#the chef liked cooking for me because I was always so thrilled with whatever he did | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eldritch-spouse · 2 years

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Idk if asks are open but I've had thot's about morell (I think that's how you spell it) and just hear me out. Got kinda long sry

Morell with a s/o that while being completely human has a regenerative healing factor, maybe it's a gift from some god? A deal with a demon? Who knows. That allows them to regrow limbs/organs at neck break speeds. (as long as it's not a direct blow to the head/heart or something.) Who, and get this, gets off on the pain of losing said limbs/organs? Eh, ehh?

Morell gets to cut up and possibly cook up his darlin and they get something in return? This might be stupid, my gay ass just simps for big stronk mushroom man so bad!! I lomf him your honor!

[God I am so into this, it's concerning. This ask is making me froth at the mouth, I'm gonna go balls to wall on this one.]

(Minors dni)

TW: Cannibalism; limb removal; sadism; gore of varying degrees; non-consensual sex acts; Morell.

Putting everything under a read more because I will inevitably wax poetic about cannibal monsters. It is my weakness.

Let's say Morell gets really lucky.

Maybe you came in with a random batch of humans supplied to The Clergy and he just got lucky enough to have you sorted out to him. Or perhaps you're one of his personal catches, the humans he bothers to hunt on his own when he has the time. It doesn't quite matter, what matters is how you react to him when your captivity starts. Oh boy.

Not all humans are cooked at the same time. No no, he's not about to spoil every ingredient, the chef isn't crazy! Or rather, there's a method to his madness. Morell calculates everything very thoroughly, and as such, he always has a schedule for each human that is being held in captivity within the depths of his rather large warehouse. You could say he has everyone's days numbered. Due to this, you're likely to spend a couple of days being held in precarious conditions until it's your time to be chopped, depends on the customer demand really.

It starts when the chef comes into the warehouse. While everyone cowers as much as possible in their restraints, you're instead taken entirely by his presence. There's something powerful about this monster, something sick and vile and grotesquely attractive. He's brutish in the way he carries himself, like a jolly executioner, but his demeanor somehow carries a charm to it. A lure. You see Morell's eyes poise on everyone, and it's clear just from his gaze that no one here is a person to him. It's the most objectifying look you've ever seen in your entire life. Slabs of literal meat would be spared more dignified glances. It shamefully turns you on beyond measure. You know what this monster does, you know what he'll do to the poor man he's grabbing by the neck and leading outside, you know the blood on his smock belongs to a captive you once talked to here. You know what he'll do to you one day.

So why does it thrill you? Why isn't escape the first thing in your mind? Your morbid curiosity will be the death of you, perhaps.

Sometimes the mushroom monster doesn't enter the warehouse to fetch "ingredients". You've been witness to the incidents in which Morell is clearly looking for a different type of meal, inspections, taste testing as he puts it. The monster grabs whatever human looks the juiciest to him and starts truly playing, pawing at their body, wandering digits stroking and groping and slapping before they find a warm place to bury themselves in. Morell chuckles, coos, licks their tears and samples the soft skin of his piglet with feverish passion. Better yet are the times where he gets lost enough to bite. To draw blood and suck at it like a leech, coat his fingers in it, spread it on the pig's body like a fine painting. The way his fat cock throbs behind his smock is unmissable and endlessly exciting to you. You want to please him, be the one that makes him hard like that. You want him to do all those things to you and more.

You're sick. But no one will judge you in this pit of Hell, will they?

The number of human captives starts diminishing, you've been spared as one of the last remaining trio. Some irrational part of you screams that Morell simply isn't interested in you. That, for whatever reason, he thinks you'd make a bad meal or aren't "ripe" enough. They're saddening thoughts. Said assumptions are wiped away when he enters the warehouse once again. You could hear his steel-toed boots on the ground and the noise itself was enough to get you riled up. You're pretty sure the other captives know you're fucked up by now, but what change does it make in the end? Morell walks in with a pondering look, hand on his chin as he examines every one of you carefully. You know this process, he's picking, for future meals.

Guess who's the lucky one today? Little old you! Took him long enough.

You have to bite your lip when the shroom looms over you, cheeks colored ruby and breath getting caught in your throat. He's so much bigger this close, so much more intimidating, you can even see all the patterns on his skin! Morell glances at you as if there's something very clearly wrong, probably because of the contortion of your facial features as you try not to be too obvious about your arousal. Or maybe he's just surprised you haven't started begging and crying yet. With a shrug, the chef finally puts his hands on you, inspecting your face, your legs, arms and midsection like you're no more than an product sample.

" Got a fine rump, have ya piggy? A juicy cut o' this oughta put a dent in anyone's wallet! " He murmurs when he turns you around, a firm hand kneading your ass like dough. God, you're so turned on. When he slaps your right cheek hard enough to make anyone see stars, you scream loudly, unable to mute the lurid moan that escapes right after.

He could cut the ensuing silence with his cleaver.

Morell's breathing audibly picks up as he crowds you further. " That was more than a squeal, piglet. " He taunts, equal parts shocked and pleased. " Ya like that? " The monster now smooths a gentle palm over the bruised skin of your ass, spreading tingles of pain wherever it touches. All you can do is nod shamefully, rising hearty laughter from him. When a daring hand sneaks to the front of lower your body, he confirms what he suspected, you're more than aroused. The look on the chef's face is nothing short of unadulterated, primal glee. You're clutched hard enough to force a whimper out before he comes to his senses. " Yer due soon, my little piggy. "

And he leaves you like that.

The other captive humans refuse to speak to you from then on, but it's not like anything of value was lost. The big day couldn't come soon enough for you. You wanted to see how the chef would react to your abilities so bad! When Morell drags you into his kitchen by the neck, your heart thunders wildly in your ribcage, perhaps loud enough that he could hear your pulse.

He sweeps you off your feet and dumps you into the large cutting board square in the middle of his kitchen as if you weight less than a feather. With your hands tied and legs quickly knotted together by the chef, there's not much you can do but squirm in place like a worm. Not that you feel the need to. The look Morell spares you is different from the ones he usually gives his other pigs, not that you'd know. He starts by saying that he's proud of you. That you were never a troublemaker no matter the circumstances. You're obedient, quiet and very good for him during the inspection. You deserve a more peaceful end, and Morell wants to make a deal with you-

Keep being good for him and the shroom will make you come hard in between every limb he takes. What a fucking stellar deal for someone that regrows body parts, eh? Nonetheless, you agree quietly, making Morell's eyes widen once again in shock before he's cooing condescendingly and planting a kiss to your forehead.

" Such a nice little piggy... " He praises, massive hands kneading at the plush of your body like dough. He rolls your tummy squish between his fingers and feels up your legs like a needy lover, but the look of predatory hunger is perpetually stapled onto his features. Even when he looks between your legs, it's more as if he's seeing a porkchop than your actual genitals. Those same big digits start their magic on your bits while Morell takes a marker to start labeling the spots he'll cut. You squirm on his hand, whining, but Morell only shushes you gently, speeding up the motions of his fingers and humming every time you mewl, not entirely focused on your reactions and more so concerned with getting the precise measurements.

" Good piglet- " The chef beams once you cry out and coat his fingers, sucking them clean before playfully slapping your sore nethers and gripping his cleaver. " Now, I want ya ta take a deep breath, and think happy thoughts. Yer not gonna miss that leg much, trust me. " There's a slur to his words.

The long blade shines brightly once he raises it in the air, your pinprick pupils reflected on immaculate steel. You make a garbled sound, unsure if it was panic or arousal that ripped it out of your throat. When the blade zips down, faster than your poor human sight can perceive, an explosion of sensation has your eyes rolling back into your skull. It's endless torturous pain mixed with this sweltering inferno of pleasure that has your body trembling in shocks of heat.

You scream, and you moan loud- A screech of pained elation that triggers a smaller orgasm out of you. Even if your head is buzzing and fuzzy, you can hear the chef clearly panting beside you, caressing the exposed flesh of your thigh where he made the severing cut. The fucker has the nerve to finger your wound, he's looking at the gnarled flesh like he wants to stick his cock in it. Why does that just turn you on more? Morell watches a river of blood spread on the cutting board and, instead of rushing to cauterize the massive damage, the mushroom just swoons at it, free hand coming down to push his work smock away so he can paw at his raging boner through his dark pants. You almost missed this, blood loss making you dizzy. Though you do get to see the large monster grab your leg and place several hungry kisses upon it, murmuring sick promises to the body part.

" Fer me, this one's aalll mine. Too good, can't sell, such a lovely cut- "

This monster is disgusting, irredeemable. The way he gets off on this like it's the erotic show of a lifetime makes you want to vomit. But it also makes you pulse with amoral arousal. By the time the chef has deposited your leg somewhere out of sight, he comes back with a nasty bloody grin on his dark face, probably intent on cutting off your other limb. He gets to see most of your severed leg already regenerated, flesh and skin finally covering the phalanges of your foot.

Morell blinks. Stares at the leg he just laid on the counter, then back at the perfectly repaired flesh before his eyes. There's a half-smug look on your face as you watch him process this.

" Piglet... " He starts, in a tone akin to a parent playfully chastising their child. " Is there somethin' ya wanna tell me? "

You shyly begin explaining your condition, keeping the details of how you acquired it mainly to yourself. Not that Morell seems to care, he's far too ecstatic about it, already caressing different parts of you with a pensive, eager look. You don't tell him you get off on it, but judging by the miserable, needy state of your privates, Morell can probably tell by now.

" I guess ya just earned yaself a permanent place in my kitchen then, sweetcheeks! " He snaps his finger. " What a fuckin' catch, eh? Luck o' the draw- "

You couldn't secretly be happier.

The chef takes your hand in his for a moment, undoing the ropes around your wrists. When he brings it up to his mouth, you make perhaps the most foolish assumption that he's about to kiss it. Instead, you get to see an array of bold blunt teeth for a flash before half of it is mercilessly torn off.

Dearest God, the pain.

And yet, getting to observe the monster audibly crunch through your bones, roll the taste of you over his tongue with unfiltered glee and groaning before he swallows the mouthful- Well, more like handful- Just makes you squirm in place with want. You hope you taste good.

Studying the way your remaining stumps of fingers twitch and spasm, wrist trapped in his firm grasp, he's bending further to lick at the gory mess. Those inhuman eyes promise nothing but swift bloody pleasure as Morell regards your shivering, panting form. You don't make an effort to regenerate the appendage.

" I think we'll be tha best o' pals. "

When the shroom begins lowering your ruined hand below the waist band of his pants, you can only moan quietly in pure excitement.

Maybe this really is where someone like you belongs, surrounded by other sickfucks.

#Morell oc #I need therapy and jesus #terato #yandere monster #gore tw #not sfw #nsft #takottai

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girlstacian · 2 years

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Sukunas Ryomen Love Interest or Type of Girl? (or could he) - Jujutsu Kaisen

First, let's take a quick look at a few facts✅ about him!

Sukunas Character & Behavior?

What we know is: He is selfish, narcissistic, cold hearted, brutal, immoral, sadistic, looking for a good fight/opponent to entertain and enjoy himself. And all just for the thrill! He does what he wants, has his own whims, interests and desires. He never thinks about it or the consequences. He just doing it! But how does it end for him or others? Doesn't interest him! (Reminds me a bit of a snotty kid or a kid who likes to destroy around/toys, like this one scene with the girl and her phone📱or he just has no hobbies? Oh boy, what a lost child) 😂🤦‍♀️

Does Sukuna have friends or any affiliations?

What we do know is: He belongs to no one neither nor on anyone's side but himself! He is a true lone wolf & loner. Who loves to look down on everyone! (Like the way he always sits on his throne and looks down at Yuji or Mahito from above as annoying little tots disturbing his territory.) 😩😂 He's just a natural disaster like Gege Akutami mentioned!

What does Sukuna love or like/what are his interests or hobbies?

What we do know is: According to Gege Akutami, his only pleasure or favorite pastime is eating. He loves to eat! 🍽 But also making threats and mocking people. (Can this really be a hobby? Not really... but okay, whatever xD)

Who is Uraume and what kind of relationship do they have?

What we know so far is: that he or she is a human who has known and stuck with Sukuna for a thousand years ago. Sukuna gave him/her permission to accompany him and become his subordinate. Since Sukuna also eats people (seems to be an omnivore xD) they are difficult to cook and prepare. But Uraume has this ability! (Who knows? could be a family-clan of Uraume who are chef cooks or something like that? Idk) Or Uraume just had this good talent for it and was allowed to stay alive. (Can't imagine Sukuna just letting someone or everyone alive like that.) Well, no one knows their relationship to each other, neither is it clearly mentioned or the gender of this person. But one thing is for sure, for Sukuna only the good food is important and how it is cooked. (Otherwise that's it with you and you're useless!) 😬

I personally think that Uraume is a man. Because of the male-like facial features, demeanor and clothes. A handsome, sweet-looking young man who looks like a woman. Like this one guy with this wild boar mask from the anime Demon Slayer 🤣👌

Does he have/had a wife or show any form of interest?

The fact is: He has no wife 👰 or children 👶 in his previous life. Confirmed by Gege Akatsumi in an interview. What we also know about Sukuna by himself. He slaughters🔪 women and children and insults them as an insect - maggots. (Sounds more like a misogynistic serial killer?) Because it is.

Although…🤔 not sure but I heard he likes strong women or women with strong will and dignity. Similar to DragonBall Chichi & Goku, Bulma & Vegeta etc (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN xD). I somehow saw that briefly in a scene with Nobara, if I didn't misheard or misunderstood? 🤷‍♀️ Unless it was meant differently. Perhaps such women are best suited only to tease, to anger them, for his sadistic entertainment. 😤

So what have we learned or discovered so far?

Right. He doesn't show any interest! Not really...😑

Okay, now on to another topic!

Now that we have listed some facts, the next question is.

Could he show any interest or fall in love? (Is it possible or is he capable)

The fact is: YES & NO!

Nani, huh? 😲🤨

I'll tell you right away:

So it would be possible, but it also involves a high risk!⚠️ It will be very difficult and life-threatening to convince him. In any case, many who dare would fail in this attempt! Sukuna doesn't hesitate and makes short work (you'll be chopped into pieces)🔪 like the two girls from Geto. Especially if you bore, annoy or trying to flirt with him💋. You already robbed his time, neither will he fall for it!⏳ You have to be something special for him to get his attention. You would either have to be as strong as he is in order to surprise him, to make him speechless, so that he shows enthusiasm in you at all.😮 And he could suddenly, unexpectedly, develop some kind of interest that he doesn't know yet, neither understands but through his intelligence he may slowly begins to understand it? Or you're just as crazy as him and you know your way around wild beasts and you're a monster tamer or something like that xD (But even that wouldn't work! He can't be tamed, he hates orders). 😅 You should be stronger or smarter and more fearless than him so that he will listen to you or at least show you some respect. You would have to study him like a zoologist/biologist or go to geophysics XD😅 the easiest thing of all would be...just be MEGUMI. GOOD LUCK! 🤣🤣🤣👌

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Psst...! If you are unlucky and things go wrong?😬 Then I hope for you, you can cook very well like Uraume (preferably better than he/she) to stay alive and at least be at his side as a last hope? See it as a second chance! Otherwise you unfortunately drew the ass card🃏🤷‍♀️

#JujutsuKaisen #Jujutsu Kaisen #Sukuna #SukunaRyomen #Sukuna Ryomen #RyomenSukuna #JujutsuKaisenLoveInterest #JujutsuKaisenLove #JujutsuKaisenTypeOfGirl #SukunaRyomenTypeOfGirl #SukunaRyomenLoveInterest #SukunaRyomenWife #SukunaRyomenLove #Anime #Animes #Manga

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monadolaguz · 22 days

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So there's a new patient at the rehab I work at, he just got here last week, and on Tuesday night when he came up for dinner, he said "Load me up on food, dude, the nurses say i gotta get up to 200 pounds before I leave here and I'm at 135 right now." I told him I got his back, I've helped plenty of patients gain the weight they've lost to addiction back. He came back for seconds and thirds, and asked me to fill up a to-go box for him to put into the warmer so he could have some more proper food, not just snacks, later that night.

Now, technically I'm not supposed to do this. If a staff member comes up and asks a box to be put aside for a patient who is going to miss dinner, or a new intake, I can do that. But I'm not supposed to put food aside for patients who have already eaten. My former head chef, now supervisor, told me to "be careful of giving out extra servings to patients, they're addicts and are probably just trying to manipulate you". But like... Why is that bad? Who cares if they might be "manipulating" me for more food, whatever the fuck that means? If they want more food, and we have more than enough to spare, why is it so bad to set aside extra? They're in fucking REHAB. If my cooking is enough to get them by and help them recover, they should be able to eat as much as they want, right?

Anyways, this guy, he is so nice. He asked for thirds after we closed the line down last night, but I had set aside what was left of the entree because we had so much leftovers and I figured I or my head chef could use it as an alternative to the main entrees another night this week, so I went back and filled up a plate for him. Brought it back, he was THRILLED. I stopped to talk to him for a bit, told him I'm probably the only chef who will do this for him, he told me he knew, and had shown up 2 minutes late to breakfast that morning and my head chef refused to serve him. Told him "I ain't serving you, you were late." I told him he's a stickler like that, didn't say anything worse than that. My head chef is notoriously a dick (and a bigot but that's not relevant here). This guy told me his story, mentioned he's Italian, I told him a bit of mine, that my grandmom and dad are why I cook and they're Italian too, and that my pasta sauce recipe is my dad's that he modified from my grandmom's. He loved that, and said it tasted like home. I asked some of my girls who close on nights I'm not scheduled to ignore head chef and set aside a box for this guy if they can, because he needs it, and they said they'll take care of him.

Anyways, I just needed to vent a little. I don't understand why it's "against the rules" to take care of the patients who need it, and to feed the ones who want extra food extra food. They're in the darkest times of their lives, why not show them a little extra kindness? I will always break the rules if the rules are stupid and bad and stop me from helping people who need it.

#this was really long sorry #I just have a lot of feelings about this job #my team are so kind and lovely especially the younger employees #and the management is so cruel and awful #im trying to leave and find new work and have some good prospects but for now ill break all the rules i have to to keep the patients fed #what are they gonna do? fire me for being a decent human?

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jikseud · 3 years

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[17:26]

pairings: felix x gender neutral reader

wc: 2147

genre: fluff with a bit of angst if u squint hard.

warnings: mentions of cheating (?), y/n being an ass idk what else, pls lmk if there are things to include hehe

a/n: I don’t really write that often soooo...

“I don't get why characters in horror movies are this dumb,” I whispered to Felix as we were watching this horror movie that we randomly found on Netflix. I heard him chuckle softly at my statement.

“That just adds to the thrill and interest, I guess,” he replied. He kissed my temple before pulling me closer to him.

My phone suddenly rang on the first half of the movie. I quickly went to see who it was and my heartbeat immediately picked up its pace after seeing the caller ID being “My love💖”.

Okay, now we're starting...

I am turning into a such a nervous wreck right now. My hands are starting to shake and my heart is starting to beat so loud that I could basically hear it in my ears. I stood up, looking at Felix silently excusing myself. I walked a little towards our room's window -which is not too far from where he is- before picking up the call.

"Hello? Sorry, I'm with him right now. I'll call you later," I ‘said’ quietly to the 'person on the other line' before ‘hanging up’. I looked up at Felix to see his reaction and saw that he's looking at me so seriously I felt my knees buckle. I tried to smile at him but failed nonetheless.

“Who was that?” he asked. I opened my mouth to answer him but nothing came out as my throat went dry. He raised his eyebrows at me. I lowered my head.

Okay, here we go.

"I-," I tried to speak but I just couldn't find the words. I sighed before looking back up at him. "It's no one," I told him, still trying to calm myself. He then rolled his eyes at me.

“If you're going to fucking fool me like this, then do better. I'm not stupid, Y/N. I clearly saw the caller ID,” he replied harshly. “And "I'm with him"? Really Y/n? If you're going to do this to me, give a little respect at least.” he added and my legs shook at his tone.

“Then why'd you still ask if you knew already?” I talked back quietly, too weakly for my own liking. He snickered.

“Because I wanted you to explain yourself at least,” he said and I swallowed hard.

“What's there to explain, though. You've already seen it, it's all that there is,” I told him and he scoffed.

“You could've at least told me where I went wrong... where everything went wrong? Y/n, you can't do this and expect me to not ask you for any explanation, I'm not as stupid as you think I am," he paused a little before continuing, "On what aspect of this fucking relationship was I lacking, huh? Are you getting too bored with me that's why you did this? Am I not enough for you anymore that's why you decided to find another one? Am I not loving you enough for you do this to me huh, Y/n? I thought we were having something special? I thought you said I was and will always be the one for you? What happened, baby? When did everything change? When did things go wrong between us? What did they do to get you sway that easily?” he questioned, his voice shaking from hurt. I sighed, every word was like a stab in my chest. He looked at me, his eyes searching mine for some explanation… any reaction. When they didn't give him anything, he spoke once again.

“When did this start?” he asked. My breath hitched.

Well now, it’s working.

It took me a while to answer but I did when I saw that he was getting impatient. “Just today,” I answered, stifling my laugh. He looked at me confusedly and I looked back at him trying to hide my smile.

“What do you mean ‘just today’?” he asked again.

I can't take this anymore...

“It's a prank, you dumbo!” I told him as he sat there, his confusion clouding him even more. I sat back down beside him as I tried to hug him but I was shocked when he moved away from me. “Why?” I asked. He stared at me with such hatred now and I couldn't help but feel nervous once again with the look he's giving me.

“What do you mean ‘Why?’ Y/n?” he asked. “You talk as if I didn't just caught you cheating on me,” he said. I gasped.

“Baby, I told you, it was a prank,” I replied with hurt in my voice. He looked at me, still not trusting my words. “I'm serious, Lix. It's just a prank. Do you not trust me enough? Go on and check if you want. I could never do something like that to you, you know that,” I told him with shaking eyes as I handed him my phone. He gave me daggers while he took my phone in his hand. When he finally held my phone, I felt my hand start to shake a little harder as I retreat it back and I think he noticed it with the way he glared at me.

“If you're being honest then what are you so nervous for?” he asked me skeptically. My eyes shot up at him, looking at him with wide eyes.

“H-huh, who said something about being nervous, h-hah-ah. Pffft I'm not nervous, shut up,” I told him. He glared at me once again before going back to checking my phone. I saw him swipe from left to right, probably looking for something that would prove my innocence.

It took him a few minutes -because he practically opened every single app in it just to be sure- before finally getting to the last page where he saw the widget labeled "To the man I love the most.💖" that I had prepared for him. I looked at his face just to check his reaction and then I saw him looking at it confusedly. He stared at it for a solid five seconds while his thumb was hovering over it.

The widget looked like it was excitedly shaking from my point of view, just waiting to be finally pressed and when the thumb above finally clicked on it, that's when all hell broke loose.

My mind had gone crazy by the time he started reading it. Tons of thoughts clouding my head and spilling continuously out of it like a water inside a broken dam, just like how every feeling I had has been spilling on Felix at the moment...

The widget leads to my notes app wherein a letter is written in a pink background. A color I know he really loves.

“To my baby,

Hello, my love! It's weird talking to you like this because I wasn't really fond of letters and all these sweet things but for you, I'm alright being cheesy and all that. First of all, I'm so sorry if I ever hurt you in the process of this thing... whatever this is... whatever it is that I did before you finally get to read this poorly written letter of mine which contains everything that I wanted to say to you but couldn't because I'm too shy hngg *insert cute face right here*. Anyways, I hope that you finally believe me that what happened before this was all a prank (the proof is literally beside this widget which is the Fake Call app, so don't fuck with me). Felix Lee, aka my sunshine, my happiness, my everything... I wanted to thank you for being the best man ever for me. Thank you for making me happy everyday, for taking care of me and or loving me every single moment that you have. You are seriously the best guy I have ever met (next to Harry Styles, of course... kidding) and I love you for that. I am so thankful that the Gods have given you to me (yes, bitch I own you... lol kidding again... but I'm not sure if this'll still be a joke after this though) and I am so thankful that you decided to stay with me even though I'm just... me. Felix, I don't know what else to say but just know that I love you and every single thing about you. I love how you scrunch your nose up whenever I make an awful joke but still try to laugh just to satisfy me (you're evil btw). I love how you cook for me when I don't wanna just because I'm too lazy (yes chef, go off!!!). I love how your eyes lights up when you're talking about something you love and something that you reaaally love doing (a.k.a ME). I love how your hair looks in the morning and even when you always say that you hate it, you still look so beautiful nonetheless. I love your freckles as well because it feels like I am looking at a sky full of stars and you're the sun wtf does that makes sense though? There are many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how so... Anyways, what I'm trying to say here is that, you are so amazing that I don't know how to put your amazingness into words and that I appreciate everything that you are. I love you, Felix and thank you for making me the happiest person in the world. But do you mind making me happier by marrying me?”

By the time he was finished reading my shitass letter, he was shedding tears with a smile on his face. Weird combination, I know. But it is so unfairly unfair how he still looks beautiful looking like this.

He stared up at me with tears still flowing out of his eyes as I slowly took the ring off from my own finger.

“I don't know what else to say to you, to be honest. I am so bad with words and you know that. I love you, though. I could go on telling you this everyday just to show you how much but I'm afraid I'd have to go on forever so will you finally answer my question and marry me? I promise I'd try and learn how to cook so you won't have to anymore… oh and I will try not to complain as much when you leave too much mess in the house,” I tried to joke just to lighten up the mood but I was confused when he started bawling out. I felt my eyes burn from tears as well and I let a few escape from them. "Why are you crying, stupid?" I asked wiping his tears off. He glared at me before pulling me into a hug and crying loudly on my shoulders. “Baby, stop crying, please. I don't know what's happening but I'm going to bawl out as well if you continue,” I told him. He sniffled before pulling away slightly.

"You... you bitch, I hate you so much for doing this to me," he said in between hiccups. "I hate you so much," he told me before bawling and hugging me again. I laugh at his cuteness even though I felt my hands shake once again. His possible answer finally clouding my mind.

I rubbed his back before kissing his neck lightly. "So are you gonna answer my question or what?" I asked him, getting a little impatient now because of nervousness. He pulled away from me.

"I hate you so much. I was supposed to be the one doing this and not you. I hate you," he said despite his eyes showing the exact opposite and still crying them out. "But just because we're here already, I have no choice but to say yes, I guess? Because I'd probably feel so bad if I rejected your goodass offer," He joked. I glared at him. "Kidding. I'd say yes anytime, you know that. I'd say yes a billion... trillion times," he told me and I smiled before putting the ring on his finger. He smiled so wide seeing the piece of jewelry on his finger before taking my face on his hand and kissing me hard.

"I love you so much, y/n," he told me after pulling away. I closed my eyes, feeling the moment. I leaned my face more to his touch.

"I love you more, baby. More than you could even imagine," I replied.

"Your prank is shit by the way," he stated after a while in silence as I hit him on the chest.

“Shut up, I still got you with my acting skills and you don't know how nervous I am while doing that thing when I didn’t have a solid plan,” I told him and he scoffed.

"Sucks for you then," he replied.

"Yeah? Well, sucks for you I'm not sucking you."

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 2/3

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

You got up really early despite staying up late and only getting five hours of sleep max, but once you woke up, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get back to bed so you prepared for the day, waiting for Sukuna’s call. You went to the patio which faced the backyard, carried a small blanket and brought your battered copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s prose collection with you.

A few hour later, you heard stirring in the house and it wasn’t long before Satoru found you. He sat on the lounge chair opposite yours and just stared at you through sleepy eyes. He looked all disheveled, eyes bloodshot and yawning several times. He really couldn’t handle his alcohol and when he wakes up after drinking more than he could take, he always ends up befuddled and unable to make sense of his surroundings, not to mention irritable.

When he just sat there without saying anything and staring at you, you snapped your book close. “What is it?”

He snapped out of a seeming trance. “Oh. You have a guest.”

“Huh?”

“Ieiri said it’s Howard.” He yawned again, stretching his arms.

“Sukuna?”

“Yes, him.”

You scrambled off the lounge chair, nearly knocking it to the side with your weight as you half crawled, half-ran towards the door, suddenly remembering your agreement the previous night. You were mentally slapping yourself as you made your way into the hallway, planning to go up to your room to have a change of clothes. You weren’t sure what he wanted to do because he did not exactly specify that bit.

However, your plans did not come into fruition when you passed by the lattice wood and glass partition between the kitchen and the hallway and saw him.

“Y/N!” Ieiri pretty much yelled your name out, calling your attention and making you jump, startled. “Howard’s here.”

Sukuna glanced at her momentarily, probably catching the name she referred to him with.

The protest died in your throat when you saw Sukuna standing by the counter, looking so out of place in such a domestic setting although he was dressed casually in a black tee with a wide collar that exposed his collarbones for the world to see and faded jeans, similar to the one he wore that time he came to your school.

You grimaced at the realization that you were just standing there like an oaf, checking him out. It was evident in the way his smile morphed into a shy one as he bit his lower lip while Ieiri and Suguru grinned evilly at you. Feigning ignorance to their reactions, you entered the kitchen, brows knit together, shooting Ieiri an inquisitorial look after nodding at Sukuna’s direction. It was a dumb way of greeting people, but that was about what you could manage with the way your brain was being fried at the mere sight of him.

“I didn’t know we received guests in the kitchen now,” you commented, noticing the number of grocery bags on the counter. “You did the shopping?”

“I did,” Sukuna answered you. “I told you I was going to do something for you.”

“'You' being the technical term,” you said with a smirk when you realized what he was planning. “So you’re gonna cook for me?”

“Yes.”

You eyed your two friends who were eyeing Sukuna in anticipation. “Just me?”

“Stingy,” Ieiri commented, pouting.

Woman, you thought, eyeing her sternly in case she had plans to say something embarrassing. You spoke before she could say more, approaching Sukuna who was suddenly just looking at you, your eyes in particular. Out of a sudden, he reached out and touched the spot just under your left eye, making you step back at the sudden contact. He was touchy, you knew that, but you weren’t expecting him to be so candid in front of your friends on such a setting.

“Your eyes are swollen. Is something the matter?”

You smiled at him then, shaking your head. “I didn’t sleep enough last night.” You busied yourself by checking the things he bought. “So…” You looked at his pretty hands then at him. “The Spring God can cook?”

He gave you a funny look at the nickname you gave him. “Watch the Kitchen God work!” He chuckled then turned his attention to Ieiri. “I was just asking Ieiri if I could borrow the kitchen.”

“It’s more Suguru’s kitchen than hers,” you sniped at her who was now sitting on the counter, chin on the heel of her palm as she looked at the pair of you as if she was watching a really cheesy romance drama.

“Then it’s settled. I have to cook for them, too.” He ruffled your hair then. “Mind helping me?”

“I’ll leave you kids then,” she said sounding like a mom, leaving the kitchen and blocking Satoru’s progress when he was about to enter, leading him out into the living room much to the latter’s annoyance.

You shook your head, snickering. You really couldn’t wrap yourself around the fact that Sukuna could cook. “Should I get you an apron, chef?” you asked, meaning to taunt him, but then he took out a rolled-out piece of black cloth from a black case he brought along with the groceries and said, “I brought my own.”

Knowing that you can’t say anything else to annoy him about cooking, you started sorting out the things he brought, taking them out of the bags and fixing them in an organized way on the counter while he proceeded to take the foodstuff to the sink. All the while, you were watching him as he cleaned everything, his dexterous hands moving with precision and unmistakable expertise.

After fixing everything and putting away the bags, you stood beside him on the sink. “You do this a lot?”

“Pretty much.”

It was fascinating to watch him work so you didn’t say anything else until he took the case again and produced a professional-looking set of knives with customized handles. “Okay, now I’m scared.” You arched a brow at him. “Why the hell do you have a knife set?”

“I love to cook,” he answered, laughing slightly without taking his eyes from what he was doing.

“I figured, but I thought, you know just cooking at home, following online recipes and stuff like that.”

At that, he laughed. “Those recipes don’t work half the time.”

“Oh, okay,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his sentiment but then you saw how he was cutting the ingredients on the chopping board like a pro. “I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“Now I mind assisting you. I refuse.” You felt a bit miffed about his mad skills in the kitchen, and you knew it would be foolish to even question how his dish, or dishes rather, was going to turn out. It got you thinking about every other thing he can possibly do, and you found yourself falling deeper. “I’m shit in the kitchen. You can have Suguru to help you.”

“But I already asked him for help yesterday to plan all this.”

“Did you now?” Your eyes flicked over to the counter that divided the kitchen and the living room and glared at your friend, remembering your conversation with him. He threw you a rueful smile.

Sukuna pouted. “You can’t take it back. Surely, you can chop onions.”

“I guess.” You took out a knife from the rack and grabbed an onion. “How do you like it?”

“Minced.”

“Okay.” You started chopping the thing rather slowly, trying to be precise, but since you were taking too long, your eyes started watering before you could even get it halfway done. “Ah, shit!” you grumbled, putting the knife down rather harshly.

Sukuna laughed, turning you around so you were facing him. “Are you okay?” he asked in between laughter, wiping your tears away with some paper towels. “You were too slow.”

You screwed your eyes shut, still feeling the sting behind your eyelids. “Well, I don’t cook.” When you opened your eyes, you almost stopped breathing when you saw those dark orbs of his directly in front of you.

“Oh no, sweetheart, you’re crying,” he cooed.

“Onion…” You took the paper towel from him and started wiping your eyes yourself, turning away from him when you saw the teasing beam on his face. “Shut up.”

“You’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m cooking for you, and I’m annoying? Let’s see how that opinion changes once you taste this masterpiece.”

You did not say anything about the matter anymore and instead watched him work, handing him this and that and doing as he tells you. Sukuna was kinda scary to work with since he obviously had a fixed process about how things should be done, but at the same time, you found yourself mesmerized by his fluidity as he moved around as if he had been in the kitchen his whole life.

“What are you making anyway?” you asked as you were putting away the things he didn’t need anymore.

He looked over his shoulder as he stirred whatever he was making. “That’s a secret.”

You shrugged, looking into the pot. “Just tell me already.”

He placed his free arm around your waist, pulling you to his side, seemingly oblivious to the three pairs of eyes which looked towards the direction of the kitchen every so often, spying on the two of you. “Patience, sweetheart. You’re gonna spoil the surprise.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you whined.

He planted a quick kiss on your forehead. “You’ll see.”

By the time Sukuna was done, your dining room looked more like a five-star restaurant than that of one owned by four university students. Well, the table did. You weren’t really familiar with the dishes he prepared since he won’t tell you what they were. You only recognized the lobster thermidor, but all the others were a mystery.

Your friends were thrilled when they saw the table and you were just stunned. You pretty much just watched Sukuna, but he didn’t let you see what he was doing in the dining room, making you promise to sit down in the pantry while he prepared. He went overboard, but you loved it, too.

“I feel like I’m going to pay with all the contents of my bank account after this meal,” Suguru said as he sat down at the edge of the table, making Sukuna laugh.

You sat to his left while the chef sat beside you, explaining the dishes to you and the three other people with you with such technical terms, half of which you didn’t really understand. Suguru did though. Sukuna plated the first dish and offered it to them.

“I hope you would find them to your liking,” he said.

“Y/N’s grandpa would be super impressed if he was here to see this,” Ieiri asked.

You snorted. “Oh my god, Ieri, what are you being such a pain for?” You turned to Sukuna then who looked at you questioningly, but you pretended not to notice. “And you, chill and eat. They can get their own food.” He grinned at you but instead of serving food for himself, he started putting food on your plate. You watched him pointedly. “I can do that myself. Eat!”

“In a bit.” He finished by placing sauce on the lobster then smiled your way before getting food for himself.

“This is phenomenal cooking, man,” Satoru commented delightedly at the first bite, seemingly forgetting about his headache, and Suguru made a sound of approval, eating with gusto. “Will you cook for us every day?”

“Suguru!” you protested.

Sukuna laughed at that. “Maybe not every day.”

You shot him an annoyed look but ate as well. They were right. His cooking was beyond good. “On second thoughts, I don’t mind you cooking for us every day, too. This is totally great!”

“Told you.”

The meal was rather pleasant with your pals engaging Sukuna, obviously taken by him. The deal was sealed where he was concerned. You knew it had nothing to do with the food. They just liked him. He mostly conversed with them while you just pitched in once in a while, too busy eating. Besides, you wanted them to get to know him, too, and you were more than glad that Sukuna was making the effort to be acquainted to them.

After lunch, Suguru and Satoru volunteered to do the dishes, in a very good mood after the magical meal while Ieiri tidied up, leaving you and Sukuna alone. You decided to tour him around the house although there was nothing much to see, leading him into the upstairs hallways. Your house was quite big for only the four of you, but not stately or anything. It was just a normal house with too few inhabitants and too many rooms.

You walked towards the west hall. “Those are all guest rooms and those at the end of the hallway are Satoru and Suguru’s rooms.”

“Where’s yours?” he asked.

You cocked your head towards the east hallway, beckoning him to follow you as you led the way to said room, pointing out the other rooms you passed by, just three of them until you reached the last door. You pushed the door open and gestured for him to enter.

“Huge space,” he commented as he looked appraisingly around, his feet leading him to the large, framed posters of your favorite book-based films and games. “You are a nerd.”

You just watched him, leaning against one of your bookshelves as he ran a finger over your "Harry Potter" movie poster. “Guilty.”

Sukuna then went look at your book collection. “It’s not bad.”

“I’m a literature major. I think it makes sense.”

“Books and more books. How many of these have you actually read?” he asked, taking your volume of "Twelfth Night."

“All of them.”

He eyed you, evidently impressed. “Shakespeare?”

“Yeah. That’s basic in my field.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N.” He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Beautiful, cultured and smart. I like it.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

“It’s true.” He returned the book on its place. “So, apart from literature, what else are you interested in?” He glanced at the glass case at the opposite end of the room where your scale-model figures and rows upon rows of console games were. “Well, apart from action figures and video games.”

“Hmm.” You pretended to be brooding over it. “Well, recently, I’ve just been interested in one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“You.”

He chuckled, pulling you towards him, the warmth of his hands burning through the fabric of your shirt, making you all giddy. “Alright, sweetheart. Your brutal frankness is really scaring me.”

“Door’s wide open. You can run.”

“You won’t chase after me?” he asked.

“You’re gonna wanna see me after anyway, so no.”

“Hey, that’s mean!” But then, he seemed to have thought of something. “Why does Ieiri call me ‘Howard’?”

You retreated from him and slumped down one of the beanbags while he sat on your swivel chair, turning it a hundred and eighty degrees repeatedly. “You caught that, huh?” You couldn’t suppress the laughter that bubbled from your throat at his question. “I didn’t know your name the night we met but Satoru told them about you and I kinda just used the name to refer to you. You know, from the book I was reading at Maki’s.”

“The architect.”

“That one.”

“I see. I don’t mind then since you told me you’re in love with the character.” He winked at you. “But yeah, I was wondering if you enjoyed the meal at all. You haven’t said anything.”

“That speaks volumes of how much I enjoyed it.”

“I’m not really good at this whole impressing anybody thing, but I wanted to make the effort for you and your friends.” Sukuna sighed in relief. “I’ve only ever had one girlfriend after all, and I didn’t really do much in the relationship. And I never really went out with other women after that either save for some casual dates.” He smiled sheepishly at you, but he was confused at your reaction.

You just stared at him quizzically and in disbelief. There was no way you will ever believe that he only dated steadily once and didn’t go out that much to paint the town red. It was inconceivable for the obvious fact that he was so beautiful it was inhuman along with that great personality he has. Women will be lining up for him for sure.

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true.”

You shook your head, looking dubiously at him. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Nope.” He shook his head as if to punctuate his statement.

“Everywhere we go, girls look at you and you expect me to believe that crap?” Hell, you wanted to pounce on him more often than not.

His expressions turned smug. “You care enough to notice, I see.”

It was unbelievable but you had to take his word for it. “You don’t sleep around either?”

“No. It just isn’t my thing.”

You just stared at him, your lower lip jutting out, not in disbelief anymore but in wonder. He’s a sensitive soul, you’ve figured that out, but you didn’t know it ran deeper than what you’ve seen so far.

“Don’t look so sad there.”

“I’m not. I really just don’t see it happening.”

“Should I be flattered?” he asked, but before you could answer, he said, “How about you?”

You swallowed hard, suddenly thinking hard about what you’re going to say to him. You didn’t really have a good track record where dating seriously was concerned. It was just not your cup of tea. “I’ve never had an exclusive relationship...” you began, eyeing him cautiously, “…ever.”

“Never?” He seemed to be having difficulty processing that.

You shook your head, your gaze guarded as you tried to gauge his reaction to your revelation. Somehow, you did not expect him to ask about the matter, and when he did, you didn’t really have a clue as to how you would address it. You realized just how different you were from him on that department. He seemed to value the emotions that come with engaging in physical intimacy while you just didn’t care enough for anyone to notice it.

“Now you’re shitting me.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” You frowned. “I think I mentioned this to you in passing the second time we met. I don’t date, at least not steadily.”

Sukuna obviously couldn’t wrap his head around the thought. “So you haven’t had a steady commitment with anyone?”

Again with the negative response. “Uh-uh.”

“Is it a matter of choice or is it a matter incapability, this I-don’t-date thing?”

“Both?” You shrugged, trying to think of a way to explain it to him. “I don’t for the reason that I don’t want to make a steady commitment. I just don’t see myself being invested with such intensity in anyone in a romantic way.”

“And why can’t you?”

“I get sick of people I’m involved with. In that manner, at least.” You chuckled humorlessly. “So…yeah.”

“But you’ve dated, right?”

You nodded. “Openly, yes, but I don’t stay long enough to really get into the whole relationship thing.” Talking about it was excruciating. It wasn’t something you discussed even with your friends. Suguru thought of it as you playing the field, but really, you had issues with the prospect of staying in an established bond with one person for a long period of time. You didn’t really know what to do with the information although you understood the mechanics.

He frowned then, looking deeply troubled. “So, you don’t date?”

“I did not date.” You made sure to emphasize on the past tense, knowing well what he would be assuming. “'Did not' being the operative term.”

“And now?” he asked, standing up when you did, too.

You stepped towards him. “What do you want it to be? It doesn’t just depend on me.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” he said patiently, coming to meet you halfway and cupping your face as he tilted his head down to look at you squarely in the eyes. “But I do want you for the long run.”

“For now, it’s just that you’re slowly changing my views about it,” you returned. “But I like you, Sukuna. And I care about you. A hell lot. Does that answer your question?”

He nodded.

You reached up, touching his face, running your finger over his jawline. “Can we work with that?”

He pressed his lips onto your forehead, wrapping his arms around you. “Count on it.”

***

"How do I look?" you asked as you walked into the living room in the black, long-sleeved, backless, lace mini cocktail dress that Ieiri chose for you, your pencil heels of the same color clacking on the tiled flooring. You found your three friends lined up on the couch like expectant parents who were sending off their daughter to her first dance, making you laugh.

"Stunning!" Satoru complimented without hesitation, jumping up the couch to make his way to you. "Our daughter's grown up, Suguru."

"Last time I checked, I'm the only one who was raising her," the other male replied.

"You did a good job."

"I did a good job," Ieiri chimed in.

You shook your head, checking the contents of your clutch. It was hopeless trying to get a proper answer from them, but you needed their output since you were new to the whole dressing-up for dinner thing because you never really allowed anyone to wine-and-dine you; never wasted time and resources on anybody you knew you weren’t exactly interested in for the long run. Still, you were more than happy to say yes to Sukuna when he said he'll be taking you to dinner after your exams.

He's been hanging around you almost every day since he cooked lunch at your place, making good on his words to you where the status of your relationship was involved. He would either come see you in the morning before he went to work or meet you at night for a quick drink at Maki's pub. At times, he'd be dropping by at your school during his breaks. And on the previous weekend, he came over, satisfying himself by sitting quietly on the couch with you leaning against his chest while you studied, even going through lengths of helping you out. At some point, you gave up cause he was distracting you, telling you about his plans while playing with your hair.

"You're gonna cook for me," you assumed.

"No. I'm taking you to that fancy restaurant in town."

You agreed without protests even when he refused after you suggested to split the bill knowing how expensive the place could be. You didn’t want him to think you were mooching off him just because he was older and you’re a broke university student. He seemed excited about the whole thing, so you didn't argue further.

Just then, you heard the sound of a car stopping in front of the house, and you made your way to the door despite Ieiri's tirade about you supposedly making the man walk to your door and ringing the bell, probably make him wait, too. Knowing Sukuna, he'll do just that but you didn't want them to pull their antics while that cliché scene by the doorstep unfolded. But she beat you to it, running a lot faster than you to open the door when you were halfway through the short hallway. Just as you were afraid of, Satoru and Suguru were also standing at the other end of the hallway.

"Guys!" you growled.

"We just wanna see you off," Suguru whined just as Ieiri said, "Hi, Howard."

"Hi," Sukuna returned the greeting, even waving at the boys behind you, looking debonair in a smart-casual charcoal grey ensemble over black, collarless button-downs.

Your annoyance died down at the sight of him and you felt yourself melting when your eyes finally met and he beamed brightly as he took in your appearance, looking like he was seeing color for the first time.

"Ready?" he asked and you nodded, stepping around Ieiri. "We're going" you told your friends, shooting them all warning looks before breaking into a nervous smile anyway as Sukuna led you away.

He opened the door to the passenger side of his... "Where's your Jeep?" you asked him, noticing the matte black sports car for the first time.

"At home," he told you. "I thought I'd switch it up for the occasion."

You shook your head as you climbed in, not really expecting him to go to that extent. You appreciated it but you weren't really high maintenance nor did you want the finer things. "So you just happened to have a Porsche 911 lying around?" you asked him when he finally made it to the driver's seat.

He nodded innocently. "I got it on a whim last year, but I decided it's too flashy so I had it stored at an exclusive garage and only took it out whenever I felt like it. I think this is a good time to take it for a spin."

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He reached out to caress your cheek. "You're a vision, by the way."

You felt heat suffuse your cheeks at his gentle touch, but you held his hand in place as you faced him. "I could say the same for you."

"I always wear suits though," he said.

"Well, you're much too impatient with your blazers and you get rid of them when we meet," you began, "And you don't wear those for me."

He flashed you a cheeky grin. "Oh, so you want your men to dress for you?"

"Man, Sukuna. Singular."

It was his turn to blush. "I'm the only one, huh?"

You tilted your head to the side, smirking. "You wanna add someone else into the mix? I didn’t know you were into that."

He was flustered. "No?"

"If you have an exact replica, I wouldn't mind."

Sukuna burst out laughing. "You're crazy."

"It's your fault for hijacking my brain all the time."

Dinner had been great with the both of you pretty much making fun of the numerous silverware before you and making up stories of the haughty guests who came into the same fancy restaurant, some of whom were looking towards your direction.

"That one's a trophy wife," you told him, furtively glancing at the couple that entered. "She's all iced up but look at how her husband is interacting with the waitress."

"You can tell just by that?" he asked.

"I'm guessing they're regulars here and the waitress is one of those he is having an extramarital affair with just judging by the way she looked at him and how she's being all cozy with him." You chuckled. "Ah, now Mrs. X is unhappy. Pretty and bejeweled but very unhappy."

"What about that man there?" He mimicked the way you looked at the couple earlier, this time referring to that one by the glass walls at the corner.

"Oh that one? He's that demanding type who only wants to sit on his usual spot. He's hypochondriac. He's been wiping all the silverware."

Sukuna was obviously amused. "You observe people like this all the time?"

"I aspire to be a novelist if not a literature professor. I watch people to come up with stories, so it doesn't always mean what I'm saying about them is true. I just make it up as I go." You laughed. "But Suguru is a better writer than I am."

"Is he now?"

You nodded, eyes scanning the area. "That old lady is a rich widow who is keeping tradition alive."

He followed your line of vision. "Because she's wearing traditional garb?"

You shook your head. "Because she is alone with that sorrowful look on her face, and she has an extra serving of a meal across her which had been untouched since she ordered in. She's on a date with her dead husband. The empty seat is for him. It's their anniversary." You cocked your head towards the empty chair. "She placed that blazer on the backrest which is obviously not hers, and she just opened a wrapped-up present and made a show of presenting it to whoever should be seated there. Looked like men’s watch to me."

That same old woman stood by your table later in the evening to say, "You are a lovely couple. Cherish each other." And she also paid for a bottle of expensive wine which Sukuna asked to be wrapped for the two of you to take home.

"Looks like you're right about that one," he said as he drove you back to his place.

You nodded, smiling to yourself. "She was right, too," you murmured.

He blinked then looked at you. "Did you say something?"

"Nope."

If you were impressed with the Porsche, his place was even more amazing. The whole place was in scales of black, white and gray but nothing was monotonous about the space. He toured you around the house and it looked uninhabited if it weren't for the signs of life around. But what caught your eye was the shelf full of music, all in vinyl with his gramophone plugged in to a modern sound system. He liked old stuff, his collection ranging from 1903s music to more modern ones here and there.

His living room was strategically placed by the glass walls, providing a view of the cityscape where you found yourself standing, in awe of the sights before you. Just then, the familiar bars of Ben E. King's "Stand by Me" started playing in the background.

You were about to whirl around, but you felt him behind you, wrapping his arm around you as he made you face him. He extended a hand towards you then. You took it without hesitation although you didn't know what he was up to, surprised when he placed your arms on his shoulder while he held onto your waist.

"Dance with me," he said in a low tone as he pulled you closer.

You giggled at that, letting him slowly sway you to the beat while you just looked up at him, drowning in his eyes, his warmth and everything that was him. "I love this song."

He arched a brow at you. "You know Ben E. King?"

"I grew up listening to old music," you told him, nodding as you smiled fondly. "The perks of being a grandpa's girl. You get exposed to great music."

"The movie is my favorite, too."

Your eyes widened. "Really?"

He threw his head back in mock annoyance. "Let me guess. It's your favorite, too?"

"Yes!" you squealed excitedly.

Sukuna clucked his tongue. "You make it hard for me to resist you when you have great music and movie tastes, too."

You looked away, swearing you were beet red now. You playfully smacked him on the chest. "Don't say things like that with a straight face."

His laughter reverberated on his chest when you leaned your forehead against it, hiding your face from him. "Now, you're getting all shy around me?" he teased.

"Shut up," you mumbled, pouting at him but having a hard time as you fought the smile that played at the corners of your mouth.

"Seriously though, Y/N, you don't run out of surprises for me." He leaned his forehead against yours. "Every time, you put something new on the list of things I like about you."

"You have a list?"

He nodded. "It's getting hard to keep up with how long it has become."

"Where does it begin?" you asked out of curiosity.

He raised a hand, his finger tracing the point between your eyebrows. "Your brows furrow just around here when you're concentrating. Just like that time I met you at Maki's."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "It's impressive how you're caught in a world of your own even in such a busy, crowded place."

"I’m just good at ignoring people. But stopped reading the moment you sat beside me." You snickered. "You make it hard to focus, it's an insult to the author when her characters are all beyond just interesting."

"How was I even distracting you? You weren’t even looking at me."

"That's what you thought." You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "It's your hair at first, but then you also smelled too good to be true. That did it for me. And before I knew it, every word on the page I was reading became Cyrillic or something."

You didn't even realize that you've both come to a standstill, chuckling as you met his gaze again, only to feel his hand sliding behind your head, his fingers tangling with your hair as he dipped down and seized your lips, tilting his head slightly. It was a gentle kiss, his skilled lips light on yours, introducing his rhythm and flavor of mint mixed with the faint flavor of the wine you've both been drinking as you moved in sync with him.

It drove you crazy how his scent and taste filled every crevice of your being, desensitizing you while also pushing your senses on overdrive at the same time. The feel of his large hands as they secured you to him while his mouth did all the magic made your blood grow hot, the rush you felt inside consuming you. You visibly wobbled when he let go of you, making him look at you in amusement.

"Stay the night?" he asked, breaking into a grin. "I have a copy of our favorite movie. We can finish the wine that kind old lady gave us, and I'll make you pizza."

"You had me at our favorite movie," you said, still a bit dazed and drunk from the taste of him. "I'll stay."

Sukuna stood at the foot of his bed as he neatly placed everything you might need on it, running out of his unit to get stuff for you at the nearby convenience store. He glanced over at the door of the adjoining shower, smiling when he heard you humming. Well, he couldn't stop smiling all night seeing how beautiful you were in that black dress. He marveled at how you managed to be even more gorgeous when you were already driving him insane even when you wore sweats to school.

He found beauty in every little thing you did, feeling himself being overwhelmed with amazement even when you were just sitting there reading to how you spoke eloquently about things you were passionate about, the way you told the stories you made up despite how they leaned towards sad things. He found it attractive how you lacked complications and always gave him your honest opinions, how you tell him what was going on inside your mind without bars held.

He loved how kind and loving you are to your friends. It wasn't outward affection but he did notice the small things you did. How one word – "breathe" – would calm Satoru down, how one reassuring squeeze of the hand would pacify Ieiri and how a single look would convey your thoughts to Suguru. He would be jealous of it given any other circumstances, but you did so much more for him by just smiling and cheering him up when you sensed how tired he was from work which was often.

You were sensitive like that, appeared stronger and more resilient than you looked, but he and your friends couldn't help it but dote on you. It was kinda funny how they all referred to you as their daughter at first but when he found out they were doing that because they're the only family you had, he understood why. He understood why you tended to look at things the way you did. It only strengthened his urge to take care of you and protect you at all costs.

“Don’t give me that look,” you’ve told him then when he found out your grandfather, your only guardian and family, passed away three years ago, and you’ve only been living on the small fortune he bequeathed to you upon his death. Your parents were long dead, too, and you were basically alone in life.

He found it amazing that you could talk about the matter without being uncomfortable when he couldn’t even imagine how his life would be if he lost his mother at his age. He understood your independent nature, how you would give him funny looks whenever he volunteered to do something for you and why you were always so insistent on splitting the bill when you went out.

Still, when you said you didn't date steadily, it got him worried. Apart from the possibility that you might not stay with him for as long as he imagined – which made him afraid to breathe at times – he thought you might have issues from being alone too much; that maybe, the reason why you didn’t want to commit was because you didn’t want to open up only to be left alone again when things don’t work out. The way you spoke about the old woman at the restaurant and the way sadness crossed your features as you told him the story you’ve just made up sort of solidified his notions.

That’s exactly the reason why he was happy you weren’t pushing him away or refusing to stay with him. When you said you’ll stay the night, although he found joy in all the times you’ve been around him, he still felt unbelievably happy. Perhaps you were giving him a chance, giving whatever it is that’s between you the opportunity to blossom and just going with wherever and whatever it brings you. He liked that thought.

You came out of his room just as he was taking out the pizza he made, dressed in that oversized, white shirt he brought out for you, the collar askew on your shoulders. You walked into the kitchen running a towel on your hair, leaning on the counter. He almost dropped the pizza when he saw that you’ve forgone the sweats he’d given you, your legs bare from halfway down your thighs.

“I gave you pants, you know.”

You laughed at his words. “They’re too big for me. I returned them in your closet.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Go wait in the living room. I’ll be finished here in a bit.”

You did as you were told, much to his relief but still went to the extent of getting you a blanket in case you wanted to cover up, not that he minded looking at your legs. Nevertheless, he preferred not to with all the thoughts running amok in his head. He wanted to take things slow with you even if you were proving to be his kryptonite. You thanked him for it, happily munching on the pizza he made as the movie started.

“I can’t believe that woman gave us this expensive wine,” you said as you took a sip from your glass.

“I can’t believe we’re having pizza with it,” he said as he sat at the other end of the couch. The two of you laughed at that, but then he stopped when you did, noticing how you were looking at him with a confused look on your face. “What is it?”

“Why are sitting so far away from me?” you demanded, but instead of him moving towards you, you crawled on the sofa closer to him.

Sukuna reveled in how naturally you took his arm and placed it on your shoulder, leaning against him before adjusting your position and covering the two of you with the blanket. He was glad your guard was down where he was concerned, the fact that you smelled like his shampoo and were wearing his clothes making him all warm and fuzzy inside. He pulled you closer to him, eyes trained on his massive flat screen.

“Sukuna…” you said a few moments later.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re too stiff.” You looked up at him, snickering. “I won’t steal your virtue if that’s what you’re scared of.”

He just laughed but it was taking everything he had in him not to do anything when you were tempting him in the most sinful ways, but he forgot all about that when your head lolled against his chest and found you sound asleep. You looked so serene that instead of taking you to bed, he sat there, cradling your form until the movie finished, his fingers playing with your hair.

Sukuna looked down at you, feeling like his chest was about to explode as he breathed in, realizing the depth of how much he felt for you, and although you couldn’t hear it, he said, “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

***

The crisp morning air blew past the open balcony doors, into the bedroom, rustling the white sheets on his bed that momentarily served as the sanctuary of a tangle of limbs and blankets, cradled by the softness of the mattress and feather-filled pillows. Even breaths rose and fell in sync, filling the wide room. Languid fingers twined with the silkiness of long locks of hair and smooth, bare skin. The bed creaks and Sukuna’s eyes open to the brightness of daylight.

He took in his surroundings, and the first thing he noticed was the pressure on his leg, his left arm just by his shoulder and his chest along with the warmth that was coming from his side. His eyes wandered down to his body to the sheets barely reaching his waist, until finally he found the source of it all.

On his left side was none other than you, pressed to his side with no quantifiable distance separating your bodies but the measly fabric of the shirt you wore. Your hair fell on the pillows and his shoulder which was cushioning your head, your leg crooked across his thighs while your hand lay on his chest in a stagnant caress that suddenly made his whole body burn from the inside. Peering down, he noticed how your brows knit together in an unconscious frown while your thick lashes cast shadows below your closed eyes. Your long, lean legs were exposed to him up to your milky thighs as his shirt which you were wearing rode up, and he could only pray that you won’t move that limb any further or else…

Cursing at himself, he diverted his gaze and realized how his left hand had been running up and down your back. The feel of your warmth against the pads of his fingers sent him to the edge while your scent intoxicated him until he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He knew he was being shallow, but he couldn’t help it either. He was still human. Still, a smile made its way across his mouth. He was only able to think of the moment and how he wished to wake up to it every single morning of his existence. He decided to stay still and hold onto it while it lasted.

“Why are you so pretty?” he whispered, then pulled you closer while he closed his eyes, meaning to go back to sleep, but it wasn’t long before he felt you stir against him, your leg moving upwards. In the process, said limb swept higher, touching that particular spot between his legs. The weight of your leg didn’t help with the carnal thoughts that were already running amok in his mind.

You suddenly moved, groaning as you shifted, the drawn-out sound doing things to him.

Sukuna’s eyes remained shut, fearing what might come next after you discover the compromising position you were in, but it didn’t come. Instead, you just very slightly distanced yourself from him, remaining within reach, but he was startled when he suddenly felt cold fingers brush across the skin just below his lower lip.

“If I were an artists, I would have painted you,” you said quietly while your fingers travelled lower. “Just look at that jaw line.”

Sukuna felt himself shiver when your other hand began working its way from his collarbones, going all the way down to where his chiseled stomach was. The titillating sensation filled his brain and before he knew it, his eyes were half open while his hand had already grabbed you by the wrist. His other arm worked to topple you over, back to the comfort of the pillows, while he rolled on top of you, staying still while completely rendering you motionless by pinning your arm down.

The reverberation of your chest against his whilst you chuckled albeit his weight sent him to the edge, almost falling off, but he held still and stopped himself from doing anything.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whispered, tapping his back slightly.

He wondered whether you liked being there with him, too, or what. “L/N Y/N…What’s with the formality?” What, indeed? The two of you were in a very intimate position and yet he addressed you that way, sounding agonized even to himself. “Don’t do that.”

You scoffed good-naturedly. “Am I giving you strange feelings?” you questioned, ridiculing him early in the morning. “I knew you were pretending to be asleep. Men just can’t say no to a woman’s touch, huh?”

He supported his weight with his arm and drew himself up, the rest of his weight pushing down lower against you. He smirked then. “So you were also awake.”

“Yeah.”

“And you let me hold you anyway?” he murmured, his face almost closing in on yours.

You ignored the tone in which he spoke and its implications. “I was just too lazy to move. Besides, I thought you were a pillow. You’re so warm.”

“That sounds fishy, Y/N.”

“And what’s fishy about that?”

He broke into that crooked grin, feeling his evil streak resurfacing. “Hmm. The fact that you’re liking this as much as I am.”

You removed your hand from his grip and lightly slid it down his inked rib, going lower as you traced the patterns of his tattoo, your eyes remaining on him, a sultry smile swathed across your lips.

A moan nearly escaped his parted mouth, but he wasn’t able to hold back the sudden closing of his eyes and slight parting of his mouth as your hand reached halfway down. “S-stop…”

Your hand stopped where his pelvis was, but your fingers continued to draw circles on his skin. “Are you sure you want me to stop?”

Sukuna panted and nodded at you feeling his hot blood rushing southward.

“Yeah?” You laughed softly, your eyes widening a bit in amusement while your leg kicked faintly underneath him, feeling something stiffen against your thigh. “Something else tells me you don’t,” you purred into his ear.

Sukuna bit his lower lip, peeking at you through half-lidded eyes. He knew you felt that and he was getting embarrassed with every second he stayed there. He knew your effect on him and you were more than just aware of it. You were even going to the extent of toying with him, making him feel like a goddamn teenager with raging hormones.

“You’re baiting me,” he played along, brushing your hair off of your neck and twirling the strands with his finger.

You smirked. “Am I?” you said slowly, hand sliding on the garter of his sweats. You withdrew your hand and rolled the two of you over despite his weight, turning tables on him. You touched the tip of his nose, taking in the disappointed look on his face all to your amusement before getting off.

“You’re funny, Sukuna.”

Your leg wasn’t even halfway off of him from where you were sitting astride his torso when Sukuna decided he was going to take his chances with making you succumb to him somehow and he finalized that by stopping you. Grabbing your waist, he rolled you over once more and without second thoughts, dipped his mouth against your, just pecking you on the mouth at first to see what you would do.

Too stunned to react, you were only able to stare at him, but Sukuna didn’t just stop there. He pressed his mouth against your sensuous lips in numerous fleeting touches until he felt you respond to it in the same gentle manner. Those small gestures, along with the closing of your eyes, ignited the fire that had been coursing through him until he thought he would explode if he didn’t comfort himself with the feel of you against him.

Unable to hold back anymore, he crashed your lips together in an urgent, scorching and passionate kiss, nibbling on your lower lip. You responded in kind, possessively holding onto his taut shoulders as he lifted you both in a sitting position so you were kneeling astride his lap. Sukuna pushed his fingers into your hair, holding you against him while his mouth moved downwards to your neck, seductively biting on your collarbone, marking his trail of fire up the columns of your throat before returning to your mouth.

Opposite to his aim to escalate the heat and passion, you placed both of your hands on either side of his head, cupping his cheeks with gentle hands and pulled away slightly, still with your foreheads against each other, hands intact on his shoulders and your waist, both panting for air.

You flashed him an apologetic smile, swallowing hard as you pulled back and sat down on the bed, looking down at your hands which you were wringing. Silence fell over the room and when you came to your senses again, you met his gaze.

His eyes rounded at the realization of what he just did. “I’m sorry, I don’t what came over me.”

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize.” You shook your head. “Sukuna, I…I shouldn’t have…”

He smiled at you then and pulled you close, giving you a soft peck on the forehead, eventually taking you into his arms, soothing your back as he embraced you. “That’s not it, sweetheart. I can’t keep my hands to myself even when you’re not doing anything.”

“I’m sorry…”

He looked at you at arm’s length. “Don’t be.” You diverted your gaze, but Sukuna lifted your head with a finger, making you look at him, holding you in his gaze “I’m willing to take it slow if that’s what makes you comfortable.”

“Look, I just want to be sure about how I feel. I don’t want to be doing this half-baked because I don’t want to hurt you –”

He placed a finger against your lips, still raw from his kisses. He didn’t want to hear what you had to say just yet but he smiled slowly at you. “I’m willing to give you time, and for now, I just want us to stay like this. Is that okay?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

You found yourselves lying in bed until the sun was high in the sky and it was just too warm to stay there. Endless talks led to teasing which eventually led to laughter. He was glad that you were back to your carefree self again, even happier that you were considering his feelings.

“Should we get something to eat?” you suggested to him.

“Are you hungry?” Sukuna asked.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

Sukuna chuckled. “Starving.” He stood up first and pulled you with him, leading you out of the room with a happy grin on his face. “Let’s make breakfast together?”

“Sure…” You beamed at him. “I’d like that.”

-end of part 2-

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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engagemachine · 2 years

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Okay but can Taylor please be absolutely determined to make a good little Thanksgiving dinner, so while J's at 'work' she wakes up, tidies the house. Gets all pretty, violet lacy dress and her hair done up as fancy as she can manage, cooks all day using recipes on Google and when J gets home he's thrilled. Makes sure to butter her up real good about how great it all looks, tells her she's the best little chef, and they both have a sudden moment of remembering when she was little and she 'cooked' for him? Her still trying to be a good little wife and serve him dinner, and it makes him fondly nostalgic. They eat and Taylor tells him all the things shes thankful for, starting with him, of course. Followed by sweet little things like her colored pencils and her stuffed otter and pretty weather and animals and he just keeps getting reminded of baby Taylor and how precious she was and still is. Then maybe after dinner he holds her on the couch, movie on in the background. They take a nap on the couch, sleepy from the turkey. Idk im sorry if it seems out of character I just loved that moment between them

Are you this same anon? If you are, I swear, it's like you have access to my computer or are reading my mind. I've written a scene so similar to what you've just described (minus the cute Thanksgiving stuff... even though I adore all of that). But, specifically him reminiscing about when she had played "house" with him when she was little and cooked for him... just last week I wrote that scene into our upcoming chapter eleven. I can't wait to share that bit. This chapter has a lot of Clockwork flashbacks -- particularly the Joker reminiscing on things that Taylor used to say or things she did as a little baby. Those scenes always melt my heart, aaaah. :')

But I ADORE your headcanon! I especially love the idea of them snuggled up on the couch in a post-Thanksgiving dinner haze, some Christmas movie playing in the background, maybe It's A Wonderful Life (remember that from Clockwork, too?!)

There's a candle burning on the coffee table next to the homemade apple pie that Taylor made -- they were eating it right out of the glass pan, and now only two crisscrossed forks and the half-eaten pie remain. She's snuggled up between his legs -- her preferred position -- laying on her side, her cheek on his chest, close to his heart.

Her eyes keep fluttering shut during the movie -- and Mr. J absently stroking her hair certainly isn't helping -- but she keeps jerking herself awake because she doesn't want to miss the movie. Plus, she's just so happy and content, and she doesn't want to miss a second of it by falling asleep.

She thinks she hears him chuckle the fourth time it happens, the way she jolts awake with a small gasp. All that food made her so sleepy -- but they still have to play the board games she found in the attics, and eat more pie and drink hot cocoa and then there's all the food to put away.

She startles a little when Mr. J shifts. Afraid he's going to get up, she suddenly clings to him with all her strength, wrapping all her limbs around him. She slides a little farther down as he shifts up, so her head rests on his abdomen, her arms wound around his lower back.

"Don't go," she murmurs.

He chuckles again. "Not going. Just getting comfortable, baby." He ruffles her hair -- and she makes a face, pretending not to like it -- as he settles back down again.

He goes back to stroking her hair, his nails scraping over the back of her scalp this time, and it feels so nice; she's not really paying attention to the movie anymore.

"You know what I'm most thankful for, Mr. J?" She says it so quietly, her words tethered to the back of a drowsy-kitten yawn.

"It wouldn't be my impeccable ability to make you fall asleep in seconds flat, would it?"

Taylor nuzzles her face into his belly, smiling.

"Not that," she mumbles. "I was gonna say you."

"Thankful for me?" he asks, in faux surprise. "Whatever for?"

"Because... because you take care of me. And because I love you." He doesn't say anything in response, just keeps stroking her hair, and Taylor yawns again. "Are you... are you thankful for me, too?"

He doesn't answer right away -- but he doesn't really have to.

He can feel it the moment she drifts off to sleep, her fingers loosening from where she had been clinging to his shirt. Her body going lax. Breath evening out.

He looks down at her, brushes her hair off to the side so he can see her face. The bed of her dark lashes and her parted mouth.

"Something like that," he says.

#anonymous #asks #Burn #Taylor #Mr. J #nobody: ...#me: TIME FOR SOME FLUFF #ajdakl #I hope this was okay anon I wrote this in one sitting #in a soft sleepy mood today can u tell

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snowflake-of-destruction · 3 years

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Oh, you’re boyfriends? So which one of you is the anxious introvert who relies on an AI and your childhood soulmate for emotional and mental stability and which one is the soft extrovert who cooks for the introvert almost every day and would sell his soul for the other?

You expect me to zig and I zag.

This wasn’t the reaction Sora had expected from Kairi. He had expected some excited girlish shrieks and too tight hugs, then a demand for details. He and Riku had a bet about whose arms she’d jump into first that Riku had only been a bit reluctant to jump into. Riku had worried at first that Kairi might be upset,left out or jealous or something. Sora couldn’t picture her as anything but happy for them.

Sora had been right, as he generally was, but Kairi still managed to surprise him. It wasn’t so much that her response was understated that threw him off. He was disappointed for maybe a fraction of a second before it sank in and made sense that Kairi had probably known this was coming longer than he or Riku had. The sparkle in Kairi’s eyes and her smile was genuine, even if already taking on the familiar tilt of preparing to release some teasing Kairi had just thought up. It was the nature of her commentary though that had Sora scratching his head.

“Oh, you’re boyfriends?” She took a sizable pause to look them both up and down, and if it weren’t for the fact that the poorly repressed smirk stayed in place Sora might have begun to doubt whether Riku may have been a bit right too after all. “So which one of you is the anxious introvert who relies on an AI and your childhood soulmate for emotional and mental stability and which one is the soft extrovert who cooks for the introvert almost every day and would sell his soul for the other?”

“Um…” Sora looked up at Riku to see if his boyfriend caught whatever Kairi was referencing, but Riku looked almost as confused as he felt. “I do like to cook, and I would cook for Riku every day. We haven’t really talked about it.”

“You don’t need to cook for me,”Riku interjected with the tight lipped caution of someone who remembered Sora’s childhood dabbling in sand soup.

“No, I want to. I need you to taste some of the fancy recipes Little Chef taught me.” Sora beamed, soft eyed and already trying to plan how he could arrange a meteor shower so he didn’t have to rely on candlelight to set a mood. The one piece of serious advice Roxas had given him was not to have fire around on dates because it could end up backfiring and killing the mood. Sora didn’t quite understand, but Roxas had been pretty insistent, so he’d promised to keep it in mind.

“You should cook him carbonara,” Kairi nodded sagely, amusement at her own private joke renewed.

“I’m the extrovert,” Sora renewed his efforts to solve the riddle.

For a moment, Riku looked like he wanted to argue. He’d once been an extrovert. He couldn’t deny that Sora had always been a bit more social though, and the balance had tipped much further out of sync the past few years.

“We’d both sacrifice anything for each other,” Sora continued, and Riku echoed him with his own agreement of “Anything.”

“I don’t know what Data Sora told you, but we all had a rough time when Sora was in Quadratum,” Riku addressed Kairi directly.

“It was a joke, guys. Never mind.” Kairi shook her head. “I am thrilled for you both. Axel owes me sixty munny though. He was sure it would take you two until Christmas.” The hugs came then, though Sora was still a bit let down on the lack of girlish shrieking...from Kairi. He added his own to the conversation when Kairi casually mentioned them double dating with her and Aqua.

“But before that,” Kairi declared with dramatic import. “I need to show you this TV show Olette and Pence got me hooked on. Then you’ll understand everything.”

#soriku #destiny trio

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poodlejoonas · 3 years

Text

Dad!BC AU - the moms

So wow-ihateithere and I (because for some reason Tumblr won’t let me directly @ you) have been tossing out so many amazing ideas for the BC dad AU lately that we’ve thought of pretty much every scenario under the sun. One idea I’d like to throw in here is the group that is the moms who make up their own personal wolfpack. Since they’ll be brought in as stand-alone characters soon, it would be better to have a basic introduction for each and how they know/interact with each other.

(Under the read-more for length)

Joel - Emilia (”Millie”) Hokka - The absolute baddest bitch you will meet on this planet. She's a 5′1″ sweetheart, but if you lay a single finger on her kid, her husband, her BC brothers and sisters, or any of her nieces and nephews, she will become the human embodiment of that one line from “Wolfpack.” You know the one. She’s gone viral before for Joel needing to hold her back from fighting the mom of a kid who’s bullying Enkka at school, and literally watching this tiny woman become a human hurricane at the drop of a hat was enough for this kid to immediately leave him alone. From then on, kids at school know not to come after Viktor Hokka because his mom doesn’t play around. Why would she? After all, she dedicated 18 months of her life to trying to become a mom, and anyone who dares to come after her baby needs a running start to get away from her.

Sometimes even Joel has to hold her back from doing something she probably should regret but wouldn’t if it involved her family. He knows better than to cross a line with her. Then there are other times when they work together to be the shadiest power couple on earth, like when Aleksi’s ex-girlfriend Laila slanders him in the media for talking about taking custody of their son from her. If Joel comes home pissed about something, she’s the first one to jump on board with whatever plan he has to get his point across. She would totally have a stan account on Instagram dedicated to her called “milliehokkasupremacy”. And Joel loves his wife so much that he would eat every bit of this shit up. When she tells someone off, he writes down what she says and turns it into the lyrics of Blind Channel’s next single.

In short, Millie Hokka is 100 percent That Bitch™.

Bonus bit because this idea made me laugh: (in the comments section of a post slandering BC) @milliehokka: Bitch you better take this shit down before I puncture your fucking tires @joelhokka: She's my better half ❤️

Joonas - Kirsten Porko - Kirsten’s one of the quiet BC moms, and a hell of a lot more tame than Millie. But she has her shining moments every now and then, like when she was wondering why Millie took Joel with her knowing that she could’ve easily beaten that bully’s mom’s ass without him. She has the patience of a saint, being married to Joonas and raising two (soon to be three) kids with him. But she adores every minute of their chaotic little family. Since Sohvi was the first of the BC kids, the guys were quick to show up in support of her and Joonas. She was also pretty lonely until the others started dating their wives, and she was more than happy to have more friends to bond with.

She does the most to mother the rest of the kids when they need it. They love to come to their house because Kirsten will have a fresh pan of cookies ready for them. They also like hanging out with Joonas, but Kirsten is a fun aunt on her own. She’s typically the first to show up when one of the other moms tosses out a cry for help in taking care of their kids, especially when they’re newborns and the guys are away on tour. Kirsten’s total aesthetic is the absolute opposite of Joonas’s: she’s bubbly and wears nothing but pastel dresses and soft fabrics. A lot of people wonder what a “nice girl” like her is doing with a punk rocker like Joonas, until you see them interact and know that they’re crazy in love with each other and their kids. She’s the unassuming type, but she loves pranks as much as her husband and kids; she’ll play along whenever there’s a really good one and sometimes she can totally outdo them.

Niko - Jenna Moilanen - Jenna is Millie’s co-conspirator and partner-in-crime. If Millie needs someone to back her up and Joel’s trying to talk her out of whatever she’s thinking about doing, Jenna is the first to show up on the scene. She’s very much Niko’s type - she has just as many tattoos as him, several piercings, and hair that changes color depending on her mood. She’s naturally a blonde but you almost never see her as one. A lot of people tend to pass judgement on her abilities as a mom based on her appearance, but both of her and Niko’s kids adore her (especially their daughter Lahja) and they grow up happy with their loving parents. She’s a fantastic cook and works as a head chef at a five-star steakhouse, and she’s always willing to come home and cook for her family as well. She and Millie are the two shortest of the group, and it’s hilarious because they are both absolute spitfires.

Jenna has the best intuition when it comes to deciding who is trustworthy and who isn’t. There’s no “leader” in the group, but most of the others trust Jenna when someone gives her a bad feeling. She would be the one to raise the alarm on Laila years before she and Aleksi ever break up, and Laila would find the absolute worst way to end up on Jenna’s shit list. In her time with the group, Laila does nothing to help take care of the rest of the kids or try to fit in with the group. One day, when Leevi cries because he needs something, Jenna spots an annoyed expression out of the corner of her eye coming from Laila. It takes an intervention from God to stop Jenna from ripping her apart on the scene. The most important thing to note about Jenna: she calls her closest friends “bitch” affectionately. The moment it stops being affectionate, there’s no turning back.

Olli - Kaarina Matela - The quietest and calmest of the BC moms. She perfectly matches her husband’s energies, which is why they parent their daughters so well. She was definitely more calm than him on the day they learned they were having twins, and still is to this day. When he was panicking about their pregnancy scare, she was still managing to stay collected somehow (but just as relieved as he was). She’s very much like a suburban soccer mom type, but far from being a Karen because she’s aggressively kind to everyone around her, including hardworking people. And Olli just adores her so much, sometimes he doubts if he even deserves her. She’s always the first to remind him that there’s no one else she would rather be with.

Kaarina is the arts and crafts kind of aunt. During the summer, she likes to have the kids come over for day camp style hangout sessions where they mix in time outside with craft activities. She’s the reason why Olli’s stage outfits have been so cool lately, because she’s got a perfect eye for colors and is super skilled at hand-stitching patches. If the kids need anything repaired, they’ll know to go to Aunt Rina first because she’ll either make it as good as new, or turn it into some sick artwork. All the moms get along but she and Kirsten vibe together the best. They get together and plan the summer activities for the kids, which involve Rina planning the crafts and Kirsten baking for, and with, them.

Tommi - Marja Lalli - Marja is unique in her position as a BC mom because she joined the group when her son Miikka from a previous relationship was already almost 4. For a brief time, she was worried about herself and Miikka feeling left out of the group dynamic that was already there, but they were so quick to invite her in as one of them. A lot of it had to do with her being friends with Jenna since elementary school, and Jenna knew that the sisterhood would be more than happy to accept her. She and Niko help set her up with Tommi because they both know he would love her and accept Miikka as his own. She’s chill and reserved, but she’s still a ton of fun to be around. Along with Kaarina and Kirsten, she’s one of the level-headed moms and is typically the voice of reason for a lot of things (especially when it comes to trying to contain Millie and Jenna’s tempers).

The rest of the moms were thrilled when she told them she was pregnant with Anna, but constantly concerned and fretting over her when she was on occasional bed rest. If Tommi couldn’t be with her, it was one of them coming over to help take care of her and Miikka. Marja’s health showed the caring side of the sisterhood of the BC moms, how they are willing to take care of each other in sickness as well as celebrating the good times and defending each other from drama. Even months after Anna is born, they still come over from time to time to see if there’s any way they can help.

Aleksi - Laila Pekkanen (later on, marries Hanna Kaunisvesi) - So this one is a bit complicated. For about three years, Aleksi was in a high-profile relationship with Laila Pekkanen, a producer who worked with him on a solo single before joining BC. They meet again a couple years later and begin a relationship that last for about three years. But it was far from loving, as they were just in general not good for each other. A few weeks after their break-up, Laila calls Aleksi while he’s in the studio to break the news to him that she’s pregnant, which sends Aleksi into total emotional turmoil because he thought they were being careful. Of all the guys, he’s the most careful with avoiding this kind of thing, but it was her who missed one too many days of her birth control. They’re barely on speaking terms, but they agree to try to stay cordial until Aleksi can take full custody of the child himself. She admits to having no maternal instinct and wants nothing to do with the baby.

Here’s where it gets messy. Aleksi finally decides to break his silence on the matter and announces via Instagram that he will be a father and raise his son on his own. He does his best to tell his side of the story without dragging Laila down. But she takes it personally and goes on the radio to try to attack Aleksi, feeling like she’s being treated like a villain and a bad person for giving up her child. She feels like she’s being “exposed” in thinking that Aleksi publicly acknowledging their son’s existence would ruin her career, because she’d been trying everything possible to cover it up. It becomes a major feud between her and her team, and Aleksi and the BC team, but more industry people can back him up as a stand-up guy than they can come to her defense. She nearly ends up having Noah prematurely, and yet Aleksi still shows up in support, more so for their son than for her. When Noah is born months later, she refuses to hold him and immediately cuts off all contact with Aleksi.

Aleksi raises Noah alone and learns to support his son when he’s later diagnosed on the autism spectrum. Noah is semi-verbal and partially communicates with sign language. He uses sign in situations when he meets a stranger, and Aleksi respects his intuition when someone makes him uncomfortable. Noah has separation anxiety from losing his mom at a young age, so Aleksi refuses to date for years because he doesn’t want to bring a revolving door of strangers around him. But then he meets Hanna, who makes an almost instant connection with him. He’s hesitant to make a decision about a long-term relationship with her until he sees how well she works with Noah. She’s one of the first people he opens up to - mostly because of her experience as a child psychologist - but the moment that seals the deal is when Noah calls her “mom” for the first time (in sign to his cousins). Fans and people he works with can’t help but notice that Aleksi is so much happier with Hanna than Laila. And as much as he would like to have a baby with her, he’s happy having Noah and wants to invest his energy into ensuring his happiness. But Hanna understands, because she’s an angel and only wants the best for her family.

#blind channel #dad!blind channel #no idea what else to tag this as lol #this is a lot more fun than making them all reader inserts #i love writing reader inserts but it'll be nice to see them interacting with each other

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shhhhyoursister · 3 years

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childhood friends to lovers!au

yes i am uploading these all at the same time what about it???? yeah so this the one where david is a rich kid who is “forced” to play with matteo (who is autistic in this au) but of course they become best friends because theyre soulmates so ahh i hope you like it!!!

He knows that he shouldn’t be climbing the tree.

His mom has told him at least a hundred times that he shouldn’t. She always tells him that he’s going to fall, bump his head or break his arm, and he needs to come down right this second or he’s going to bed without any dessert which is almost always enough to convince him.

He wraps his legs tight around the branch he’s on and let’s himself fall backwards, hanging with his head poking out just enough under the lowest leaves so he can see if anyone is there. He knows that Laura is doing schoolwork and his mom had been cooking something last he saw her, and he thinks it’s still too early for his dad to be home from work. His eyes scan the huge backyard, and, seeing nobody, he grins and grabs onto the branch to swing himself back up.

He stands, looking down at the dark blue velcro sneakers that he had begged for last time his mom had taken him shoe shopping, and starts walking across the branch like a tightrope. He holds his arms out, careful not to knock into any leaves or twigs jutting out at him. He gets to an upward curve in the branch and puts a foot on it.

It’s higher than he’s climbed before. Usually by this point someone has noticed that he’s gone, his mom or Laura bursting through the glass double doors that led to their backyard, yelling for him. Always calling out a name that makes him glare and wrinkle his nose. He almost loses his footing thinking about it and refocuses.

He knows what his goal is, and he’s only a couple feet away from reaching it. There’s a birds nest in the tree, high high up, that he’s been watching every morning with the binoculars his dad bought him. His mom would watch him pointing them out the window at the pretty blue bird, and one day got down on her knees next to him, pointed to it, and said, “There are going to be new baby birds in the nest soon, I saw two eggs. That mama bird is going to have two little baby birds, just like me.”

And he’s been trying to get a closer look ever since. He loves watching the birds, the whole reason his dad had bought him the binoculars in the first place, and he will spend hours just lying on his back in the grass, sunglasses (that his dad also bought him) snug over his eyes, watching the birds fly overhead.

With his mission reset in his mind, he looks up, seeing the nest close by, and only a little bit higher than he is. If he puts his foot right between those two forking branches, and shifts his weight just the right way and grabs onto that one branch at the right time, he’ll be able to look into the nest. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus. He plants his foot and shoots up next to the nest, grabs the branch, and shakes a leaf out of his face. When he opens his eyes he grins, and starts laughing.

He can see two little birds in the nest, and they’re ugly. Gray and fuzzy, pink bald heads, huge eyes barely open as wiggle around. He watches for a moment, wishing that he could reach out and pet one but listens to his mother’s warnings against doing such. He rebalances himself, shifting his weight onto a different foot, and almost stumbles. He gasps and catches himself quickly. He grins at how fast he was able to grab onto the branch but quickly realizes his mistake when he hears an angry squawk.

He had grabbed onto the branch with the nest, the branch strong enough not to move but his hand close enough to the nest to alert the mama bird, who had been somewhere close by the whole time. He gasps again, quickly letting go as the bird jumps closer to his hand, and starts yelling as he loses his balance enough with the surprise to start falling backwards. He hits the ground, hears a crack and the worst pain he’s ever felt shoot up his arm, and he screams until he hears his mom running out the back door.

***

He throws the biggest tantrum when the doctor, along with his parents, tell him that he isn’t allowed to play rough or run around or climb or do any of his favorite things for weeks. He doesn’t even know how long a week really is but it sounds like it might last forever, and he cries and kicks his legs the whole time they’re in the doctor’s office. It’s summer so all of his friends are going to be playing outside and riding their bikes and going swimming, and now he’s being told he can’t do any of that? It’s the most heartbreaking news a six year old could’ve gotten.

On the way home from the doctor, his parents drag him, still crying, and Laura, who’s just excited about all the fanfare, into an ice cream shop. They tell them to get whatever they want, and he orders at least four different flavors through his angry tears because he always orders for himself. He only stops crying when his dad sets down the huge paper cup of ice cream in front of him, a spoon shoved in it, and says, “Go crazy.”

After he eats until his stomach hurts his parents take him to the store, lead him to the video game section, and tell him to choose three new games. He picks fast, his Wii still so new that he only cares about getting games for that, and his eyes are completely dry by the time they get home that night.

It’s later that night that his parents tell him the news. They both come into his room to tuck him in for the night which is unusual, but he’s thrilled that he’s going to get double the attention, not even complaining like usual about Laura having a later bedtime than him. His dad sits in the big chair across from his bed, his mom settling down on the edge of his bed, both smiling at him.

“You did quite a number on yourself today, kid,” his dad starts, grinning while trying to maintain some kind of authority. His mom looks at his dad and smiles, holding back a laugh. He glares between the two, much less happy about their presence in his room if they’re just there to make fun of him.

“I just wanted to see the baby birds.” he mutters under his breath.

“Well, you have your binoculars for that,” his mom said quietly, placatingly, patting his leg, “and we have some news that might make you a bit more happy.”

He looks up at that, wondering what else his parents were going to give him. He’s no stranger to gifts and treats, but he thought that the new video games and the ice cream were going to be it. He smiles, excited for whatever else it is they have planned.

“Do you remember Mrs. Florenzi? From the restaurant?” his dad says, smiling at his mom again.

The restaurant. He frowns again, not wanting to get into the topic of his dad’s job. He doesn’t even understand what his dad does. All his other friends’ dads are lawyers, or doctors, or other big words that he doesn’t understand. His dad seems to just...own a lot of things. One of those things being his favorite restaurant, that he had purchased a few years earlier. His family went there a few times a month, and he could remember Mrs. Florenzi if he really focused. Long brown hair, kind eyes, always smiling when she sees him at a table. She’s a chef there but sometimes would sneak out of the kitchen to pinch his cheeks. He nods.

“Well, I don’t think we told you, but she has a son around your age, and she needs someone to look after him some days when she’s at work. Since I’m home, and already have two crazy kids running around,” his mom says, poking at him until he giggles, “why not take in a third?”

He tilts his head, thinking about that. He has friends, lots of them., but if he’s going to be stuck inside because of his arm, it might be fun to have a new kid around. Especially so he doesn’t have to go to Laura if he wants to play with someone else, because they fight as much as they get along. After a minute he smiles, says, “Okay!” and drops his head to his pillow as his parents laugh.

Having another boy around sounds like fun.

***

The next day, after breakfast when he’s wandering around his playroom trying to find something to do that was fun but wouldn’t cause his mom to tell him to settle down because of his arm, the doorbell rings. His head pops up, and he runs out of the room just in time to see his mom open the door.

Mrs. Florenzi is waiting on the other side, and he frowns, not seeing a kid with her. She’s smiling and greeting his mom, talking in that way that moms always do when they drop off or pick up their kids. He’s not shy, not in the slightest, but he hangs back a bit. He wants to know where this other boy is.

Mrs. Florenzi seems to notice him, and ducks down to wave, and he waves back, and then walks over and past his mom, and pushes his face out the door to look around. When the moms laugh he pulls back, kind of annoyed at that, and demands, “Where is he?”

The moms laugh again and he considers pulling the face that his mom always chides him for, pouting his lips out big and glaring so hard it makes his head hurt. He hates being laughed at by adults.

“Sorry honey, he’s a bit shy. Matteo, do you want to meet your new friend?”

That’s when he notices the small hand clutching desperately onto Mrs. Florenzi’s skirt. His mouth twists up a little; he doesn’t usually get along with shy kids. He finally sees a blond head poke out from around her, the face on it looking nervous but also a little excited. They stare at each other until Mrs. Florenzi shoves the kid in front of her.

He gets a good look. Matteo is small, scrawny even, and his shoulders are hunched in a bit, making him seem even smaller. His shoes are dirty which he hopes means that Matteo at least like playing outside, and the scratches on Matteo’s knees that match his own makes him even more hopeful. Matteo looks at him, tilting his head, not saying anything, and then he looks off to the side, his hand clenching in the hem of his shirt.

“Hi, Matteo,” his mom says, bending down so she can smile at Matteo, and then shoves him forward and introduces him.

She doesn’t do it right though. She never does. Nobody ever does. He scowls.

Mrs. Florenzi pushes Matteo forward again, into the house, and thanks his mom before leaving for the restaurant with a kiss to Matteo’s head, and something whispered in his ear. He watches the door after she leaves.

He hopes the kid doesn’t start crying.

His mom sends them off so she can do something in the kitchen, and he and Matteo look at each other. Matteo looks nervous almost, probably because of the fierce glare on his face, so he decides to clear that up before the other kid tries to say something.

“That’s not my name you know,” he says, and turns, making his way to the playroom because that’s always a good place to start with new friends, “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a name?” Matteo asks, his voice quiet, his face confused, “Then why did your mama call you that?”

He shrugs. Matteo looks uncomfortable with that answer.

“But- everyone has a name,” Matteo says as they reach the door of the playroom, his hand twitching at his side, looking up at the big door in front of them, “you have to. How am I gonna talk to you if you don’t have a name?”

He rolls his eyes, something his parents started scolding him for the second he learned how and when to do it, pushing into the playroom. Nobody really gets it. He shrugs again, and says, “I don’t know but if you call me that I’ll beat you up.”

Matteo’s eyes pop open and he looks nervous. He nods, pushing his arms out at his sides, twisting them in the air and then snapping them back down at his sides.

He nods back, glad that they got that conversation out of the way. He looks around the playroom when Matteo doesn’t say anything, trying to find something to do with this quiet boy who seems like the opposite kind of kid than he usually plays with.

“You have a Wii?” Matteo asks suddenly, pointing at the white console attached to the big TV in the room, his other hand twisting at his side. He’s smiling for the first time since he had come in, bouncing on his feet.

“Yeah!” he exclaims, hoping that Matteo would want to play video games with him because that’s always easy and Laura never wants to, “I got Smash Brothers when I broke my arm, do you wanna play?”

Matteo grins and nods, rocking up onto his toes and his hands flapping at his sides as the game is set up. They both settle in front of the screen in the special chairs his dad had bought for him and Laura, his a light blue (that again, he had to beg for), Laura’s a darker purple. Matteo starts rocking in the chair when he realizes that he can get the momentum to.

“I know!” Matteo calls out a little while later, after they had played enough of the game that they were joking around and laughing with each other, Matteo losing every round but having fun regardless, “We should have nicknames! I want to be Luigi!”

He snorts and asks, “Why Luigi? He’s not as cool as Mario!”

“He’s green, though, that’s my favorite color. I don’t like red.” Matteo says, shrugging and shaking his head, focused completely on the screen in front of them. He’s tapping his fingers on the controller in his hand, pressing buttons, selecting and deselecting his character.

He nods, looking at the character selection screen, thinking that if Matteo picked a Nintendo nickname, he needs to do the same. He considers a bunch of different characters before landing on one and smiling, and he turns to Matteo, proud even though Matteo doesn’t look at him.

“I’ll be Link!” he says, and Matteo turns to him, smiling just as wide.

“I like Link, he’s green too!” Matteo says, and turns back to the screen, starting the next round.

They play for hours. They switch between playing different video games and looking at Pokemon cards and playing dress up with the chest in the back corner and bothering his mom until she feeds them, and when the doorbell rings and his mom calls them both down, he thinks fast.

“Come on,” he whispers to Matteo as he grabs his arm and yanks him out of the playroom, “and don’t talk about my room.”

He opens the door and shoves Matteo in first, glancing down the stairs to see his mom standing at the door, talking to Mrs. Florenzi. Neither of them seemed to notice so he follows and closes the door quietly behind him. He tries to ignore the fact that Matteo is staring around at everything.

It’s not that his room is small, or boring, or that his bed is uncomfortable or that there are monsters hiding in his closet waiting to eat him (he’s too old to be scared of monsters). It’s just ugly. The wallpaper was put up before he was even born, when his parents first found out they were having another baby, and the pink and white flowers made his head hurt. There were lots of marks on the walls from balls he had thrown and toy rocket ships he had “launched into space”. The canopy draped over his bed was cool when he closed it, pretending that he was in a tent in the middle of a jungle, but any other time he despised it.

Matteo stands in the middle of the room, his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling above them. It’s covered in those little glow-in-the-dark stars and planets, something he had begged for after seeing it on TV once. Matteo seems to get lost in his own head, still staring up but spinning in slow circles around the floor. He turns to the door when they both hear a mom voice calling them down, and Matteo’s head whips back to him and he holds a finger over his mouth.

They hide as long as they can, quietly giggling, until his mom decides to check his room even though he almost never chooses to go in there, especially not with friends. Matteo looks like he’s going to cry when he’s escorted out with Mrs. Florenzi’s hand gently pulling his, and he waves bye as the moms reassure the two that they’ll see each other the next day. His mom closes the front door and turns to him with a smile.

“So, did you two have fun?” she asks, and instead of answering he runs into her legs and hugs them.

The next morning can’t come soon enough, and when the bell rings, he jumps up from the table to answer it, ignoring his mom yelling behind him that he needs to come pick his chair back up. He unlocks the front door (he doesn’t know if his parents know he can do that) and smiles at Mrs. Florenzi, who smiles back and pinches his cheek. She greets him and he frowns at the name.

Matteo runs past her into the house, his face bright, and they run up the stairs and into the playroom before they even say hi to each other. He can hear the moms laughing fondly behind them, and he closes the door to shut them back into the little world they had created around them the day before.

“Hi Link.” Matteo giggles, a hand over his mouth like he’s sharing in a secret, and he kind of is.

“Hi Luigi,” he says back, unable to stop his own giggles from escaping, and then points to the TV and asks, “wanna play more?”

Matteo nods enthusiastically, spinning in a circle before flopping into the same chair he had sat in the day before. He starts setting the game up like usual, but frowns when he turns the TV on and doesn’t see the usual black screen with words on it that he could read if he cared enough to.

“What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working?” Matteo asks, and he looks over, and Matteo is staring at the screen, his eyebrows drawn down. He gets up, walking closer to the screen, examining it like he could figure out how to fix it. His hands come up and start rubbing at his arms as he squints.

“My stupid sister did something and then didn’t fix it,” he muttered, and Matteo’s head whipped to him, a surprised smile on his face.

“That’s a bad word, you can’t say that!” he scolds, but he looks secretly pleased.

“I know all the bad words,” says, smirking, proud of that, “even the really bad grown-up ones.”

Matteo looks at him, awe on his face, and he starts bouncing and says, “Wow, I think you’re the coolest friend I have!”

He grins, puffs up his chest a bit. He knows he’s cool, but hasn’t ever been called the coolest before. He’s going to have to make Matteo say it again in front of Laura.

Remembering his sister, he frowns again. He thinks that Laura may have watched a DVD and then not fixed the TV after, and he doesn’t know how to make it the Wii again. He has to either go ask her to change it, or find his mom.

“I have to go get my sister,” he says to Matteo, and then points off to the cabinet containing the Pokemon cards they had looked through the day before, “you can look at those but be careful, they’re fragile.” He doesn’t really know if they are but he had heard his dad call important things that before.

Matteo nods and he walks out of the room, running down the hall to Laura’s room. He isn’t in the mood to talk to his sister when he already has a friend over, especially a friend who thinks he’s cool, but he kicks her door a couple times, bangs on it with his fist, and yells, “Laura!”

He keeps up the noise until the door is wrenched open. Laura is already glaring, her curly hair frizzed around her face making her look even angrier, and he just grins when she crosses her arms over her chest, scowling at him.

“What do you want?” She asks, sneering, and he puts a frown on his face to match hers.

“You messed up the TV, and I have my new friend over, and we can’t play video games!” he sneers, crossing his own arms over his chest, “You need to fix it!”

“Ugh, fine,” she says, and stalks out of her room, shoving past him to get to the playroom. He clenches his fists and follows after her. She closes the playroom door in his face just as he gets to it, and he smacks it with his fist before yanking it open with a growl.

He sees Matteo pressed against the wall on the other side of the room. It seems like Laura hasn’t even noticed him, as she’s focused on the TV, but Matteo’s eyes are wide. He looks towards the door and places a hand flat against the wall.

“Laura, this is my super cool new friend Matteo,” he says, pointing to the boy cowering against the wall, who only presses himself more into it, “Matteo, this is my stupid ugly sister Laura.”

He smiles when Laura shrieks and throws down the chord she was holding, and runs out of the room, yelling behind her, “I’m telling mom!”

He turns to Matteo, who’s still against the wall, but with Laura gone he looks a little less tense. He puts a finger on his lips and waves Matteo over, and once he’s close enough he grabs his hand and whispers, “Come on, we have to go hide now.”

He tugs on Matteo’s hand and quickly, quiety leads him down the stairs. He doesn’t know where his mom is but he can hear Laura stomping around upstairs so he figures they’re safe for a bit. He can see his mom washing dishes at the sink, her back to the hallway that led to the basement, and he tugs again.

They get to the door and he slowly opens it, trying to avoid the loud creak. Once he gets it open as silently as he can, he turns to Matteo and is about to tell him to follow, but as he takes a step down onto the first stair, Matteo’s hand twists out of his.

“No,” he says, stepping back, shaking his head, rubbing at his arms again, “I- I don’t like the dark. I can’t go in basements.”

He grabs for Matteo’s wrist to try and drag him down anyway, but Matteo rips his arm away and wraps it behind his back fast. He glares, and is about to complain and whine and whisper that they need to hurry up because Laura is coming down the stairs, but Matteo glares back at him. He’s wants to argue but instead he rolls his eyes and pushes Matteo back, and then walks past him to the back door.

He pulls it open and runs outside, not even waiting to see if Matteo is following, because Matteo isn’t going to get in trouble if they’re caught. He runs until he finds what he’s looking for, the large shed in their backyard that housed various tools of his father’s and larger toys and bikes and such of his and Laura’s. He puts a hand on the doorknob, and then finally turns, and sees Matteo a little ways behind him. He decides to be nice and take extra long to get the door open.

He can suddenly hear his mom calling for him. His eyes widen and he tugs Matteo inside, who doesn’t seem happy at David’s hand on him so he lets go as soon as he can close the door. He puts a finger over his lips again, and even though Matteo looks mad at him he does the same.

He leads him to the back of the shed where there’s an old playhouse that his dad had built for him and Laura. The only reason it’s in the shed is because he, not loving the colors his parents had chosen for it, decided to splash a can of old black paint he found in his basement all over the exterior walls. He had gotten in trouble for that, but a new playhouse was in it’s spot the next week, a light blue one instead of the pink and purple that the original had been. He opens the door, quickly checks around for bugs or mice, and, seeing a clean enough space, steps inside.

Matteo looks around before hesitantly walking in behind him. He isn’t used to having friends as sensitive as Matteo seems to be, and he reminds himself of the words his mom would sometimes say to him when he’s getting frustrated at someone else, when he’s being too stubborn to think about how someone else might be feeling. His own brain is still a little too interesting to himself, all the thoughts and feelings that come so quickly and leave just as fast, and he sometimes needs to be reminded that other people have their own different, interesting brains.

“We can hide here for a little bit,” he whispers, and then noticing Matteo staring down at the ground, shoulders hunched like the first time he saw him, “are you okay Luigi?”

Matteo looks up, twisting the ends of his shirtsleeves around his fingers.

*** PART TWO

David’s high school graduation present is top surgery. Nothing about it is a surprise due to all of the meetings and consultations and doctor’s visits he needs to complete before they can do the surgery, but it goes by fast enough, probably due to his father’s presence. Or more his father’s money’s presence. He knows that he’s lucky, and can barely even remember the annoying process by the time he’s out of surgery, and on his way to healing again.

They had scheduled everything so he’d be able to go back to school on time, still finishing up the last of his recovery, but healed enough to do the rest of it on his own. As someone who already had a lot of confidence, getting top surgery makes David feel like he’s on top of the world.

His parents take him on a huge shopping trip before he goes, order him everything he adds to his college wishlist on Amazon, and help him pack up his car when it’s time for him to leave. They hug him goodbye, reminding him to be safe, and smart, and to focus on his work but also to have fun, and to call them if he needs money or food or anything. He waves them on and hugs them both quick, too excited to start this next phase of his life to stay and chat long. He gets in his car, starts the engine, and laughs hysterically as he pulls out of the long driveway.

And of course, he thrives there. Being raised in the family he was, he knows how to network, how to get himself out there in the exact ways he wants. The first person he meets is his roommate Jonas, a nice guy around his height with curly brown hair. They bond quickly over the fact that they both brought tons of music posters to hang around the room, and Jonas doesn’t even blink at the trans flag he places in a cup of pens on his desk. He’s perfect.

His classes are easy for him, and more fun than he expected, even the ones not relating to his major. He speaks well, has always been a good student, and gets on all his professor’s radars within the first few weeks with how articulate and insightful he is. He jokingly thinks to himself after getting praised one class for his eloquence, thank god for private school.

He joins as many clubs as he can, too. One for photography, making a note to look for the nice camera he had gotten one Hannukah, some kind of club that he ends up dropping because all of the other guys in it are the type of film bro that David always swears to never become. He also joins LGBT clubs, one for trans people specifically and one more general, and blushes when he’s asked to join the Burlesque club, turning the invitation down with a pleased smile. He makes friends fast through all the clubs, quickly finding people in each of the little niches he was forcing himself into. He tells all of this to Amira with a proud grin that falls the second she decides to start calling him Mr. Popular.

There are other things he does well in, up at school. He’s a little put off at first, how quickly people are to come up to him with small, private smiles already on their faces, touching his shoulder and laughing even when he doesn’t say something funny. The people who would squish themselves up against him at meetings, or put a hand on his arm to ask him a question about something in class. He can’t say he minds the attention at all, feel a little bit in his own cocky way like some prince with suitors parading around his castle doors. It only goes to his head a bit.

That stops a couple months in, when he starts actually noticing the girl in one of his only non-film classes that had been making eyes at him since the first week. Their professor always has the class sit in a circle to “better facilitate discussion” or whatever, after David notices her looking at him, a small smile on her face with her eyebrows raising when she sees him noticing her,, and they spend the rest of that class, raising their eyebrows at each other and smiling, daring the other not to laugh.

David catches her on the way out of class a week later, and finds out that her name is Amelia, finds out that she has one dimple on her left cheek that gets bigger when she laughs, and finally finds out that yes, she’d love to get lunch with him. She has hair that she tells him she dyed the mixture of greens and blues one night when she was drunk off of a bottle of wine and found her roommate’s leftover dye in their bathroom. She

When David gets back after his first year is over, he feels accomplished. He had done fantastic in all his classes, had clubs and friends to return to once the next year started, and as he drives home, music blasting in his car, he realizes he’s excited to have some time off.

When he gets back both of his parents are waiting by the door to greet him, proud smiles on their faces as he tells them about finals, and how much he misses his friends and Jonas and his girlfriend, that he’s definitely going to be inviting some of them to the house over the summer, and that he needs a new pair of headphones because he lost his good ones in the chaos of moving out. He feels like he’s rambling, but he’s excited to see his parents and actually talk to them again.

They tell him that they want to take him out to dinner to celebrate him finishing his first year and doing so well, and he runs up to his room to get changed at their insistence. He would’ve been happy just staying at home, ordering something from the local Mexican place that he’s been missing, but he know if they have an idea for something more celebratory he won’t be able to stop them. That’s confirmed when his dad calls up the stairs that they have a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in his town.

He gets into the backseat of his dad’s truck, buckling himself in and quickly taking his phone out. He wants to see his friends as soon as he can, and had promised to text Amira when he got home. He opened his conversation with her and started typing.

David: Hey, sorry I didn’t text sooner, my parents wanted to take me out and they’ve barely given me time to breathe

As he waits for a response, he realizes that he should probably text his girlfriend, too. He snorts at himself for not thinking about it and opens his messages with Amelia.

David: I’m back!! You’re probably still driving so keep your eyes on the road and text me when you’re home <3

He gets a text from Amira just as it sends, and he switches back to that conversation.

Amira: Ah yes, your best friend is much less important than a fancy dinner David: 🙄

He was going to send more but before he can, his mom sighs, and he hears, “Oh look, we haven’t gone there in so long!”

He picks his head up and looks out the window in the direction she’s staring, and they’re at a red light so David has time to realize that it’s the restaurant his dad owns. He tilts his head, biting the inside of his cheek, and goes back to texting Amira, and checks to see if Amelia responded.

“Maybe we can go another night,” his dad says, turning his head just enough to catch David’s eye over the back of his seat, “we need somewhere fancier, our son just finished his first year of university with straight A’s!”

David smiles before casting one more look out at the restaurant as his dad starts driving again, and once it disappears from sight he turns back to his phone. He doesn’t like to think much about the restaurant, though he knows the reason they haven’t gone in a while. He doesn’t like to think much about that reason, either.

After Matteo was sent to live in Italy, David had a rough time dealing with it. He had lost his best friend, the one person he could talk to about all of the new and terrifying thoughts that were just beginning to drift through his head, he lost him before he even had a real name for him to know. He was angry, at the world for taking him Matteo away, and then at his parents for refusing to let him talk to Mrs. Florenzi about it.

“You don’t understand,” they said to him one night, after he had gotten so frustrated he had kicked a hole through his door and thrown everything off the desk in his room, “yes, you lost your best friend, but she doesn’t have her son with her anymore. If you ask her about him it’ll just make it worse. We know you miss him, but this is for the best.”

He didn’t talk to them for weeks. After about a week of complete silence in the house Laura stormed into his room with the intent to yell at him over something, and it all boiled over. He started crying the second her glare focused on him, and then he started talking. He told her about how Matteo was the only person who understood him, didn’t question what he did or said or called himself, just offered support and companionship no matter what. Through his tears, in a shaky voice, he explained to her that he was a boy, that it was okay if she didn’t want to talk to him anymore but he couldn’t deal with only one person knowing, especially if he didn’t have that person anymore.

She had sat on the edge of his bed and listened, nodding along until David could breathe again. She thanked him, told him that it was okay that he was angry, and asked if he had a name he wanted her to call him. He had hung his head, ashamed that his answer was no. She had nodded at that too, and said, “Well, we’ll find one then.”

David sighs at the memories that had come flooding back at the sight of the old, slightly dilapidated restaurant, and texts another friend. His dad orders a bottle of wine at dinner and pours David glass after glass, until his mom cuts him off with a tipsy laugh of her own, and he’s smiling with red cheeks when they leave later that night, stumbling to the car on steady legs as his parents laugh fondly at his state.

He collapses into bed that night with an urge he hadn’t felt in a couple of years. He takes his phone out and unlocks it after a couple of tries, ignoring the messages from Amira from earlier and opening Instagram. He gets distracted commenting on a friend’s post, but then goes to the search page and hesitates before typing in Matteo Florenzi.

He’s done it before, of course, tried to find him on every new social media site that popped up over the years, and he’s never found anything. That’s why he sits back up in his bed, his jaw dropping open as he sees an account called matteohno, and sees the profile picture, sees that he can almost recognize the face in the tiny circle, and he clicks it.

There are more pictures than he expects. He scrolls to the bottom, trying not to get ahead of himself, and clicks on the first picture he sees. It’s tagged with the name of some restaurant, as far as he can tell, and Matteo is in frame, David can tell it’s him. He has the same button nose, same floppy, dirty blond hair, same half smile on his face like he’s waiting for the right time to let a full one out. David lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

He scrolls through all of the pictures, his heart tightening each time Matteo is in them. The memories that have always been hard to think about, of a little boy, sensitive, quiet, happily following David’ lead, were especially hard to reconcile with these new pictures. Matteo looks like he’s grown into himself, more confident in himself or his abilities, David doesn’t know, but it makes him smile and send a pang of something through his chest.

There are pictures of food, and Matteo alone, and Matteo with random other people, all the captions in Italian so David can only guess what they say. He stops when he sees one, Matteo and some other young looking guy, their arms draped over each other’s shoulder as they laugh and each hold up a rainbow flag.

He locks his phone on the image, feeling something strange and nostalgic twist up in his gut, and drops his head onto his pillow. He closes his eyes, thinking back to days full of running through his backyard, hiding from angry parents and talking more deeply about life than kids should be able to.

He wakes up the next day, mid afternoon, with his head pounding and his phone buzzing with a FaceTime call from Jonas.

“Hey, man, is this your shirt?” Jonas asks, and David squints at his screen to see button down shirt he’s holding up, “I think it got lost in all my shit.”

“Uh, maybe?” David says rubbing a hand over his eyes. He blinks them open again and sees Jonas on his screen, smiling knowingly.

“Too much fun celebrating with the parents, huh?”

David flips him off.

“Okay, okay, love you too bro,” Jonas says, chuckling, and then continues, “I have to go though, I just found out that one of my old friends is coming back from Italy this week, I need to call him and yell at him for not telling me.”

David feels his face drop, but puts a smile back on and says goodbye before Jonas hangs up.

#this was a cute one omg i love them #davenzi

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peachypunk22 · 3 years

Text

Harringrove Feedback Fest

not me participating in something when I haven’t been active in months 😅

fic recs from AO3 authors that inspire me! these fics are all incredible and i’ve re-read each one listed multiple times!!

@gothyringwald thank you for putting this together! its such a cute idea!

knit more tightly together by lymrics (E) @lymricks

part one of the blues in chicago series. i think one of the first harringrove fics I read. love the steve/billy dynamic and so emotional and high tension that im pretty sure it made me cry at some point? even though it’s not a sad fic! idk it just really pulled some emotion up. literally the fic that got me into the fandom and wanting to write for it! the whole series is amazing!

Steve takes a second to feel relieved it's not Dustin getting all sorts of arrested in places he shouldn’t be, then he goes back to staring.

It's Billy, who looks as good now as he did the last time Steve saw him: three years ago. He looks just as complicated, too. He’s got bruises on his face, a split lip.

star-crossed bullshit (black holes feast) by ?? (E)

this work got orphaned, but i’m so glad the author didn’t delete because it’s one of my all time faves! strong dom/sub undertones and messy relationship with an incredible use of the unreliable narrator! plus it has mechanic!billy

Billy makes a mixtape for when he fucks boys, except it’s on Spotify, and he’s only fucking Steve, and all the songs are oddly, and suspiciously, romantic.

liquor (on your lips, makes you dangerous) by eternalgoldfish (E) @eternalgoldfish

i love a college!au with some gross hot Billy and this one is so good. equal parts cute, funny, and sweet with a side of kinky that I hadn’t read before

“Careful, sweetie, don’t break a nail,” Billy said, leaning over Steve’s shoulder, lazy cat’s-grin gleaming up to his eyes.

“I’m not going to break a fucking nail.” Steve hissed and elbowed him, like he hadn’t been thinking the same thing as he struggled to wedge one of his shiny red nails into his wallet’s tight leather pockets.

Or, Steve makes a bet he can't win and Billy doesn't realize his mistake.

i’m saucing on you by Boardingschooled (E)

speaking of college!au’s this one has fratboy!Billy being gross hot in all the best ways. also sweaty concert grinding, boys being absolutley smitten, and waffle house breakfast dates? it’s like college slaps you in the face and makes you listen to AMINE and it’s great

Steve wants a ticket to the biggest party on campus; Billy's got one with Steve's name on it.

Tale as Old as Time by hoppnhorn (M) @hoppnhorn

i’m an absolute sucker for beauty and the beast au’s and hoppnhorn is such a fantastic writer that i had to include this one

Prince William, imprisoned in the form of a beast, can be freed only by true love. What may be his only opportunity arrives when he meets Steven, a man who bewitches him from the very moment he steps foot in his enchanted castle.

Honeyed Wine by Antarc (T) @rascheln

am i biased because this fic has literally all of the thing i like because it was written for me? perhaps. but for real, this fic is SO sweet and well-written! it has baker!billy and a twist at the end that i did not see coming at all. every time i read it i just have a huge smile on my face

While he recovers from an injury at Robin's farm and helps run her market stall, Steve unexpectedly reunites with his old high school rival. Billy, once a tough asshole who got into weekly fights, is now a proud owner of the best bakery in town and mans the stall right next to Steve's- with the best croissants Steve has ever eaten.

samarra by gothyringwald (T) @gothyringwald

i think this was the first fic in a long time that i’ve read that took a more gen/mystery/sci-fi approach, with the romance taking a backseat for most of it, and honestly this fic made me remember how much i like reading. the story and universe building is excellent. very trippy and gives off a lot of twin peaks dream walking surrealist vibes.

When the kids bring Billy back from the dead, it doesn’t go quite as expected: he’s alive but his soul has been left behind. And Steve is the only person who can bring it back.

Salt in the Wound by SheWritesDirty (E) @shewritesdirty

if ‘fuck your enemies’ was a genre, this would be THE fic. rough, gritty, and violent. I could wax poetic about how much I love the writing style and imagery and how different it feels in comparison to other fic. steve and billy are toxic and messy and so bad that its good

The way he ate slow, like his jaw hurt. Like it was tender, like whatever had put that bruise on his face had left more of an impact than just… flesh and bone. And now that he was seeing it... Steve knew that he hadn’t done that to Billy.

That someone else had, after that night and over the weekend... someone else had gotten their hands on Billy and put karma into his skin.

And he still hadn’t looked at Steve.

Here I Go Again by HeckinaHandbasket (E) (WIP) @heck-in-a-handbasket

oh god oblivious!Steve is top tier in this A/B/O fic. combine with a lifeguard!billy that’s trying (and failing) in his rough, fumbling way to make it obvious that he’s courting him and you get this adorable mess. it’s so sweet and funny and the rest of the gang are actual little kids that run around and create havoc. i’m always excited when it updates!

Not just a new lifeguard, either. No, Billy was the lifeguard supervisor.

Because of course he was, the prick.

Swing Away by lemonlovely (E)

sports!au sports!au sports!au - specifically a baseball!au that actually serves as a really cool character exploration of billy and his dad and sports. this one is so bittersweet and i love the dynamic between steve and billy as they figure out a rocky start to a friendship and romance

Steve and Billy go to the same Hawkins Baseball Camp that Steve's been going to since he was a kid, and Billy is not particularly thrilled to be there - he fucking hates baseball, alright? And he tells Steve as much.

lamp-bright rind by nagdabbit (G)

chef!Billy teaching his neighbor Steve how to cook au. unbelievably sweet and a writing style that is unique, expressive, and comedic. you really fall in love with the characters, as flawed as they may be, and the descriptions of food. did i mention its an almost 100k slow-burn?

Billy spies on his cute neighbor, his cute neighbor doesn't know how to cook. Luckily, Billy can do something about that.

#harringrove feedback fest #harringrove #i tagged everyone's tumblrs that i could find #but yeah check these out!!

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 33

Chapter 33

Series Masterlist

Summary: It’s Fred’s 35th birthday and the start of the season.

Warning: Swearing, drinking, smut

Word Count: 9500

“Mommy when will Daddy be home?” you toddler shrieks running back to you from the front door. The season recently started with a season opener in Philly on Fred’s birthday last night. They are flying back and you are celebrating Fred’s birthday tonight, with a party on Tuesday on their day off. Fred told Oliver he would be back at 11am, and it’s now 11:10 so he is eagerly awaiting his return.

You hear a ding on your phone alerting you to the front gate opening “I think he’s home now” you respond standing up with Liam wrapped in your arm. Oliver squeals and runs down the hall while you pick Noah up, who yawns against you.

“Happy Birthday Daddy!” you hear Oliver scream as soon as the door opens.

As you round the corner you hear his bag hit the hardwood floor while he bends down to catch him “thanks buddy.” Fred rises to his feet and kicks his sneakers to the side walking towards you with Oliver clinging to his neck.

“Hey” he says placing a soft kiss on your lips you faintly taste the coffee on his lips. He adjusts Oliver on his side and grabs Liam from you.

“Daddy there is so many decoarations” Oliver cheers from his hip. Fred pulls away with a smirk and starts down the hall.

“Really lets go see” he says footsteps receeding down the hall. “Woah look at all them” Fred exclaims seeing the streamers and balloons scattered around, gently setting Oliver on the ground.

“I helped” Oliver exclaims grabbing his hand dragging him around the living room to show him everything; his excitement radiating off the walls. “These are my favourite!” he points to two numbered silver balloons “five and three.”

“Right because daddy is how old?” you ask him.

“Thirty-five” he repeats back skipping around the room. You hear Fred grumble something and shake his head, not overly thrilled about the milestone he is reaching. You laugh and sit on the couch waiting for Oliver to finish the tour, although the house isn’t overly decorated, most of them will be put up closer to his party.

“Wow it looks great Ollie” Fred says sitting beside you on the couch, he lays Lucas across his thighs and tickles his stomach eliciting some giggles from him.

“Mommy says we are having a party soon” he says walking over to the couch to play with his Lego.

“Good thing it’s not a surprise party” you say quietly causing Fred to chuckle slightly. He leans over and kisses you on the cheek; you turn your head and place a quick peck on his lips “happy birthday Freddie.” Fred brings his lips back to yours “thanks babe” he mumbles. Noah lets out a small whine and Fred turns his attention to the baby in your arms. He pulls him into his arms bouncing him slightly, your head falling onto his shoulder.

You look down at Noah and Lucas, their bright eyes staring up at you “think there eyes will stay light?” you ask Fred. “Ollie’s were dark from the beginning.”

“Maybe, they will change soon if it does” he responds, wiping some of the drool from Noah’s face. A big yawn falls from your lips, you bring your hand up to cover it but Fred turns to look at you.

“They keep you up last night?” he asks “thought they were sleeping pretty good the last couple weeks.”

“No they slept for 10 hours straight, all of us did. I don’t know why I’m tired” you say through another yawn. “I’ve only been awake for like 5 hours today.”

Fred shifts slightly beside you, and you pull your head away. He pulls Lucas into his other arm and puts Noah resting against his chest, relaxing into the couch.

“Just adjusting to the season, it’s always hard” you explain. Fred turns to look at you giving you a soft smile before turning his gaze to Oliver who is babbling away playing with his Lego. You rest your elbow on the back of the couch and lean your head against it, eyes shifting between your four boys. “It was hard before with one baby, now there are three” you yawn again.

“Go have a nap, can’t fall asleep at my birthday dinner” Fred laughs.

“What if they get hungry, there isn’t any pumped milk” you explain.

“We have formula?” he asks turning towards you and you nod back to him, eyes barely open on his shoulder. Over the last six weeks or so you have been struggling with milk production, which has led to a bit of formula being mixed in to their feedings. “Then we will be fine. Go nap. We’ll have some boy time.”

You laugh lightly and rise to your feet and make your way to your room. You crawl under the duvet and honestly don’t expect yourself to sleep; but after a few minutes your eyes get heavy and fall closed.

“Wow I think I’m wildly underdressed” Fred says walking in to the bathroom. He has on a tight black t-shirt under a long sleeve shirt left unbuttoned with some dark washed jeans. You look at him in the mirror while applying your lip gloss “thought we weren’t going anywhere” he says leaning against the vanity beside you.

“We’re not Kyle is coming here, but I figured it’s your birthday; your 35th birthday so I should dress up” you explain turning to him. His hand comes up and plays with your navy blue fabric. It is a high waisted navy blue strapless jumpsuit, the top is tight fitting but has a layer of fabric than drapes from the top of you breast to your waist.

“I’m not that dressed up” you smile “I mean I’m wearing slippers.” You bring your face closer, your lips hovering centimeters from his; you can smell his cologne and can feel his warm breath against your face.

Fred’s eyes narrow at you, you lean in a bit more “I’m going to go change” he pulls away leaving you to practically fall forward into the emptiness. You groan turning your attention back to the mirror. You try to shake off the encounter, but the damage has been done. Your panties are soaked.

You walk into the dining room and begin the finishing touches on the table, lighting the few candles in the middle. You hear little feet running on the wood floor and bend down to grasp Oliver “oh look at you” you say looking at him. Fred dressed him in some jeans with a white long sleeve shirt with a plaid sweater vest.

“Daddy did my hair like his” he says bringing a hand up to his head.

“I see that, you look very handsome” you see his red hair has been brushed to the side and he even put a little bit of gel in to hold it in place similar to Fred’s. Only difference is where Fred styles the curls out of his, he left Oliver’s falling around his face.

“Mhm” he hums in your arms while you drop him on the floor. You hear some cooing and Fred walks around the corner with the twins. They are each in plain onesies but Lucas’s bib looks like a bowtie and Noah’s makes it look like he is wearing a tie.

“I was going to get them dressed but I figured they would just drool or puke on whatever I put them in, so we opted for stylish bibs instead” he explains and you laugh.

“Well they are still very cute” you smile helping buckle them in to their high chairs. You stand up straight and take in Fred, who substituted his jeans for khaki’s and has on a blue dress shirt. You’re eyes drop to his collarbone where he left the top couple buttons open, exposing the top of his chest. Your mouth waters seeing his chain dangling inches from his muscles that are peeking out.

“I feel like your eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat or something” he says lifting your chin with his thumb. You chuckle lightly, the edges of your lips curling up slightly.

“Oh it smells so good” you moan ignoring his comment. You were going to take Fred out to a restaurant for dinner, but he said he wanted to have a low-key night with the family before the party. While Oliver likely would have been okay in a restaurant you didn’t want to push your luck with the twins so you opted to bring in a chef to cook for you. This way you don’t have to spend hours preparing a meal, that you know wouldn’t taste nearly as good, and the five of you can enjoy time together.

“I don’t smell anything” Fred says rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“Really?” you say nudging your face against his touch “he was just starting to roast the walnuts for our salad earlier; they smell like they are done.”

“I’ll take your word for it” he says bringing his lips down to yours. His hand cups your cheek and tangles around your hair. He slowly pulls away, his taste lingering on your lips. He steps aside and pulls your chair out, gently pushing you in to the table.

He sits beside you at the top the table, and picks up the napkin. He unravels the fabric, gently running it through his fingers; you become mesmerized watching his fingertips dance along the stitching. You wish it was your skin his fingers were dragging across; you swallow the lump in your throat when his hands dip below the table placing the fabric across his lap.

You are brought from your trance when Kyle walks in setting the salads in front of you “see the walnuts” you point your fork to the bowl.

“Mhm” he says stabbing his fork into the leafy green.

“Oh I forgot to ask about wine” Kyle says popping his head back in the room, holding a bottle of white and red in his hands. He walks closer stopping between you, for you to examine the bottles.

“Umm” you say looking over trying to decide.

“I think I’m fine with just water” Fred says before you can respond.

“Oh…um me too” you respond not wanting to drink alone. Kyle nods and turns around leaving the room “don’t feel like drinking tonight?” you ask bringing your gaze to Fred’s.

“No I’m kind of tired and have a game tomorrow” he explains. “I mean I didn’t have a three hour nap this afternoon” he smirks bringing his water glass to his lips. The two of you dive into casual conversation, while Oliver randomly tells Fred stories from the last two days.

“Ready to sing?” you ask Oliver lighting the last candle on the cake. He jumps down from the barstool and runs into the dining room beginning the song, you laugh and join him.

“Happy birthday dear daddy, happy birthday to you” you set the tray in front of Fred, who pulls Oliver onto his lap. “Want to help blow them out?” he asks and your son immediately blows them out, though it’s not hard given there is only 4 candles.

“This is a nice looking cake, did you make it Ollie?” he asks.

“Yeah daddy! I mixed it, and helped put the icing on and the sprinkles” he muses bringing his finger to the icing and to his mouth. You laugh and sit down beside them, pulling him into your lap.

It’s a small rectangular chocolate cake with chocolate icing; which Oliver claimed is Fred’s favourite but you know it’s actually his. While you have ordered a cake for the party, you and Oliver made one for your dinner tonight. One of your favourite memories from your childhood was making cakes on your parent’s birthdays.

“What about the candles” you ask him.

“It’s buzz lightyear and a firetruck” he exclaims while Fred cuts him a piece.

“You pick them out?” he muses already knowing the answer.

“Yeah!” Oliver says excitedly moving to his seat to eat his piece. He pulls you into his lap your arms wrapped around his neck. He reaches around you bringing a piece of cake from the tray to his lips, his other hand resting gently against your hip.

“Tonight was perfect skat” he murmurs pressing his lips against yours. You can taste the chocolate on his lips and feel his pants tighten under you. You pull away with a devilish grin, placing your hand on his chest and your head on his shoulder. You feel his chest rise and fall while he brings a few bites of cake to your mouth while you look out at your sons.

“Dinner was great babe” Fred says walking into the pantry leaning against the counter.

“Uhh, yeah it was” you say opening scanning over the shelves mindlessly. You just finished cleaning while Fred put Oliver to bed.

“What are you -” he asks.

“Found one” you say reaching behind some boxes to pull out a granola bar that had fallen out. You tear the package open and take a bite turning around “what I’m hungry” you shrug brushing past him.

“So I have one more present for you” you say finishing your bar. “But its upstairs” you gently graze your finger over his hand walking by him. You hear Fred groan while you walk down the hall. You make it to the stairs when you feel Fred’s arms wrap around your waist and he carries you up to your bedroom.

Once at the door Fred gently sets you down pushing the door open. Walking in the room, the lights are off the room being illuminated by flickering candles. Lying on the bed is a white square box with a red bow.

Fred’s lips ghost the skin behind your ear while he walks you forward to the bed “you got me more than enough already” he mumbles.

“Well it’s kind of for both of us” you tease rocking your hips back onto him his warm breath drawing you in. His mouth grazes the skin under your ear gently kissing your soft spot, goosebumps run down your spine.

He walks over to the bed sitting on the edge; you sit beside him while he pulls the box into his lap. He tugs on the bow the fabric falling onto his lap. He pulls the top of the box, throwing it aside to reveal some black tissue paper. He digs through it pulling out three different sets of lingerie, setting them on the bed.

He runs his finger over them and turns his head to you “I couldn’t decide on one” you explain. “Figured since it’s such an important birthday you should pick” your hand falls onto his thigh, inching its way higher.

His eyes scan the fabric lying out on the bed in front of him; he brings his hand to a black set and points “this one.”

“M-kay” you say grabbing it and skipping off to the bathroom. You change into the black teddy with cut-outs on your waist and back. Your stomach covered by a sheer black fabric with intricate floral designs. You adjust yourself in the piece and pull your black satin robe overtop, tie resting loosely on your hip.

You walk into the bedroom, Fred having placed the other options and the box on your dresser. He is sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, legs gently crossed at his ankles. He smiles when he sees you walk in, you crawl onto the bed straddling him.

“I love birthdays” he mumbles pulling you into his hard chest, his hands running down your side to your thighs. You laugh and bring your lips to his, your hands running through his hair. You roll your hips against him, tilting his head back engaging him in a heated kiss.

He yanks on the belt around your waist, your robe opening up to expose your body in the lace. He pulls away his eyes gazing up and down your body. You see his Adams apple pop from his neck, his eyes swimming with desire. “Fuck I love birthdays” he groans tangling his hands into your hair pulling your lips down to his.

After a few minutes Fred pulls away, both of you gasping for air. You bring a thumb to his lips wiping away some of your smeared gloss from him. “I actually got you something” he says reaching down beside the bed.

“That’s not how birthday’s work babe” you tease as a brown paper bag is dropped between both of you.

“It’s for the both of us” he shrugs shifting to sit up straight against the head board. “I didn’t really have time to wrap it though.”

You laugh knowing the only time Fred has a nicely wrapped present is when someone else does it for him. You reach in to the basic bag and feel a rectangular box wrapped in plastic and pull it out. You examine the box in your hand, eyes scanning over the box. A pregnancy test.

“What….uh” you trail off processing what’s in your hand. You run your hand through your hair, scoffing in the process. “What is this? Why did you get me this?”

“Come on babe” he says “it’s pretty obvious.”

“Obvious? What’s obvious” you ask getting slightly agitated. You set the box on his lap and crawl off him crossing your legs. “Are you saying I look pregnant?”

“No. No. Definitely not saying that” he chuckles awkwardly. “Just the way you have been acting” he says.

“Uh-huh” you say shaking your head. “And how have I been acting Fred?”

“Just you have been tired the last few days” he starts.

“Did it ever cross your mind that I’m tired because I have three kids, two of which are only 5 months old” you retort looking a few centimetres beside his face.

“Yes, obviously, but it’s more than that” he says bringing his hand to your thigh. “You are eating more than normal. I mean you had an extra salad after dinner and a granola bar a couple hours after we finished. Last time you were like that was when you were pregnant” he says softly.

“And the time before that was when I was breast feeding Oliver, because breast feeding uses a lot of calories” you say shaking your head. A loud exasperated sigh leaving your lips.

“Babe” he says gripping your hand “I’ve seen you pregnant twice before.”

“Yeah and I have been pregnant twice, I think I would know if I was pregnant again. Wait is this why you didn’t drink at dinner?”

Fred exhales “yeah, if I drank I knew you would, and if you are pregnant”

“I’m NOT pregnant” you cut him off.

“If you are you can’t drink. I figured if I didn’t drink you wouldn’t drink.” Fred shifts to sit closer to you, placing a hand gently on your thigh.

“Maybe I’m wrong, maybe you’re not. But isn’t it better to be safe and take the test” he asks concern carved across his face.

“I’m not taking the test” you cross your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking the test because I’m not pregnant.”

“Did you ever make an appointment for birth control?” he asks pulling you into his chest.

“Yeah” you respond your body stiff against his chest reluctant to lean into his embrace. “It’s next week” you mumble. Fred chuckles slightly, you feel him chuckle slightly against you. “But I’m breast feeding; you can’t get pregnant breast feeding.”

“Babe, have you actually looked into that?” he asks softly.

You turn your head to look up at him “what do you mean? The doctor told me I’m good for six months.”

“Okay well I looked into it, and that is true under some circumstances” he trails off. But there’s a lot of reasons it stops being effective.” He pulls his phone out and unlocks it showing you a website.

“Right here” he says handing it to you. You’re eyes scan over the screen.

“See the second point” he asks

You must fully breastfeed your infant, meaning that the baby receives only breast milk. Also, breastfeeding must be maintained with both day and night feeding, and no long intervals can occur between feedings.

“We give them formula sometimes” he says. Yours hands drop from your chest and you place your hand behind you putting your weight on it.

“Not a lot though, it’s mostly milk” you respond ignoring the advice of medical experts.

“Okay, and what about the last one’ he says brushing your hair behind your shoulder.

You must not have a period.

You sit in silence reading over the last sentence, having had one a few weeks ago. Fred kisses the satin fabric on your shoulder, he reaches out and grabs the test “you should take it babe” he mumbles against you.

You push his body away from yours “I’m not taking the test because I’m not pregnant.”

“Why are you impossible” he groans throwing his head back. Your frustration in the situation results in tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You sniffle silently as a few warm tears falls slowly roll down your cheeks and your throat tightens.

“(Y/N)” Fred whispers moving beside you. He brings his hand up to your face wiping away your tears with the back of his finger.

“No” you shake his hand away from you sniffling back your tears and rise from the bed. You walk into the closet; you hear Fred’s heavy steps behind you stopping against the door frame. You pull your satin robe from your body and hang it back in the closet. Next is the black set which drops in a pile at your feet. You step out of it and walk through the closet toward Fred, he tries to compose himself but you see his eyes rake over your body while he follows your body through the room.

You brush by Fred, his hand reaching out to grasp your wrist stopping you in your tracks. You crash into his hard chest; he wraps his arms around your shoulders holding you close. Instead of melting into his embrace your arms hang stiff at your sides.

“Come on babe” he groans.

“Fred I’m really not in the mood right now” you push off him walking over to your dresser and pulling out some pajama’s. After everything that has transpired you aren’t exactly feeling sexy or in the mood anymore.

“Babe I obviously meant the test” he sighs. “It’s not hard, the next time you go to the bathroom you aim your pee onto the stick” he jokes trying to lighten your mood but you shake your head in response; pulling your tank top over your head.

“I’m not pregnant Fred” you chew walking over to the bed and crawling under the sheets. You roll onto your side, your back facing Fred’s side of the bed. You feel the bed dip and he crawls up behind you still leaving some space.

“Babe why is this so hard” he asks brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you whine.

“Babe this isn’t about trust, I obviously trust you” he wraps his arms around you kissing your neck lightly. “It’s just you are showing early signs of being pregnant. All I’m saying is that it’s possible” he pulls you up against his chest wrapping his arm around you.

“No it’s not because I’m breast feeding” you groan “it works as birth control.”

“Yes but we haven’t been 100% with our birth control. Last time we weren’t 100% you got pregnant with Oliver” he chuckles his warm breath on neck.

“Fred stop I’m not pregnant” you huff. You push his hand off you and shift away from him. You put your arm under your pillow, and adjust yourself.

“I’m sorry I upset you, I probably should have brought it up better” he says but your body remains frozen in place. “I just…I didn’t expect it go like this” he whispers. You don’t react but you swear you feel him reach out to touch you before deciding against his judgement. Finally you hear Fred sigh and adjust on his side of the bed; the two of you lie in silence. You’re too frustrated to sleep and Fred to upset and annoyed by your stubbornness.

You feel the bed shift a few times, Fred letting out a few exaggerated sighs; you refuse to move the entire time. He knows you are awake, and you know he wants to talk but he doesn’t know what to say. Your eyes are locked on the clock on the other side of the room, watching while the minutes drag on.

Over two hours go by before you finally hear Fred snoring beside you. You roll onto your back staring into the darkness at your ceiling, finally free from his waiting gaze.

***

You walk downstairs hearing the light chatter from some of the guests who have started to arrive. Walking past the stairs to the basement you hear the shrieking laughter of children and some banging of hockey sticks. You laugh knowing you likely won’t see your son much until you drag him away.

Walking into the living room, Fred is over in the corner talking with a couple of the guys, Kathy and Carlee are at the island pouring drinks. You walk by the guys and Fred’s eyes pop from his face and he almost chokes on his drink. You wait until you pass him to before letting a smirk cross your face knowing your outfit did its job.

You opted to keep it relatively casual with a white button up shirt, the top few buttons purposely left unbuttoned and it’s tucked into your high waisted 3 button denim pants. Your hair and make-up are kept pretty simple and natural with minimal products and nude lips; a grey wool fedora resting gently on your head.

“How do you never look like you’ve had kids?” Carlee scoffs.

You laugh lightly “it’s amazing what the right shirt can do.”

“Nonsense” Fred says placing a quick kiss on your cheek. You shift slightly into his touch “you’re beautiful.” You shake your head slightly and wrap an arm around him. It’s been 5 days since you’re argument, and during those 5 days you and he haven’t had much contact.

You took the boys to the home game which went a lot better than you thought. Oliver took off and spent the entire game with some of the kids his age and the twins while awake were relatively unfussy. While you have put on a front when in the presence of other people; at home has been a different story.

You talk to him about his day and the kids, but otherwise if you try to and talk to Fred he will immediately cut you off asking if you took the test. When you say no, he stops engaging in the conversation. You don’t see the need for the test and Fred believes the later, thus leaving the two of you in a stale mate.

It’s not that you have been enjoying the silence from him, every time you see him laugh with Oliver or smile at the twins it tears on your heart strings. You want nothing more than to see his upper lip curl while he brushes your hair out of your face. For him to crawl in bed after a game and wrap you in his arms, lips ghosting along the skin of your neck. To feel the heat from his 6’4” body on top of yours, your hands running down his back slick with sweat.

Instead he hugged you once after the home opener and here now. All in front of people, all to hide from everyone the current situation you are in. And it’s not that you are in a fight, neither of you are mad at each other. Fred is irritated by your stubbornness and thinks the only way to get through is to do this. But through your stubbornness you aren’t afraid to wait him out.

You are pretty sure if it wasn’t for the beer on his breath he wouldn’t be the first to initiate what appears to be an apology, but you’ll take it. You feel Fred’s hand resting on the small of your back ever so gently. But even as soft his touch is it has you dripping from your core and toes tingling. You release a soft sigh from your throat; it gets caught in your throat breathing in Fred’s cologne. While subtle Fred picks up on your que and shifts slightly closer to you.

“So does 35 feel different?” Carlee asks handing you a drink.

Fred laughs a little bit “You know I didn’t think so until I compare my life to five years ago; when I was 30 I was single with no kids.”

“No grey hairs or permanent bags under your eyes” you joke, Fred nudges you rolling his eyes.

“Anyways when I think of my life from five years ago then it kind of hits me.”

“Well 35 looks good on you” you say. You stand on your tippy toes and Fred gently presses his lips to yours.

Your hand reaches the top of your head tilting the hat slightly to allow him more room. While most of your interactions have been for the benefit of other people, this isn’t. The way he is gently holding you but keeping you safe against his chest, the way his mouth brushes against your lips makes you think maybe you are both ready to put this to rest.

You pull away and he smiles reaches his eyes. You bring your hand to his lips and wipe away the lipstick that has spread onto his. He chuckles and leans in to place another kiss on your lips when there is a loud commotion from a lot of the guys. You hear some loud teasing and laughter and both your heads turn towards the noise when you see Auston and Mitch in playful chirping with some of the Penguins.

“Freddie” Auston calls out walking over to you both, after hugging him he wraps his arms around you.

“You guys made it” you say smiling up at him.

“Yeah, they let us come down early” Auston says, the team is supposed to fly down tomorrow to play Philly.

“How are you doing momma” Mitch asks lifting you off the ground for a big bear hug.

“I’m good” you respond laughing softly.

“Where are the boys?” Auston asks.

“Some of the girls have the twins” Fred says “they are being passed around, probably won’t see much of them.”

“And the little man?” Auston asks twisting the cap off a beer.

“You didn’t hear him in the basement” you chuckle walking away. You make your way through the crowd brushing off some conversations before heading downstairs. You watch as Oliver is in net, two of the younger players shooting against him, you watch Oliver stick his leg out deflecting a shot.

“Woah look at you, almost as good as your dad” you say drawing all the eyes to you.

“There’s a surprise upstairs for you Ollie” you say and his eyes light up. His ministicks clatters on the floor and he runs past you “what is it?” he shouts running up the stairs. You hear his feet tread up the stairs and you follow him, before you reach the top step you hear him scream out “Uncle Auston, Uncle Mitch!”

As you round the corner you see your son holding on to Mitch’s neck, both of them leaning over the snack table. You groan knowing Mitch is only handing him the sugar treats but before you respond a hand grips your wrist pulling you into the pantry.

“Fred” you groan smelling his cologne “he’s just going to give him candy. The last thing our three year needs is a belly full of candy.”

“It’s a party smuk” he tilts your chin to draw your eyes to his “let him have his fun.” You shake your head letting out a displeased groan as Fred sets a cup on the counter and puts his hands on your hips.

“Thank you for all this” he smiles “getting Auston and Mitch here.”

“Yeah I’m glad they could come and” you are cut off when his lips reach yours placing a soft kiss on you. You tilt your head back to allow him more entrance but he pulls away chuckling. “Babe the door is open and there is like 30 people out there” he laughs.

“I know, I just….you haven’t kissed me like this in days” you whine a pout forming.

“Who’s fault is that huh” he says teasingly his lips a centimeter from yours. You shake your head, not willing to take the fault for this, even if you know it was an overreaction.

He picks his drink up and bringing it to his lips taking a sip “this is good babe what’s in it?” he asks.

“What?” you ask “you poured it” you chuckle turning you attention back to the party.

“No elske I grabbed your drink when you went downstairs” he hums in your ear. “Carlee makes a good mojito. I like that she added some raspberries in with the lime. There is something different about it”

“Oh yeah” you respond absentmindedly shaking your head as Auston hands Oliver a cupcake.

“It’s missing something” he whispers pressing his wet lips on your jaw. He gently places a few more kisses on your neck before finding your sweet spot. You giggle feeling his mustache hair tickle your ear as he pulls his lips millimeters from it.

“It’s missing rum babe” he whispers and your head snaps to the side almost hitting his face “why is your drink missing rum skat?”

You swallow and pull your face back to look in his eyes “I…I’m not…I don’t…” you stammer out. He smirks at you teasing his lips in front of his face, he quirks an eyebrow waiting for a response. He steps back leaning against the counter on the other side, arms crossed with a smirk.

“I didn’t take the test” you almost whisper your eyes dropping to the ground. You lean against the counter across from him while he waits for you continue. “But I thought maybe I should” you pause bringing your eyes up to his. At this point he is smiling ear to ear knowing he was right “and Carlee saw the test when she was looking for my hair spray.” You say laughing “so she is making me virgin drinks tonight until I take the test. She said she isn’t leaving until I take it, and she kind of scares me when she gets mad.”

“So you’re taking the test for Carlee” he laughs walking towards you wrapping his arms around you. You melt into his touch moaning as you breathe in his cologne.

“I’m going to do it tonight” you mumble into his chest. His mouth presses into your hair and a deep exhale leaves his chest. “I still don’t think I need it though. You two are just being ridiculous.”

He gently strokes his hand up your back, pulling some of the tension from you. He ignores your comment because he doesn’t care how he got you to this point he is just happy you are going to do it after almost a week. You stand wrapped in his embrace when you hear a loud bang from the kitchen which causes you to jump and separate.

You enter the party and see Mitch picking up a barstool from the ground Auston cleaning up a spill. Oliver comes running past you to Fred who throws him in the air before pulling him into his chest while laughter erupts from him.

“Daddy we do cake now?” he asks.

“You haven’t had enough cupcakes already” he teases wiping the icing off his chin.

“No” he replies.

“You sure?” he asks tickling his side. His laughter erupts filling the room, drowning out some of the scattered conversations and music that is playing. You walk away towards the crowded island wedging yourself between Auston and Mitch.

“You think this would happen?” Mitch asks. “Like three years ago when you were pregnant with Oliver and we all had dinner. Did you even imagine this is where your life would end up?”

“No not at all” you laugh remembering that time in your life. “At that dinner I had no idea what I was going doing with my life, it was terrifying.”

“Well I’m glad it all worked out” Auston says wrapping his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him for a soft side hug. Your arm wraps around his waist and you both watch Fred as he holds Oliver upside down by his feet while he squeals under him.

“Yeah me too” you say softly the edges of your lips curl upwards watching Fred and Oliver.

Three years ago, you had no idea what to expect with your life. You never imagined a life with Fred or friendships with Mitch and Auston. You honestly didn’t think Auston liked you in the beginning, he always seemed skeptical of you. Not that you can really blame him, you gave everyone more than enough reasons to doubt you.

But once Auston opened up to you, you understood why he is one of Fred’s best friends. While you don’t get to see him a lot during the season between their schedules; you always see spend time during the off season with him. That and the constant facetimes are part of the reason he is one of Oliver’s favourite people.

A few hours later everyone has left, the kids are all asleep and Carlee is downstairs trying to sleep off the liquor so she isn’t hungover on her flight tomorrow. You feel Fred come up behind you his hands wrapping around you resting on the counter on either side of you.

“Come to bed” he whispers as you pour some of the cups down the sink. He gently brushes your hair behind your shoulders and uses it to gently kiss your neck.

“The mess babe” you groan seeing scattered half empty cups and plates with food left around the room. “The cleaning lady comes tomorrow, and I gave her a very generous tip 2 weeks ago in preparation for this.”

He hooks his fingers into your belt loop and tries to pull you away from the sink but you push back rinsing out the cups. “Babe” he whines sucking on the back of your neck. You rock your hips back to his groin, when he reaches around you to turn the tap off; you feel his lips smirk against your skin.

You spin around and Fred quickly pushes you against the counter, pulling the collar of your shirt back to expose your neck. Your knuckles grip the counter while he sucks on your collarbone, “Fred” you groan “Carlee could come up” you say between your moans.

“Uh-huh” he hums against your skin, his mustaches tickles your ear as his mouth moves further up your neck unbothered by a possible intrusion.

His mouth is centimetres from your ear when you feel his teeth graze your skin before he bites your neck. “Frederik” you scold playfully pushing him away.

His eyes are dark as he bends down wrapping an arm around your knees and throws you over his shoulder. Your hat falls onto the floor and you shriek as he runs up the stairs two at a time. He kicks the bedroom door shut with the back of his heel and in a few large strides he is at the edge of the bed throwing you onto it.

You rest on your elbows and watch as he pulls his sweater. He undoes his belt and slowly pulls his pants down his body. You’re a bundle of nerves wrecked with anticipation feeling wetness drip from your core. He stands up with just his boxers on; your eyes walk over his body breathing in the curves of his muscles.

The past few days you have only caught glimpses of Fred getting out of the shower or changing a shirt, but it has been too long since you’ve laid eyes on him. Your gaze slowly drops until you see his bulge, straining the fabric of his boxers and your chest noticeably heaves.

Fred grins and reaches out to your ankle pulling you to the edge of the bed. He begins to undo the three large buttons on your pants while you slowly release those on your shirt. You lift your hips and he pulls the denim from your legs while you throw your shirt into a pile on the side.

You hear him mumble some Danish curse words as his eyes wander your body. You have on a matching white lace panty and bra set with floral embroidery. Resting on your waist is a matching delicate garter connected to some sheer white thigh high stockings. “You didn’t get to see me in any of the gifts I bought” you explain rising to rest on your knees.

He pulls your face up pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips while you both fight for dominance. His hands slide down your back, tracing the outline of your thong his fingers gentle run circles around your hole.

You feel his already hard dick twitch on your stomach while he swallows. “You’re gonna kill me one day you know that babe” he groans You press your lips to his, fingers dancing with the hem of his boxers for a brief second before pulling them down his large thighs. His hard member flaps against his stomach, the sound echoing in the room.

You see the precum that has spilt out and lick your lips. Hearing Fred’s breathing become uneasy you bring your tongue to the tip moaning at his flavour. You pull away and lick along the underside Fred’s head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut.

You hollow your mouth and flatten your tongue, sliding him in. You start slow, each time taking a bit more of him in your mouth until finally your nose touches his pelvis. You thrust your mouth slowly looking up at him through your lashes. His hands gently grip your hair, pulling the few strands from your mouth and away from your face.

You slowly increase your pace gagging slightly while you breathe through your nose. You bring your hands around to his ass and give him a squeeze pulling him onto you. He begins to thrust his hips while your jaw relaxes around him.

He increases his pace when you playfully pinch his ass. He holds your head steady while he takes complete control fucking your face. Curse words fall from his lips, while drool falls from yours. Your tongue swirls around him, and his hips stutter.

You gently begin to massage his balls and it sends him over the edge. He pulls your head onto him when his dick twitches shooting ribbon after ribbon into your throat. Finally he stops and you pull off choking on some of the cum in your mouth, a little dribbling out.

“Sorry” he mumbles walking to the bedside table to grab his water bottle for you. You take a sip and Fred reaches down to grab his boxers and gently wipe the saliva and cum that has spilt down your chin. He takes the bottle from you and sets it back on the night stand before he lies on the bed, head resting on his pillow. He curls his index finger and beckons you towards him.

You rise to your feet and stop beside him “on or off?”

“Underwear off, everything else stays” he says and you smirk. You had an idea this would be his preference so you wore your thong over the garter to allow for easy removal. You step out of them and kick them aside climbing on top of him.

You grind your hips against him and Fred groans recognizing how wet you already are. You lace your hands with his using it as leverage to continue rolling your hips on him. You feel him start to get hard again causing you to smirk when Fred releases your hands. He grips your hips and nudges you closer and you follow until you are hovering above his lips.

His warm breath blows onto your folds, his beard rubbing against your thighs. His hands grip your hips as he pulls you closer licking up your juices that have been building. He moans feeling your wetness tongue grazing arounds your folds, your anticipation having built for the last week.

You gasp loudly when his mouth attaches to your clit, your hand finding the headboard for stability. His tongue swirls around your entrance when he finally pulls you closer slipping inside your walls. Your other hand slides down into his hair tangling into his locks.

His tongue dances inside your walls, sliding in until his nose brushes against your clit. He gently rolls your hips on his face while soft moans slip from your mouth. He finds your sweet spot and gently brushes it with each stroke. He could easily be sending you over the edge but instead is taking his time, relishing in your taste.

His one hand gently begins to caress the back of your thigh while soft whispered curse words are falling from your lips. His hand slowly trails up your ass tracing the hem of the white lace. His pinky strokes around your hole and you shutter above him. You feel Fred smirk below you, as he does this a few more times.

“Freddie” you moan softly feeling your orgasm start to build. As if right on cue he brings his hand down and slips two fingers into your slick heat. Your head falls back when he begins to suck on your clit and thrust his digits deep inside you.

He sucks hard on your clit, grazing it along his teeth. You tremble at the feeling, hips pulling away at the contact. “Stay still” he mumbles, his other hand digging in to the skin of your hips. Your moans turn into whimpers slowly getting louder as he pumps his fingers inside you.

You can feel your walls tightening, and Fred does too twisting his fingers inside you. Your whole body is hot and you can feel a bead of sweat trail down the valley of your breasts. Fred continues pumping his fingers in you and your legs begin to tremble above him.

You are seeing stars; Fred continues his movements to drag your orgasm out, getting lost in your moans. Your walls flutter around him and you spill over his digits while his mouth continues to suck, drawing out your orgasm. Your hands fall onto the bed in front of you, barely able to support yourself as Fred stills under you.

His fingers slip out and find your hips and he gently lifts you just high enough for him to slide out. You feel the bed shift as he crawls up beside you kissing your shoulder. You crane your head and he smiles taking in your wrecked appearance; mascara on your cheeks, sweat mixed in your roots while some saliva and spilt cum has made some of your ends stick together.

You smile taking him in, juices in his beard, a scratch mark on his forehead from you grasping too hard. But your favourite thing besides his boyish smile is that his eyes aren’t blown with lust, they are soft and adoring while he examines the woman he loves.

He watches your chest rise and fall waiting for it to return to normal when he brings his lips to yours. He slowly pulls you onto his lap while you rest on your knees. He pulls you up, so his mouth is in line with your chest. He gently presses his mouth to your chest slowly sucking his way up your neck.

Your head falling to his shoulder as a silent cry expels from your lips “Got you smuk” he mumbles against your collarbone while he slowly pulls you down to his lap.

You feel his hard member poke at your entrance your hands returning to his hair. He slowly coats himself in your juices before slipping inside your sensitive core. You drop down on him a few times, each time he groans when you bottom out.

His hands grip your ass cheeks using them to guide you. Your pace starts slow and just as you are about to increase it, you feel Fred’s finger dance around your hole. You shudder at the feeling, your head falls onto his shoulder when you bite your lower lip.

He slowly slides in two fingers, still soaked from your juices while your body heats up. You continue your slow pace, your teeth digging into Fred’s shoulder. You hear him mumble but you can’t hear over the ringing in your body. Eventually his patience wears thin, his hips snapping as he thrusts into you.

His fingers slowly move around inside you, while his dick quickly pistons in and out. You bring your head up only to place a quick sloppy kiss on his lips. You taste yourself on him, and lean in further swallowing Fred’s groans in your lips. When you finally pull away you both are breathless and gasping for air.

You aren’t going to last much longer. Fred works his fingers at a slower pace than his cock, but the two combined has you a writhing mess. His mouth finds your collarbone as he sucks bringing your release even closer. Strangled moans and curse words fill the room.

“I’m close” you hum against his collarbone.

“Let go baby” he whispers into your hair. “I’m right behind you.”

A few more hard deep thrusts and you come undone around him. Your walls flutter around him, spilling down his hard member and your thighs. You moan loudly while he continues to thrust into you working you through your high. You feel Fred stutter under you giving you a few more thrusts before pulling you down to spill deep inside you.

He coats your walls white muttering Danish in your ear but you are so spent you can’t focus on anything until he finally stills. His hand gently strokes your hair from your face; you see the beads of sweat on his forehead and down his chest.

“I love you” he mumbles gently pressing his lips to your forehead taking in your post orgasm bliss. You smile back in response feeling his lips gently brush against yours.

“I’ve missed you” you murmur breathing still erratic. While you have seen him every day, had silent dinners together and slept a foot from him, you almost have missed him more than when he is on road trips. He chuckles and brings his lips back down to yours cautiously pulling his fingers from your hole.

You wince at the feeling, but Fred quickly grips the back of your thighs carrying you to the bathroom. He takes you directly into the shower setting you on the bench. Shivers run up your spine from the cool tile while he turns on the water. You stand up and walk right into his hard chest, bottom lip shivering from the cool air.

Fred just laughs and pushes you backwards until you are under the warm stream. He runs his hands up and down your arms, his touch along with the water warms you up and you begin to massage some shampoo in your hair. Fred finishes his shower first and helps to rinse the conditioner from your hair. You melt into his touch, letting him gently scratch your scalp.

Once you are both done you stand wrapped in each other’s embrace. You feel his chest release a deep exhale and you turn your head to look at his. The two of you stand there for a few minutes neither of you moving, water rolling down your bodies

You feel the weight in the room shift from playful to serious, your breathing echoing through the shower. “You ready?” you whisper.

“No” he laughs.

“What do you mean no! I thought you wanted this” you reply stunned.

“Babe I’m terrified” he chuckles nervously.

“About having four babies?” you whisper.

“No we can handle four” he responds finger trailing over your spine. “We we’re worried about how stressful three babies would be and we’re killing it so I have no doubts we can handle 4. I’m terrified because last time you were pregnant it was hell for you, you almost died.”

“Because of a car accident” you trail off.

“But before that you were in so much pain, like every part of you. You had extremely high blood pressure; your feet, legs, back and hips were constantly in pain. I felt like I could hurt you just by looking at you. It killed me” he chokes out.

You sigh but don’t say anything knowing how much he struggled watching you, how helpless he felt. Nothing he did was good enough. He felt responsible, even though you both decided to have a baby. It was something you both wanted, it was just harder than you could have imagined.

“We don’t know it will be like that again” you say so quiet it’s almost inaudible. The air around you is cold and filled with tension. You tremble your damp hear sending a chill to your spine.

“We don’t know it won’t“ he says stepping away to grab your towel wrapping it around you.

“Well it’s a good thing the test will be negative, won’t have anything to worry about” you say softly.

“I always worry” he almost whispers before walking away, leaving you alone with your towel draped over your shoulders. Instead of drying yourself you stand still, legs quivering underneath you.

He returns wearing some track pants, running his hands through his wet hair. He laughs seeing you in the same spot he left you in, too chilled to move. He helps you into some pants and pulls one of his t-shirts over his head. It’s one of your favourite t-shirt, having borrowed it from after you gave birth to Oliver.

He had left some laundry in the dryer and gone to hockey. When you went to dry your clothes you found his and started to fold it, when you stumbled across the blue jays t-shirt. You were new to the city, struggling to adjust to life in Pittsburgh and life as a mom and the shirt reminded you of home.

When Fred came home and saw his shirt smothering your tiny frame, one side tucked into your leggings he didn’t say anything just smiling. You washed it and put it back on his bed, later that night you found it tucked in your drawer. Ever since then his shirt became your shirt forever waiting in your drawer.

After taking the test you set it on the counter and wash your hands. Fred sets a timer while you both stand arms wrapped around each other in silence; you can feel his heart beating in his chest. “These five minutes are always the longest” you say softly.

“Feels different than last time with the twins” he says and you laugh.

”Yeah but it reminds me of when I took the test with Oliver” you say tilting your head to look at him. “I was wrecked with nerves. I puked waiting for the results” you laugh.

“What did you do when it was positive?” he asks.

“I took five more” you laugh. “And then I curled up in bed and cried, probably for an hour straight.”

Fred brings his eyes over to yours, scanning over your face. All the things you and him have shared you never told him this. “I still didn’t believe it until my doctor actually told me. Then I set out trying to find you, not remembering many details besides the whiskey and four orgasms.” Fred sighs against you, but his silence says more than any words.

“Fred” you say softly “I love you.”

“I love you too smuk, more than you’ll ever know” you rise on your tippy toes closing the distance. Not the full distance he is 6’4” after all. He tilts his head to bring his lips down to yours, his mustache brushing against your upper lip. Your hands run through his beard tangling in his hair, his hand pressing on the small of your back.

Suddenly the alarm goes off startling you. You swallow and set your feet back on the floor. The two of you take one final minute before walking back over to the vanity, flipping the test over.

Next Chapter

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #Freddie Andersen #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl fic #nhl smut #because two people got drunk #my writing

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glumpiglet · 4 years

Text

Indulgence (F!ReaderxBeetlejuice)

Alright well in my other fic ‘Reassurance’ I had an idea of Beetlejuice being all hot and bothered by the reader licking a knife. And I explored that a little more… And I did realize I might have a little bit of a food kink… ANYWAYS This is the product of that. Woof, enjoy or like tell me it sucks please, whatever... I’m so nervous posting this. I’m blushing and i know this isn’t even that lewd.

Warning: NSFW! 18+! I am going full smutty smut smut with this. Beware. I’m talking about Oral, Overstimulation. Light BDSM. the works.

You believed people could find satisfaction in any number of things. Food was one for you. From a young age you took your time with meals, savouring the tastes and textures of what you put in your mouth, wanting to know best how to prepare the things that nourished you.

The career you had didn’t consist of being some five star Michelin chef, but you were a good cook. Took care with the food made and was always trying new things in the kitchen. Even spent most of the extra money you had on any appliance or ingredient that caught your fancy.

What you never expected was ever to share the company of a ghost, never mind a demonic, powerful spectre that was Beetlejuice. Or Lawrence as he let you call him.

A dead boyfriend was something you had been taking pretty well all considering. BJ was quirky, to say the least.

Lately you have been trying to give him hobbies other than attempting to scare the living shit out of those around him, and trying to get your attention all the time.

Showing him how to collect bugs from the garden, you had an old aquarium brought out and set up with the ghost, watching with pride as he took to it naturally. Filling it with dirt, sticks; creatures flitted around inside and you saw he was becoming quite the connoisseur.

Loving books was another passion of yours, had a pretty well stocked bookshelf if you did say so yourself. It had taken weeks to get Beetlejuice to confess to being subpar at reading and spelling. You didn’t know what kind of education he had had, but teaching him had been a thrill. It had been slow, arduous work, but he was coming along nicely, reading at an excellent level. You even had a decent Stephen King collection Beetlejuice seemed to enjoy.

Another peculiar thing about Beetlejuice made itself known when you cooked.

Beetlejuice acted strange when you ate. He hardly ever joined in on your meals, had told you once that he didn’t need to eat much, being dead for forever and all.

In all honesty it would have been easier had he had any desire for the food you so enjoyed.

Instead he sat at the table, and watched.

You had to get over your shyness quickly. Beetlejuice was exorbitant, a bundle of energy. Boundaries were something that did not exist to him. Even before you started having sex, he was constantly touching; playing with your hair, marveling at your soft, smooth skin.

He was particularly devilish tonight. You could tell by his sly smile, his whole body practically glowing green. Bolts of pinks shifting through his hair as he caught you up on his trip to the Netherworld. And maybe you were trying to tease him a bit tonight, comfy in a pale nightgown you knew he liked, and could felt your nipples perked with the AC running through the house.

Having to practically push him out of the kitchen as you cooked the pasta however, he kept getting in the way and you were going to burn yourself if he tried to distract one more time.

Once the dish had been cooked and you sat down to eat, watching with amusement as Beetlejuice scraped the nearest chair towards you, he plopped down in immediate proximity to you. In the past, it was common to have to tell him to get his own chair on several occasions, he had a habit of wanting to just sit into your lap.

“.......So I says to him, ‘Buddy, I don’t know where you think you are, but that’s no guppy biting your leg!”

Giggling at his boisterous story, the two of you shared a laugh as you slipped some of the noodles into your mouth. You had begun to grow your own tomatoes and zucchini, and had to say it was a success so far, they were juicy, almost sweet. This might have been the best primavera you made in your life.

Moans were coming out of your mouth before they could be stopped. Your family was always making fun of you about the way you ate, joking they couldn’t take you to restaurants because of it. It couldn’t be helped. Taste was your favourite sense, a thing that activated the happy nerve in the brain, making your body react in a subconscious way.

Beetlejuice went silent.

Taking a few more bites, humming at the flavour and oblivious to BJ’s sudden change. A moment you looked up and took notice of how the air was tense.

BJ didn’t scare you in day to day life. But you knew never to underestimate him, and to not play innocent around him. Beetlejuice was a predator, a veritable horror show of demonic talents that were solely used for scaring breathers.

Still, when Beetlejuice gave that look, golden eyes glittering with savage intent, hair blown a completely different colour; you knew it wasn’t scaring he had in his mind.

BJ pounced. Gripping your shoulders, he kissed desperately. Shoving his tongue into your mouth, you stumbled, dropping a fork as he basically hauled you up. Pinned by his body against the table, you made a noise of discontent at his assault as he pulled back, looking with eyes blown wide with lust.

“Fuck….. Sorry, babes, I need you..” Swept up in his surprise attack, a bolt of pleasure made you quake as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck, latching on and lapping the skin.

Beetlejuice was obsessed with marking, rubbing his facial hair vigorously across sensitive parts, biting and sucking sometimes on the peak of being painful. You knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you, sometimes his eagerness could take over. On the tip of your tongue was a protest, but when it was realized you weren’t going into work tomorrow….. You’d suppose he could have his way.

“Now.” The growl against your cleavage was impatient. You knew if you didn’t stop his rough clench of his fists in your nightgown, he would just rip the thing in two. As he manhandled your body, there was the instinct to submit, allow him to have his wicked way.

You knew the truth.

He missed you.

It was at your encouragement that made him go back from time to time, he mentioned having several friends ‘back home’. You felt bad for him, he had said he had been stuck invisible among the living for a long time, longer than you could comprehend.

Then one day you were being curious about ghostly things and he showed you a book called ‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased.’

“Why do you have this? You’re not recently deceased.”

He looked at you as if you’d grown an extra head, and explained slowly.

“It comes with the tote bag, babes.”

He even opened it, once you realized you couldn’t ‘being a breather and all’. It was the oddest thing you ever saw. Glowing pages filled with ancient looking text. It smelt of old pages and sulfur. A line caught your eyes ‘Proceed directly to the Netherworld…’

“This says in order to get to the Netherworld, you just draw a door.”

“Yeah that’s how it works…. Welp, cupcake, you don’t wanna read that boring thing…..Wanna see a puppet show?”

Trying to take it from you, you held it out of his reach. Beetlejuice could be so deflected sometimes. It became a game, and you were getting really good at knowing which questions to ask.

“Wait, I’m confused. You mean you’ve been able to go back the whole time? Why haven’t you?”

Snatching the book from your hands, he muttered about ‘bad idea’ and ‘stupid’ until you got it out of him.

“I never really….Belonged there. My mom was always telling me….. Demons weren’t like me, I was a failure….”

Juno. That cunt. Oh yes, Beetlejuice had told you about his ‘mother’.

Realizing if you took a trip down, you might be able to give that rotten bitch a good piece of your mind. Sadly, trying to get him to take you to the Netherworld had been a vehement ‘no’.

“Absolutely not, (Y/N). Breathers are not allowed there and…….I don’t need anything to ever happen to you.”

That had been it on that, you couldn’t exactly argue with him. Pushing murderous thoughts to the back of your mind, but the idea was never completely forgotten.

“I think you should still go and visit your friends, BJ. I’ll be here when you come back.”

Assuring him over and over it would be okay, finally he began his vacations. Time apparently moved differently down in the Netherworld, he would be gone for extended periods of time. So once in a while you had to let your little bug fly away, but every time he came back, you remembered that old saying about ‘if you love something, set it free…’

Chuckling into the present, you tried to extract from his hold. “Slow down, I didn’t even finish my dinner.”

His hands greedily twisted in the fabric of your gown, bunching it up to your thighs, you shivered as the cool table was pressed against your ass. Feeling him slipping your panties down your legs, you shifted onto the table, more than willing to help his progress.

“Babes. I’m hungry. Tonight, you gotta feed me.” His intention was immediately clear and you gasped at his vulgar words.

Barely able to stutter out a “B-Beetlejuice!” The demon dove into you.

Intense, sudden stimulation to your clit had you reeling. Gripping his magenta hair, trying to find an anchor, you couldn’t stop from moaning out.

Beetlejuice wasn’t just enthusiastic when he ate you out, he was ravenous. Drooling at your taste, his growls were immediate, low and consistent like a beast. Added vibration from his response made your pussy clench. He just started but already you could already feel the flutters of an impending orgasm,

He certainly wasn’t helping. Face buried deep between your legs you began to hear low murmuring. Deep, rasping praises that you struggled to quiet to hear over his slurping.

“Mmm….Taste so fucking good, babes… That’s right….. Feed me your sweet cum.” You had to cover your glowing face with your hand. You couldn’t take Beetlejuice’s mouth sometimes. What it said, or what it could do to you.

That was it. His voice was enough. Lolling your head back, you surrendered as the convulsions overtook your body, pussy spasming as you came. Hard. Your hips swiveled, chasing the bliss. He slowed down to tender licks, but he didn’t stop completely. Your body continued to writhe, trying to push him away with hands to his forehead. His grip only intensified.

“Ohhh, jesus….. Sweetie. I’m not nearly full yet. You gotta give me more.” His voice was granite. Dark, and tensed through clenched teeth. His face was slick with saliva and cum, trails of the mixture stringing his face to your pussy, glistening his cheeks and your thighs. He was making such a mess of you, and showed no signs of stopping.

“I-I can’t.. I’m too s-sensitive..” Changing his pace, you could go limp as he gently sucked and licked at your entrance, teasing the walls just inside; running his nose over your swollen lips.

“I don’t think so, doll…. Hmm…. I think if I stayed like this for who knows… Another hour, you could come at least 4-5 times for me. That would fill me.”

“BJ, no!” Lifting your upper body off the table, you watched as two hands appeared from under his jacket, gripping your wrists to the surface as his own kept your thighs parted. Continuing your desperate pleas, more hands jutted out. Grabbing at your shoulders, your hips. Pinning you down.

Whining, your treacherous body peaked again, just the idea of being at his mercy heady. You loved when he was like this, as vulgar as it was.

“I know you can do it, babes. Just give me a bit more of you. I need it.” Snarling into your mound, he gave you a small respite and began to nuzzle and nip at your thighs. The hands were also being kind, stroking your skin, running across your nipples teasingly; letting you at least catch your breath before you hyperventilate.

“What's the safe word?”

“Chartreuse…” You considered using it, you seriously didn’t think you could cum anymore, the pleasure was too intense.

“That’s it, baby. You ready?”

Nodding, he began anew and you sighed at his soft, kitten licks. He knew just how to bring you around and soon you were pulsing, working your way to another climax, pushed harder by Beetlejuice’s minstrasions.

“You got it…. Just relax…... Daddy gonna take care of you.”

At some point, you lost track of time. Delirious, all you could do was lay there as he continued.

Beetlejuice alternated between rough, frantic treatment, or tenderly nuzzling into you, playing against your tender inner walls with meaty fingers. Orgasm number three and four reached you at some point, one brought around so softly and sudden you hardly realized you had it at all.

The pleasure started to move into pain. After shivering through one final eruption, you cried out in slight discomfort and Beetlejuice knew immediately.

BJ pulled back, multiple hands caressed down your body, making you shudder as they disappeared back under his jacket. Soon enough, it was just his own hands stroking your trembling thighs, shushing you passionately.

“That’s it...Delicious…. Fucking gorgeous little breather….. You did so good, baby.” His voice was wrecked. Nothing more than deep razor blades cutting in the air, reaching your ears from a distance.

Dazed was an understatement. You were knocked out. Sleeping on your dining room table was a pretty good choice at this very moment, but instead you felt yourself being lifted. He was floating with you in his arms, well you supposed having a demon for a lover had to have its perks.

He laid you down on your bed and you sighed into the cool sheets against your overstimulated body. Staying there comfortably, you couldn’t even gain the strength to open your eyes to see where the devil disappeared to.

You jerked as you felt a cool cloth being run around your privates, glancing up at Beetlejuice, rapt in his attention. The aftercare he was giving you never ceased to make your heart swell. He just treated you so well.

A burst of energy made you intent to return to favour.

As he leaned over you, you grabbed at his lapels, pulling him down onto you with an ‘oof!’ As you began your descent passed his tummy to his cock, deftly unbuttoning and slipping your hand inside. You weren’t prepared for what met you there.

Beetlejuice was flaccid. The idea that something was terribly wrong with him flashed through your mind before you realized something else. He felt sticky. Heaving out a choked, sensitive sound, he grabbed at your hand to still it. You put two and two together.

“Did you-?”

“Uh, yeah…….I came like three times during that… I guess I better get these off.” Giggling at his honesty, you watched as he snapped his fingers, transforming from big bad ghost with the most to the snugly little bug you hunkered down with nightly.

Pajamas you had provided for him when you found out he only owned the one suit…. Yikes. You’d have to ask him for that in the morning to wash.

Snuggling into your bed, once again thankful for his cooled body against your hotness. You ran your hand through the thick fuzz on his tummy, murmuring words of adoration to each other, you felt safe enough to drift off. Knowing that Beetlejuice would be right where you left him.

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice broadway #betlegeuse #beetlejuice x you #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuicexreader #musical!beetlejuice x reader #charles deetz #lydia deetz #beetlejuice #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice fic #delia deetz #the maitlands

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