seems like a whole lotta issue bringer that kinda interests me… Sorry, you’re not completely getting rid of the angst even when they’re all together. 

I don’t remember if I already asked you about this, but as a Regulus’ wife, I need to know. He'll come back, right? She will talk with him and he will be able to explain everything to her? I need this, I really need this! I can leave without this closing. THEY NEED TO BE FRIENDS AGAIN!

Your husband is safe with me. I promise. I’m not gonna say it’s gonna be very soon, but he will be safe because I love baby Reggie and I too can’t stand him being mistreated either. 

Not a question. I just want to say that I really love this story. It's one of my favorites, and I just put it on my masterlist for how much I love it.

Aww shut up, I love you so much <3

Will we have some Sirius jealousy? ‘Cause I'm really interested in that. Oooh... will he notice that Reader and Remus are... more than friends before they even know it? I dunno, he's just oblivious about everything around him. 

Funny that you ask, yes we will have a lot of Jealous!Sirius, in fact, it’s a huge part of how the throuple will develop. And you will have it so soon, even if it’s not exactly what you expect it to be. I can’t wait for next week!

And in regards to noticing, well… Sirius is not going to be the most oblivious about his own feelings in this story. I mean… not always.

Are there any particular scenes or moments in your story that were especially fun or challenging to write?

Well, I’m actually finding it a lot harder to write stuff atm, so I’d say the limbo between the Bad Moon Rising Arch and the next big thing that’s going to happen has been the hardest. Especially since I’m already going to get to a key point in which some shit is going to go down and I’m still not sure how bad and angsty I want to make it. Don’t worry, our golden throuple will be alright but…

In regards to fun, I must say the parties are some of my favorites, Potion Pong was incredibly fun to write ‘cause I literally transported myself to it and it was like actually living it, even if it was in my head. Also the flying scenes, they’re always fun to write, the race was incredible tbh. 

I love to write the fun banter and the teasing too, it brings me joy. But I bet you could tell I’m one for the teasing from the very first chapters of Gilded Constellations. 

Nina fancies Reader, right? She does. I just need a yes. I already know that 😌 

( ≖‿  ≖ )

Can you share any behind-the-scenes trivia or Easter eggs that readers might not have noticed in your story?

I feel like there’s a lot of behind-scenes I shared so far but I guess I could share a few pics of my organization systems. Things like…

Your schedule: 

The cover:

Some of you have already been theorizing about it too, you can look at some of those theories over here, and here, and also here.

Alt Covers I designed but weren't chosen:

Something you might not know:

GC is also available on Wattpad and AO3. The AO3 chapters usually drop like 30 minutes or an hour before Tumblr because it's easier to post there. And the Wattpad releases are actually way behind in comparison (there isn't much engagement over there).

Some Shots of my Plot notebook (0 spoilers): 

And also, have you noticed the special little thing in the names of the chapters? 10 housepoints to whoever notices

I just thought of this, but what if we make a little housepont system and from things that you guys guess of the story you get housepoints and then we have a houseprice in the end? OMG I'd love to do this, if you're on tell me your house in the comments. So far Sytherin would have like 40 points just beacuse of dear @cometsghost and I'm not sure what is @blacksgarden house but they would also have like 40 pts.

How do you stay motivated and inspired to keep writing, especially in moments when you might experience writer's block?

It may or may not be healthy, but I just force myself to type? I never really have writer’s block, rather I’d call it writer’s overload. It’s when I’m running through so many possibilities in my head and I can’t pick which is the one I want to go through with. So I keep thinking about it and I don’t type. Which is why I just force myself to type, more often than not I’ll end up writing something I really like. 

And as for the motivation, honestly just getting to see my boys again. To be able to submerge back into Hogwarts, that’s enough motivation. I seriously get an urge to go back because I miss them. It's kinda crazy. Like I might be chilling at home and suddenly the thought “I wish I was at Hogwarts” crosses my mind, not even joking. 

The other motivation is finishing my book so I can get a printed version to place in my bookshelf and show it off. Not that anyone would know what it is, but I’d know, which is enough, hehe. And also to be a better writer, they say you should write every single day, which is kind of what I’m attempting to do with GC. By writing a chapter every week, I literally force myself to write every single day, even if just a couple of words. 

Can we have cute moments with Remus? uuuh, Will he be cute when she notices that she really likes him?

Yes! We can have all the cute moments with Remus. Even before they all notice they’re into each other, we’re gonna have so many cute moments because even if Reader is dating Sirius I can’t leave my beautiful boy on the sidelines. Besides, how can I torture him if he doesn’t get a taste of how good it would be to be with them? 

What can readers look forward to in the next chapters, and do you have any long-term plans or goals for GCs development?

Angst. Don’t hate me for this. But also comfort, and some fun little adventures and then a bit more angst, hehe…

Well, that’s the end of the questions I got sent ahead. Hope you enjoyed this rollercoaster of a Q&A. If you have any more, or if my answers have provoked further questions, then by all means, share them with me, I’d love to be able to interact with you a bit more. 

Love ya, Lily xx

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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[dickgraysonwayne]

Today? Yesterday?

Ao3

Summary: Of all the things to kick off a time loop…

@dickgraysonweek 2024, Day 3: DILF Dick Grayson | Apologizing To Dick | Time Loop

Day 0

Dick knows it’s bad news when the man shrieks “A curse upon you!”

He changes course mid-flip, trying to predict where he’d be hit. He feels nothing, so he lands on the ground steadily, looking up at the platform where the man stands: finger pointed in his direction and a wild look on his face.

“Whoa,” Dick says, putting his arms up. “I didn’t know we were rolling like that.”

For all he had figured, this was supposed to be a quick grab-and-go rescue of a Blüdhaven mayoral candidate. She’d made a promise to clean up the city and, of course, certain groups weren’t very pleased with the concept.

Instead, he’d run into an armed-to-the-teeth gang that were not making this rescue any easier. So, he’d opted for a more subtle approach, sneaking around on rooftops until he was able to maneuver his way into a large warehouse. He’d wandered through, found a locked room in the corner, and then—

And then he’d run into…whatever this was, and the situation turned from guns&gangs to curse&magic territory.

He really hadn’t been ready for curses.

“Okay,” Dick says, eyes darting around. He needs to get to that door. “So, um. When you say curse, do you mean a plague on both your houses lamenting type curse or may you turn into a frog type curse?”

The man doesn’t clarify. “A curse,” He screeches again. “May you never find satisfaction in validation. May you be locked in a cycle of discontent. May the one who you need the most from—”

The man squacks as he’s interrupted by a Batarang to the head. Stunned, he falls backwards onto the platform and stays there.

Dick puts his arm down. “Well,” He says. “That was more…high minded than curses usually are. Very psychological.”

He hadn’t seen any physical indications of anything actually happening, but you can never be sure with this kind of thing. He hopes that whatever this was didn’t take.

“Okay,” He mutters to himself. He wishes Roy would’ve seen this, he would’ve found it hilarious. “Let’s finish this.”

He runs towards the door probably holding the promise for Blüdhaven’s future, hoping that the rest of the day goes by without any further incident.

Day 1

They’re not even in costume when it happens.

Hell, they’re not even working when it happens.

Instead, Dick finds himself making the long trip to Gotham the next morning, called in to assist with something Tim is working on. It’s something from your files, back in the day, Tim had said over the phone. Can you make your way over?

He’d slept in a bit, hoping to enjoy his Sunday. But getting to spend time with Tim is always great too, so he had agreed to make his way over.

It had taken maybe a few minutes to explain the case (Two-Face, now that was a time), before Tim had gotten what he needed. “Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

“Need any help?” Dick asks, tapping his fingers on the table, feeling restless.

“If you’re staying,” Tim says. “I’ll be going out at, like, 2300 so. You sticking around?”

Dick shrugs. “Sure,” He says. “Since I’m here. B around?”

“Yeah,” Tim says, sitting back into a stretch. “He’s workin’ on something else, I dunno.”

“Look at you!” Dick says, messing with his hair. “Solo mission guy over here!”

“Quit it!” Tim says, batting his hand away. “I’ve been solo mission guy!”

Dick laughs. “Hey,” He says, getting off of the chair. “You wanna go get some burgers or something? There’s still a long way to go til 2300 hours.”

“Sure,” Tim says, languidly getting up. “Man, I feel like I’ve been sitting here for ages.”

-

And that’s when, whilst heading over to grab a burger in town, Dick tells Tim about his encounter the day before.

“It was pretty insane,” He tells him as they pull out of the manor’s driveway. “The whole curse thing made me a little nervous, not gonna lie. That stuff gives me the heebie jeebies. But I got up just fine today, everything totally normal. So either the dude didn’t actually get me, or he was talking a big game.”

Tim frowns. “That’s a little weird,” He says, taking a sip of water from his Robin branded water bottle. “You should be careful though. You never know with magic.”

Dick nods vigorously. “Exactly!” He says, making his way to the manor’s large gate. “There aren’t any rules or anything to watch out for. You just gotta wait and see for something to happen before you can do anything about it.”

Tim’s frown only deepens. “I don’t know about that,” He says. “Maybe you should go talk to Zatanna. I dunno, I wouldn’t mess with this stuff. Have her check you over or something.”

“Yeah, but it’s not even a guarantee with her,” Dick says, waiting for the gate to open. “Sometimes magic doesn’t show up or whatever even when she checks. It’s a total crapshoot. But the smart idea still would be to check anyway—”

He jumps as Tim loses his grip on his water bottle, spilling it over his lap and the seat. “Ah, shit!” Tim says, hurriedly picking the bottle back up.

“No worries, Timbo,” Dick says, grabbing some tissues from the side of the door. “It’s just water.”

“I know,” Tim says. “Even so, though, I’m sorry-”

Everything stops.

Day 2

Dick wakes up.

He blinks up at his apartment ceiling. Damn, he thinks, yawning deeply. That was one hell of a dream. He feels around on his bedside table for his phone, then blinks at the numbers on top: 08:04

Damn. Slept in.

That curse must’ve really been playing in his thoughts, to follow him into his dreams like that. Unless it was a curse about dreams, which means it was now starting to work…

Dick shakes his head. He can’t think like that. If he does, it’s never going to end.

He levers himself up, stretching again. He’s going to enjoy his Sunday morning before updating his reports on the night before, maybe figure out what to do about the whole curse thing…

His phone buzzes, and he picks it back up. Tim.

Curious, and trying to push away the ominous feeling in his gut, he answers.

-

Okay. So this is a little weird. But, hey. It’s not like he’s never had a dream about hanging out with Tim before. It’s a perfectly normal thing for him to do. Plus, well, he has been keeping an eye on Gotham. Maybe he’d subconsciously known that something was going on, that Tim would reach out to him for help…

And then it had gotten weirder. But. Still explainable. If he’d been keeping an eye out on Gotham, maybe he’d figured out somewhere back in his mind that Two-Face was going to be the problem…

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

“Hm,” Dick says. He taps on the table, feeling off. “Okay.”

“Dick?”

He looks up. Tim is looking at him, concern in his eyes. “Everything good? You seem a little…distracted.”

“Oh,” Dick says, trying to pull himself together. “Yeah. I’m good. I’m just…you know. In my head a little. There’s a whole—” He waves it off. “I’ll explain later. Um, you gonna need any help on your mission?”

“If you’re staying,” Tim says, still eyeing him with concern. “I’ll be going out at, like, 2300 or so. You sticking around?”

The Deja Vu hits him even harder. “Sure,” He says. “Hey. Is this a solo mission?”

Tim gives him a small smile. “Yeah,” He says. “I’ve been doing them for a while now. B’s working on his own thing, I’m working on mine.”

“Nice, Timmy,” Dick says, finding a smile for him in return. “Hey, wanna go get something to eat? I’m hungry. Let’s go eat.” He shoots to his feet, needing to move, needing to do something.

“Um,” Tim says, stumbling up with him. “Yeah, sure. Yeah let’s get…let’s get burgers, or something.”

Dick nods, fast walking his way out. An icy feeling grows in his stomach.

-

“What were you saying earlier?”

Dick starts, looking away from the slowly opening gate. “Hm?”

“You had a whole,” and Tim makes a circle gesture with his hands. “Thing you were thinking about. What was it?”

“Oh,” Dick says. “Well. Um. I had a little…run-in yesterday. Some guy yelled that he was gonna put a curse on me. And, like, I didn’t feel anything off or anything like that. But today…I don’t know. It’s all weird today. Like majorly Deja Vu or something.”

Tim frowns. “That’s weird,” He says, taking a sip of water. “You should be careful though. You never know with magic. In fact, you should probably—”

“Go to Zatanna, I know,” Dick says distractedly. “I will. I think I should. After our mission today, I will. It’s just…nothing specific, you know? Just an off feeling.”

The gate opens, and Dick quickly turns to the side. “Hey—”

He catches Tim’s water bottle, just as Tim drops it.

“Oh!” Tim says, flinching back. “Hey. Nice catch.”

Dick hands it back to him, mind spinning.

“I don’t know what happened,” Tim continues. “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess, sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 3

Dick wakes up.

He shoots up in bed with a gasp. He throws his sheets off of him then lunges at his phone, unlocking the screen to check the day and time. Sunday. 08:04.

He falls back into bed, phone clutched tightly in his hand. Okay, He thinks, slightly hysterical. Okay. This is…this is probably the curse, huh? This is probably the curse.

What had the man said again? Something about…validation. Satisfaction in validation. And a cycle of discontent.

Well. That’s the cycle part figured, then. He’s gonna keep resetting until he breaks whatever curse this is. So, all he needs to do is figure out exactly what it is that’s going on that’s causing the resets, and he should be good to go. Right?

“Okay,” He tells himself. “Okay, what were the factors that set this off? What made me reset?”

The obvious answer, is, of course, Tim.

He thinks on this for a moment. He’ll need to tell Tim everything, brainstorm through the issue with him. He’s smart, he’ll probably help him figure this out…

His phone rings. He looks down. Tim.

He picks up.

“Hey, Dick,” Tim says. “So, I’m working on something—”

“I’m on my way,” Dick says, running to his closest to grab something. “Just gimme a—”

“Hey,” Tim says, confusion clear in his voice. “It’s okay, there’s no emergency or anything, I just need your help with something.”

“I know,” Dick says. “And I can do that. But I need your help with something too. Buckle up, it’s a weird one.”

-

“Time loop?” Tim says, eyes wide.

“Time loop.” Dick confirms with a nod.

Tim sits back in his chair, baffled. “Well,” He says. “The good news is that you’ve only just started on this, I guess. Maybe you won’t have to deal with it for much longer.”

Dick groans, going facedown on the table’s surface. “Don’t do that,” He says, voice muffled. “You just jinxed me.”

“Shut up,” Tim says, but he sounds distant. “What did the guy say again?”

Dick lifts his head. “He cursed me with never finding satisfaction in validation,” He says. “And told me I’d be stuck in a cycle of discontent. And then he started saying something about a person I’d need it from before I stopped him.”

“Hm,” Tim says, steepling his fingers together. “And when you went through the days with me, it reset at about the same time both times?”

“Yeah,” Dick side eyes him. “You’ve got your I-have-an-idea face there, Timbo.”

“I do not,” Tim says, making his I-have-an-idea face. “Well. I do have an idea…not a very specific one, but still.”

Dick raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“There’s a specific series of events,” Tim begins, “That lead to your reset. I speak with you, you come here, we discuss the case, we go out to get food, I drop my water, and then you wake up. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. “That’s right.”

“So,” Tim says. “What if we disrupt it? We break the chain of events. And then we can see from there. It could be time related. Did we leave at about the same time both days? Did the reset happen at about the same time both days?”

Dick thinks about it for a second. “You know what…” He says slowly. “Yeah. It did. Around…12:30, I wanna say?”

“Okay,” Tim says. “So let’s stay in. And then wait for 12:30. Disrupt the chain of events, and then see if you reset or not. And if you don’t…we’ll know it’s not time dependent, and we can try to work on it from there.”

“Timbo,” Dick says, beaming at him. “That’s a great idea. You’re great!”

Tim blushes. “Come on,” He says. “Stop it. It’s just an idea. I didn’t even think about what the actual phrasing of the curse could actually mean.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dick says, grinning. “It’s a start! And if I don’t reset at 12:30…it means we’re making progress! And maybe I won’t have to be stuck in this, which I would very much appreciate.”

Tim smiles back. “Well,” He says. “If you do reset, come find me, okay? We can pick up where we left off, and you can explain everything we’ve tried so far.”

“You’re the best, Timmy,” Dick says. He checks his phone. “I think we’ll find out soon, anyway. We hit 12:30 in about half an hour, so. We’ll know then.”

Tim nods at him. “Okay,” He says, sighing. “So. We wait.”

-

Half an hour passes with the speed of molasses. Dick can’t sit still the entire time: his knee jumps constantly, he fiddles with anything he can get his hands on, he gets up and paces on occasion.

Fifteen minutes in, Tim looks at him askance. “That isn’t helping you, Dick,” He says, clearly trying to be patient with him. “Sit down. Nap, or something. Wait, actually don’t. Go watch puppy videos on your phone, or something.”

“As cute as that sounds,” Dick says. “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”

Tim sighs. “You’re so fidgety,” He complains. “You must have been such a nightmare child. I feel like apologizing to Bruce on your behalf.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Dick defends. “If anything, Bruce needs to apologize to me for not being able to manage my energy.”

Tim grins. “Well,” He says. “Can’t say I disagree with you on that.” He checks his phone. “Okay,” He says, countenance turning entirely. “Minute to go. Tell me if you start feeling weird, or something.”

Dick nods, shifting nervously. “Will do,” He says, then starts counting time in his head. 60, 59, 58…

He makes it to the last few, 4, 3, 2, 1, then braces himself.

Nothing happens.

Dick turns to Tim. “I feel normal,” He tells him. “No resetting feeling or anything going on from here!”

“Let’s wait a little longer, Tim says, eyebrows furrowed. “Maybe there’s a specific time to the minute or second to hit, and we haven’t gotten there yet.”

Dick groans. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He says, sitting down again. “Okay. Let’s wait.”

Another fifteen minutes pass. Then twenty.

And still nothing.

Dick turns to Tim again, eyebrows raised. “It looks like I’m still good,” He says. “I think we can say that I’m in the clear?”

Tim nods. “Looks like,” He says. “So it’s not time dependent. Nor chain of events dependent. There has to be a trigger here. We have to find out what it is.”

Dick nods, tapping a finger to his knee. “Satisfaction in validation,” He mutters. “So that means…it’s something where I got validated for something? When did that happen in the previous resets?”

Tim frowns. “Let’s try to go through your day,” He says. “Specific things you did. Specific things you said. Maybe we’ll figure it out that way.”

Dick sighs, running a hand through his hair. “My memory isn’t as good as yours,” He says, running through his days in his head. “And…I don’t know, the details are kinda fuzzy. But I’ll try.”

“I know, Tim says, not unsympathetic. “It’s not easy, sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 4

Dick wakes up.

Shit, he thinks. It’s unnecessary at this point, but he checks his phone again. Sunday. 08:04.

He taps his phone to his chin, frustrated. Right. So, it clearly isn’t a Tim-specific problem. Or, maybe it is? Maybe it’s the combination of location and person?

If that’s the case…maybe if he just doesn’t go, then he doesn’t reset.

Satisfaction in validation.

He still isn’t sure about that one. But if he can hack it by breaking the curse without figuring that out, then he’ll take it.

Anyway, if he stays away from Tim for the day, he might figure out how long it’ll let him go before it resets. Will it go on forever, until he sees Tim. Will he have to avoid him for a while? Can’t let that happen, He thinks. That would be ridiculous.

He really should give Zatanna a call. She might be able to break the curse without even needing to figure that part out.

His phone rings, and he picks up without even looking the screen. “Hey Timmy,” He says, deciding not to try to tip him off that anything was amiss. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Dick,” Tim responds, “I’ve got something here—”

“Okay Tim,” Dick says, going to get his day started (again). “If you need my help with something, I’m all in. But I’ve got something I gotta go do, so I can’t actually come over. Is it something you can send me? Promise I’ll help out.”

“Sure,” Tim says, sounding a bit taken aback. “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for the help, Dick. I’ll send it to you now. Standby.”

“Thanks, Timmy. See ya.” Dick says, disconnecting, and feeling a little bad about the whole thing. He’d usually jump at any opportunity or hang out, which Tim knows. He doesn’t think he’d hurt his feelings or anything, but he still does feel a bit guilty for blowing him off like that.

It’s for a good cause, He thinks. I’ll come by to see him when all this is over.

He thinks about Tim’s directive to come see him during the next reset. Sorry, buddy. Maybe if I reset again. So, what can he do? How does he go about solving this problem?

He gets ready, thinking about how to go about his day. Maybe I should call Zatanna, He thinks, putting his jacket on. And hopefully she’ll be able to see me now.

Dick heads out of his apartment, not having a particular plan in mind. He pulls out his phone, considering giving Zatanna that call. He scrolls through his contacts, hovering over her name, conflicted.

As he goes to open the doors to his building’s stairwell, they suddenly swing open in his direction. Startled, he steps back, just about missing being flattened by the door.

One of his neighbors emerges, almost bumping into him. “Oh my god,” The man says. “I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry—”

Everything stops.

Day 5

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He sighs, leaning back against his pillow. Take 5, I guess.

Right. Okay, so. It’s pretty clear what’s causing this now.

Satisfaction in validation. Apology.

If he receives an apology, no matter who it’s from, then his day resets.

He can’t believe he hadn’t noticed before. Both times with Tim and the water bottle, he’d apologized to trigger the time loop. In the non water bottle day, Tim’s “sorry” had triggered it. With his neighbor, the apology from the door had triggered it. Getting it from a new person had really brought it home.

So, solutions?

He sits back up, holding his phone, waiting for Tim’s call. The obvious play would be to just…not receive any apologies. While it’s easier said than done, it would definitely give him an idea of what’s going on, and help him test how far this loop is going to let him do. Could he go days, weeks, even years without an apology, then receive one and loop back around? That would be a problem.

Well. Maybe he can test it out, just for today. A no-apology-day.

The phone rings. He picks it up. “Hey, Timmy,” He says. “How’re you doing?”

“Hey Dick,” Tim responds, “I’ve got something here—”

Well. If he wants to be left alone today…

“Oh yeah, Tim,” Dick says, trying his best to remember his earlier statement. “If you need my help with something I’m ready. But I’ve got something i have to do today, so I can’t actually come over. Can you send me the files and I’ll give you a call about them later? I’d come if I could, promise.”

“Sure,” Tim says, and he sounds the same as last time, excellent. “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for the help, Dick. I’ll send it to you now. Standby.”

“See ya Timbo,” Dick says, disconnecting with a sigh. It’s more waiting, then. And this time, he’s gonna have to do it alone.

-

Staying away from people all day is difficult.

He knows he’s got a reputation as a people-person, but that’s only because he has the fortune to be in probably the most socially awkward family in history. He actually doesn’t mind a little alone time every now and then.

This, though? This is total isolation. And, while he’s wired and worried and anxious, is a tough thing for him to overcome.

He spends the first part of his day working on the stuff Tim sent him. He’d seen it all before, of course, but he makes sure to really pour over the information, adding a lot of very detailed explanations and analyses. He hopes this doesn’t make Tim suspicious (who is he kidding? Of course it will) but hopefully he won’t have enough time to actually act on his suspicions before Dick can hopefully move on to phase two of his curse-breaker plan.

After he sends all his notes to Tim, he finds himself left with hours and hours of time and people to avoid. Which, actually, is harder than he’d anticipated.

He spends the rest of the day from late afternoon fielding calls. As a general rule, Dick always picks up (just in case. You never know who’s using a burner). But man, he hasn’t realized exactly how many people call him until he wanted to avoid talking. After checking to see if anyone was in any immediate danger (they were not) he’d make his excuses and hop off swiftly before anyone got it their minds to give him an apology of some kind.

Not to mention the texts. And half of them aren’t even work stuff: just Wally sending him memes, or Donna sending him memes, or Babs sending him another article on the activities of the Red Hood, or Amy sending him memes, or Clark sending his weekly “good afternoon 😊” texts that he somehow manages to stick to every single week. Dick doesn’t know if apology-by-text would count here, and it is a minefield navigating conversations to make sure that the word is never sent from the other end.

“Sorry” is, in Dick’s opinion, very overused.

As for the rest of his time in self-induced isolation, he tries to keep himself busy. The TV is on, and he scrolls through all the things he’d put on his watch later list on streaming services (he watches nothing). He picks up a book he’d planned to trying (only to put it down minutes later, unable to concentrate). He tries stretching and running through some gentle warmup exercises (this one takes).

Overall, it’s not an experience he’s keen on repeating. If I make it 24 hours without looping, he tells himself firmly. I’m going to call Zatanna.

It probably would’ve been smarter to start with her, like Tim had said, but hey. The more info he can give her about how this works, the easier time she’ll have lifting it.

He makes it to the evening, and then into the night without further incident. Thankfully, Tim hadn’t tried to call him back. Nor did, to his relief, Bruce. Bruce would probably see through him in a heartbeat, and involving him in this would be a headache and a half to deal with.

As time ticks down to midnight, Dick feels exhaustion wash over him, thanks to the nervous tension he’d held on to the entire day. No he tells himself, staring at the blurry numbers on his phone. Stay awake.

Once midnight passes, maybe he can take a nap. Then he can figure out what to do next.

He rubs at his eyes, glancing at his phone again. 23:59.

Well, he’s almost done with the full day. This should give him a good idea of how this curse wo—

12:00

Everything stops.

Day 6

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He doesn’t even wait for the phone call this time. Instead, he scrolls through his contacts, tapping on Zatana’s name with a determined finality.

-

“Ah. Well, that seems like an issue, doesn’t it?”

Dick groans, putting his head in his hands. “Yeah,” He says, voice muffled between his fingers. “It really is. Thanks for coming to help break it. I couldn’t risk going out to you.”

A hand pats his head. “No problem,” Zatanna says, sounding amused. “And, look. Could be worse. You’re, what, a week in? Not too bad. And with the myriad of curses out there? This is a pretty light one, comparatively speaking.”

Dick sighs, dropping his hands on his lap. “I guess,” He says. “So. What’s the deal here? Can you break this…whatever it is?”

“Let me check,” Zatanna puts a hand on his head and closes her eyes. Her hand glows into a warm, white light, and he feels a sense of peace wash over him…

She takes her hand away. “There’s definitely something there,” She says, sitting back down across from him. “But. I’ll tell you right now, it’s more risk than it’s worth to break from my end.”

Dick frowns. “What’s the risk?” He asks.

Zatanna shrugs. “Since I don’t know the magician, or the source of the magic,” She says. “I’d have to go with a general curse break. It would require a lot of energy from both our sides, and then you would need to keep feeding the break from your own energy. It takes too long, or you don’t have enough? Well…it would be risky, let’s just say that. It wouldn’t be worth it for a relatively low stakes curse like this.”

“Okay,” Dick says. “Yeah. I see your point. So,” He crosses his arms. “What do you think? How would I break this and resolve the time loop normally?”

Zatanna goes over to his fridge, pulls out a water bottle. “Here,” She says, giving it to him.

Dick takes it, confused. “Will drinking this solve it?”

Zatanna laughs. “It’s just water,” She says, sitting back down next to him. “You look dehydrated. Okay. I need your memory recall.”

Dick takes a sip. “Okay,” He says.

“We need to go through the exact wording of the curse,” She says. “Figure out exactly what you were cursed with, and then resolve it. Probably the best way to deal with it would be to confront it directly.”

Dick frowns. “Okay,” He says, going through the memory. “Exact wording? I went through this with Tim earlier. Um,” He thinks for a moment. “May you never find satisfaction in validation. May you be locked in a cycle of discontent. May the one who you need the most from—” He stops. “He cut off there.”

“Huh,” Zatanna says. She looks elegant even when she’s confused. “That’s…verbose.”

“Tell me about it,” Dick says. “Anyway. I think I’ve figured out what the first two parts mean. Satisfaction in validation probably refers to the apologies, because every loop occurred right after I got one. Cycle of discontent is probably the loop, because, well, I’ve been looping. The third part got interrupted, so I don’t know if it went through…”

Zatanna gives him a piercing stare. “Interesting,” She says. “Wait a moment. Let me try something.”

Dick nods. “Go for it.”

She looks directly at him, mouth curled up in a slight smile. “I’m sorry,” She says.

Dick flinches, slamming his eyes shut. A moment later, he opens them to find Zatanna still sitting across from him, eyes sparkling.

“Why’d you do that?” Dick demands, heart pounding. “At least warn me first.”

Zatanna laughs. “I know,” She says. “I needed to check something. So. It looks like the apology needs to be sincere in order to trigger the reset.”

“Oh,” Dick says. “Okay. I see what you did. So this is better, right? Just hearing sorry won’t be enough to catapult me back?”

“Yes,” Zatanna says. “I have to tell you, though. I think this just made the curse break a lot more complicated.”

Dick frowns. “How so?”

“Well,” Zatanna says. “The third part of the curse. That’s the key to breaking it. He may not have finished the phrase but he started it, which should’ve been enough to make it stick. It looks like you’re gonna have to hear an apology from a specific person, a sincere apology, in order the break the curse.”

Dick breaks out into a smile. “Thanks, Z,” He says. “Should be easy enough, right? I have to tell you, I was expecting something a lot more—”

He trails off at the sympathetic look on her face. “What?” He asks, an ominous feeling settling over him. “What is it?”

“Well,” She says. “The wording says ‘the one who you need the most from’ is the person you’ll need to get the sincere apology from. Tell me, who do you think that is?”

Dick turns it over in his mind for a moment, then…

Bruce…A voice in his head whispers. It sounds like his own, but not.

He freezes. “Oh no.”

“Yeah,” Zatanna says, exuding sympathy again. “I think we both know who that should be.”

“How do you know?” He asks, heart pounding. “Are we even thinking of the same person?”

“Oh, please,” Zatanna says. “Who else could it be? We can confirm it though. Does he dress like a bat and fight crime?”

Dick groans. “Oh my god,” He says. “How am I even gonna do that? Get a sincere apology from him? I can’t even talk to him most of the time.”

“You’ll have to, to break the curse.” Zatanna says. Dick takes another sip of water. “And remember, you only have til midnight of the same day to do it.”

“A deadline,” Dick says, despairing. “Even better.”

“Right,” Zatanna says. “So you have a plan, then? Know where you’re going?”

“Yeah,” He says. “I just have to come up with an idea…”

“You’ll probably need the full day,” Zatanna says. “So allow me, okay? Good luck.”

Dick frowns at her. “What do you mea—”

She looks him right in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

Everything stops.

Day 7

Dick wakes up.

Sunday. 08:04.

He groans, considering just going back to sleep and dealing with this again tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. Whatever.

Because, well. Getting Bruce involved? That’s gonna be a whole ordeal.

Not to mention, getting Bruce to give him a sincere apology in less than a day? Talk about an impossible task.

He might as well get started now. He’ll need all the time he can get.

The phone rings.

“Hey, Timbo,” Dick says. “How’s it going?”

-

In many ways, this day plays out a lot like the first one.

He shows up at Tim’s invitation, then takes him through the case that he now knows like the back of his hand. Tim’s shocked but impressed, and it’s really amusing even though he’s kind of cheating.

“Thanks, Dick,” Tim says, scribbling down in his notes. “I think I just need to set up a trap, and then we’ll be all good here.”

And here’s where the divergence has to happen.

Dick nods. “No worries,” He says. “Hey. Bruce around?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “He’s around here somewhere, probably down in the Cave. Why?”

“Gotta talk to him,” He says, standing up. He ruffles Tim’s hair on the way. “See you later.”

He can’t tip them off. If the apology needs to be sincere, Bruce cant be aware that it has to be, or the sincerity is gone. Right?

It’s gonna be a challenge either way, and he takes the route down to the cave in a grim sort of silence.

He taps on the large wall twice as he walks in, sound echoing across the cave. “Hey, Bruce,” He says, heart pounding. “How’s it going?”

Bruce is sitting at the computer, staring at bits of data that only make sense to him. “Dick,” He acknowledges, without turning around. “Working on this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Hm?” Dick goes through his non-time-loop-related memory bank. “Oh. You mean…the alien incident? Yeah. Why, is that relevant to us?”

“Maybe,” Bruce says, still staring at the screen. “Possibly. There’s something there…”

He trails off. Dick is familiar with the pauses, so he waits patiently.

He’s putting it off. Time is of the essence, and he’s putting it off. But goddamn. He really does not want to do this.

The only thing he can think of doing at this point is to go in bluntly. He doesn’t have time to plan a more nuanced approach, and Bruce’ll probably see right through it anyway.

Here we go, Dick thinks, before taking a deep breath. “Bruce,” He says, and he can barely get the words out. “We need to talk, okay?”

He’s not sure if it’s the words or the tone that gets Bruce’s attention, but it works. Right away, Bruce whirls around in his chair. His focus, previously fully on the screen in front of him, is now concentrated entirely on Dick. “What is it?” Bruce asks, and he staring at him like he’s able to see right into his brain, like he’s reading through his thoughts one by one.

The weight of his attention is almost too much to bear. “Um,” He says, taking another breath. “It’s. Well. It’s kind of a long story.”

Bruce isn’t moved. “You’re sacred,” He observes, leaning closer. “What is it? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Dick lets out a shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. “Do you trust me?” He asks.

This probably doesn’t help with Bruce’s concern. His eyes narrow. “Why?” He asks. “What’s wrong?”

“If you do,” Dick says. “I need you to trust me on this. Um. I need an apology, okay?”

Whatever Bruce had anticipated he’d say, it was clearly not this. “What.” He says flatly, more of a statement than a question.

“I…” Dick says, feeling like he’d made a mistake with his approach. “I need you to say sorry, okay? To me.”

Bruce is, uncharacteristically, shocked into silence. He sits back, face impassive, eyes confused. “For what?” He finally asks, when Dick doesn’t elaborate further.

Of all the questions…“Anything,” Dick says, and he feels his face grow hot. “Pick something. There’s a lot… I just need a verbal apology from you, okay? And you need to mean it.”

Bruce’s face finally cracks, settling on a frown. “What is this?” He asks, voice rising. “Where is this coming from?”

“You trust me, right?” Dick says, an edge of desperation to his voice. “I need you to do this. Please.”

He thinks the plea will be enough. It isn’t.

Bruce just stares at him. “What is this?” He repeats, then: “Tell me this: how old were you when I fired you?”

Dick’s stomach drops. “Bruce,” He says. “It’s me. I’m me, you don’t need to check—”

“How old?” Bruce snaps. Dick can see his hands drift to his belt.

He exhales. “Seventeen,” He says, conceding defeat. “It was after I got shot.”

Bruce’s hands pause right before they get to his weapons. “Then,” He says. “Why are you asking this? You’re not making any sense.”

“I know,” Dick says. “But…I’ll explain later. I just need this from you. Please.”

Bruce grits his teeth. “I can’t do that unless I know..”

Dick stares at him. “You won’t?” He asks. “You’re not gonna trust me on this?”

Bruce doesn’t answer, still eyeing him suspiciously.

Dick tastes defeat on his tongue. Embarrassment, rage, and sadness battle in his throat. “Fine,” He says shortly, turning around. “I’ll…I’ll go then. See you tomorrow.”

Bruce doesn’t go after him.

-

Dick gets back home and goes right to his apartment, slamming the door shut as he enters.

He’ll need another plan tomorrow. Today. Yesterday. But, for now…

For now, he sits and stares at the time until it hits midnight.

Day 8

Dick wakes up.

He doesn’t even bother to check the date and time, jumping out of bed and grabbing for his clothes.

Okay. New plan. New approach. But what? Straightforward isn’t going to work. Subtle isn’t going to work. What’s left to him now? How can he possibly get Bruce to apologize to him and mean it?

He freezes in the middle of putting on a sock. Maybe…maybe he wasn’t doing enough earlier. Maybe he needs to get more straightforward. God knows Bruce can pull out sincerity when he needs it. Maybe hearing that the world is in a time loop that only he can break will do enough.

Grimly, he pulls the rest of the sock on. He’ll be able to tell Tim this way too, and maybe the both of them can convince Bruce of doing this together.

The phone rings. He grabs it. “Timmy,” He says. “It’s Two Face, by the way. Your case. You’ll just need to set your trap for tonight, and you’re golden.”

There’s a short silence, then: “How did you know that?” Tim asks, baffled. Dick can practically hear him peering at all corners of his room. “How—”

“I’m on my way, okay?” Dick says, grabbing his keys. “I’ll explain everything when I get there.”

-

“Time loop?” Tim says, eyes wide.

“Time loop.” Dick confirms with a nod.

“Damn,” Tim says, shaking his head. “And I told you to keep coming to me to figure this out and you didn’t? Lame. This could’ve been over by now.”

Dick huffs a laugh. “Honestly,” he says, shrugging. “You might be right.”

“How’re you gonna…you know?” Tim says, giving him a sideways glance. “Get Bruce to agree? Think cluing him in to all this is gonna help?”

“It has to, right?” Dick says, sighing. “I mean, asking him to do it didn’t work. If he knows it’s a time loop, then he’ll try.”

“But what if trying is the problem,” Tim says, and Dick stops him before he can continue.

“I know,” Dick says. “I considered that one too. But we have to try. The other way didn’t work, and if this does then we’re golden. If not…then I guess I’ll have to try something else.”

Tim rubs his head. “Well,” he says. “At least you get a bunch of do overs, free of charge. It’s not even a this-place-kinda-sucks Groundhog Day situation.”

Dick can only laugh. “Yeah,” He says. “We’re only on round 8, too. Haven’t even reached double digits yet.”

“Light work,” Tim scoffs, then stands up. “C’mon. Let’s go tell Bruce now.”

“Yeah,” Dick says, the familiar dread starting to form in his stomach. “Okay, let’s go.”

When they make their way down to the Cave, Bruce is exactly where Dick had left him. Staring at the a screen, contemplating the information within.

“Dick,” Bruce says, almost like an announcement. I know that you’re there. “Come take a look at this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Yeah,” Dick says, making his way over. He doesn’t look at the screen. “I couldn’t tell you if it’s relevant or not to us, though. But, Bruce. Listen. I need your help with something.”

“Hm?” Bruce says. His eyes stay on the screen, but Dick can tell that he’s listening. “What is it?”

Dick gives a side glance to Tim. Tim gives him a thumbs up. “Well,” He begins. I seem to have found myself in a…time loop situation. Groundhog Day style.”

This interests Bruce enough that he turns around, pinning Dick with a very familiar searching look. “Time loop?” He asks, then. “Report.”

“I got cursed,” Dick says, keeping it short and simple. “In Blüdhaven. I’ve completed about 7 resets so far. The loop triggers whenever I get an apology, and when the day ends. I spoke with Zatanna during one of the resets, and she told me that I essentially got cursed with needing to hear a sincere apology from…well, you. And if you do that, it’ll stop the loop.”

Bruce barely flinches. Dick’s kind of impressed despite himself. “Hm,” Bruce says, eyeing him critically. “Is this verifiable?”

“It is,” Tim chimes in. “He knew about the thing I’m working on. Knew the questions I was gonna ask him before I was able to do it.”

“Interesting,” Bruce says. “Well. An apology, you say?”

Dick shrugs. “Yeah,” He says, “Should be easy enough, right? It had to be sincere to work, though. The word itself doesn’t trigger anything. It’s more like the word plus the intention.”

Bruce considers him further. “Right,” He says, almost to himself. “Well then. My apologies.”

Dick waits. Nothing happens.

“You have to mean it, Bruce,” He tries. “Just…anything. Anything you have any guilt about. It should work.”

Bruce looks him in the eye, holds contact for a few second, then darts a glance to the side. “I’m sorry,” He says. It sounds somber, real.

Another beat. Nothing happens.

“Are you sure?” Bruce says, and Dick makes an annoyed sound. “That this is supposed to be me?”

“Pretty sure,” Dick says, already tired of the conversation.

“Why?” Bruce says. He gets up, clearly getting into detective-mode. “What did the curse say exactly? I need precise details.”

Dick sighs. “Bruce…”

Tim sidles up to him. “Dude,” He says, sympathetically. “Sorry.”

Both their eyes go wide at the same time before—

Everything stops.

Day 9

Dick wakes up.

He knows what’s gonna happen, but feels the need to check anyway:

Sunday. 08:04.

Great.

Well. He’s still chasing this Bruce angle, so he needs to up back to the manor for take 3 there. One more round of loops, and I’ll hit double digits. He thinks.

The straightforward approach didn’t work. Telling him the situation didn’t work. So he’s going to need to be more subtle with it, try to manipulate the situation into getting an apology.

Dick shakes his head. How is he going to do that, when Bruce has never apologized to him for anything big that he’d done?

Well. He doesn’t have a choice, does he? If this fails, maybe he’ll make a PowerPoint presentation of all the relevant points, and maybe Bruce will be convinced enough to apologize…

He’s getting ahead of himself. He should just try this round and see…

He grabs his phone, dials Tim.

“Hey!” Tim picks up. “I was literally just about to call you.”

“Oh, great,” Dick says, grabbing his shirt. “What a cool coincidence. I just wanted to check with you if Bruce is around, I wanted to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Tim says. “Mind if I pick your brain before you go in?”

“Sure,” Dick says. He doesn’t want to alert Tim’s suspicions. “I’m on my way.”

-

Dick stops right outside the Cave, indecision burning away at him.

He needs a battle plan. If he doesn’t go in fully prepared, Bruce is gonna pry him apart in seconds.

Okay, He thinks to himself. Be friendly. Be open. Be helpful. And then…pick a fight. But don’t yell. Act hurt. And see

Oh, this is gonna go great.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he saunters into the cave, tapping at the wall twice. “Hey, Bruce,” He greets. “What’s up?”

Bruce is sitting at the computer, staring at bits of data that only make sense to him. “Dick,” He acknowledges, without turning around. “Working on this. You been hearing about what’s going on in New York?”

“Yeah,” Dick says. He approaches the screen, actually looking at the information this time. “Why? Think it’s something we should look at?”

He tries to include himself in the discussion, signaling to Bruce that he’s here to help.

It works. “Maybe,” Bruce thinks. This time, he gestures to Dick to come forward. “If you look here,” He points. “The origin of these beings seems…oddly familiar.”

Dick nods, barely processing the information. He keeps looking for a way in, a way to fall into an argument. “Sure,” He says. How is he going to do this? How is he ever going to get Bruce to say sorry? “You think it’s…uh….”

The words get stuck in his throat.

Bruce looks at him. “Dick?” He asks.

His voice sounds so genuine in that moment that Dick almost can’t handle it. “I’m good,” He says. His voice cracks. “Yeah, I’m good. Just…uh. I’m good.”

Oh boy. This is going great.

Shut up. He tells himself. Pull yourself together.

He looks down at his hands. They’re shaking.

He feels himself being pushed into a chair. “Dick?” A pair of hands grabs his face, lifts it up. He sees Bruce peering into his eyes. “What’s going on?”

Dick chuckles between breaths. “Nothing,” He says, trying to get himself back under control. “I’m good.”

“Clearly not,” Bruce eyes him. “Hold on. I’m going to do an assessment.” He pats Dick’s shoulder. “Stay calm.”

“I am,” Dick insists. He’s mostly embarrassed, really. His hands are still shaking.

In no time at all, he feels his head being yanked back over the top of the chair. A bright light is shined in his eyes.

He hisses, the sudden change in position confusing him. Pain radiates through his neck. “Sorry,” Bruce says, offhandedly, peering into his face. “Need to do this. You don’t look like you have a head injury…”

But Dick…

Dick has…

Sorry…

The word echoes in his head. Did he just…

He gets a feeling like a bucket of ice water has been thrown on him. Everything around him comes into focus with a scary amount of clarity.

Bruce clearly feels a difference, because he pauses. “Dick?” He asks again.

Dick blinks. Once. Twice. “I’m okay,” He gasps. He thinks he means it this time. “I’m okay.”

-

Bruce had been reluctant to send him home after that.

Dick doesn’t blame him. He’d completely fallen apart right then and there and probably scared the shit out of him, so.

And, well. His panic had been clear in the fact that. That he’d apologized. And…and it may have broken the curse? He thinks? He’s no expert, but there’s only one way to find out, really.

So, Bruce’s absolute insistence that he stay the night didn’t push his buttons the way it usually would. Instead, he gives in to the pushing. He’s too tired not to.

Plus, once Bruce got Alfred involved…there was no way he was gonna get away after that.

That’s why Dick finds himself in his childhood bedroom hours later, staring at the stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars and moons on the ceiling.

Satisfaction in validation. He thinks, then. Suck it.

He should probably go back to the warehouse anyway. Can’t have the dude going ahead cursing other people willy-nilly. Next time, he’ll bring Zatanna.

Bruce apologized. He thinks. It still blows him away. He actually apologized.

Not for anything major, either. Just…just in the moment, not even thinking about it. The words slipped out, just like that. Like he did it all the time.

Dick thinks he should be feeling some type of way about that. That it should resolve at something inside of him, at the thing that’s been there ever since he was seventeen years old.

May you never find satisfaction in validation..

He shakes it off. Maybe he would feel differently if it was a bigger apology. Or maybe it hasn’t quite sunk in yet. Either way. He’s pretty sure that the curse has lifted, but he’s not gonna count it a done deal until he hits the next day without incident.

May you never find satisfaction in validation…

Dick keeps an eye out on his phone, trying his best to stay awake.

The time ticks down…

12:00.

He draws a breath, then another. He waits.

Monday. 12:01.

He drops his phone on the bed, breathing deeply. I did it. He thinks. I did it.

May you never find satisfaction in validation

He swallows all the feelings still simmering below the surface, then drops off to sleep.

#dickgraysonweek #dick grayson #nightwing #Tim drake #Robin #Bruce Wayne #Batman #speaks

[alovesongtheywrote]

holy fuckin shit girl nighmare academia 🤌🤌🤌

thank god for that person who asked for a pt.2, but I must ask for a pt.3 loll

♥ Summary:  here you go, 1000 words of reid scheming against the reader with the help of some familiar faces! [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: morgan and garcia being morgan and garcia, vague mentions of spencer wanting kids, threats of bodily harm at the very end

♥ A/N: yeah, ik the last one of these came out like. today. but im having a lot of fun, so until that stops. have fun with the enemies to lovers professor au

♥ Word Count: 1200

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

“Alright, my sweet brain boy, I’ve got the dirt on the Doctor- not you, the other Doctor.  You know what I mean.”

Spencer nodded- then he, in all of his genius, remembered that Penelope could not see him.

“What did you find?” he asked, pulling his legs up on his office chair.  He hadn’t left the university grounds after his fight with you and his call with Garcia.  You had left.  He was sure of it.  His office window gave him a great view of the parking lot, and hence, a great view of you leaving.  Reid, on the other hand, had stayed inside his office waiting for this second call.

“Well, it looks like you may have some competition in the doctorate department.  Doctor (L/N),” she stressed your title, “Also has three PhDs- one in criminology, one in law, and one in- get this- English Literature.  They’ve written a few really good articles, mostly on crime stuff, but also on Pride and Prejudice.  And oh, their takes on Elizabeth and Darcy- it’s enough to make a girl swoon.”

“Okay,” Spencer sighed.  None of this would help him get back at you- most of it was knowledge he could attain with a casual google search, “What else do you have for me?”

“Well, our dear Doctor is active in the community.  They help ex-cons get GEDs in their spare time, they donate to various charities and nonprofits, they support the local arts. They've got a lot of hobbies, they enjoy Halloween a lot- oh, and their mom is super proud of them.”

“What else, Garcia?”

“They have two cats, a couple siblings, a few nieces and nephews- it looks like they’re good with kids.”

“This isn’t relevant,” Spencer groaned, trying to hide his frustration.  He was looking for ways to get under your skin the way you had gotten under his.  He didn’t need to know every nice thing about you.

“Hey, you want kids, don’t you pretty boy?”  A deep voice that was very much not Garcia’s came over the line.

“Morgan is here, by the way,” at the very least, Penelope had the decency to sound a little embarrassed.

“I can hear that.  How long has he been listening?”

“Long enough to hear that you and this Mystery Professor would make a good match.  I mean, where else are you gonna find someone with three PhDs and a face like that?”

Spencer could hear Garcia’s gasp, even though she had pulled away from the phone.  When she spoke again, her voice was playful, “We’re looking for him, not for you.  What would Savannah say?  What should I say?”

“Easy baby girl, I’m just letting our boy know that I approve.”

“Hold on,” Spencer’s voice broke through the bickering of his former co-workers, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I am not interested in (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Oh?  Then whyfore the background check, boy genius?”

“Is something wrong, Reid?”

“No, no, it’s nothing- it’s not like they’re a threat to my safety or anyone’s safety.  They’re just…”

“Just what, kid?”

Spencer drew in a sharp breath, trying to keep his cool.  He had to be calm- collected.  He couldn’t let Derek and Penelope know that you were so deep under his skin, inside the tissue of his brain, that he couldn’t stop thinking about you.  He couldn’t keep his mind from running back to the image of your face, glaring at him as you took the typewriter from his hands.  They would get the wrong idea.  The entire wrong idea.  So, Spencer had to remain cool.

He immediately failed.

“They’re just really fucking annoying, okay!?”

“Damn, kid!  Okay!  What did they do, tell you that Doctor Who was just okay?”

“No, you don’t get it-” Spencer hissed, flopping further into his chair as he proceeded to rant about the entire typewriter thing.  He quoted you word for word, too- of course he did, eidetic memory.  Once he finished, Morgan and Garcia seemed to take on a new understanding of the situation.

“I see!  This wasn’t a love call, but one for information!!  A stockpile of knowledge for devious pranks- that is why you called, right?  You need info for getting back at the lovely Professor?”

“Yes-!  They aren’t lovely, but yes.”

“Kid, anyone who can make you write emails is lovely in Garcia’s book.”

“Listen to your local Morgan, Reid- now, do you have a revenge plot already?”

“Sort of?”  Spencer shared his plans with Garcia, smiling to himself at the sound of her laugh.  His brand of humor didn’t usually get that reaction. 

“Sounds perfect, Reid- I can help with that, but I’m gonna need a secure connection, Dr. (L/N)’s email address, and everything you know about the benefits of handwritten notes.”

Once the plan was fully fleshed out, Spencer hung up the phone and finally, finally made his way out of his office with a rare spring in his step.  His plan was set.  The trap was in place.  Your beloved technology would be your downfall.  As he stepped onto the Metro, he had to keep from cackling like an overdramatic villain.  He was at a high point, and he really didn’t want to be arrested for causing a disturbance.  

Meanwhile, back at Quantico, Morgan and Garica looked at each other, the now silent phone placed between them.

“So, those two are-”

“They are perfect for each other, yes.”

“We’ve gotta help him.”

“Absolutely.  Hey, once they get together, do you think he’ll introduce me?  I want to talk to Dr. (L/N) about their Pride and Prejudice hot takes.”

“Careful, Garcia.  We’re shopping for him, not for you.”

“Hey, I just appreciate a person who can see the true nuances in one Fitzwilliam Darcy!  And I wanna know which film adaptation is their favourite.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Rossi’s voice came from the door of Garcia’s office, “The rest of us have been ready to go for fifteen minutes.  What’s the hold up?”

“Nothing, Rossi.”

“We just found a perfect match for one Spencer Reid.”

“Really?  Interesting.  Tell me more later.  Let’s go.”

-

Two days later, you opened your PowerPoint slides only to find a presentation about the benefits of handwritten notes.  Everything you had in place for that day was gone.  All that was in its place was a genuinely well-crafted presentation about how writing notes by hand was better for attention retention and memorization.  

Honestly, you couldn’t even get that mad.  It was a good presentation.  

Still, you had a reputation to maintain.

You bit your lip and crossed your arms, becoming the picture of barely contained rage.  You took a deep breath, turning to your students and slapping a strained smile across your lips.

“Forgive me, my lovely students, but given this sudden turn of events, I’m just going to cancel class for today.  The correct notes will be on the class website later.”

You made your way to the door, leaving all your belongings behind in your haste, “Enjoy your afternoons, I’m going to go stab Dr. Spencer Reid.  In the throat.  Have a good day!”

A few students gave quiet, confused farewells.  Others leaned over to each other and whispered, “Stabbing is a sex thing, right?”

Technically, they were correct.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

[anonymouse5]

could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader

i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,

if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me

ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY

hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3

(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)

here you go:

Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?

Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.

It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.

Nope. It just gets worse.

You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.

“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.

But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.

“Wait,” he calls.

Despite yourself, you turn to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.

You bite back your immediate “yes”.

“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.

He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.

“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”

“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.

“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.

Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.

“Just trust me,” James says.

You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.

He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.

“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.

The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.

“It worked then?” he asks.

You give him a thumbs up.

He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:

You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?

There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES

You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.

The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.

#marauders era #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fic

[the-himawari-otome]

[Piofiore: Episodio 1926] Character Drama CD Vol. 3 Orlok Translation

Track 3: Heute ist die beste Zei.

Summary: Orlok realizes what this growing feeling inside of him means...

Translated by ear so it might not be 100% accurate.

･ﾟ･:,｡★ translation under the cut ★,｡･:･ﾟ

*sfx: door closes*

“Meow”

—Ah. I’m home. So you were awake. I’ll get his food ready. You keep Notte company, alright?

*sfx: walks over*

“Meow, meow”

Here. From today on, this will be your plate. The two of us chose it together.

*sfx: places plate down*

“Meow”

Mm, it looks like he likes it for now. Is the food good?

“Meow, meow, meow”

Hm? Ah, are you saying you want to share your food with us?

“Meow”

Um, Notte. I’m happy, but she and I already ate so don’t worry. Eat up, okay? I also bought some toys, so let’s all play together later.

Hm? What’s wrong?

Eh? Ahh, I guess you’re right. It feels like he’s gotten bigger than when he first arrived. Kittens sure grow fast. I feel like his fur became a bit nicer too. It’s pitch black and beautiful. Plus, I think he’s gotten cuter since the beginning.

Hm? Why are you smiling? I’m a doting parent? Ngh, I don’t think so though…

“Meow… meow”

Ah, Notte climbed on your lap again. He’s been doing that a lot lately, huh? I suppose he likes it?

“Meow”

It looks like he feels good getting pet. It’s a bit unfair. I mean, I…

Eh? Ah—no, you don’t have to pat my head. Ah, it’s not that I don’t want you to… it’s just, I’ll get more and more spoiled…

Ngh, well… just a little then…

Mm, that feels nice. I really love your hands.

It’s because you held my hands—it’s because you didn’t shake off my hands—that I’m here right now. You have no idea how many times these hands which are smaller than mine have saved me.

Ehe, thank you. I’ve had my fill. Now if only Notte would get off your lap, it would be perfect—.

“Meow”

*sfx: licks*

Ah—t-t-that’s not allowed! Ngh…

“Meow”

Notte, no licking her mouth.

“Meow”

Nope, no can do. After all, she’s my girlfriend. I’m the only one allowed to do those things—err, n-no. You should mind too. The mouth isn’t okay, even if it’s Notte. I don’t care if it’s childish. I want to do these things properly.

I-I’m not pouting.

“Meow”

Hm, Notte? *Sigh* he looks kind of sleepy. Even though we were discussing something important. Geez.

“Meow”

Ngh, I got it. I’ll take you to your bed, okay?

*sfx: walks away and comes back*

*Sigh*. Notte’s not fair. I’m always putting in tons of effort to hold back.

Ah, what I’m holding back on is probably different than what you’re thinking.

Huh? Well, that’s… at first, I was just happy holding your hand. My chest felt warm and fuzzy. I thought, ah, I want to protect this person—no, I will protect them. I was satisfied just being able to be by your side. That alone was enough. Even so, when I kissed you for the first time, my chest became all hot. My feelings of love for you grew more and more. I wonder when it started… the feeling that simply kissing you wasn’t enough grew larger. What should I do? What do I want to do? I wasn’t sure.

Before we came to England, back when I was working in Lienz, the shopkeeper did a lot to help us out, right? At that time, I had the opportunity to ask about a-a lot of things. And so… I feel like I came to understand what these feelings of mine meant.

—But how you feel is even more important, so…! I… don’t know how to put this. Up until now, there have been times where I kissed you whenever I wanted, wasn’t there? Even if it troubled you, you didn’t stop me. Because of that, I thought that you would definitely spoil me and forgive me, and I was sure that you… also felt good when you kissed me… since you loved me. So what I want to do now… is… w-what comes after that. If you don’t want to, then we won’t.

*sfx: hugs*

Ah, h-huh? You surprised me by hugging me so suddenly. You’re kind of like Notte.

Ehe, how cute.

Hey, when you’re hugging me like this, I don’t feel as nervous as I did before. However… now, my heart races much more than before.

I want to treasure you. I love you the most in the entire world. That’s why…

That’s why…

*sfx: kiss*

Let’s… do… what comes after kissing.

---

[DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WORK W/O PERMISSION, THANK YOU]

#piofiore #piofiore no banshou #piofiore episodio 1926 #piofiore orlok #orlok #this was in my drafts for like over a year... omg #better late than never I suppose #i was listening to this in the car recently and started screaming #so here it is for the world to enjoy

[firehousefreak911]

Out of It

You’d been feeling out of it for a few days. You tried to hide it because you didn’t want to worry your husband. He had enough on his plate with being a firefighter, being a dad and everything else going on. Eddie was an amazing man.

You had woke up early to cook breakfast for Eddie before his shift at the firehouse. You had just flipped his pancake when you suddenly became nauseous and dizzy. You grabbed the counter and held it.

“Good morning beautiful” you heard your husband say entering the room

“woah, y/n are you ok? You don’t look to good” he said rushing over to you and leading you to the chair at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, I’m fine I just got a little dizzy, thats all” you said putting on a small smile, your eyes couldn’t hide the truth though. Eddie sat down next to you. He grabbed your wrist and started checking your pulse.

“Honestly Eddie I’m fine, there is no need to worry”

“Y/n, you look weak and exhausted. You have barely ate anything the last few days, and I know you’ve tried to keep it from me but I can tell you haven’t been feeling good. What’s going on?” Eddie asked, his eyes screaming with worry. He pushed hair back behind your ear. He caressed your cheek. Just then your step son Christopher comes in the room.

“Is everything ok dad?” He ask.

“Yeah buddy, Y/n just doesn’t feel good, Carla should be here soon to get you, why don’t you go get ready for school?” He tells him and Christopher goes to get ready.

“Talk to me, beautiful” he pleads.

“I honestly don’t know, I’ve been nauseous and out of it the last few days. I can’t even stomach the thought of food” you admit.

“Well how about we schedule you an appointment and get you checked out today?” He suggests.

“But Eddie you have to go to work, you have a shift”

“I can talk to Bobby he will understand, I can always go in after the appointment.” You agreed.

Eddie finished the food and got Christopher fed and out the door. He called Bobby and explained everything. Bobby was more than understanding. You had gotten an appointment for 12:30 so Eddie made you go back to bed until it was time to get ready.

~

As you sat in the waiting room you grew nervous. You have always hated doctors. Eddie squeezed your hand and gave you a soft smile.

“I’m sure everything is ok, its probably just a little bug” he said.

“Diaz?!” The nurse yelled. You and Eddie stood up and headed back.

In the room you got situated. The nurse started asking questions.

“So what seems to be the problem today?”

“Well Ive been nauseous and dizzy, I had no appetite.” You said

“Oh and her pulse was super high earlier” Eddie added.

“Ok any other symptoms?” She asked.

You shook your head no.

“Is there any possibility of pregnancy?” She asked.

You froze, Eddie looked at you, you tried doing the math in your head.

“Um I don’t know, I’m not sure” you said.

“Alright well we will get some blood and do a test” the nurse says. She leaves the room.

Eddie jumps up from his chair and walks over to you.

“We could be pregnant?” He asked.

“Yeah, I guess, that didn’t even cross my mind, but I guess it makes sense with the symptoms. Are you mad?” You asked, afraid of his reaction.

“I couldn’t be anymore happier than I am right now!” He said cupping your face.

“Really?” You asked surprised.

“Yeah. I know we never talked about having more kids but now that we are I’m thrilled” he says, kissing you again.

The nurse comes back and takes the blood. She says they will call you with the results. You 2 stop for lunch on the way home and then Eddie heads to work. You tell him you will call home when you find out the results.

Its about 3 oclock when you receive a phone call.

You were pregnant! You wait for Christopher to get home from school and then the 2 of you head to the 118.

You pull in the parking lot and help Christopher out. You head inside. You walk in and you help Chris up the stairs. Chimney greets you first. Which gets Eddie’s attention. He rushes over to you. He gives Chris a hug and then kisses your cheek. Chris is distracted by whatever game Buck is playing. So Eddie leads you away.

“I’m surprised to see you, is everything ok? Did the doctor call?” He ask.

You can feel your smile spread across your face as you tell him what the doctor said. He wraps you in a hug and kisses you. After a few minutes alone he leads you back to the group. He sits down in the arm chair, you perch on the arm next to him. He nudges your arm and motions for you to sit in his lap. He wraps his arm around you and places it on your stomach. This surprises you because Eddie isn’t much for PDA or being overly romantic in public much less work.

“Hey everyone, we have an announcement!” He says, after clearing his throat. Everyone stops and looks at you. Buck pauses his game and Christopher comes over to you.

You look at Eddie and you take a deep breath.

“Christopher is going to be a big brother!” You say.

Everyone processes what you said. You and Eddie stand up as one by one the 118 congratulates and embraces you!

#911fanfic #eddie diaz x y/n #edmundo eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz x reader #edmundo x y/n #edmundo eddie diaz x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie daiz #edmundo eddie diaz #edmundo diaz #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #edmundo diaz x y/n

[rosedominatesyou]

Bedtime Stories w/ Rose

ੈ✩‧˚ Turkish Coffee ‧˚ੈ✩

(Bedtime Story #3)

Good evening my pretty puppies. I’ve got another interesting tale for you. You all voted pretty heavily for this one, probably thinking you’ll hear about me in a little maid outfit ;3 Remember to keep this story in your likes until you are all cozy and ready for bed.

Before reading: Everything I’m about to say is real and actually happened. I’ve withheld things like certain locations and last names to be respectful to the people in the story.

This time in my life I’m about to describe 100% shaped me as a person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it didn’t all happen. I kept an extensive journal the whole time and have written hundreds of pages already about my experience, hoping that one day I might publish my story. Though there’s so much I could say, I will try to summarize it within a 20 minute read.

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

Please look up the song, “So Wie Du Bist” by MoTrip. A song I heard on the radio while on public transit in Germany, its title translates into, “Just The Way You Are.”

I went through a pretty intense existential crisis my senior year of high school. Everything felt so bleak. I felt like nothing really mattered anymore.

My whole life, my parents were preparing me for college. One day at the dinner table in grade 12, I asked them if they would help me send in some applications. They laughed at me, and told me there was no way they could afford to send me to a university. I felt like they had lied to me my whole upbringing. What was the point of all the pressure if I wasn’t going to be anything anyway? How could they laugh like that?

My sister had just gotten back from an au pairship in Germany that was organized through a family friend, and during this same dinner conversation, my parents asked me if I was interested in doing that as well.

With no real goals anymore and spending my days sitting on the couch talking to my online friends on Xbox Live, I said fuck it, why not? I signed the paperwork and I would be sent out at the end of July. I didn’t know any German, but I was told that the point of being an au pair was to do a cultural exchange, where they’d teach me German and I’d expose them to regular English.

The contract I signed laid out two distinct parts of my job: to help the two children I’d be living with with their homework, and to be a live-in maid for the household. The plan for my days was always the same: get up at 8am and do any housework that the mom, Mrs. K, assigned to me, and then be ready to tutor the kids once they got home from school.

Things don’t ever turn out like we expect. We have all these ideas and hopes for how it’ll be, but we never really know. We can only guess and wait and see.

The family I was living with wasn’t German, they were a Turkish family and exclusively spoke their own language in their household. One of the first Turkish words I learned was “Anne”, meaning ‘Mom’. The second was “Yok”, which means ‘No’. The blue Turkish ‘Evil Eye’ will always make me think of them, as it was very important to their culture and had to be able to be seen no matter where you were in the house; they were everywhere, above every door frame, and in every room.

Mr. K was a dentist, and their family lived a very well-off life because of it. They owned two Porsche’s and their home was gorgeously modern: 4-stories tall with one level being a fully furnished basement. The color pallet of the home was white, with the outside being red brick. The walls on the ground floor that made up the kitchen and living room were essentially just massive windows, floor to ceiling all around the house, with huge zombie-esk shields that could be raised to cover the windows at night.

I was their little American trophy, and they loved to bring me to their friend’s homes for dinner to show me off. “Say word!” they’d encourage me.

The children I took care of were the most monstrous spoiled little brats I had ever met. The girl (I’ll call her D) was 12 years old at the time, and the boy (I’ll call him C) was 14. Two very hormonal ages for a kid and they had to suddenly spend half of their time at home with me. Originally, they were very insecure about their English, but they were both actually pretty smart, and could speak it very well. Our homework time was called ‘learning’ and they would always fight with eachother over who would have to go first.

The girl would throw tantrums regularly. If she didn’t get exactly what she wanted, she’d start stomping her feet and screaming her head off. One time when we went into town, she wanted to buy an umbrella from the store, and her mom said no. “Yok!” She was on the floor, kicking and screaming in front of everyone about how she never gets what she wants.

She was such a silly girl with me sometimes though, always wanting to laugh and poke-fun instead of learning. We’d be trying to do her vocabulary and she’d be asking me all sorts of things that had nothing to do with school.

“She messes with me by asking me random questions that throw me off. We spent the last 10 minutes laughing about how her cardigan made her look like a bat when she spread her arms out.”

The boy was devilishly smart, but his parents expected too much of him which caused him to slink away a lot. He would say some pretty racist things to me at times, things that would make me use google translate to try to show him how horrible his words were. He was well aware. The boy also had a silly side though, and would get so distracted during our learning time with questions just like his sister. They hated it when I said that they were very alike.

“C spent the first 8 minutes very eager to kill the fly stuck in the room. Once I got him to finally sit down, I had to stop teaching every six words because C wanted to talk to me about Destiny.”

My room was basically an apartment, located in “level 0” as I called it in my journal in the basement of the house. It had its own entranceway to outside, as well as my own kitchen and bathroom. It was pretty cool, and things were going really well until about a month into my stay.

The family planed a trip for all of us to go to the nearby city of Köln, or better known to most with the French spelling as Cologne. The Köln Dom is a very famous cathedral in the city, and we climbed all the way to the top to see the view, spending the day walking around and eating local food. It was wundershön. Towards the end of the day, when we were at a restaurant having dinner, one of the daughters of the family friends we knew invited me out to a night club later that evening.

I asked Mr. and Mrs. K if I could go, and much to my surprise, they said yes.

It was close to 9pm when N and her brother came and picked me up. We went to one of their friend’s house first to pregame. We sipped mixed drinks while we watched some of them play FIFA. It made me feel so cool. I was only 18, but the drinking laws were much different in Germany than they were in the states, so even though I wouldn’t be able to legally drink for another 3 years back home, I was of age here.

The club was exactly what I hoped from the underground German-club scene. The U I think it was called, we all piled together in an elevator that was crammed full of 30+ people that took us to the top of a skyscraper. The bouncer gave me the craziest look when I showed him my California ID. One of the boys we were there with snuck in a whole bottle of vodka that we all took turns drinking from as we danced. It was my first time in a club, and also the first time a random stranger started grinding on me.

Things were going great, until they weren’t. No one knew they needed to take care of me. I didn’t know either until my legs stopped working. I had never had that much freedom to drink alcohol in public, but the laws in Germany start at age 14 for supervised drinking, so all of them assumed I had been used to alcohol for years. We were leaving when my legs gave out. I don’t remember much after that. We were suddenly in the car and N was handing me a water bottle. Then they were telling me I was home, and to get out. They asked me if I was going to be okay, and I confidently waved at them and wished them goodnight.

I woke myself up by vomiting everywhere in bed. There was no time to run to the bathroom, it just happened before my eyes were open.

One of the rules in the house was no closed doors. The kids had to leave their’s open at all times (which made me really sad for their developmental needs), but that also went for me as well. I shut my door and went upstairs to have breakfast with the family. I forgot and started working on my cleaning duties when D came running up to me, saying that Anne was very upset. She saw my door closed and went in to check, seeing the throw up on the sheets.

This moment unfortunately changed everything. I was a good girl. I worked very hard. I never wanted to do a better job in my life. But now I was labeled as irresponsible, and lost my privileges to sleep in the apartment room. They made space for me at the other side of the basement, in a cold, windowless room that didn’t have any furniture, just boxes and the kids old toys meant for storage.

“It’s a strange feeling to wake up reaching for your stuffed animal and to remember that you’re not home. It’s even stranger when it’s in a bed that’s not even a bed. One that I woke up in this morning, sprawled out across two couches in the abandoned toy room of my host family’s basement.”

The days got bleaker from there. I had to keep track of any work that I did, writing down the exact amount of minutes in a calendar to make sure I did enough work. Some days, Mrs. K wouldn’t give me anything to do, and I would be standing there in front of her begging to assign me a task. She’d wave her hands and go back to watching her soaps, leaving me to just go sit somewhere and wait. There were days I only did 2 hours of work, when I had to get 6 done each day. It started to become a real burden to me. They would make me write down the hours I didn’t complete, even on days that they blatantly told me that they didn’t have anything.

The negative hours were adding up. At the end of it all, I had 14.3 hours they expected me to somehow fulfill. There were days where I worked 10 hours of just cleaning trying to make up the time.

“What am I supposed to do? How is that fair? How can they tell me that when I’m standing there asking for work and they say no? I’m more stressed out than I have ever been. I hope this is one of those things where if you face the storm and just keep moving then everything will clear and it’ll be okay.”

However terrible I felt, I did start to get used to our routine. Once the kids were done with their homework, it was my free time, and I eventually started taking the spare house key and announcing I was headed out. I knew they couldn’t stop me. I would walk around the neighborhood until it started to get too dark and I’d sluggishly take myself back home.

A river went through their backyard, and on the other side was a large city-owned cemetery. I would walk about 15 minutes down the road to the entrance, always making my way to a specific bench that faced one of the gravestones. I loved talking to her. It felt good to say so many things in English. People would see me and I just hoped they assumed I was grieving; they always let me be, which I truly appreciated so much.

The last straw was sometime in November. The plan was that I was supposed to be there through Christmas, and I had already experienced an Oktoberfest which was really very exciting, but I ended up filing for breach of contract and leaving early.

Their house was always under construction. There were workmen there doing something every single day, hammering or drilling or doing some kind of panelling. They didn’t like when they accidentally hired German workers - Mr. K only wanted them to be Turkish. A German boy named Ray struck up a conversation with me one day he was there doing landscaping at the house, but he was never invited back. I had dreams about running away with him, having him save me from the life I was living.

I was sitting in the kitchen one morning when Mrs. K pointed at the backyard for me to look. A dump truck was coming into their large yard and unloading dozens of uncut logs. I watched them for a moment and then asked, “Workers?” Mrs. K looked frustrated and said, “No workers. You!”

I wasn’t as strong as I am now, but even still, it was too much work for a single person to do. Winter was coming, and it snowed heavily in Germany so the family needed lots of firewood for the next several months. She had me hauling and stacking the logs in the shed behind the house all by hand. I wasn’t even halfway through the mountain of wood before I started to feel dizzy, my vision was fading and I was afraid that i’d pass out on top of the pile if I didn’t go inside.

I made the mistake of calling my mom. She freaked out, and when I woke up from my exhaustion nap, the damage was done. She called everyone involved, and had already bought me a plane ticket home. There was no changing it now.

D used to text me constantly after I got home, sending me videos of herself asking me over and over again, “When are you coming back?”

There’s so many things I regret about what happened in Germany. So many things I wish I could have handled differently. But there’s also so many amazing things that I was so happy to go see and do.

I loved Mrs. K’s cooking. I would do a little dance everytime we sat down to eat and it would make her smile so much. No one ever said thank you to her, so I always made sure to thank her for the meals she made. Her authentic Turkish cooking was to die for. Lamb and rice with dill and her brown lentil soup were my favorite.

I earned 1 vacation day every month I was there, so I eventually was able to save up 3 vacation days, and also used my 1 day off during a specific week to take a bus to London. It drove all through the night and then got on the ferry to cross the English Channel.

The whole experience living with this family made me very good at understanding people without English. It was incredibly difficult at first, of course, but I work with a lot of vendors at my current job where English is not their first language, and no matter what they speak, I will not have a hard time talking to them.

Even when things were rough between me and the K’s, we all still had lots of good moments. Just like any family. I know that they think about me just as much as I think about them.

“It’s amazing to not speak the same language, but still be able to understand a person’s emotions and body language. It really shows how we are all the same species, and all humans are very much the same. All of our laughs say the same thing too, and I think that’s really beautiful.” That’s the end of our story my sweet angels. I know it probably wasn’t what you were expecting, but I still hope you enjoyed it. Mommy got very good at cleaning windows because of these days in her life. Thank you again for reading, and I hope to hear what you think. ❤️

Sleep well babies xoxo

~'*•.¸♡¸.•*'.・。゜✭・.・✫・。.'*•.¸♡¸.•*'~

#rosebtstory