#-a small piece needs to be under a lot of stress

[robinsonprojection]

My version of this is a fun one in my opinion, a super metal which does not practically experience mechanical failure, since it originates from meteors and thus is not beholden to local physics. (things like gravity/mass are only laws of physics in some places) In order to actually work with it in any meaningful way you HAVE to heat it up with a celestial material, Sunlight.

Practically speaking, since humans do not have the industrial capability to form the large scale mirror arrays necessary to concentrate enough light to melt the metal, the only place on the planet which can work with it is an enormous dragon controlled environment, where strong tidal influence combined with extremely finely controlled lava flows results in enormous plates of obsidian, which the dragon then cultivates precisely, planting large amounts of vines to preserve the mirrors when not in use, then creating conditions within the basin which causes the vines to dry and die off, before cleaning off the mirrors and polishing them

The final piece of the puzzle is an enormous tower constructed in the center with a spine of the super metal which allows it to be exceptionally fine, the combined light allows the metal to be melted temporarily, and thus cast into shape

(as an additional note, the dragon employs a complicated technique to separate the time experienced within the large mirror complex from that experienced by the rest of the planet, allowing it to take advantage of the time that the sun aligns with its mirrors)

This mirror and tower complex is located at the red dot on the right side of the map.

my #1 pet peeve with fantasy worldbuilding is when they have fantasy ores that can withstand impossibly high heats. how did they make it a sword then?? I desperately want to see this fantasy blacksmithing worldbuilding and i have been ROUNDLY DENIED IT EVERY TIME

[secretmellowblog]

People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.

The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.

But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.

The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.

This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.

Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.

So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-

And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—

And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!

If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.

The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.

It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)

I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.

I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.

The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win

[prkhaven]

DAD AND DOLLARS -p.js-

pairing— dad!jay x money struggling fem!reader

synopsis: The hot rich dad next door needs a babysitter? Sign you up.

genre: smut minors do not interact, dilf au, slight age gap (jay is in mid 20s while reader is in early 20s), p with plot, p with feelings

wc: 12.9k

-all warnings below cut-

warnings: slight jealously, profanity, kissing, alcohol consumption

smut warnings: unprotected sex (just don’t that), p in v, praising, dirty talk, oral (fem rec.), fingering, squirting, breeding kink, creampies, usage of nicknames (doll, good girl, sir)

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You looked dead center at your laptop to see the ridiculous total number summed up. Over thousands of dollars of student debt is yet to be paid off and you’re not even halfway done.

You closed your computer shut because if it was out of sight it was out of mind, at least for the time being. You sighed, rubbing your temple hoping to soothe the ache forming but the sudden loud beeping of a truck backing up disrupted your train of thought.

The annoying blaring sound only worsened your headache that it felt like it was going to explode any second. Your eye twitched, you were already running on 2 hours of sleep, you hoped to at least get some sleep in before working until late in the night.

Standing up from your table, you walked over to the small window that allowed just enough space to see outside but your eyes narrowed seeing someone’s back quite literally blocking your view. You quietly mumbled under your breath before wacking open your door.

You currently were in no mood to deal with any solisticing today.

“Look-” You began but quickly stopped when you see the scene before you, a man—a hot man at that, not much older than you or at least you assumed carrying a little girl who resembles him

His hair perfectly combed back showing off his forehead and neatly done undercut with his sharp jawline that looks like it could quite literally cut you in half, a nose bridge all tall and mighty as he wore a simplistic nude pink button up that managed to make your knees weak.

Not a lot of people can’t pull that color off but he sure as hell can.

What stood out to you the most was the jewelry that shone in the sunlight blinding you. Just from the mere pieces of jewelry alone, you could practically feel the success flowing through and out of him.

The jewelry the little girl wore outcompeted each and every single one you could ever own. And yet, that wasn’t enough to make you peel your eyes away. You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been staring until the said little girl pointed it out.

Embarrassed, you finally looked away and the mysterious man cleared his throat. “Ah, if you'll excuse my daughter”

Wait what. Daughter?!

You held yourself back from dropping your jaw. Even though you were assuming he wasn’t much older than you, he already has a daughter, a young one at that and you’re over here stressing over student debt. What stressful time you must be having.

“We’ve been up since this morning moving in, so she is a little antsy. Please do forgive us for disrupting you”

Anyone would be if they’ve been up since morning to mo- Wait Moving in?

It must’ve shown on your face because the male in front of you lightly chuckled but it wasn’t like the usual chuckles that you hear from other guys. It was rather deeper, more mellow and rumbled out of him and it twisted your insides out.

“We’ve just moved in next door” He adjusted his daughter into one arm hoisting her up with ease while his free hand extended a hand to shake with yours, “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Park Jongseong”

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Another exhausting day, another terrible pay.

You’re genuinely wondering how you’re going to manage to just make it by this upcoming month without falling into a hole and never coming out of it.

Your current job isn’t nearly enough to cover all your expenses in the slightest but there’s such a shortage of job opportunities that you’re stuck there until some miracle falls into your lap and presents you with all the answers to your prayers.

Rubbing your shoulders, you twist your head side to side to feel the crack of your neck relieving you from the tension in it but that’s when you hear the deep faint voice that’s been taunting your mind ever since you’ve heard it.

Before you could even prepare yourself or more like jam your keys into the lock to rush in before getting caught you hear the small greeting for you, “Hi miss!” You nervously gulp before turning around replacing your mumbled breath with a sweet smile towards the little girl holding her dad’s index finger with her small hand

“Well hi there!” You cheerily returned her greet with a fast wave, your eyes remained trained on her not daring to look up to her father hoping there would be no interaction between but the universe was not in your favor today

“Coming back after a long day?” His voice filled your mind again and you held back a nervous smile not trusting yourself to speak only left you to nod at his words

Your eyes rose higher until you caught him and he gave a tight smile and you swore your heart might’ve exploded right then and there. It was something so simple yet it had your mind reeling.

You awkwardly touched your neck making it seem like it was sore when in reality you were making sure you still had a pulse.

“Say goodbye honey, she’s had a long day at work. I’m sure she needs some rest” Jay softly spoke to his daughter who looked up to your shaky eyes and raised her hand to wave goodbye to you

Your heart melted as you happily waved goodbye to her.

Too caught up in the moment, you seemed to have forgotten the very man you were successfully ignoring for those few seconds his daughter had your attention, “Make sure to rest well”

Before you could register the words, they were already walking past you in hushed whispers. Your mouth hung open trying to figure out a response that didn’t embarrass you.

“Thank you Jongseong. Same to you” You opted to say through the few second turmoil and when he turned around hearing your voice, it’s corny to admit but it was like slow motion

Everything seemed to be forgotten about as you were solely focused on him. The earrings that hung from his ears, his folded up sleeves exposing his forearm and watch until you saw his beautiful smile. A warm genuine smile.

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“Woah- Hold on. You mean to tell me that good looking man I saw on my way here was your neighbor?!” Your friend shrieked once you broke the news to her

Supposed to be an important study session for your upcoming exam somehow turned into a 3 hour talking session, laptops and papers discarded.

You groan at your friend's words, hate having to be reminded that he was indeed your neighbor. So close yet so far from you.

“He dresses so damn good, looks like he has a lot of” Your friend rubbed her fingers together with raised eyebrows making you roll your eyes, “Plus I saw him with his little sister, he’s such a good brother”

“That’s his daughter” You unconsciously said and you didn’t realize until you took notice of the silence from your friend who stared at you like she had just seen a ghost

“You mean to tell me that was his daughter with him..?” You nodded your head and your friend nearly fell off of her chair at the sudden revelation, “Holy shit… You’re living next door to a dilf!” Your friend screech as she stumbled in her seat over to you

You jumped when she clasped your hands into hers, hopeful eyes staring directly into you with a certain mischievous gleam you knew far too well.

“So when are you getting on that?” Your friend raised an eyebrow and you shot her a confused look

“Getting on what?”

Your friend had to take a minute or so to just look at you in amusement but not in a good way.

“You mean to tell me you haven’t even thought about getting together with him ever since you saw him?!”

You yanked your hands away before lightly pushing her away shaking your head. “He’s either married or at least seeing someone” You said trying to make it believable for yourself more than for her—but you always noticed the lack of band on his ring finger every time you saw him or any sign of anyone else living with him besides his daughter

“I didn’t see any ring on his finger” Your friend shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head to the side

So he must be seeing someone. Because there’s no way that he is single and roaming the streets just like that.

You quickly went to grab your discarded laptop to move on from the topic. This was enough talking for today about your undeniably hot neighbor who just so happened to be a dad.

Your friend suddenly slammed your laptop shut. “What are you doing?” You asked but saw her finger pointed directly towards you

“No bigger question is what are you doing” Emphasizing the you in her sentence

You stared at her dumbfounded, making her groan in annoyance.

“When was the last time you went on a date?” You opened your mouth to respond, “I mean an actual date” You closed your mouth right up

“Exactly! It’s been so long since you’ve been treated, why not indulge in this nonsense just a little” She squished her thumb and index finger together showing basically no space in between them

“In case you forgot, I’m a broke student trying to get by till the end of this month. I don’t have ti-”

“Yeah yeah I know. You don’t have time. You don’t have the money. You don’t have new or fancy clothes” Your friend cited the same excuses you’ve given to excuse yourself from anything thrown your way, “But don’t let it stop you this time. I have a good feeling about this one” She softly hummed with a soft smile hoping you take her words truthfully

“He’s most definitely seeing someone” You softly muttered

“And if he’s not?”

The question made you think. Even if there was the slimmest chance that he was in fact single and was not seeing anyone, why would he look your way? You don’t have much to offer.

“He’s a dad” You reminded but her soft smile dropped into something more menacing

“Well that’s just the cherry on top, no?”

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“What would I do without you?” Your friend chimed, wrapping your sweater over her, it was well past midnight and you finally concluded your study session after all this time and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep

“You’d be walking yourself out in the freezing cold” She chuckled at your response knowing it was the truth but she happily skipped ahead but stopped in her tracks raising and hand up to stop you

Before you could ask anything, she pulled your arm to where she is and that’s where you see Jay. His little girl fast asleep in his arms, her puffy cheeks squishing against his broad shoulder as he carefully closed the door shut wanting to make as minimal noise as possible.

He locked the car and stuffed his keys into his trench coat and right when he turned he caught sight of you and your friend looking, he furrowed his eyebrows immediately noticing how you weren’t wearing a sweater even though you were clearly cold from the shiver you let out.

Instantly you gave a quick smile to him not sure why he furrowed his eyebrows towards you but he kindly returned your smile with his own before walking past you and your friend still making sure his daughter was still fast asleep.

As he walked past you caught a whiff of his musk cologne and you wholeheartedly wanted to delve straight into it. It made your head woozy, it wasn’t strong enough that it was overbearing but it was strong just enough that made sure his presence was embroidered into your mind even when he was long gone.

“Oh” You heard your friend murmur and you turned to look at her dazed expression staring at where he once stood at the side of his car, “You actually got a double D living next door”

“Double what?” Pure confusion written over your face and she rolled her eyes as if it was the most known thing in the whole wide world

“Hello, a double D! A father who has money. Dad and dollars!”

You’ve just had a revelation.

“You my friend have a hot and rich double D living next door to you”

“You’re unbearable” You scoffed but you gasped when she lightly hit you

“That’s you”

“But I am being so serious right now, you better get on that man before I do” Before you could retaliate her sentence you heard faint shuffling coming towards your direction and to your surprise, you turned to see Jay coming back minus his daughter

“Oh” He stopped in his tracks seeing you and your friend, “You’re still here?” It easily could be mistaken as a harsh slap to the face but his tone was soft and gentle that there was nothing to it besides true curiosity

You opened your mouth praying that something coherent would come out but your friend knew better than to trust you and let you figure it out on your own. Especially when he was right there.

“She was just being such a kind friend and walking me out” Your friend softly patted your back and you mentally cursed at how cold her hands were against your thin covered back

“What about you? Coming out again?” Your friend tilted her head and you had to hold yourself back from dragging her away

“Have to bring the grocery up” Jay lightly waved the car keys before unlocking his car as the trunk slowly opened

“We can help you!” Your friend suddenly chimed in and you felt all color drain from your face, you just weren’t sure if it was from the cold finally getting to your numb face or how he stops walking and turns around

“You want to help?” He raised an eyebrow and your friend eagerly nodded and threaded closer to him, when his eyes moved from her onto you wanting to see if you were coming along you remained frozen in place

All the time you were merely in his presence, your body shut down on you as you became just a hollow vessel. He expected a response—any response from you but when he was received with nothing his lips formed a thin line and nodded his head.

“W-wait of course she’s going to help” Your friend awkwardly chuckled before walking back over to you, “It must be the cold getting to her. Silly her for not wearing a sweater”

You came back to your senses when your friend smacked your arm and you winced feeling how your spiky skin was far more sensitive to touch from how long you’ve been out there.

Yet, you didn’t have any chance to collect yourself as she dragged you with her in front of him as she gleamed with a smile. He blinked at the sudden appearance of you in front of him while you gulped harshly trying to keep your thoughts sane.

Even up close, your eyes looked over his face, never able to settle on a single feature until you landed on the slightly chapped lips but moved your eyes up to catch his eyes. Under dim lighting he looked phenomenal.

“Alright let’s get those groceries” Your friend peeped

You looked away from him down to the ground before softly nodding your head. You were going to help gather some bags but you stopped when you felt a weight place around your shoulder. You looked down to see the trench coat over your body.

Turning to face Jay, he gave a gentle nod. “You need it way more than me” His voice rumbled throughout your mind earning the gears to shift inside you by his voice and gesture alone

His eyes examined you in his coat before softly smiling to himself at his thoughts, “Next time make sure to bundle up before going out. You can catch a cold easily”

The cold that was once lived in your body faded away into pure warmth and it was all thanks to your neighbor living next door.

It hadn’t taken long until all the groceries were brought into his place in one trip. Your friend huffed, shaking her head as if she had run a marathon.

You softly chuckled at her state and softly padded her back to help regulate her breathing again. Underestimating her energy after hours of studying finally caught up to her.

“Who… Goes grocery shopping at this time?” Your friend pants

“I guess that’ll be me” Jay chuckles earning a curious look from you which he catches, “There’s not enough time in the day that allows me to properly shop and get everything I need, especially when I’m with my daughter”

“Sounds like you need a babysitter-” Your friend starts but abruptly stops, you looked over to her and saw the same mischievous look on her face and it sent unease to rest in your stomach

“A babysitter would be nice” Jay lowly sighed but waved it off, grateful to spend time with his daughter despite his busy schedule, “I just haven’t had the time to properly look into that”

“Well look no further because I know the perfect babysitter for you” Your eyes widen and you’re suddenly pulled forward once again and stood in the middle of Jay’s place looking like an animal caught in headlights staring right at him

“W-wa-Wh” You tried to speak but nothing came out as you tried to adjust to what your friend just offered, who she just offered which was you

“You?” Jay sucked his teeth as he looked at you noticing how his trench engulfed your body and unconsciously you straightened out your posture, “Just for uhm precautions… Why would you be a good babysitter?”

The sudden light hearted demeanor from him changed instantly and you couldn’t blame him. Two random girls—one of them your neighbor who you barely speak to, was just offered to take care of your daughter just like that. You’d be surprised if he didn’t do this even if it’s late at night and he’s still yet to put the groceries away.

“I-I won’t mind looking after your daughter” You explained as best as you can as you felt Jay’s piercing gaze on you. Adjusting his jacket over you, your eyes flickered around, “I live right next door so I’ll never be far- Plus my schedule is pretty flexible even with schooling”

“And I mean it’ll benefit you in the end right? I’ll do everything I have to do to properly take care of her”

“I'd like to help you out” You managed to give a smile the moment you made eye contact with him which you hoped didn’t creep him out, “I mean- You know to make sure you don’t get burned out so quickly and have time to focus on yourself! Trust me I know how it feels and it’s not fun” You awkwardly chuckled and you could hear your friend smacking her forehead behind you

His eyes never left yours and it felt like he was able to read every thought in your head. There was a moment of silence and you wanted to lay down in a hole and never show your face again. You nibbled on your lip as you watched Jay’s hard gaze on you.

He let out a sigh nodding his head, “Alright. When can you start?”

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Running around gathering your belongings into your bag still making sure to be as quiet as possible in order to not disturb the sleeping child in your bed.

You picked up a sudden dropped shift with the expectation of receiving a higher pay for the unexpected inconvenience. You could really care less for the ungodly hour you’ll have to work, money is money and you desperately need it.

And right on time, you heard the faint knock at your door and you knew it was none other than Jay picking up his daughter.

This was only your first week babysitting her, the first time awkward but easy but after the 4th day it was better than the first time—much better or at least you thought it was.

At your door, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before carefully opening it to reveal Jay on the other side of it. A striking simple black suit that pierced your heart like an arrow as he adjusted his watch.

He raised his head to the sound of the door opening and gave a gentle smile making warmth spread across your chest. The silly little infatuation is driving you mad.

“Hi Jongseong” You greeted him, moving to the side just enough to welcome him in, “She was a little more tired today. She’s sleeping right now, just give me a second and I’ll go get her”

Without even being able to say a word, he watched as you disappeared. Normally, his daughter would be full of energy ready to greet him at the door when it was time to be picked up.

Keeping his lips in a straight line, he looked around your place noticing it was simple but homey. It spoke loud of who you were as a person which he’s come to realize, he doesn’t know much of.

He only knew the basic things about you but nothing in depth that could make him stand out in your life. He let out a deep sigh at the thought and rubbed his nape but stopped seeing you carefully carrying his daughter.

Her head rubbing against the juncture of your neck, her small arms wrapped around you and the fondness you looked at her with when she let out a small whine when you tried to hand her over to him.

Jay isn’t one to think of anything when seeing someone more specifically a woman holding his daughter but something bloomed in his chest as he watched you whispering in her ear making his daughter pull her ahead away from you to him.

He opened his mouth with a smile and extended his arms which his daughter easily slipped into from yours to his. “Hi sweetheart” He gasped as she quickly knocked her head into his chest and curled into her father’s embrace

You handed over her sparkly pink school bag towards Jay which contrasted his attire but you think it suited him quite well and found it more cute.

“Thank you so much for looking after her” He softly said and just hearing his soft voice made your knees want to buckle but stuck with just waving it off as nothing

His eyes looked you up and down and took notice of your clothing. Rather than the comfy clothes you wore the first time he came to pick up his daughter, you wore more formal clothing this time a jacket wrapped around you with your bag hanging off your shoulder and phone in hand.

Your phone vibrated and you looked at it to silently curse under your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “Is everything okay?” He asked and you forgot that he was still there for a second

You replaced your frown with a quick smile, “Yeah, I just have to head out soon for my shift”

Jay’s eyebrows knitted together, “A shift? This late?”

“Whatever can pay the bills” You sadly chuckled and shrugged it off not noticing how Jay stared at you perplexed, he just got off his shift and here you were going to yours

“How are you going to get there?”

“Walking but if I’m lucky I can catch a bus” You explained but noticing time passing by you don’t think the chances are high

Jay remained silent, contemplating something as you walked them out. His daughter stirred awake when you locked your front door. You quickly apologized and tried to soothe her back to sleep but she looked between you and your dad with sleepy eyes. “Where are you going?” Her voiced slurred with sleepiness

“I have to go work” You softly explained but she tried to reach out to you shaking her head

She mumbles something ineligible and you softly giggled before stroking her head leveling with her whispering a soft goodbye again. Jay watched all of this unfold between his daughter and you, the same bloom in his chest forming all over again.

“I can take you there” Jay spoke before being able to comprehend his own thought process,

Your hand dropped to fall to your side. His eyes widened as he stared at your shocked expression

What the hell is he saying? His mouth opened and closed trying to follow up his statement but nothing came out. But his daughter seemed to understand him better than he understands himself. “Yes!” Her energy suddenly boosted up at the thought of being able to spend more time with you

Jay stared at his daughter, shocked at her quick interest, he looked over to you and saw the shake of your eyes before letting out a strained laugh. “I don’t want it to be an inconvenience” You said

“Ridiculous” He chuckled not realizing how it made the harsh thump in your heart hard to ignore, “Please” His voice softer than the first time

How could you say no to him? Well easy. You couldn’t.

Jay’s car reflected his personality perfectly. Nice and sleek, the black shining leather—Real leather—not some fake leatherette to taint his car. His daughter and your happy chatter filling the car as he follows the GPS to your job.

One could easily mistake the dynamic. Easily. His foot slowed down on the brake pedal coming to a stop in front of the shops that illuminated in bright colors, 24 hours.

“24 hours?” He softly muttered not thinking you’d pick up on it but hearing your light sigh he moved from the sign to you who had a small smile

“Like I said. Whatever pays the bills” You said, “Thank you for the ride I really do appreciate it” Your smile growing before turning your body in the seat to reach out your hand to the little girl in the back

“Don’t give your dad a hard time mhm?” You hummed which caused her to pout her lips, trying to reach other to grab your hand to keep you longer but the restraints of her car seat kept her in place

You shot Jay a different smile. Something warm and tense before stepping out of the car, waving goodbye to them before heading into your job with slack shoulders.

How could’ve he have been so naive, selfish, just so stupid. You’ve been taking care of his daughter while he’s been at work. Picking her up, cleaning up after her, making sure to give the proper meals needed all whilst welcoming her into your place easily, allowing her to sleep in your bed even holding back from taking regular scheduled hours to look after her just to end up working ungodly hours just to get money.

Money that should’ve been in your bank account from the first hour you looked after his daughter and yet, he hadn’t paid you a single dime.

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At the same time you heard the knock of the door. “Right on time” You said while standing up and making your way over to the door which you expected her to follow suit

You opened the door just enough, “Hi Jong-” But it slammed shut in front of his face

Your jaw dropped letting out a loud gasp to see his daughter’s hand on the door, a deep frown on her face before clinging onto your leg, shaking her head. “Don’t want to see him” She huffed

Knitting your eyebrows you crouched the door peeling her off your leg to hold her arms. “Now that wasn’t very nice to do but why don’t you want to see him?” You softly asked but you let out strained a yelp when she launched her arms around your neck

You wrapped an arm around her, hoisting her up. “I’m going to open the door okay?” The lack of response from her made your lip tug to the side before opening the door again

Jay rubbing his creased forehead stopped. You gave an apologetic confused smile but he gave a tired smile in return almost as if he expected it. “It’s time to go back home” You whispered into the little girl’s ear but she let out a whine, roughly shaking her head and only held onto you tighter

Confusion written over your face as you tried to peel her off her body into Jay’s but she wouldn’t budge.

Letting out a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his neat hair. The locks slotted through each crack easily, messily ruining the sleek style into something far more loose.

Awkwardly shaking your head from that thought to look at Jay. “Why don’t you come in?” You motioned him inside just like how you always did

How you welcomed him so easily when he hadn’t welcomed you like that showed the constraint he held himself up to. Sighing heavily as he walked in, you closed the door behind him—rocking the girl in your arms who hadn’t looked at her father once.

“Make yourself comfortable Jongseong”

“I feel like we’ll be here for a while”

And after hours of quite literal utter silence in your place, Jay’s daughter finally fell asleep in your arms.

“She’s asleep” You softly whispered to Jay who immediately perked up from the chair, sleepy eyes seeing his daughter happily laying against your body, a content smile on her face while in your embrace

“Oh I didn’t know you were sleeping-”

“No, it's fine. I’m sorry I fell asleep” Jay tried rubbing his hands over his eyes to wake himself up

“Stressful day?” You softly questioned, it was a little invasive but the lack of sleep infiltrated your regular thought process that you spewed anything that came to mind

Jay stayed silent for a moment, his hands moving away from his eyes to look over to your droopy ones. You still managed to have a smile plastered on your face, especially to him.

There weren’t many times he could be vulnerable, not when he has to prioritize his daughter over everything, to make money which is never an issue for him just to make sure his daughter could have anything and everything she could ever want.

A need to fill the void that no material could ever fulfill.

“Just a little” He deeply sighed, his back sinking into the seat again, his arm resting against the armchair

You nipped at your lip, “Want to talk about it?” Each word smaller than the last not wanting to overstep a boundary with him but it was an invisible opportunity that he’s been wanting, waiting for so long

“That’ll be nice”

As you laid Jay’s daughter into your bed, he stayed next to you the entire time. He knelt to the ground, placing a soft kiss on her forehead, mumbling something inaudible for you to hear before stroking his cheek with a saddening gaze.

He tugged at your sheets making sure she was fully covered before turning to face you. You looked at him with complete utter fondness and he stopped his movement. His gaze remained on you for a split second longer than he wanted trying to pull back his wandering thoughts from going deeper.

Clearing his throat, he knelt up from the ground which brought you out from the haze that you were. Your eyes widened as his eyes never left yours and you quickly turned a heel, “I-I have some wine, do you drink wine? Is wine good?” You rambled

Jay stared at your figure. He let out a deep sigh which soon grew into a small smile when you turned around to face him. The light behind illuminating your figure. “Wine is perfect”

Jay sat across from you, his usually strict attire now messed up. Three unbuttoned buttons from his shirt. Sleeves rolled all the way up to his elbow, his hair out of his slicked style to a messy middle part. Legs barely spread open, his lower body pushed forward as he twirled the wine left in his glass.

“She’s upset with me today” Jay sipped drops of wine out of his glass before resting it onto his lap, “I mean I don’t blame her. I promised that her mom and I would take her out but…” He sighed heavily

The mention of the mother made you suddenly tense. The first time you ever heard anything about her, neither did Jay or his daughter ever speak of her in your presence.

You gulped harshly, shifting on the couch. The material under your body is clinging onto your skin somehow. It’s a normal reaction right or maybe you’re overthinking. It must be the alcohol seeping into your system already even though you hadn’t taken a sip yet.

“We both got caught up in work so we had to reschedule but I had to be the bearer of bad news and when I had to break it to her, of course she was upset”

“I’m actually surprised she didn’t complain to you about it. She made it very known that she was upset at me and her mother” Jay sadly chuckled to himself, his eyes trained on the wine glass

“It’s not your fault” He quickly looked to you surprised to see the disagreement of opinion, “I mean- There’s some things that we can’t control”

“Especially when you and your wife work-”

“She’s not my wife”

Defying silence surrounds you and Jay. He was quick to rebuttal the assumption and it tingles something in your gut.

“Me and her mother co-parent. We were young and reckless and everything just happened before we even realized it and now we have our precious little girl” Jay chuckled looking up from the wine glass to look at you, a certain glint in his eyes.

“But we’re not- I’m not married”

You couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were enticing, captivating you deeper into the very thing you were holding yourself back from. Jay’s eyes never faltered from yours and you wondered how.

Trying to snap yourself from the moment to ground yourself in reality because even if he wasn’t married—Just co-parenting, he has to be seeing someone.

“O-Oh I see” You said, his eyes boring straight into yours

You harshly gulped while trying to ignore the bubbling warmth of hope soaring through you. A voice deep inside your mind voicing out your deepest desires.

Feeling as if Jay could see right through you and hear these thoughts made you shift in your spot again. What if he could hear them? What if he thinks it’s strange?

Through the slimmest possible lens, what if he felt the same way.

“Still don’t blame yourself for it… I’m sure she’ll understand sooner or later. Maybe take her out to help somewhat ease the situation until you and uhm her mother can take her out” You offered some advice as best as you could

Jay remained silent listening to you. His eyes finally look away from you and you let out a silent sigh of relief from the release of his hard gaze.

“Taking her out…” Jay’s voice was barely above a whisper, he twirled the wine once again deep in thought

You stared at him, anticipation slipping deep into each crevice as possible in you until he spoke up again with his eyes looking back up to you, “Definitely will have to do that”

There felt more to his words than the surfacing original topic of it yet, you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“You know she talks about you a lot” You were the one to look at him in shock

“Really? I hope it’s good thi-”

“Always” He interrupted taking another sip of the alcoholic drink to slip past in his throat, “It’s always good things” He smiled towards and there was the same warmth you felt whenever you with him grow 10 folds

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you. I’m sorry that it’s taken me so long please forgive me” Jay shuffled through his discarded jacket before pulling out an envelope leaning over to slide it over to you

“Wha-” His shirt fell just enough that if you dared to look longer you could see the necklace dangling and past it was his sculpted chest

You pulled your eyes to the envelope and grabbed it with shaky hands trying to hold back from showing the burning of your cheeks. Your palm clammy trying to open the envelope but slipping every time.

You continued to try opening the envelope but soon Jay’s calloused warm hands engulfed yours. You jumped at the sudden contact but not enough to pull your hands away. Looking up to him, his face is daringly close to yours.

Able to feel his breath brush against yours, you smelled the hint of wine but it made your insides churn in a rather dark way instead.

“Slow doll” His voice slurred and fluttering, “Take it nice and slow”

His fingers clasped over yours, guiding your movement in carefully opening the envelope. Holding your breath as he made your fingers slip into the envelope slowly slotting your fingers to grab the thin paper inside to pull out.

There was a slight shudder rumbling out of your breath causing him to slip up a smirk. Your eyes widen in pure shock as you read over the words on the paper or more like check.

A check written out to not even a hundred dollars but instead 2 thousand dollars.

“I-I- Jong-Jongseong”

Your mouth fell slack as you tried to find any words that could form at least anything in the slightest but nothing came out. “When are you free?” He whispered, his nose bumped against yours, his eyes looking deep and searching in yours

Your hands fell down with his on top, “I’d like to take you out”

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An all black outfit. The button up something you hadn’t seen before. It accented his shoulders that screamed to you, his daring built back that your fingers itched to claw at. His more relaxed but styled hair with the singular strand falling in front.

Jay looked so good but he wasn’t staying. Instead he was going out while you were staying at his place to babysit his daughter like you always do.

And yet, selfishly you should’ve made some lie that you were busy and wouldn’t be able to babysit his daughter.

But the look in his eyes swooned you and the silent hidden excitement from him landed you right on his couch with his daughter plastered against your side having to watch her dad finish getting ready.

“Please call in case of anything. It’s just some job party, nothing important. They always host them” He rambled trying to diminish the past excitement he had, “Actually you know what? I’m not going anywhere, I’ll just stay with you both” Jay said beginning to take off his watch

“Jay” You simply said which made him stop, he looked over to you letting out a deep sigh, “Go to it. When was the last time you were able to enjoy yourself?”

Two weeks ago when I took you out is what he would’ve said if he had the courage to.

That day two weeks ago had been the highlight of his social life that he’s had in years. Always being so focused on working and taking care of his daughter, he never paid attention to anything outside of it until you came into the picture.

He can remember it so vividly almost as if he were to be reliving it again. Your sweet smile greeting him and his daughter. “Hi” He breathlessly let out seeing you

He awkwardly fumbled with his suit as you took notice of his different style of hair different from the usual one you see him in. Instead of the usual strict sleek hair, it was loosely done, his hair moved to each side to expose his forehead slightly.

“Hi miss!” You looked down to see his daughter dressed up as she crashed her body onto your body in a bear-like hug looking up to you with sparkly eyes

Letting out a heartfelt chuckle, you stroked her head before looking up to Jay with a gentle expression. He’s never been bothered with seeing others with daughter and yet, everytime with you, he feels a twinge twist in his chest watching you and his daughter.

“Daddy give her your gift!” His daughter chirped making him flinch at the sudden spotlight on him, you tilted your head in confusion and he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck before straining out a laugh

He pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and your smile dropped before quickly growing into a bigger one. You nipped at your lip to hold it back anymore but it was near impossible.

“Guess the surprise is ruined” He softly murmur but you shook your head at his words and grabbed the bouquet

“It caught me off guard so I think it’s a success” You chuckled before grasping the bouquet, “They’re beautiful” You admired the flowers while he only looked at you

Jay was floored. “Yeah I know” He mumbled under his breath going unnoticed by you

“Thank you Jay” You looked up to catch him staring at you with a certain sparkle as he looked at you, he let out his own smile and if it wasn't for his daughter tugging at his hand, he wouldn’t have gotten out of the daze he was in any time soon

Instinctively looking at his daughter, he gave two fingers for her to hold and she looked over to you with her hand open. Instantly you knew what she wanted and allowed her to grasp your fingers.

“Let’s head out shall we? Our reservation is soon-”

“Daddy worked hard!” His daughter chipped in cutting him off, “Always on the phone talking to people for it” His daughter spoke making the tips of Jay’s ears turn bright red as you stifled a laugh

“Oh did he now?” You raised an eyebrow looking over to Jay who hadn’t said a single thing to rebuttal the accusation, it was true, he wasn’t going to deny it

He wanted everything to be perfect and by the end of it, it was indeed perfect. Jay held his sleeping daughter in his arms, your hand wrapped around his bicep able to feel the slight bulge of it as he walked you to your front door.

Jay felt accomplished. The day was filled with nothing but laughter and chatter minus the exception of sudden silence when many people mistaken them as a beautiful loving family out to dinner which always left Jay in a ringing frenzy until you snapped him out of it everytime.

He didn’t know why the usage of family with you, to have you be mistaken as the mother of his daughter or as his wife left him hot and his heart pattering against his chest.

“Thank you Jay for today. I had such a wonderful time” You smiled brightly and he was growing too accustomed to see your beautiful smile towards him

“It was my pleasure” He gave a tight smile as he felt sudden jitters all around, “I’m sure she enjoyed it too” He gestured towards his sleeping daughter

You nodded your head, a look of contemplation in your eyes before unlocking your door but right before you opened it, you quickly spun around and planted a peck on his cheek before fumbling with the door behind you.

Jay froze for a moment and just before you could slip through his fingers he strangled out a sound to stop you. You turned around, a faint dust of blush heating your cheeks as you lowered your gaze.

He gulped harshly not thinking this far ahead but knowing he had to come up with something, “I-I uhm if you want to of course- I’d like to take you again” He jumbled his words together until some sentence was formed

He anxiously looked at your dropped expression as you raised your head to look at him and he’ll never be able to forget the chuckle you let out as you nodded your head softly biting back your smile.

The beating of his heart reminded him of what it was like to feel like a little kid having their first crush ever all over again. It never bothered him not feeling this in a long time but now being able to experience it again, it felt nice.

And yet, somehow he never managed to gain any courage to see when you were free. Excusing it to be poor scheduling with his working hours and you taking care of his daughter and schooling hours with the very few work hours you snagged just for extra pocket money even when he offered to pay triple the amount he’s been already paying you—Which was nearly 3 thousand dollars daily.

Money is not an issue for Jay, never has been and never will be and he’s more than willing to cover all and any expenses you may have. His only issue is not nearly having enough courage to ask you again.

“Don’t worry about us, you know we always have our own fun here. Go have yours” Your reassuring voice reminded him of reality as you smiled through a fake smile

As wonderful the idea was if Jay stayed in that exact same outfit and didn’t go out for everyone to throw themselves at him. You knew it was unreasonable, these job parties are probably hosted in the first place with hopes that he shows up to at least one of them.

Ignoring the bubbling gnaw in your stomach twisting your stomach inside and out, Jay lets out a defeat sigh, clicking his watch back on and dusting off the imaginary dust off his clothes.

“Say goodbye” You whispered and Jay’s daughter smiled widely waving goodbye to her dad who stared at her and you in complete awe

He walked over, his hand resting on the armchair and leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead. In the process the same musk cologne filled your nose making your head dizzy and having him in closer proximity made your heart thump out of your chest.

His side profile was nothing but sheer perfection. You nibbled at your lip as you examined his features up close, always finding yourself in this very position. And yet, he was beyond reach.

Your lips tugged downwards but tried to replace it with a smile when Jay pulled away and looked over to you. His eyes boring into your wavering ones like usual, there was a split moment of hesitance. You gulped trying to ignore the patter of your heart.

Instead of saying goodbye, Jay’s breath shakily fanned yours with a staggering thing smile plastering on his face, “See you soon”

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He expected the party to loosen every fiber in his body but instead his emotions were only heightened ten folds. Every passing second he’s looking at his watch counting down the milliseconds waiting for what seems like a reasonable time to leave.

Sighing heavily, he shakes his head. He shouldn’t have listened to you. He’d rather spend tonight with you and his daughter watching whatever you guys put on.

Swashing the drink in hand not having taken a single sip from the moment he arrived, his arms resting against the rail as he overlooked to see everyone enjoying themselves. He let out another heavy sigh just to check his watch again.

“Mr. Park you look tensed” He looked up to see his employee leaning against the rail next to him giving him a sly smile

Being the boss he is, he dropped his sullen face to give a professional smile. “Do I?” He sucked his teeth letting out a quick stifle laugh

She giggled at his remark like it was the funniest thing ever said, “Is it perhaps about your daughter?” She tilted her head and Jay didn’t like the fact she carelessly mentions his daughter

However, giving the benefit of the doubt, he assumes it must be the alcohol in her system noticing the nearly empty glass at hand.

He lets out an awkward laugh and tilts his head to the side giving no response. “Or is there stuff happening at home? Y’know I would love to help out in anyway I can Mr. Park” The employee rubbed her hand up and down his arm slurring her words together

His eyes followed her movements and carefully pulled his arm away checking the time, “Will you look at that I have to get back home to my girls”

“Your girls?” The employee muttered to herself in confusion but she wasn’t able to dwell on it anymore when Jay took away the glass with a small smile

“Don’t drink anymore tonight. Make sure to rest properly and take some medicine in the morning” Jay nodded his head and easily turned his heel walking past the other employees who all wondered where he was going but none dared to ask

It didn’t take long for Jay to get back to his but on the drive home, he was in pure contemplation. His elbow resting on the open window, feeling the night breeze fanning his face as his fingers played with his lips.

He possibly couldn’t. He shouldn’t even be thinking about you in this light and yet every time he sees you, he feels like he’s experiencing his first crush all over again.

Jay rushed out of his car once he parked it. Standing outside his front door, his hand raised to softly knock against it. After a few seconds of waiting which felt like an eternity. The door opened with your soft voice. “Jongseong?”

Right when the door was opened wide enough, Jay stepped in not forgetting to lock the door behind him. He knew his daughter was fast asleep considering the time. It was just you and him.

You stared at Jay confused at the lack of response from him but you gasped when he suddenly grasped your hands, feeling the familiar calloused feel of them scratching your skin.

He looked deeply into your eyes and you nearly felt your heart burst out of your chest. There’s always been an underlying feeling that’s been infiltrating him from the moment he first met you.

A pretty, money struggling woman that he wants as his to bask away into the sunset and take care of forever.

Jay’s hand held your lower back, his other hand holding the middle of your back flushing you against his. You let out a small squeal the moment your bodies clashed. His breath fanned over yours and the very faint smell of the musk cologne caused a shiver to run up your spine.

You’ve never seen him like this. So raw with emotion, yearning eyes, a tug at his lips. “Ja-Jay?- Jongseong?” You stuttered not knowing how to address him in this moment, your heart thumping out of your chest

He drew in closer, his lips closing in on yours, “Call me Jay. Call me Jongseong. You can call me whatever you want”

“Just call out to me” You felt his lips grazing yours before he softly planted them against each other

Your squished hands shivered but they carefully climbed higher until they reached his sharp jaw as you pushed further into his lips. Jay let out a pleased sigh feeling the reciprocation. His hand on your mid back traveled to grasp the back of your head.

His hands turned your body, his body filling in any empty space that dared to be left behind. Your hands squeeze in between under his arms, grasping onto the behind his shoulders in a desperate need.

Your mind was reeling, not a single thought in it besides the dad—The hot dad next door, Park Jongseong.

His tongue gilded against your lip, begging for entrance. You easily allowed him to explore your mouth. His teeth tugging at your bottom lip in a haste making your squeal.

“Going to have to be a quiet doll” However, he wasn’t sure if he could keep up with his own words, Jay felt drunk when he was kissing you

Your lips grew swollen from how long he’s been kissing you but not once did he stop, the lack of oxygen would never stop him from kissing you.

The tips of your fingers dug deeper into his shoulder causing him to let out a loan groan at the feel. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was how badly he wants to make you his.

Jay’s arms loosened around your body enough to make his hands land on your hips to carefully guide your body deeper into his home that now always welcomes you in.

You allowed yourself to melt in his embrace. Every touch felt like fire against your skin, your arms flailed to wrap around his neck making sure not even for a second did his lip ever leave yours. Your teasing fingertips entangled in his hair.

Jay bit your lip to keep himself silent through the dizzy feeling of your tugs. The moment you reached his bedroom, the door closed shut as he quickly pushed you onto his bed, never detaching his mouth from yours.

His body slotted between your legs, as you wrapped around him. Holding him to keep him close—daring for him to get farther than just a few centimeters away only to drag him back in.

The feel of lightheadedness was finally catching up, through the few milliseconds that you both stopped to change positions were you able to properly breathe but it was taken away when Jay crashed his lips back onto yours.

The same repeated motions felt like an eternity that you never wanted to escape from. Jay’s hands holding your waist tightly while yours traveled playing with the back hairs loving how they run perfectly in between.

Jay’s been kissing you like a starved man who has been deprived of any sense of touch for so long which wasn’t far from the truth. One final tug at your lips before the wave of air filled your lungs through a loud pant.

Gasping for air contrasted the pucker of your lips ushering more kisses. Jay let out a deep chuckle, his thumb rubbing at your sides now planting softer pecks on your lips with a side smile tugging at his lips.

“More” Your voice slurred, “Please”

Your breathless pleas only fueled him further. Who was he to deny your desperate pleas.

“Talk to me. What do you want, doll?” He hummed in the juncture of your neck, his mouth leaving feathering kisses in its wake

The simple nickname leads to the attempt to squish your legs together, forgetting how Jay rested in the middle. He caught your attempt and let out a chuckle.

“You like being called doll or do you like the fact that you’re my doll? Which one is it, mhm?” An unexplainable courage taking over him that he couldn’t remember why he didn’t ask you out from the moment he knew what he wanted

You could feel the smirk radiating off of him and you rolled your eyes which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He sucked in his teeth, his hand grabbing your chin with force to make you look at him.

“Now don’t be a brat” He tooted before letting out a smirk, “Use your big girl words, which is it?”

Already have succumbed to him and his words from the moment you saw him standing at your front door. “Your doll” You softly said

Pleased with the words, he let go of your chin to capture your lips with his, the kiss softer than the first one. His hand gilded higher up your side. You moaned in the kiss, happy to feel his lips on yours again.

Your hands wrapped around his neck to keep him in place, “Let me spoil you” He murmured, your lips grew in a smirk which he felt, his hand tightened on your waist as if in a warming

Pulling away with a heavy pant, you looked up to him with curious eyes which captivated him, “I spend a lot of money you know” You snapped your fingers, “Just like that…” Your voice becoming lower than the last

Jay let out a laugh, his head dropping, “Well can you waste my money as quickly as I earn it?” His head raised when he questioned you

You froze at the retaliation. You nervously gulped before letting out a shy smile. You shook your head. Jay hummed in satisfaction at the response before planting kisses at the side of your neck. “Didn’t think so”

Closing your eyes, you lose yourself in the sensation. Your body contorted with each of his feather kisses, you bit your lip loving each second of his mouth on your body.

While they moved lower and lower while his hands managed to slip under your shirt feeling your burning bare skin under his touch. You let out a louder gasp than intended when you felt his hand cup at your breast through your bra.

Your eyes shot open only to see Jay looking up to you with a gleam and smirk written all over his face. His hand dragged from under your shirt to your legs, his fingertips gliding until he reached the waist of your pants.

You let out a shaky breath, his eyes pleading for permission. You slowly nodded your head. “What a good girl” He whispered the praise before dragging your pants down

The air caught in your throat but quickly noticing how he was leaving the sticky undergarment clinging to you, you stopped his hands from moving any further.

Jay immediately stopped and looked at you with worried eyes. He retracted his hands away and began to pull away but right when he was going to speak, you engulfed his hands to bring them back.

Stretching out his fingers, you looped them under to grab everything. Jay froze feeling the fabric of your underwear at his fingertips. He looked away with wide eyes to you but you gave a reassuring smile before allowing yourself to melt back into his bed.

“Don’t be so shy” You whispered loud enough for him to hear, he let out strained chuckle before nodding his head

He pulled down every piece of fabric in one motion. You unconsciously squished your legs together, “It’s okay. You don’t have to do a single thing. I’ll take care of you” He softly reassured as he pried open your knees to expose you to him

You closed your eyes shut while your hands fisted at his sheets. Jay’s eyes zeroed in on the glistening entrance that invited him to devour. Opening his mouth with a big breath, he went in and placed an open mouth kiss on your core.

You squealed and jumped from the contact but Jay hooked his arms under your legs before you could fully pull away from him. He groaned at the taste of your captivating arousal on his taste buds. His tongue glided over your folds lathering and mixing his saliva with your arousal.

“Jong-Jay” You breathlessly let out as one of your hands grabbed a fist full of hair, tugging at it while Jay’s mouth sucked and sucked practically all wetness from you

Jay’s groan vibrated from your core all the way to your head, infiltrating it with ease. No response to your calls of his name as he continued to lap at your pussy. Shivering with each kiss and suck, you let out a loud gasp when you felt the intrusion of his tongue teasing your gaping hole.

Jay immediately pulled away, the string of saliva connecting his mouth to your soaked smeared entrance, you nearly came to the scene.

“Shhh, you have to be quite” He brought a single finger over his mouth, a smirk played on his mouth seeing the fading string on his lips, his finger glided over his swollen mouth

It collected all that was left over and Jay brought the finger into his mouth, tasting the lovely essence of you. He lightly hummed before bringing his finger out and gliding it over your mouth. “Open” The tone stern made you listen without hesitance

Seeing how easily you opened your mouth to welcome the singular finger in without any resistance had his pants grow tighter. Your tongue swirled around his finger, your eyes never letting go with his. He smirked wildly as he pushed his finger further down your throat.

A dark cloud consumed his mind. The rationality he tried to maintain drifted further away. You tried to take as much as you could, feeling how his fingers went further down.

“Looks like you can take stuff well” Jay sneered, a crazed looked in his eyes before you began choking on his finger, feeling the flesh reaching the back of your throat

Pulling his finger away, your mouth closed in on it, letting it out with a pop when his finger left the warmth of your mouth. His finger now covered in your saliva, he admired it.

Looking back at you only to see the wide hopeful eyes you stared at him with a loopy smile. “Beautiful” He whispered softly to himself before lowering his head back down

Expecting or more like anticipating the feel of his mouth again, you let out a louder gasp at the slip of his two fingers into your gaping hole. “Was just calling to be filled. I couldn’t ignore it” Jay muttered breathlessly as your walls clenched around him, “I promised to take care of you, didn’t I?”

“J-Jay” Your hand tried to grappled with his wrist but the drag of fingers near lying slipping out just to slip back him made you stop

Knuckles deep into you, he pulled out again just to shove them back in, repeating the same motion over and over again. The squelch of your arousal and the quiet pants let out, your mind became hazy quickly, “Quiet doll” Jay whispered

Before you could retain a sense of awareness to respond, his mouth attached to your swollen begging bundle of nerves and the first suck made you let out a loud moan.

Your hand flew to cover your mouth and with wide eyes you stared at Jay who froze. The single beautiful noise he heard made him smile against you.

He looked to see you covering your mouth, worried filling your eyes. Your chest rising and dropping. His freehand traveled up to replace your hand with his own. His thumb stroked your cheek, a sharp look in his eyes.

Maintaining a good pace, his fingers pumped into your welcoming entrance, never forgetting to curl and scissor you open. You let your moans fall into his hand, muffled more and more, the more he pressed down harder.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling the flick of his tongue on your clit as if it were the sweetest treat to ever exist. The stimulation made you shake and back arch just for him. Breathing as best as you could through your nose with each calculated and careful rub to the nerves had you fisting fisting at his hair while your legs wrapped around his head latching him onto your pussy.

“So fucking sweet” He murmured to your muffled moans, “Give it to me. Be a good girl” He knew you were on the edge, the pulse of you around his fingers was the near indicator, sucking him more and deeper into you

“Jay” You wail in his mouth before lightly biting on his palm to keep quiet as best as you could, “Ja-Jongseong!” You let out louder when suddenly a gush of release shot out of you as you came over his fingers with a tight clench that forced his fingers out of you

Jay moved his fingers over your folds encouraging more of your juices to be released as he slurped as much out of your leaking entrance as he could, not wanting a single thing to go to waste. His tongue only add more to your sensitivity as you body contorted even after it finally came to a stop, “Helping you out” The kisses were only constant while your whines and heavy pants continued, combining together

He stopped with one final kiss before finally pulling away and releasing your mouth from his hand. Your mind trying to comprehend and come down from the new height of pleasure, you let out a loud relieved sigh with a hidden shudder of satisfaction.

Seeing his smeared cover chin and loopy smile he had on his face made your chest flutter, “You okay there?” Jay lightly chuckled at your weak nod, “Big girl words doll. You know how to use them” Jay rose to hover above you

“Fuck me Jay”

Jay smirked letting out a hiss “Wasted no time and used such nasty words”

“Think you can be quiet for me?” Jay hummed trickled down your mind straight to your pulsating hole waiting to be filled

Nodding your head quickly and covering your mouth with your own hands made Jay’s lips tug to the side in pleasure. Jay fumbled with his belt, his eyes never leaving your lingering one and managed to free himself from the restraints of his pants with a strained sigh.

Your eyes widened zeroing in on the prominent bulge that was daring to burst any second, “Let me help you” He whispered replacing your hand with his

Titling his head to the side admiring the scene beneath him. Sprawled onto his messed up sheets that he’ll have to change after this, a daze filled look in your eye and his hand lightly covering your mouth.

Jay used his freehand as best as he could to free his raging hard-on that’s been deprived for many years. Your eyes watched his every move to see how his cock sprung against his abdomen, having your jaw drop. A very much leaking tip and small twitches at the freedom and something that was big—very big.

He felt the slack of your mouth and chuckled to himself feeling the pride swell his chest. “What’s wrong doll?” He murmured when removing his hand waiting for some type of response

Your mouth opened and closed trying to form some type of articulating thought but nothing came out. “Think you can handle all of it? Can you think of taking me all in here mhmm?” Jay’s hand rubbed over your stomach in a slow manner

“Think you can be a good girl and stay quiet while I fuck you senseless?”

You were able to feel the thumping against your chest that you feared he would be able to hear. You don’t think in your wildest dreams would you be able to take someone like Jay. Yet, now in your wildest reality, you’ll try—well more like you will.

You tugged at Jay’s forearm whilst maintaining eye contact with him. The soft tug at your bottom lip as you threaded his hand to cover your mouth. You nodded your head as your eyes looked at him with greed. “Why don’t you find out?”

To your shock, Jay softly tugged his arm away from your hold. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tapped at your leg, “Turn around”

Seeming getting used to your jaw falling slack, you looked at him in shock but didn’t hear an ounce of sputter in his tone. Not wanting to risk being left all hot and bothered even though you knew Jay wouldn’t dare. You were not testing his patience today.

With a harsh gulp, you flipped your body over. Jay’s hands hovering over your hips before tugging them up before you could fully lay them onto his bed. Your upper body pressed into the mattress, feeling the messed up sheets sticking to the side of your face.

Your hands fisted at the sheets at the new exposure you had for him while your cheeks burned in shyness. He rubbed your hips in awe, pulling one of your cheeks to the side to get a glimpse of the arousal covered crevice. “Is this all for me doll?”

“A-All for you. Just you”

His other hand grabbed the heft into his palm before aligning at your entrance. “Remember to keep quiet” He reminded, “Take a nice big deep breath for me”

You followed his instructions but before you could fully respond you felt the larger intrusion of his tip to your gaping hole making you silently gasp. The stretch compared to nothing you’ve ever felt before and would possibly never.

“Fuck” You breathlessly let out as Jay continued to sink himself deeper

Jay tried his best to not ram himself entirely into the delicious confinement you provided but it called for him—while sucking and welcoming him inside.

“S-shit taking me so good” He muttered as quietly as he could, “Could stay inside you forever”

You felt like you were being split in half just by his cock alone. Your ragged breaths followed after another trying to remember Jay’s advice and not get lost in the sensation.

You peered over your shoulder as best as you could to see how Jay’s looked to where he entered you. The sheer consecration and control made your mind stutter.

Without a warning, in a single thrust, your body jolted forward and you felt full. You gasped loudly, the sheets crumbling more under your clamped hands and body. Your lip shivered as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.

“J-Jay” Your voice cracked trying to get adjusted to your walls being so stretched out by him

“It’s okay, I got you” His reassurance filled your chest with warmth, taking a few breaths to regulate your body, you weakly nodded your head as you dug your head into the mattress to muffle yourself, “So good for me” He uttered softly tracing your back

Moving his hips once, he quickly got lost in the sense of you wrapped around him. His thrust left you nearly empty only to be filled the next second. Each precise move was calculated to each maximum pleasure possible for you. Nearly able to feel his tip already hitting deep to your g-spot, poking to your insides in a teasing manner.

Your muffled moans fueled Jay further to the edge. He gripped at your hips, his slow pace now picking up only slightly. You were taking all of him and he never felt prouder. “Taking me like such a good girl, so damn proud of you”

Feeling like your head was submerged in water, you relished in his praise. The senses that were always on high alert whenever he was around came crumbling down and became filled with him.

“F-for you” You blabbed against the sheets and Jay managed to hear it making him tap at your lower back as he carefully placed his body onto of yours to melt as one

Each thrust led you further into the mattress, your mouth opened leaving small moans in its wake, leaving your mind blank to only focus on the fulfillment you had inside.

Turning your head to the side, you let out whined filled pants. “Take it doll- Not a fucking sound” Jay grunted darkly into your ear

Your mind tried to recall the words just said to you. But deeper and stronger was the desire to let Jay know how he was making you feel. Feeling you clamp around him harder and the silent pants soon became quiet moans.

“T-Too good. ‘m sorry” You mewled as he continued to thrust into you, “So good, can-can’t help it” Your body meshed as he continued

You took a loud deep breath while a whine rumbled out of your chest when he suddenly stopped his thrust, “As much as I would love to hear you” Jay’s sudden harsh thrust caught you off guard with a yelp, “You need to be quiet” Each word followed by another harsh thrust that touched nearly every thing imaginable inside of you

Your broken wails were muffled by the bedding once again. Seeing the recoil of when he and you meet only fueled a carnal desire in him more. “Gonna breed your sweet pussy doll”

“You’ll be so full of me…Will you like that?” Jay grunts having the calculated thrust embodied your mind and body just for him

His words added to the fire that was consuming your body whole. You nodded your head roughly. “Remember what I said. Big girl words” Jay’s voice lulled into your ear, “Want me to fill you up that’ll you feel it inside of you? Until it’s moving around in you with each step you take?”

The obscene noises only grew louder against his bed as you tried to form a proper sentence to please Jay. “Y-yes” You pleaded as best as you could, “Please Ja-Jay”

“Whatever you ask for doll” Jay snapped his hips harsher, as you clawed at the sheets for support, “Taking me so fucking good- Bet you’ll take everything I give you”

You weakly nodded your head, “Will- F-For you” You murmured

His thrust grew frantic and irregular, his constant grunts filled your ears. The more you clamped around him, not daring to let him go of the welcoming embrace you had around him drew him nearer his organsm.

“Doin’ so good for me” His hand held onto your body when he felt you tightened as you let out the loudest moan of the night as you came all over his cock

Your body shivered as you entered a state of pure bliss. “Take it- Just a little more for me- C’mon doll” His praises slipped passed your gaze and deep into your heart making the clench you had on Jay limit his range of motion but it was enough to have him snap and paint your pink velvet walls white of him.

A low groan slipped his mouth as he halted his thrust to properly fill you to the brim just like how he promised. He watched how you pulsed around him but none of the cum dared to fall out as you took everything he split into you.

Jay’s chest rose up and down, softly pulling out his semi hard cock out of you hearing the small hiss you let out at the sudden emptiness. Your body laid face first on his bed, your body rising and falling with each heavy pant. He smiled softly as he helped you turn your body around to face him.

There he realized his biggest mistake as he saw you masked in an afterglow. Your mouth was slack slightly opened, quiet whines fell out every now and then, your half lidded eyes staring up at him.

His eyes traveled to where he once was inside of you to see the few clumps of cum that spilled out. He cooed before quickly scooping whatever he could to sleek it over your folds before pushing it back in where he left it.

You whined loudly and slightly jolted at your sensitivity being tested when his fingers entered you again. “You did so good for me- Such a good girl for me fuck… I’m so proud of you” Jay planted a messy peck against your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up” He whispered

As he was going to remove his fingers out of you, you consciously tightened around them. You lazily shook your head unable to articulate proper sentences that wouldn’t lead you back on his cock again which ultimately failed, “Want your cock” You slurred catching Jay off guard as he let out a strained cough

“Wha-What was that doll?”

“I want your cock again sir”

Like a switch went off in his head. Jay’s demeanor changed. Never knowing the single usage of sir could alter his mind forever. Instantly needing to give you more—more than anything you could ever ask for, wanting to spoil you rotten until you grow sick and tired of him.

He needs to fill you up until you possibly couldn’t hold any more of his cum in you. Softly prying your legs open, he aligned himself at your entrance again gaining your attention at how he easily complied to your request. “No need to ask me twice doll”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The faint bristle of wind coming in through the slightly ajared window, the direct sunlight shining through caused Jay’s face to flinch before groggily opening his eyes with a low groan.

Normally, his daughter jumps on his bed to wake him from dreamless sleep during the weekends. Yet, it was different this time. He managed to wake up on his own to no ruckus but instead a peaceful morning.

Attempting to stretch out his limbs to release some of the tension and drowsiness from it, he stops when he hears the muffled grumbles and faint sound of crinkling sheets. Tilting his head to the side, there he saw you and his daughter basked in the sunlight right next to him.

His daughter coddled in between while you laid against his numb arm, both sound asleep. He fondly smiled to himself before placing soft kisses on each of your foreheads, careful to not stir either of you awake. This was all he could have ever dreamed of.

“My beautiful girls”

——

[yeyinde]

(sighs dreamily) i loooove the way you write fucked up and gross simon. the size kink and somno drabbles have been living rent free in my mind for almost two weeks now. the recent stalker piece was also so deliciously terrifying, i actually had a dream/nightmare today that was a mixture of stalker!ghost and not-dog!soap 😭

are you planning on writing any more for either of those?

ahhh thank you!!!! this had me wondering how i could maybe blend the two and this happened.

stalking. HEAVILY implied noncon somno. size difference.

Simon decides your dog, your baby, needs a man in the house. and since you like to call yourself his 'mama,’ then it’s only right that he becomes the daddy both of you need.

Your dog does not like strangers.

He's a rescue and the sort of life he lived until now, until you, is mostly a mystery. You found him on a rainy day, panting under your awning - a gnarled mess of matted fur glued to bone. Too skinny to survive another winter. You took him in right away and gained his trust. His love. But whatever he had left to spare (lots, it seems) is strictly reserved for you. Everyone else is a threat, a worry. Even the vets he's known since you found him all those years ago still get the same wary glances, the same growls then they lean in too close to whisper something in your ear.

He's just—special. The sweetest thing ever when it's just you. Your baby. People joke—slightly nervous—that he treats you like his mother. Following you closely with his big, glossy eyes tilted up to stare at you. Loving. Cuddly. Rests his big head on your lap at night with a great, big sigh. Tired from a long, hard day of protecting his house from squirrels and the stray delivery driver.

But when it comes to others—anyone, really—he’s aggressive. Territorial. All the vets and trainers say that it's his breed. That he just needs to be trained. Exposure therapy. Behavioural. And it works for all of two weeks before he's back to his stubborn self. Snapping at anyone who gets too close to you.

You post warnings on your fence. Your front door. Take precautions when you walk him. Warn anyone who gets close that he doesn't like anyone. Full stop. No exceptions. And it works. Helps ease the stress. He still goes to therapy. To training lessons. But he's smart enough to trick them into thinking he's learning.

And it's fine. People can't get too close to you. To his house. His territory.

Or so you thought.

But he's been acting strange lately.

You caught him barking at something through the fence a few months ago; spittle flying from his muzzle as his lips peeled back, snarling and vicious. If the fence wasn't reinforced, you think he would have broken it down to get at whatever was behind it.

It continued like this for a few days. Each time you went to check and see what was there, all you find is littered cigarettes. The teenage son of your neighbour, you think. He likes to hide in the dense woods so his parents can't find him. You'll talk to him about it later. Ask if he can do it a little further away from the fence so he isn’t disturbing Baby. 

As the days grow, his growls and snarls diminish before stopping outright. In the interim, your unease grows.

It's small—at first. 

He wants to be outside more. Always whining at the back door, scratching at it with his paw. When you let him out, he runs right to that spot by the fence. Sits down, and just stares. When you go out to look, there's nothing there. Just a dark, sprawling coppice. Cigarettes on the ground. But something catches his attention. Keeps it. Holds it.

He leads you to that spot sometimes, too. Nudges you with his big, furry head to your thighs. Shepherding you to the fence, and then sits back, clearly preening. Proud.

"You're mama’s silly boy, aren't you?" you coo, scratching his ears. It must be the neighbour. Maybe a stray deer wandered by. You catch a flash through the tree line. Twin puddles of black peering through the tangled weeds. Your dog perks up, looking towards it. A deer, you think. A stray buck. You huff, patting his head. "Made a new friend, huh?"

But you can't shake the feeling that something else is out there. That something is staring at you.

Nothing, you tell yourself, fighting off a shiver. It's fine. Fine. He sneaks off at night sometimes. You hear him playing in the hallway. Wandering around the house. The tack-tack-tack of his nails against the hardwood as he walks back to your bedroom lulls you back to sleep. You feel the bed dip. Something warm against your back. You sigh, melting into the sheets—

There's nothing to worry about.

He'll protect you.

But the next morning, you find him locked outside. The patio door shut. The deck is dried from the sun, but his fur is wet. It rained last night. You drifted in and out to the patter of it on your window. The soothing weight of his body curling around you—

He must have gotten out in the morning. Rolled around in the grass. But when you put him in the tub later to scrub the rainwater off of his cost, his belly is dry.

It's nothing. He was in bed with you last night. It's fine. Fine. Everything is easy to explain away as coincidence. Nothing usual. The feeling of being watched. The missing food from your fridge. The creaks of the old house at night. Things shifting around—keys missing only to turn up somewhere else. Rodents chewing through your landline. 

The panties you shed, tossing into a corner before getting into the shower going missing—

They’re just—lost in the wash. You must have thrown the leftover food away when you cleaned earlier and forgot. The lingering scent of cigarettes. Smoke in your bed. The cloying scent of loam, humus. Fresh dirt. The stains on your bed. The strange smear in the gusset of your panties when you peel them apart.

Something thick, firm between your thighs—

Fine. You tell yourself. Everything is fine. At best, it's a gas leak. At worst—well.

Baby will protect you. 

Always. 

But the next day, he brings his favourite toy to the back door, asking to be let out, and this isn't—

It's not normal.

He's possessive over his toys. Keeps them on his daybed and refuses to let anyone touch them. Only you. He doesn't bring the. Outside, either.

But when you peer outside a few minutes later, the toy is lying by that spot near the fence. He's sitting down, tail wagging. Happy. Excited. It continues like this for the next few days. He brings his toys to the fence, coming in later, licking his lips. When you brush his teeth at night, you smell something gamey on his breath. Meaty. 

Getting out of bed a few hours later and playing in the hallway. Going to sleep with you at night, but somehow getting out in the early hours of the morning, waiting for you on the patio when you remember the huff of his breath over your neck less than an hour ago—

No. You're just—

Getting the time wrong. It's fine. He'll protect you. He doesn't like anyone but you.

You hear footsteps in the hallway at night next to the click-clack of his nails. When you jump out of bed to check, it's just him. Sitting by the back door, head craned over his shoulder when he heard you coming. His favourite toy is sitting on the ground in front of him. You fight a shiver. The feeling of eyes burning into you churns your stomach.

"I'm going crazy, sweetheart," you coo, but feel the threads of your sanity begin to snap one by one. "But you'll keep me safe, right?"

His tail wags. You pretend not to notice the gap in the patio door. Opened just a crack. You shut it, forcibly telling yourself to remember to close it next time and fight the memories of locking it before settling on the couch to watch old re-runs. You drag him back to bed, burrowing your head into his fur, listening to the thud-thud-thud of his heart in your ear. 

When you dream that night, it's of a big, scarred hand making its way between your thighs. A rasping, masculine voice in your ear commanding you to be good—

You wake up with your thighs sticky, wet. Your cunt pulsing. There's an ache there; a sting. It twinges when you move, tapering into a sore throb as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, woken up by the strange dream—fingers between your thighs, a head resting on your belly, calling you a good girl—and a noise.

A low murmur comes from the living room. You wince with the first several steps, forcing yourself to ignore the uncomfortable feeling between your thighs. The wetness that drips down your leg, some of it already dried, sticking to your skin. It’s fine. You just had a—

A wet dream.

—everything is fine. Fine. Your heart lurches. Lodges in your throat. Each beat feels like a fist against your tissue trying to break down the prison of your flesh to flee. 

You slowly inch toward the hallway, the sound, making excuses for the fear that curdles in your belly. The itch in the back of your head that calls you stupid. Demands you go back to bed. To sleep. You’ll wake up in the morning to Baby slobbering over your chest, drooling as the time ticks away in a slow crawl towards his usual breakfast. 

It’s tempting. The sleep congealing in the corners of your eyes, weighing heavy—molasses-thick—over your sense of awareness: cobwebbed in that strange, uncanny realm of sleep and wakefulness; hypnagogia turning shadows on the walls into human shapes. The whisper of wind into the brassy drawl of a voice. 

Through it all, the prickle rears. Says something isn't right. Hasn't been right for a while now. It's fine. Everything is—

It doesn't make sense at first. Your brain tries to wrap around the images your eyes feed it. Untangling the dizzying sense of confusion that runs along your hindbrain like a jagged knife; grazing tissue, scraping over nerves. The picture comes together quickly. There's no misinterpreting the shapes.

A man is lounging on your couch. Legs kicked up on the coffee table, ankles crossed. The remote is held in one hand as he lazily flicks through the channels on your television screen. The picture of ease. So relaxed, so comfortable in your space, that you begin to feel a little bit like an intruder. A voyeur peering between the curtains.

This feeling is reinforced when you peel your eyes away from the horrifying mask on the man's face—a black balaclava—and find your dog lounging beside him. Resting with his head over this stranger's thick thighs. His head perks up when you approach, tail wagging, but he doesn't get up from his spot. Content to bask in the half-hearted attention the man doles, a hand buried in his fur. Dragging over his ears. Down his back. Monotonous flicks of his thick wrist, nearly the same width as the barrel of a baseball bat.

And that just trembles down your spine in the worst way.

He's the same height as you are sitting down. Takes up two cushions on the couch with his absurd bulk. Massive, you think. And then it all rushes through you. The knife slips into your cognisance.

There's a man in your house. Petting your dog,

your dog who tries to bite the same vet he's had for years. Who trusts, who likes, no one but you—

You make a noise. Something strangled in the back of your throat. Muffed, unable to escape through the clot of your heart getting there first. It tangles around your pericardium and is too late to take back. To swallow down. 

It doesn’t matter, though. 

The man has been watching from the beginning. 

Dark eyes (a dark, black flash between the leaves—) drill into you. Staring. That familiar, unease feeling is back again, creeping up your spine. It's been him the whole time, you know. The thing behind the fence. Must be. The same brand of cigarettes you found on the opposite side is sitting on your coffee table, right beside his feet.

His chest expands with his inhale. You smell stale smoke. Something wild. The scent of the forest after a summer's rain shower.

"Finally up, are you? Thought you were gonna sleep all day." His voice is deep. Brassy. The growling roll of an approaching thundercloud. You shiver. Jerk back, but—

Baby growls.

He's never done that before. Never barked. Never snarled. Never nipped.

But right now, his teeth peel back, muzzle wrinkling as he lifts his lips. And you know it's playful. Seen this look on his face when you throw the ball across the yard. It's just him being his silly self. He won't attack you. Won't maul you. 

The man lifts his hand and your dog limbers up. Shakes. He jumps off the couch and trots toward you. Nothing is threatening in the way he moves. It's the same lumbering gait, the same happy wag to his tail, but he moves himself around you. Stands between you and the only escape.

"Baby—?"

"Taught 'im a few tricks," the man drawls conversationally—like he wasn't a stranger in your house. "Got a good boy on your 'ands. Jus' needed a bit o'trainin'—”

He snaps his fingers and Baby moves. Bumps his head into the back of your thighs. Pushing you. Nudging you toward the man. It’s so horrifying familiar that you find yourself moving without a thought. Following along. 

"He jus' needed a man in the house, didn't he? A father figure—" 

You're going to be sick. Think you would have been already if your heart wasn't lodged tight in your throat, keeping everything down. 

The man lifts his hand. Curls his fingers. 

"C'mon, mommy," he taunts, voice a derisive roll. "Come sit on Daddy's lap. It's movie night tonight."

Baby pushes you forward happily, tail wagging, wagging—

Happier than you’ve ever seen him as this stranger reaches out, grabbing your waist and hauling you onto his lap. You think about fighting immediately, struggling to get out of his hold, but he moves back and the unmistakable, blunt press of a gun sends shivers rolling down your spine. You still instantly. Back drawing tight. Fear is a wet, hot pulse behind your ribs. 

“Don’t fight it, birdie—” You feel the warm, damp press of his mask against the shell of your ear. The ridges of his lips move beneath the fabric as he speaks. 

You hear him inhale, drawing in the scent of your shampoo—your fear: an oily thick miasma pooling behind your ears, against your nape—and feel tears pool against your lashline when a surge of familiarity wells up at the solid, firm weight of his chest against your spine. His thigh slips between yours, spreading them wide over the arch of his muscle. Limp, dizzy, you fall back into his chest when he pulls you in, slotting a burly arm over your ribcage. Locked in tight. A shackle. 

“Ain’t go’ nothin’ t’worry about,” he continues, hips shifting. Moving. And—

It’s a not gun. You know it isn’t. When you whimper, it throbs—

There’s the echo of a groan in his voice when he huffs, lips pursing into a kiss. “Nothin’ at all. C’mon, Baby—” 

And Baby obeys eagerly, jumping up on the couch beside him. His snout is warm, wet, when he presses it to your arm, sniffing. Please, you think, staring into his eyes as tears swell, pooling down your cheeks. Please—

But the man lifts his arm, and Baby circles the cushion before falling against his side with a deep, content sigh. Hope is snuffed out of your chest in an instant. The man’s hand falls to his head, rubbing his skull affectionately. 

“Good boy.” Baby perks. His happiness is a palpable thing that swells around you as he melts, eyes slipping closed. “Gonna be a good boy while mum an’ dad spend some time together, ain't you, boy?”

His arm tightens around your waist. Chin notches over your shoulder as he shifts back, legs kicking out to spread your thighs further apart.

"Now," he drawls, hand sliding down to the mess between your thighs. You shiver against him, toying with the idea of running, fleeing—but he must know. Senses it, maybe. He lifts his hips, pressing the gun into your spine. A threat. A warning. But with the way he swallows you up—broad chest closing in on you, trapping you on all sides—you know it's futile.

He has you.

Your submission makes him purr.

"Baby's sleepin', so now let daddy take care'o mommy—"

[jerryseinfeldisafurry]

I have to speak my peace about Captain Curly

Warning: mouthwashing spoilers

So, I’ve noticed a lot of people saying the same points that are essentially: “Oh Curly is a piece of shit because he just let his buddy get away with assaulting Anya”

And I am here to argue against this point. So at no point does Curly deny, or tell Anya that what she went through never happened, or anything like that. Usually, when somebody “supports their friend” after said friend commits assault, they will react with disbelief, or just general distrust for the person accusing their friend. I feel like the fact that Anya continuously makes small references to the assault situation around Curly, and the fact she talks and is alone with Captain Curly so often, are indicators that she has not been met with disbelief or distrust on his end.

When a victim receives a bad reaction to telling somebody about their assault, they usually do not bring it up or talk about it with that person after that. They also would not have the same dynamic, the same relaxed mannerisms that Anya has with Curly.

Now, onto the point where people accuse Curly of enabling Jimmy, I also don’t think that’s true. They are stuck on a relatively small ship, with no way out for over a year. They can’t risk hurting or punishing Jimmy, because Curly of all people will know how reactionary and violent Jimmy can be. They can’t kill him, because that’s illegal, and Curly is unfortunately responsible for Jimmy considering he is the Captain of the ship. Aside from the fact that, with the way Pony Express is shown to treat the crew, if they harmed or killed one of their own crew members it’s entirely possible that they would not get paid at all, and all the work and time and energy (and suffering, on Anya’s part) would literally be for nothing. Then they also get tried for murder, and they would have to prove that Jimmy did something wrong, they would have to prove that Jimmy assaulted Anya. After half a year of him being dead, with no physical evidence to prove what he did except a pregnancy that they can’t prove was forced upon her.

Curly is not enabling his friend, and trying to sweep the situation under the rug, he is literally constantly trying to deescalate the situation. Curly doesn’t act like he’s just trying to make the situation disappear. When Anya expresses that she’s uncomfortable, she doesn’t even say out right that she doesn’t want to do his evaluation. Yet Curly decides to volunteer despite not really having the experience, and it also not being in his job description. After Anya tells Jimmy she’s pregnant, and she’s scared for her life, Curly goes to try and talk to Jimmy. He tries to get Jimmy to calm down, and to think rationally, he tries to keep Jimmy from acting out. and then Jimmy goes and crashes the entire fucking ship into an asteroid. Even if they wanted to imprison him, there was nowhere to put him. The only places that had locks were the cockpit and medical. We saw what happened when he was in the cock pit alone, and the last place he needs to be is the one place that Anya can really call her own.

When Curly says he’ll talk to Jimmy, that’s not him belittling the situation. He needs to stay calm and reassure Anya that he’s trying to help her. If Curly was immediately like “I’m gonna go kick his ass” or if he insisted on some sort of retaliation against Jimmy, then that would just stress Anya out more. There is no way to keep eyes on Jimmy at all times, and if he faces any punishment over Anya then she knows he will find a way to punish her for it. Aside from the fact that, I think Curly may have done whatever she asked, especially with the way he emphasized he’d do “anything” to help her when she first tells him that she’s pregnant. He informs her that he truly cares about her, her wellbeing is his responsibility.

Anya also seems to be way too forgiving for her own good. Even when she thought Curly tried to kill all of them, all she had to say was that she couldn’t believe that a person’s worst moments make them a monster. If she was willing to forgive what she thought was attempted murder, I’m sure she came up with every excuse in the book for Jimmy. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m not saying she deserved it. She didn’t. What she went through was fucking awful and horrific. But it’s in her nature to forgive people, even when they really don’t fucking deserve it. We don’t even know if she knew she was assaulted the whole time, since there’s a good chance that Jimmy manipulated her into thinking she deserved it/wanted it. It may be possible that she thought she deserved it, and was too ashamed to speak about it openly for a while, with only the feelings of disgust and shame to accompany her.

Let’s also take into consideration that Anya was not the only person Jimmy was abusive to. We saw the way he talked to Curly, especially at the birthday celebration. Jimmy was an abusive dickhead to everyone. The last time Curly tried deescalating the situation before the crash, Jimmy immediately started taking the stuff Curly told him in confidence and using it against him, to make Curly just as miserable as he was. Jimmy turned his own suffering into shared suffering because then he could tell himself that he wasn’t just trying to get away from his own actions, he was trying to HELP his friend, who was also suffering.

My point is, I think too many people are not thinking deeply enough about Curly, as well as the context on the entire situation. They are putting blame on him when he is also a victim of Jimmy. It was literally just an overall shitty situation

[buckets-and-trees]

Prepare For Takeoff

Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 1.5k

Content Warnings: vaginal fingering, dubious existing engagement

Logistical Notes: Another piece early in the days of the I'm Your Man AU.

Author Note: I started this AU when I was at an airport, and my recent trip had me thinking of these two again, and it had me wishing I were Andy's to spoil.

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While you aren’t used to being chauffeured to every aspect of your life (nor did you want to get used to it, the driver and vehicle yet another element that Andy insisted on in the new life he inserted you into), you know a security checkpoint where your driver had to stop and speak to someone else is not part of the typical route back to the palatial Barber Estate. You sit up straighter in your seat, looking first to the men in the front, but neither of them give anything away, your bodyguard Shep’s face is the same stoic expression as ever, and your driver Mark only glances into the rear view mirror to meet your eyes briefly.

Your brows furrow and you look out the window. You can only see large white buildings on either side of the SUV, and the overwhelmingly industrial feel has you at a loss for guessing the where and why of your location.

That is until you reach the end of the building and the car pulls around the corner. Now you see these large white industrial walls make up the sides of a row of aircraft hangars. While your jaw doesn’t drop, your mouth opens slightly. The jaw dropping moments as a character in the life of Andy Barber are so frequent, but you are starting to control your reactions a bit more.

The SUV pulls up smoothly to the side of a private jet, sleek and black, the late afternoon sun shining off its metal sides. Mark stops the vehicle, and as Shep opens your door, you are not surprised to see you are stepping out exactly onto a long, blue carpet that leads from the SUV to the bottom of a set of white stairs. At the top of them, Andy emerges from the plane, nodding to you. You smooth down the front of your clothing and glare up at him.

“What is this?” You call up loudly.

“You know what it is.”

“Where are we going?”

“Away for the weekend. Now, don’t be difficult, sweetheart, you’re going to love this.”

You feel a sting in your eyes but quickly blink it away.

You hate this because you know he is right.

Yet again he will undoubtedly give you exactly what you want and go beyond what you could even imagine for it, but because he wants to, not because you want any of it.

That is the constant curse in this relationship.

Everything you want, but all your choices stolen from you before you can make them.

You concentrate on taking deep breaths as you ascend the staircase, mustering the strength that you will need for this. You have to armor yourself against his charm and his cunning. Every moment with him is dangerous.

“I thought it was time to take you away, make you forget the everyday. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress.”

You blink, open your mouth, then shut it again. He is the source of the stress, but you don’t trust what would happen if you said that.

He smirks, then sweeps you into a kiss that immediately sends tingles all through your body, from where his lips press insistently against yours, tongue teasing into your mouth, to the hand he plants possessively onto you hip and the other on your back, pressing you flush against him, down to your toes, legs feeling unstable as he takes your breath away. You are helpless but to cling to his shoulders and kiss him back, because your traitorous body willingly surrenders to him, damn near craves him.

He finally lets you breathe again when you tap against his chest and turn your head, gasping for air.

He kisses your cheek, then your neck just beneath your ear.

Getting your breath back, you give a small huff. “So, what? I don’t even get to pack? You just have whatever I need for the flight and when we get wherever we’re going, I’ll just arrive to a closet full of new clothes and accessories?”

“Naturally.” You can feel his smirk against your skin for a moment before he bites at your delicate flesh.

“This is insane.” You push away from him and step through the open door of the jet.

“It’s not insane,” he says, stalking close behind you.

The interior of the plane is sleek, minimal, but the flavor of the furniture and decor evoke the same feeling as the common spaces of his estate with lush leather and dark wood.

The fact that there’s furniture…

“It’s not normal.”

Hand to your back, Andy ushers you further into the plane. “You’re never going to be subjected to normal again in your life.”

“But what if I liked normal?”

He sits on a leather loveseat and pulls you down immediately next to him, nearly in his lap. He counters, “You liked needing to get to the airport early, check your bags or haul them through security with your three-ounces-or-less limit on liquids, take off your shoes, and trek through the terminals to your gate?”

You sigh and look straight ahead.

He chuckles and beckons over a gentleman who offers a tray of drinks.

“Bourbon or champagne?”

“Thank you,” Andy says, and takes a glass of the dark bourbon.

“No, thank you,” you decline.

“The captain says we are clear for take off on your word, Mr. Barber.”

Andy nods. “Wheels up then. We’ll take dinner in ninety minutes. You can leave us until that point.”

“Call if you need anything, sir.”

You hear the click of a door as the man disappears. Andy takes a slow drink, then presses the glass to your lips, forcing you to take a sip before he sets the glass aside.

You feel the jet begin to move and then turn toward the runway.

“You deserve more than normal,” Andy says, eyes on you, returning to your conversation from moments before.

“Andy…” you hedge.

“I will whisk you away anywhere in the world. I’ll give you everything you want. You’re mine to spoil. You’re going to live a beautiful life with me.”

“Andy,” you start again, but unsure how to counter.

He growls your name and yanks you abruptly into his lap. He cuts any argument you were about to launch into by biting at your lower lip and grinding you down onto his hard bulge.

You whimper and throw your head back.

Andy assaults your bared neck with heated kisses. He knows he’ll have you a pliant mess for him to slake his lust in a matter of moments.

You know it, too.

And you know he’ll overwhelm you with pleasure of your own, never a selfish lover even though every other bit of him is selfish.

His fingers slip under the fabric covering your core without hesitation, and he strokes your labia, gathering more and more of your arousal as the plane picks up speed. Slow strokes back and forth, back and forth. The pad of his forefinger circles your clit and you bite back a whimper.

“Mmm, you know I love those noises you make.” He circles your bundle of nerves again, this time with his thumb, letting two of his fingers dip just slightly into your slick channel. “Give me what I want,” he coos, coaxing with another circle, and another, and you finally break, moaning openly for him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, let me know how good I make you feel.”

He pumps his fingers full into the knuckle now, and not like anyone else you’d ever been with intimately before. It’s only been a few weeks, but Andy has taken every opportunity to become a master of your body and coax and command pleasure out of every inch of you. He knows just how much pressure to apply when fucking you with his fingers, and he pushes into that spongy spot at the front of you walls insistently, repeatedly as the jet leaves the ground, making you cry out and shake on an abrupt orgasm.

You sink forward, hanging your head on his shoulder, but it’s only the first orgasm he plans to ply from your body on this flight. He draws your left hand to his mouth, and hums as he places a kiss first against the band of your engagement ring on your finger and then into your palm, before trailing his lips to your wrist. He eases you down to the floor, and you lay back and watch as he shucks off his pants above you before descending down to sheath himself inside you next, demanding more.

And as he fucks you there, then on another of the chairs, then takes you back to the sleeping quarters for yet more, you bend to his will and his demands and his lust, overcome with everything he is and everything he makes you feel, lost in the complexity of what he’s confined you into. His spoiled and ruined sweetheart.

go to the next part: DON'T LOOK TOO FAR I'm Your Man Collection Masterlist

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[veraghost]

𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙄 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝙊𝙉 𝙔𝘼 ! - 𝙅𝙐𝙅𝙐𝙏𝙎𝙐 𝙆𝘼𝙄𝙎𝙀𝙉

an upcoming exam can be stressful, especially when you have a hard time with memorization. lucky for you, your boyfriend seems to have a solution.

𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂: camboy!choso x innocent gf!reader

𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂!! 𝙈𝘿𝙉𝙄: fem!reader, established relationship, piercings, choking, overstimulation, detailed body descriptions, dirty talk, pet names, recording

𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏: 3.5k

a/n: installation one of my first series, loosely based (aka one lyric) off of this song by Ariana Grande. i wrote this after a 7 hour shift + a nap, so i apologized if i missed anything proofreading, happy reading xoxo, lex

SERIES MASTERLIST

𝙇𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙊𝙉-𝙊𝙉𝙀.𝙈𝙋4

there are often times at university when you have questioned why you chose to become a nurse, especially when it comes to studying for biology exams. in the past, you've found ways to memorize the majority of what's given to you, walking into each assessment prepped and prepared, knowing you've done your best and you'll most likely receive an amazing grade. however, as you walk into your apartment, you don't even know where to begin. biology was never your strong suit, especially when it came to navigating people's bodies, finding small veins and understanding certain placements. the silver lining of your current situation, you had just under a month to prepare before the exam day, which meant time to create study sheets and cue cards to practice with.

as you set your bags down on the kitchen island with a deep sigh, you begin to piece together everything you need to do, the list slowly piling up in your head. "everything okay?" your boyfriend asks you, walking into the kitchen. you assume he was filming content in his room while you were gone to class, seeing as though he walks out of the bedroom in nothing but sweats, and judging by the look of it, his fans will be happy with what he's recorded. "yeah, no, i don't know choso, i forgot how killer biology was" you respond, utterly confused on how you should feel. sitting down on the barstools surrounding the table, head in your hands, you grab your ipad from your bag and begin writing your to-do list.

the list is extensive and almost all-consuming, as you take in everything. leaning over your frame, choso is reading the list, eyes trailing down the screen, brows slowly rising as he realizes just how much you have to deal with. "damn, that's... a lot", he says, looking down softly at you, "what do you think you're gonna start with?". you debate in your head, genuinely wondering what to do. "probably start with the bigger stuff, that seems smart right? begin with broad topics and slowly get more specific as i understand the content." you decide, finding a starting point to your dilemma. choso hands you a plate with apple slices, yogurt and granola, with a simple smile, before settling himself on the couch a few feet away from you.

"so, what're you starting with then? i mean there's a bunch of large topics, might as well pick one and start as soon as possible" you hear him say, taking a bite out of his own food. glancing at you hunched over the island. "probably mapping the body for veins, where's safe to place needles is iv's," you say, tracing your own arms as you speak, "and then i'll move onto bodily reactions to certain things, mostly if the body rejects a needle or medication, and how it'll affect the patient."

placing your plate in the sink, satiated for now, you saunter over to the couch, sitting in the spot next to choso. "were you filming while i was gone?" you ask, eyeing him up and down before he nods. "at least i was trying to, i have no ideas and don't wanna just show me jerking off and that's it you know, i got popular for doing more than that, but i'm running out of ideas." he replies, looking just as defeated as you did a second ago. it's understandable tho, he's been at it nonstop for months, and the fruits of his labour have been nothing but rich, being able to pay for rent while also saving for his own degree.

the room falls silent for awhile, a comfortable silence as you begin to trace your arms, struggling to find your own veins. choso is watching you, following your finger up and down your arms. you catch notice of this, and also of how pale your boyfriend is, an idea popping into your head.

"choso... could i use you to study?" you ask him, innocent eyes looking into his. "i mean, look at your arms, i can see almost every vein without having to even squint, your the perfect candidate to help me ace this exam" you continue, basically pleading with him to agree. you can tell he's debating in, listing the pros and cons in his head. you know he doesn't like physical affection much, especially when dealing with his own assignments, but he'd be doing you such a big favour. he shrugs before putting his plate on the coffee table next to him, before pulling you onto his lap.

"i'm assuming this is a yes, baby?" you say, shifting a bit in his lap to get comfortable. a light sigh is heard from your boyfriend, before he agrees, letting your fingers go up and down his arms. you move the short sleeves of his t-shirt exposing his shoulders to you, letting you see more of him. "can you take this off, it keeps falling back off your shoulder, plus then i can use my supplies to make little marks to show where i could put needles and everything into a patient" you say, slightly tugging at the bottom of his shirt, before he pulls it off completely.

fuck, you thought, forgetting just how strong your boyfriend was. although he doesn't look it choso was built. big arms that help you carry groceries into the apartment, big shoulders hiding under every shirt he owns, and a perfect set of abs to top everything off. blushing lightly, you thank him quietly before getting up and grabbing your bag, pulling out a handful of markers to begin mapping his body out. choso is sitting there silently, watching you work meticulously. this was one of his favourite parts about you, the way you fall silent in focus, looking so innocent compared to him.

it wasn't that choso was bad per say, he just looked so different from you. other than the size difference between you both, he was also into different things, his arms adorned in tattoos, a tongue piercing hiding in his mouth, and nipple piercings, his smudged eyeliner, his dark, wild hair, normally worn in ponytails or buns, let loose in the comfort of his home. in comparison to you, he looked like someone who belonged elsewhere.

the amount of moving you're doing on his lap, the friction between your bodies, the heat the proximity creates, becomes unbearable. you're so deep in thought, making sure every mark on his body is placed so perfectly, you don't even notice the growing erection in your boyfriends pants until you hear a small groan. looking at him, he grounds his hips into yours, making a red blush appear on your face.

"i'm sorry baby, i know but you're just so pretty on top of me, i couldn't help it." choso says, sounding so honest, as if he wasn't the one who pulled you onto his lap a half hour ago. "please just give me a kiss, i promise i'll let you go back to work afterwards" he says, tilting your chin before leaning in, a small peck on your lips. one turns into two, then three, and before you know it, the marker has fallen into his lap, choso's holding your waist, and there's not a thought in your head.

breaking the contact between your lips with a sigh, you try and find your marker, lifting off choso's lap just enough to hunt for it. looking around frantically, you feel a pulse between your legs, then another, and another. you realize this feeling isn't going away any time soon, and neither is choso's fully grown erection, still painfully stuck in his sweats. giving up on your hunt, you place all your weight back onto your boyfriend, hearing him suck in a breath.

"baby, remember how you said you needed to study bodily reactions?" he asks you curiously, moving you slightly, hands gently on your helps. you nod silently, knowing if you open your mouth it'll only be moans from how sinful he feels underneath you. "do you think - just maybe - some reactions are like this?" he says, before pushing you further into his lap, letting you feel every inch that's hiding under layers of clothing. you let out a light moan, wanting nothing but more, more of him, more of this.

"i mean probably, right?" you respond, before feeling another grind into your core, riling you up even more. choso smiles, so kindly at you while giving you another drag against his lap. lifting you up, he starts walking you both to the bedroom, placing you down gently on the bed, standing between your legs.

"cho, i..." you start, not knowing how to bring this up to him. even though you and choso have known each other since freshman year of uni, you started dating after becoming roommates. originally, you lived with a few of other friends, before moving in together a handful of months after getting together.

"what baby, if you don't want this we don't have to-"

"i'm a virgin", you tell him hiding your face from his gaze, "actually i haven't done... anything with anyone," you say. god you wanted to die in this moment, basically ruining the entire mood. if only you had kept your mouth shut. choso is silent, making you even more nervous.

"oh baby, why didn't you tell me sooner? we've been dating for months and yet this is the first time you've bothered to say something." he replies after a few beats, grabbing both your cheeks so delicately, wiping the tears that started to well in your eyes from panic. you breathe a sigh of relief, thankful you chose someone so soft and loving. "i didn't want you to look at me differently, i mean, all of our friends have done it, except for me. as much as they love me i know they probably judge me for it, and i didn't want that to be you." you say, tears coming back just as quickly as they were wiped away.

"no, no, sweetheart, never. i chose you as you are, no matter the past, you have or the things that i still don't know, you're my baby." he says, bringing your head to his stomach, your arms wrapping around his waist. you can still feel his erection to your surprise, thinking the moment was over. "i don't mean to ruin this moment, but did you want to..?" he trails off, looking at you with something in his eyes, something dark and almost primal. and truthfully you do, you trust choso so much, he would never hurt you.

"baby i need to hear you say it, i need to know you fully want this" he says, voice sounding so raw, like he's holding himself back from just pouncing on you.

"yes choso, i want to, wanna feel good. but can we go... slow?" you reply, still feeling a bit jittery. it's not that you didn't want to fuck choso, you knew he was good in bed, the hundreds of fans he has on twitter speaks for itself, but this was different, this was personal.

"of course baby, anything for you." and then it's back on like nothing ever happened in the first place, he's leaning over to capture your lips in a kiss, gentle yet consuming, making all thoughts wander out of your head. pushing you further onto the bed, leaning you back against the pillows, his weight a comforting, before something shifts. the kisses become more frantic, and then animalistic, both of you just tongue and teeth, hands roaming everywhere, his hands on your waist, then to your hips before moving to the hem of your shirt, slightly tugging to up.

breaking the kiss, you throw your shirt somewhere on the floor before pulling him back to you, hungry for more of this, more of him. choso is just as hungry as you, grabbing and groping every inch of skin he can get to, before moving his kisses to your jawline and down your neck, kissing every square inch of you. the kisses turn into nips, and then he's sucking a hickey into your neck, one that's sure to come out dark and pretty, adorning your beautiful skin. upon feeling the slight sting, you let out a gasp, learning something new about your body.

"fuck baby, you bruise so easily, so simple to mark you as mine." he mumbles mindlessly, before making a second further down near your collarbone, and another right on top of one of your breasts. he seals each mark with a kiss before sitting up and unbuttoning your jeans, throwing them on the floor to join your shirt. "is this ok? do you wanna stop at all?" he asks, making sure your still set on this.

instead of answering, you grab his face before pulling him down for another kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist, letting him feel the heat thats coming from your core. his hands start to play with your panties, before slowly slipping them off your legs along with your bra.

he sits up, taking in you, completely naked, so fucking pretty.

"hey, don't stare for too long, but thank you, cho" you say, a sheepish smile on your face before your arms start to try and hide yourself from him, getting embarrassed from his stare. "don't you dare hide yourself from me baby, not when i'm gonna make you feel so good." he says, pulling your arms away and pinning them down by your head. he fits both your wrists into one of his hands before lightly tracing your body before reaching your pussy.

"oh baby, look at her, she's basically begging for me to touch her." he says, basically to himself, before putting one finger to your entrance, feeling just how wet and messy you are, hours worth of teasing finally building up to this. "you better pay attention, this is how to body reacts to pleasure", reminding you on what got you into this position, before taking his finger and tracing around your clit, making you gasp. "oh so sensitive, haven't even touched you properly yet" he notes, before finally rubbing your clit, slowly, watching your reaction.

your so quiet, almost shy to show him your pleasure, not wanting to sound slutty. he's treating you so carefully, a drastic change to how he was kissing you just a few minutes ago. he's tracing your entrance again now, gaging how you react to his slow push past the first rings of muscle, and your gasping again, back arching up in pleasure as your eyes close. it doesn't hurt, but feels weird. his middle figure fully sat in you before it pulls back, leaving you empty.

he watches your face, before plunging his finger back in again, eliciting a small moan from your lips, before getting another, and another. you understand now why your friends won't shut up about sex, it feels so different, and yet so fucking good. you can feel something in your stomach, feeling so good and warm, and as choso continues his magic, the feeling slowly builds.

choso isn't even doing that much, he doesn't even say anything, so in awe of your reactions to the simplest ministrations. when you seem comfortable with one, he adds a second, and that's when he sees your body react so wholly, a louder moan coming from you, he speeds up, allowing you to feel everything. and god, you look gorgeous, eyes tightly shut, back slightly arched from the bed, mouth open, moans and sighs of pleasure falling from your lips. his other hand has long since discarded you wrists, allowing you to claw at his shoulders and back as he decides to test the waters a bit more.

he lets his hand wander a bit, not wanting to make his actions to obvious, before speeding up a little more and stopping his hand on your neck, thumb and fingers resting lightly on your pulse points. you don't even notice when he tightens his grip on your neck a bit, so caught up in the pleasure, his thumb finding your clit, and that's when you wake from your trace. eyes opening wide, a loud gasp coming from your mouth.

"feels good, doesn't it baby? didn't even notice me choking your pretty little neck. my pretty girl, so overwhelmed she doesn't even know what to do" he says, a small pout on his face before tightening his grip a bit more.

"feels so g- good, wanna feel like this forever cho, just y- you and me never leaving this room." you moan, dumb off his fingers "can you go even tighter? feels so goooood" eyes rolling into the back of your head when he fulfills your request. he's so focused on you, completely forgetting about his own erection, you just look so angelic. he adds a third finger, noting the little twinge of pain that shows up on your face, keeping his pace nonetheless. the strange sensation thats your stomach becomes so much more prominent, and you can feel yourself losing control.

"awh baby, are you gonna cum? gonna cum all over my fingers like a good girl? yeah c'mon, cum for me, get my fingers all messy" he ebbs you on, watching as pleasure consumes you completely, body spasming and exhaustion paints your face. when you open your eyes, you see choso sitting up between your legs, fingers in his mouth. "you're so sweet baby, it's fucking intoxicating, wanna taste you" he says, licking every inch of his fingers clean.

"can i taste you baby? i'll be extra gentle with how sensitive you must be. came so prettily on my fingers for me" he says, slowly moving his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself slightly on his tongue, before he's trailing his lips down again, taking a your nipple into his mouth. you gasp, body jolting upwards from his piercing, cold on your skin.

his lips trail down, down down, until his head is right between your thighs, looking up at you so innocently, silently asking if he can taste you, and you silently respond.

everything is so much more enhanced, if you weren't sensitive before, you definitely are now. as his tongue circles your clit, piercing creating such a strange sensation, your hands fly straight to his hair, moaning. "oh cho, feels so good, makin' me feel so good fu- fuck!"

you can feel him smile before he takes your clit fully into his mouth, letting a finger circle your entrance yet again. everything is so hazy, your eyes blurry, mind foggy, and yet you wouldn't have it any other way. he's so loud, sucking and licking at you so obscenely making such a fucking mess. he's so obsessed on you and your release, he doesn't even notice his hips rutting into the bed beneath him, solely focused on making you cum on his tongue.

it takes you a fraction of the time to cum again, and has he tastes you fully for the first time, he moans, groaning when your release coats his tongue, and it's good that he cums, right in his pants. he's so drunk off your pussy, you have to push his heaad away from your pussy, wanting more, wanting to memorize how good you taste on his tongue. it's only when he's finally straight in the head he feels so sticky his pants feel, silently cursing under his breath.

"fuck baby, why didn't we do this sooner?" he asks you with a laugh, pulling you onto his chest after finding you a shirt to put on, and new pants for him. everything is so calm now, hearing his heartbeat, the faint lub-dup echoing in his chest. you shrug, genuinely not knowing why you didn't let anything to further than kissing if you knew it would be like that.

you both sit in comfortable silence for a bit, before an idea comes to your boyfriends head. "baby, why don't we record ourselves when we do this?" he asks you, eyes bright and brows raised.

"why the fuck would we do that?" you say, sounding a bit meaner than you meant to. i mean, the boy in front of you just made you cum, twice, and now wants to make porn to post to his twitter of it?

"no baby, so that you can use it to study" he says, and you come to the realization you said that aloud. you ponder. it for a bit, not a horrible idea. you'd have a visual to study off of, and could use the videos to draw diagrams of the body for different tests and assignments, while also leaving timestamps at certain points to describe how something felt for your upcoming exam.

"sure, why the fuck not? we're young, and it's not like anyone else is gonna see these" you say, looking at him for approval. "right, it's a win-win, i get to make you cum, and you get to learn about the human body and all of it's amazing sensations." he replies, reaching out a hand for you to shake. sealing the deal with a firm handshake, you both grow silent before falling asleep, still on choso's chest.

surely these videos will be for educational purposes only... right?

© veraghost 2024. All work belongs to @veraghost. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms. This includes themes and pinned.

[lowkeyremi]

TWO TIMES THE FUN !

pairing: atsumu x fem!reader note: ITS MY BABIES BIRTHDAYS!!!!!! I didn’t know who I wanted to write about because I didn’t want to make two separate fics this year. I wanted this fic to be longer than what I usually go for. So of course, as much as I love samu I had to make it all about his brother!! Sorry for those hoping for some samu action </3 (ALSO NGL I feel like this fic was all over the place 😭) summary: it’s your boyfriend and his twin’s birthday ! can you, suna, and the others successfully plan out their party or will it be total chaos? content: fluff, relationships, atsumu being a little piece of shit as per usual, msby four cameos, kisses, a lot of teasing, swearing, children (tsumu’s twins from haikyuu men as fathers), just pure joy tbh. wc: 2.8k

“Alright guys, I’ll see you tonight. Atsumu, make sure to let the nanny know that the chicken is in the fridge and she can make whatever with it for dinner. Love you all!” Atsumu nods his head firmly, whilst the twins are behind him, attempting to push him out of the way to get one more hug in.

“Papa move out the way! We need to hug Mama.” Kensuke stresses to his father. The little boy is pushing with all his might to move his father’s legs, only to make no progress. Atsumu is a professional athlete after all, it would probably be questionable if his legs buckled, because a five year old was pushing them.

“Ya already gave yer Mama plenty of hugs ya rude lil sh- shrimp!” Atsumu immediately looks away at the doorframe with sudden interest, as to avoid a lecture from you.

While he’s somewhat distracted Kosuke crawls under his father’s legs to give you a hug. He’s always been the smarter one out of the twins.

“Bye Ko, take care of Papa and Kensuke for me, alright?” A sudden seriousness takes over Kosuke’s face.

“I will Mama.” While Atsumu is distracted bickering with his carbon copy, you sneak to your car in order to leave for ‘work’. For the past couple of days you’ve been going to Osamu’s shop straight after work to meet up with Suna, who was paying 10890 yen just to take the train there and back every evening.

‘For what purpose?’ one might one ask. Well, for the Miya twins surprise party, of course. Although, Atsumu had said he didn’t want to have a party for his 29th birthday, since it’s not an important one, you and Suna decided you’d throw one anyway. It’s quite important to you, his last year being in his 20s.

Everything has gone according to plan so far, the cake order is put in, the decorations are stored in the supply room of Onigiri Miya, and neither twin knows about the surprise.

Osamu is in Tokyo; helping out with his relatively new branch of Onigiri Miya. He set up shop there a year ago, but he still goes in to check on the shop every here and there. He’s going to be back Friday morning, so Suna said he would distract him and keep him away from the shop since that’s when you’ll be setting up decorations.

It would be ideal to put the decorations up earlier, but Onigiri Miya in Osaka is still open during the week thanks to Osamu’s most diligent employee, who runs the place while he’s gone.

Said employee has been giving you access to the shop, so you can set up the party, without Osamu’s knowledge.

According to Suna, Osamu hadn’t mentioned anything about their birthday. He didn’t even suggest something small. Who could blame him though? After all, he is a business owner with a new branch, of course he’s bound to forget things.

Everyday at work you’ve been doing your work for that day, plus some work for tomorrow, so you can leave earlier to touch up on party planning. There are only two more days until the party and you feel very confident about everything. As of now, everything is going to plan, causing your heart to race in excitement. A reoccurring buzz from your phone pulls you out of your thoughts.

It doesn’t even register that you should check the ID caller, before answering, “hey.”

“It’s Suna, you mind if I bring Komori with me today? He says he’d like to help.” For some reason Suna always sounds so bored over the phone, which makes it difficult to pick up his real tone. The only way you can tell how he feels is when looking at him.

“That’s perfect! Tell him we’d love to have him help. The more hands the better.” A hum reaches your ear in response.

“Okay I gotta go, I’m pulling into work. Shoot me a text when you guys arrive, so I can pick you up.”

“Will do, bye.” Suna hangs up before you can say goodbye back to him.

“Soooo, what can I help with?” The three of you walk into Onigiri Miya’s main location, with plastic bags in your arms. There’s a certain eagerness in Komori’s tone that makes you smile. It’s very refreshing considering how nonchalant and indifferent Suna can be.

“Well, I’ve ordered custom balloons and they need to be picked up soon. You can take my car as long as you have your license.”

“Gotcha! Just send me the address and the receipt for the balloons.” You’re almost surprised how quickly Komori is on board, because if you had asked Suna he probably would have looked up the distance, then decided that you’ll go get the balloons and he’ll stay here and decorate.

“Alright, thank you Komori for being helpful, unlike somebody.” Suna scoffs at your unsubtle hint to him being lazy.

“Whatever, I’ve been coming everyday after work, paying 20k for the train here and back, plus doing everything you tell me to-”

You quickly intercept before he can continue his rant, “Yeah after I have to beg you like twenty times and I’ve already asked you if I could pay for your train and you said no!”

“That’s because your stupid husband would come for my throat if I did.” An eye roll was sent your way by Suna.

“There’s no need to fight guys, we’re doing this for the twins right? So we gotta work together.” Komori steps in before the fight can really escalate. Something all parties have learned is that you and Suna work well together, until you start fighting. Which was exactly why you only dated him for a month in high school. (Yeah tsumu got with his friend’s ex. To be fair he liked you before Suna did. Plus there’s no hard feelings.)

“You’re right, here are my keys, Komori.” The male takes the keys from you and walks out of the door to retrieve the balloons.

“Alright, Rin. Let’s get to work.” He nods in agreement.

“Not your left, my left!” Once again, you’re raising your voice.

“Then you should have said that.” Even though you can’t see his face because you’re behind him, it’s obvious that he’s rolling his eyes at you. Suna moves the banner left a little bit,

“Okay stop that’s good!” He slumps down a little bit, most likely sore from raising his arms for so long.

“Well we’ve done all we can do for today since the shop still needs to open tomorrow.” Suna nods, hopping off of the chair he was standing on.

“How far away is Komori with the alcohol?” Komori brought back the balloons half an hour ago and you immediately sent him back out to get the drinks of choice.

“He should be back in a little while, your train will be arriving soon, right?”

“Yeah, but we’re not too far from the station, so we should be alright.” He shrugs.

“I’m here!” As if on cue Komori busts through the door with a few bottles of liquor. The professional athlete seems to be out of breath.

“Why are you so out of breath, dude? You literally just had to get out of the car and walk in here.” Komori just ignores Suna and brings the bottles the storage room were everything else for the party is.

“That’s all, right? I don’t think I have enough time to run another errand.” Worry settles on Komori’s face, he must be trying to figure out what to say if you did ask him to do something else.

“Yep that’s all, I’ll drive you guys back to the station. Will you be coming back tomorrow to help set up everything?” Hopefully he says yes, but you can’t be too sad if he doesn’t, he’s a grown man with a job afterall.

“Hell yeah I will be!”

“Hurry up!” You repeat once again, in fear you guys might be late to the party. Atsumu still doesn’t know you guys have thrown him a party. All he does know is that he’s going to have a birthday dinner at his brother’s place.

“Are the boys ready? M’coming babe. Why couldn’t we have gone to eat somewhere else? We always eat at ‘Samu’s” Atsumu grumbles quietly while buttoning up his dress shirt.

“I know, I know, but since dinner was such a last minute decision, I asked Osamu if we could just eat at the shop.” Little does your husband know you’re lying. He doesn’t ultimately seem to mind eating at his brother’s shop anyway. The two have been too busy living their adult lives to link up like they used to do every Friday evening.

Atsumu goes to respond but he’s cut off by small wails of terror, “Mama!!! Kensuke’s wearing my shirt.” Kosuke is usually the more composed of the two, but he does have his moments where he loses it.

“Nuh-uh butt-face! It’s my shirt!” Kensuke bursts in after him, almost knocking his brother to the floor with brute force.

“Hey what did I say about calling each other-”

“GIVE IT BACK YA PIECE OF CRAP!” Kosuke screams while trying to rip the shirt off of his twin.

Your eyes widen in terror at your son’s choice of words.

“Kosuke Miya!” The boy goes completely stiff when he hears the way you call his name.

“Where did you hear that?” There’s a fat chance it was from your husband or your brother in law or both, honestly.

“Uh… um. Well, I heard papa say that when he was fightin’ with Uncle ‘Samu, but he didn’t say crap.” Kosuke starts to nervously pick at his fingernails.

“He said the S word didn’t he?” Kosuke nods, so much for keeping a secret. Atsumu’s never saying anything vulgar in front of his children again.

“Atsumu Miya.” You turn your head to meet his gaze and he gives you sheepish smile.

“M’sorry babe. It won’t happen again. Could ya cut me some slack? It’s my birthday.” He pleads with those puppy dog eyes.

A loud sigh leaves your lips, “Fine but we are picking this up later.” Your husband nods in agreement.

“Okay now, why do you think your brother stole your shirt…”

A whole forty-five minutes later, the Miya family has finally made it into the car. You made sure to call Suna before you left, so he could make sure to bring Osamu to the shop. The brunette succeeded in keeping Osamu busy on Friday.

“Look at my boys, you’re all so handsome.” The twins and Atsumu gush at your compliment. Like father like sons, you guess.

Excitement buzzes throughout your body, causing you to smile ear to ear during the car ride there.

“What’s got ya so excited, my love?” Atsumu asks looking over at you from the passenger seat. Atsumu can drive, it’s just that he’s the worst driver in the world. So, if you’re riding with him you always vow to drive. He’s a passenger princess anyway.

“I’m overwhelmed with happiness that you’ve lived to see another birthday and that we get to celebrate you and your brother.” Atsumu smiles up until the last part of your sentence.

“Ya could’a left out the ‘your brother’ part.” Luckily for you when he said that, you’ve reached a red light, so you reach over to slap him lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t even pretend like you don’t like ‘Samu. As much as I want to deny it he is your other half.” You put your focus back on the road as he speaks up,

“Yer my other half, baby. In a romantic sense, but I guess that scrub is my other half too.”

“So you, Mama, ‘n Uncle ‘Samu are like thirds, ‘n y’all share Mama?” Kensuke’s innocent question causes Atsumu’s face to scrunch up in disgust. There’s no way in hell he’d share you with his brother.

“Hel- heck nah. Think of it as two circles ‘n Papa is one half of both circles. The other halves are yer Mama and Uncle ‘Samu.” Kensuke’s confusion tenfolds at the analogy his father gave him.

“Um… okay.” The backseat is quiet for the rest of the ride, which you can only be thankful for.

“Is ‘Samu even in there? The blinds are closed.” Atsumu is holding Kensuke and Kosuke’s small hands. The four of you walk up to the door,

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s here.” The blinds are closed, because Atsumu’s parents, former high school teammates, and current teammates are inside waiting for the birthday boys.

“Ya lyin’ on my name?” A voice comes from behind you. Atsumu’s head whips around to see his brother standing behind him with Suna.

Kosuke is the first to break from his father’s grip.

“Uncle ‘Samu! Happy birthday!” Osamu squats down to hold his arms out for the young boy to hug him.

Kensuke follows in pursuit, “I wanted to hug Uncle ‘Samu first-uh!” He tries to pull his brother away from Osamu and ends up scratching him on the face.

Before the boys can once again start up another tantrum Osamu steps in, “Now now, guys, there’s enough of me to go around. Don’t want yer pops to get jealous, do ya?”

Atsumu turns his head away ignoring his brother’s statement.

“Let’s go inside, jeez, if yer serving dinner; why the heck aren’t ya in yer shop?” Your husband is practically fuming at his sons’ reactions to their Uncle.

“I wasn’t even gonna serve ya, stupid. My employee called saying that they left the shop unlocked by accident, so I was coming here to close it. Suna decided to follow along.”

It takes them a few seconds but they connect the dots, first turning to Suna and then to you.

You don’t allow them to get a word in though because you push open the glass door and scream out, “Surprise guys!!”

Along with all the others inside of the building.

“Babe… I thought we weren’t doing anything big?” Atsumu straightens himself up, as if he hadn’t embarrassed himself in front of everyone that is inside of the shop before.

“Atsumu, honey are ya really gonna complain when yer wife did all of this for you and yer brother?” His mother luckily swoops in to save you. She gives you a quick wink that practically says ‘I’ve got you honey.’

“I ain’t complaining…”

“I still can’t believe I came to such a dumb event.” Sakusa grumbles beside you. He’s always been like that, you’ve realized. The only thing that has changed is that he doesn’t really mean any of the remarks he says.

He’ll never admit but he doesn’t really hate your husband.

���Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Something you’d also learned about Sakusa is that his alcohol tolerance is kind of low. Every thing that Sakusa is saying, is just the liquor talking.

“I could go on for days, really. He’s obnoxious, loud mouthed, vulgar, gross-”

“Omi! Ya know my wife is desensitized to all yer bad mouthin’. She’s seen it all.” Atsumu’s cheeks and ears are a soft pink.

“You, do not need any more drinks tonight.” You take Atsumu’s glass of whatever the hell he’s drinking. Behind where you and Sakusa are standing is the cooler, you waste no time grabbing a juice box and shoving it into your husband’s hands.

“I’m still surprised she hasn’t gone runnin’ for the hills yet. Ya drove me off the wall fer eighteen years of my life ‘n now, poor [name] has doomed herself to a life sentence with ya.” Osamu joins in on the Atsumu slander club.

“She agreed to marry me you stupid idiot!” Osamu chuckles at that, knocking back another shot.

“Yeah! [name]-chan love, love, loves, ‘Tsumu!!! To the moon and back- no like to the universe and back!!” Bokuto interrupts out of nowhere.

Hinata springs into the conversation too. Since you had been planning this party for awhile, the ginger flew all the way from Brazil to come to Atsumu’s 29th birthday party. To say Atsumu was surprised was an understatement. Your husband isn’t big on physical contact. He liked high fives, and really nothing more than that, but when he saw Hinata, he enveloped him in a bone crushing hug.

“Yeah! She’s not doomed!!” Hinata joins in.

“See, these guys get me!” You shake your head, trying not to laugh at your husband’s childish-ness. With all the attention on him and such a light atmosphere, he’s practically glowing. In the end, everything you’ve done was worth seeing your husband happy on his special day.

“Happy birthday, Tsumu.”

“Thank you, baby.” The blond squeezes you in a tight embrace and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Sure everyone teases you for marrying such a wild man, but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else besides his warm arms.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites without my permission, thanks!

[jolalibrary]

arepas

javier peña x f!reader

summary: when you’re single, it’s complicated. messy. he can’t think straight. Not as straight as he needs to be to keep his wits about him.

an: dedicated to the wonderful, the amazing @halfmoth-halfman - i told you that i'd write you something, and here it is. I hope it makes you smile as much as you make me smile. word count: 9.3k (sorry, not sorry) warnings: developing feelings, slow burn -> colleagues to friends to lovers. usual jo angst, but with lots of banter. fingering, p in v, angst, sweet ending, spoilers for narcos season two.

friend noun /frɛnd/ a person with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically one exclusive of sexual or family relations. "she's a friend of mine."

It starts in Bogotá. 

His eyes rake over you—the new pretty secretary who won't meet his eyes as though you’d heard all about him. 

It's why he waits. Biding his time before gracing your desk. A file in hand, leaning down—forcing your eyes to meet his. Javi's smirk almost eclipses his face, only doing so when you lift your chin and he finds your lips have slid so far up one side as you stare at his hand.

Agent Pe— I know who you are, Peña. Your reputation precedes you. Good things, I hope?  Depends on who you ask. 

You call him Peña all the time. Even as days slip into weeks, even if he insists you call him Javier or Javi. The tension building, thickening—just like a dish left on a hob. 

He’s used to the whispers, but he’s not used to the ignorance. The way you don’t look at him like the others, instead always trying to find out what he needs from you, rather than what he wants. 

It allows him the chance to study, to watch. Noticing the way you work, the way you converse easily with others and how you walk around the office like you barely notice him. 

It wasn’t through a lack of trying why he hadn’t worsened his reputation. It wasn’t fear of fucking you, of muddying his place of work further—his focus, mission, objective wasn’t to keep the piece inside crumbling Colombian walls. It was more that the fact his usual tactics weren’t working even when his intention was there, clear as the sky on a sunny morning. 

You seemed stressed. Aren’t we all, Peña? I know how to get around that… I’ve heard. 

It’s not that your tongue is quick or icy—it’s that you do it all without looking at him. You bite back without lifting your eyes or turning to him when he stands beside you. An indifference he had usually woven under in the time you’ve been here, but finding troublesome with you. 

So, he tries smiling when smoke swirls around the ceiling fan, and you drop a file off; he drops his voice when he bumps into you by the water machine, holding your sight—commanding it. Which is why he notices the irritation simmering in yours. Growing, and grating more so by his mere breath, never mind his words. 

You don’t like me much.  I don’t know you.  You could. Know me.  What would be the point, Peña? You don’t listen, you interrupt everyone, you fuck everything with a pulse— Tell me how you really feel, hermosa.  I’m trying, but once again, you’re only half listening. 

Determined—that’s how he was often described. 

It was, for this reason, that he has poured so many of his years into catching Escobar. Why he’d looked for whores to get information, not banking on caring and emotions. It’s why he hadn’t looked for anything outside of a quick fuck, a friend, or a sense of belonging—he didn’t have another ounce left in him. It was all spent on the reason he was here: narcos. 

There had been others, naturally. Not all bent to his charm, even if the majority did. He should add you to the list, to the small pile that had amassed through the building and beyond. 

Javi doesn’t. 

And it doesn’t get better, easier. You decline his invites for drinks, even if you do begin to aid him. You refuse grabbing food for lunch with him, even if you have started taking paperwork off him to type up. You’ve even begun making comments, funny ones about his typing abilities, even shooting him a smile as you travel back to your desk. Yet, you don’t even let him drive you home when your car isn’t working. 

Purposefully, you’re a bag of mixed messages. Not because you decline him but because he cannot find a rational reason as to why. You’ve begun moving his paperwork up, but you flirt back. Flimsy, thin excuses find your tongue quicker when he invites you to drinks, not even just with him.  

You’re confusing. A brand of difficult he hadn’t had the opportunity to circle before, something which bothers the shit out of him. 

Which is why he’s coating his throat in whiskey—getting through his pack of Marlboro’s quicker than he usually would be in a bar like this. 

Because, while he doesn’t get you, he hates work functions more. Despising with each growing minute that he’s at one. 

He prefers to choose his company—paid or unpaid. And the sole reason he’d even gone in the first place was to get you to stop calling him Peña—and to keep the CIA away from you. 

He ends up being successful at one of those things. It’s not that he wasn’t sure how to befriend women, just that he usually chooses not to. He ruins any possibility of it by turning on the charm, having their blouse in his fingers and his hand stuffed in their lace. Even for all his charm, it is hard to get them back on his side when he doesn’t call them, or mistakenly calls out the wrong name or avoids them. 

It’s why he knows his name is dirt amongst several secretaries. He’s aware of how gossip spreads like wildfire amongst the secretaries, receptionists, file room assistants, watching it happen as their eyes glisten when he walks past, their whispers dropping an octave when he is within ears reach. 

You don’t partake in it. Digging your pretty eyes into him rather than fluttering your eyelashes. You can put those puppy-dog eyes away, Peña. I’m immune to putas. You can wait like everyone else. Chin lifting at the last second, smothering him in stifled stress and a please-don't-push-me-look. It’s how he learnt you were going for drinks with the CIA, how he discovered the bar and time. 

Why he went in the first place. 

It crossed his mind this could be the night. He could keep you company, find a way in when your wall was down because of the liquor on your tongue. The moment fizzled when he chose to be a gentleman—helping you into his car, guiding you into your place. Even holding your hair back as you vomited the contents of your stomach out. Maybe he should have warned you about doing shots with Jacoby in the first place, but then, he wouldn’t be alone with you. 

See the way you put your weapons down and looked at him pitifully when you couldn’t get the key in your door.

I’ve got you, Bonita.  Bet you say—hiccup—that to all the whores.  You’re not a whore.  No. No, I’m not.

He’d expected you to push him, fight him once inside your place, but you were silent. Occasionally frowning with glossed-over eyes as he continued to help you. You even allow him to help you to bed—without so much as removing his clothes. He’d been almost out of your bedroom door when he heard it:

Still gonna call you Peña, Peña. I know, bonita. There’s a glass of water on your table. 

It played on his mind. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t be chivalrous, just that it was rare. Stuffed down into his tight jeans and under layers of Colombian grief. While he cares about the people in his life, even the ones at arms reach—the ones he pays and the ones he takes home from a hard day—he doesn’t show it. Keeping it tightly wrapped and away, not willing to let simple and futile emotions blur the lines of why he was here. 

So it surprises him when you leave him a thank you. 

A small note on his desk attached to a bottle containing amber and a large packet of Marlboros.

Still think you’re an asshole, Peña. 

It was the worst thank you note he’s ever had, yet it made him smile. Unthreads annoyances of his day, sewing in a piece of niceness in a tapestry of shit. 

What he did know is that the window of sleeping with you was growing smaller, only fully shutting on him when he uncapped the bottle and poured you a glass when you knocked on his door for his signature. The small office he resided in—all dark, simmering with disappointment and failure after another dead end. Not that you commented on it—even if your eyes narrowed and your lips spread thin. 

You were polite like that. Didn’t call into question or hold a mirror up to him. Just let him be. Tapping your glass against his, his eyes watching as you take a sip—not hissing, not flinching as the taste slides down your throat. Not even when it collects somewhere in your stomach. If anything, you smile. 

Running his hand along his chin, letting his eyes roam as you take in the walls—the files. Your glass teetering on your bottom lip, painted in a shade he wanted staining on various parts of his body—

“Surprised you’re having a drink with me, Peña,” you say, all airy and light—glancing over your shoulder, shining him in mischievous twinkles. “Especially when you could be… paying for better company.” 

He snorts at that, lets a laugh escape—puncture the air. “You know, you bring it up so often, bonita. I’m beginning to think you’re jealous.”  

“Not in the slightest—I don’t do one-night stands.” 

“Two night stands?” He muses. 

And you smirk. Gloriously. Wide and large, the closest he’s gotten you to smile. “If it’s good enough to go back again, why stop at twice?” 

He struggles for a retort, the acidic nature of it being swallowed by whiskey as he raises his glass to his lips. 

Then it shifts the conversation. Returns to normal, safer topics, finding he snorts a few more times as the drinks flow. Even finding you pull a rich laugh from him—one that erases some of the tension, unknots his shoulders from his ears. 

It isn’t until he hears the sweetness of your laugh that he finds that a quarter of the bottle has gone. The paper you’d come in to have signed, still at the top of a forgotten pile. 

You weren't looking, having already turned your back to him, eyes fixed on the wall—the little pins and photos. Allowing him to run his eyes along your back, to your clothe-covered hips and the curves that had been front and centre of his thoughts when he fucked his fist. Your name has been simmering on his tongue for weeks, since you’d been introduced.  

Something stopping him from acting on his thoughts, from standing up and coming up behind you. That very thing being the foundation of what he’d been after from the start. 

“Am I still an asshole, bonita?” He asks when he finally signs the sheet. 

You take the paper, offering a softer smile with a head tilt. “We should drink in your office again. You’re less of one in here, Javi.” 

“It’s cheaper.” “Cheaper?” You groan, and he slides his hand over his face to hide his smile.  “Fine, Peña—“ “Javi. Come on, bonita. We made progress.”  Glaring, you straighten your spine. “Javi, I wanna eat greasy food in a baggy t-shirt and watch shit TV that I can only partially keep up with. Do you want to do that with me?”  How could he say no? “Do I have to eat greasy food?” “Yes. It’s the law.”  Snorting, he picks up the file, tapping the end of your desk. “I’ll be there around nine.” 

You’re everywhere. 

He begins finding you at his favourite food stand, conversing with the owner, grin so large it hits your eyes. Another time, you’re at the shop on the corner near his place, brown bag in hand, a knowing nod sent his way when you pass. 

It throws him off, continuing to do so until it changes, and he comes to expect you. Doesn’t brace or freeze, but welcomes you. Leaning into it that you’re there, everywhere he doesn’t expect you to be. Slowly, bleeding across his life, planting yourself in the soil he hadn’t known surrounded him. 

Your name falls from his lips with simplicity, you call him Javi as though it’s all you’ve ever called him. 

Things shifting, changing just like the temperature in Bogotá. He chooses to sit beside you when he spots you at the bar, and not close to the table who were giggling and whispering at his arrival. He opts to ask you for help, over the secretary who has been giving him heart-shaped eyes since she heard something or another. 

Javi is smart, and isn't an idiot. He knows it has shifted. Changed. 

For the better, he isn’t entirely sure. 

He finds comfort in you in a way he doesn’t usually pay for. The desire to fuck you because you were attractive lessening, and rather because, on some level, he suspected he actually liked you. Especially when you invited him for drinks at yours, instead of a bar. 

It was easier not to question it. To not change. To not ask and ruin it. He went round to yours, or you to his. A gap forming, welcomed and strong. Javi fucked who he wanted to fuck, and sought companionship (fully clothed, a glass of liquor variation in hand) from you. The contents of it shifted depending entirely on the situation. Sometimes, it was accompanied by home-cooked food, and sometimes he brought warm trays in a bag that you groaned in appreciation upon arrival. 

Javi told himself you reminded him of Laredo. Of high-school friends and easy laughter. You reminded him of girls who never became more than friends, the ones he’d grown apart from when they settled and married, and he ran as far away as possible. 

That and he just liked your company. You made it easy. You were his… Friend. 

You were something different than what he had with Carillo. Something other than the partnership he was now bedding in with Murphy. 

You had embedded yourself as much in work as you were out of it. As time ticked on, his brain slowly filled with useless information about likes and dislikes in a drawer in his mind, he marked just for you. They weren’t things he usually didn’t care to know about anyone. Not since he’d been in Colombia. Not since he’d been in Laredo, where he’d never been short of a friend to two. 

Being your friend became a thing he suddenly wanted to cling to. Not wanting to lose it—lose you, not wanting to fuck it up. 

So, he didn’t. 

Even if you looked at him with pretty eyes, dragging your tongue across your bottom lip. Even if sometimes the silenced humming with something different, something less friendly. 

He cared. 

Really cared. He found himself annoyed if you seemed a little off, and found himself wanting to make you smile. The two of you spread past the line into an area out of his usual wheelhouse. Friendship. A relationship that had him around your place so many nights a week, tucking into spirits and beer you’d begun keeping just for him. It was normal. Nice. 

Or it was, until you curled into one side of the sofa, him on the other. Your foot isn’t close to his thigh, no leg draped over his—your behaviour not like normal. 

He’d put it down to another shit date. One he’d been tortured with hearing about—the only downside to the arrangement, the friendship. 

But, as you wrap your fingers around your calf, he realises it isn’t the date, the bad food or the day. 

“Being your friend is kinda hard.”

Frowning, he sits up a little more. “Why?”

You shrug. He doesn’t like it when you do. You have answers, usually quick ones. A shrug meaning you don’t or you’re afraid of speaking them—letting them ball and fester in your throat. 

“‘Cause you do thoughtful shit, and it makes me think things.”

He bites his smirk, and savours it. Knowing and understanding more than he can acknowledge as he folds his arms. “Not a smart move, thinking about me, hermosa.” 

“Don’t I know it.” 

"Bonita...."

"Why'd you call me that?"

You don't ask it rudely, more questionably. Brows knitting together in confusion as you watch him.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not in the slightest."

He smirks, letting out a sharp laugh. "Go get another drink, bonita."

“So, the two of you haven’t… you know?” Leaning in the chair, he stares at him. “No. We haven’t.” “I don’t believe you?” Smirking, he shifts his hips. “Go ask her. She’ll say the same.” He snorts. “You’re telling me you go round her place, have fun, laugh, and leave—I don’t believe it.”  “Believe it, Murphy.” 

It’s hard not to call back to the words spoken that night. 

Let them loop around and around, wrap themselves around other phrases—micro-expressions and bothersome avoidance. 

Your eyes were dark, chin resting on your knee, looking at him as though you wanted to burn everything to the ground. He’d swallowed, and hesitated—two things he never did. 

But with you, he wasn’t exactly himself. 

You had found a way to unlock a part of him he kept away from everyone else. He was still an asshole, still selfish and cocky. But he also bit back more around you and found ways to annoy you playfully, rather than to piss you off. 

“Here.”

“You bought me a book?” 

He smirks, gripping his arms as he watches you turn it over, “You like reading.”

Smirking, you scan the blurb, your brain trying to translate it quickly. “What gave you that impression?” 

Shrugging, he trails a finger across his bottom lip. The signature smirk started growing, spreading, eclipsing whatever was there previously. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, hermosa. I see you reading on your lunch.” He looks you up and down. “Thought you could do with some fresh material.” 

“So you bought me a romance book.”

Dropping his arms, he rolls his lips. “Everyone needs a little romance in their life, don’t they?” 

“Well, you’re the expert. I hear you’ve been getting some “romance” nightly,” you smirk, placing the book down.

He had. 

Almost determined to do so. Needing to bury himself to the hilt in others to distract him from you. Secretly thinking of you, trying to imagine the way your skin would feel under his calloused palms. 

“Jealous, bonita?”

Smiling, you tilt your head. “Why? I’ve got a romance book.”

He tries to tell himself he’s not affected by you. 

That it’s protectiveness why he sits at the bar in the restaurant you’re in. Why he chooses a seat where he can see the reflection in the mirror behind the liquor bottles, able to see you without watching you. 

He tells himself it’s to ensure you’re okay. Nothing else. The convincing goes well until your finger taps him on the shoulder, practically dragging him outside by his elbow. 

The cooler temperature bites his skin, but your eyes full of fire keep him warm. Digging into him, inflicting flames that lick at muscle and bone.

“Why are you here, Peña?”

He masks a shudder. “Don’t… don’t call me, Peña—“

“—you fucked all the whores?” 

“I was drinking.” 

Raising your brow, you fold your arms. “You’re ruining my date.” 

He lets his eyes drop. Knowing he is. He knew he would when he scrunched the piece of paper in his hand as he overheard you talking about some black dress and little heels for it. 

The same ones you’re standing in front of him in, looking nothing short of radiant—the slightest shiver misting over you.

“You deserve better.”

Folding your arms, you sigh. “What, like you?” 

He runs a hand over his chin, leaning against the wall. “No, bonita. Better than me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, the shiver more obvious. So much so, he removes his jacket, considering draping it over you, but instead hands it to you. 

“Look, I know I ruined your date, but he’s an asshole.”

Swallowing, you let out a heavy breath. “I’m mad at you, but… he really is awful.”

He smothers his relief. Ensures his tone is normal as he murmurs, “Yeah?” 

Nodding, you bite your lip. “Can you… could y—“

“Go get your bag, hermosa.”

It’s quiet, the car ride. 

Your knee nervously bounces, the fabric of your dress rising up your thigh as you do. 

He’s being tested. He’s sure of it. Adamantly so when he pulls up outside yours, and you invite him in. It’s confirmed when you tell him to help himself while you change, stepping into your room. 

A version of him wanting to follow. To place his hand on the back of your neck, the other tilting your chin up, kissing the name of your date tonight. Pulling your body close, making it forget it ever shivered from anything less than pleasure. 

He thinks about it as he fills his glass, and keeps yours empty. Javi thinks it as his jeans become tight and his pulse quickens, wondering if you sprayed your perfume anywhere other than your neck and wrist—whether you’d taste as sweetly as you say his name. Whether you’d dig your nails in when he stuffed you full of him—

“Not pouring me one?” 

Blinking, you’re in his T-shirt and some leggings. 

The former is something you’d borrowed when you’d spilt food on your blouse. A band tee, one from a concert when he was younger and happier, and less confused what the fuck all of this meant. 

He hadn’t realised how much he had been holding himself back until you sank onto your sofa, looking serious—brows and forehead creasing. 

It made him want to nurse it out of you, find a solution to stop you from worrying or overthinking. 

“You’ve never tried to sleep with me.” 

He scoffs, loud and undignified. The sentence catches and cuts through the air. All the letters of it punctuated by a thin silence, lightly chopped—not allowing interjection or regret. 

You're waiting. 

Nervously. Plucking your bottom lip between your white teeth like you’re picking guitar strings. 

He considers telling you the truth. That fucking you had been the sole and only intention for a long time. Seeing if you could bend in two, what noises you would make—see if he could get you to chant his name. 

That had been his goal… until it wasn’t. 

Javi drains his glass, knowing you’re astute. That you work with agents of all kinds—you hold your fucking own around all sorts of them. So you know (of course you know) when someone is lying—so he offers something else entirely. 

A slither of truth, an offering of it—if that. 

“Didn’t wanna fuck this up, bonita.”

You take a sip of your own, not smiling, not smirking. Silence thumps between the two of you as you likely process the information, both in word form and in heavy silence. Then you land your eyes on him, something blossoming in them, spreading and taking over as they seemingly darken like the sky before a storm. 

“That because you don’t think you could make me come, Peña?” 

He spreads his palm against his jeans, resting the glass against his other as he drags his eyes to the floor. Biting the inside of his cheek. Wondering to himself why he’d stopped trying so quickly, knowing he was usually much more persistent. His perseverance was why he was still here, hunting Escobar. Yet, he’d folded like a piece of fucking paper when it came to you. 

“Fine,” you commented, placing your glass down. “If we… don’t want to fuck this up. I think we need a codeword. An unsexy one. One that sorta tells the other to stop doing whatever they’re fucking doing….”

“Because…?” 

You give him a look, a sharp one with soft edges. “Because we’re friends, right?”

He nods. 

“So, as friends, I need a word to shout at you when you’re… Peñaring.” Frowning, he watches you smirk. “Javi, you’re handsome. And I spend… I spend more time with you than anyone else. The whole time I was on that date, I was thinking of you—and then there you fucking were. Being my friend.” 

No. He thinks. 

Knowing inside of him he wasn’t there to be your friend, but something he can’t quite acknowledge. A thing which vibrates inside of him, that gallops when you’re around and worsens when you’re not. 

A thing he cannot give into. Not with what he does. 

Not with what happened to Helena… 

The remembrance, the horrid wake-up call that continues to paralyse him. The larger need to keep you safe. 

“You like whores and quick-fucks. I like fucking one person who will only fuck me while they’re fucking me. And, I need the word—a word—because we spend a lot of time together, and you look like you do.” 

His lip twitches, his moustache moving as he drags his eyes back to you. Unsure how you haven’t thrown it out there that you looking the way you do is also a problem.

As though you’re ignoring how fucking sinful you always look—especially in his fucking clothes. 

He doesn’t because, if anything, he doesn’t hate the idea. Not immediately. Somewhat struggling to hide the way you make his cock twitch when you flirt, when you lean on his desk, the top two buttons undone on your blouse. That he sometimes fucks and wishes it was you and not the woman he’s chosen. 

The two of you toeing the line of being friends to the point it sometimes makes his head hurt and his cock throb. 

“What you got in mind?” 

“Apuñalarme?”

He shouldn’t be surprised you’d thought of a word. Always methodical, always thinking ahead. 

“Thinkin’ that one could be taken the wrong way.”

Frowning, you reach forward for some of the leftovers. “How?” 

He stares, and then he swallows. “Well, I could stab you with my co—“

“OKAY. Fine. Who knew it would be so hard to pick a word to keep our friendship intact? What about… arepa?” 

Taking a sip of his drink, his brow slowly arched.

“Well, it’s food—“

“Food can be sexy, bonita.”

“Yes, but if I said arepas, I don’t think: fuck me, Peña—I think fuck I could really eat some stuffed arepas with my friend Peña. Plus, we can then use it around people, ‘cause they’ll just think I’m after food.”

He plays with the glass, staring at your coffee table as he takes it in. Considering it. Finding it plausible—a good enough excuse. A thing to say other than ‘I don’t wanna hear about you going on a date, bonita’—probably around the same as you don’t wanna hear about his conquests. 

You’re nervous, teeth picking at your skin. 

Something blooming in his chest, smothering warmth across his heart and skin. You want to be his friend—you want him in your life. 

“Alright, bonita, let’s give it a go.”

You pout, sighing. “You driving me home?” “Arepas.”  “Funny, Peña. So funny.” “You made the rule, bonita.”  Rolling your lips, he watches as you fold your arms under your dress. The fabric flows, blowing around your legs. “I can make this hard for you.”  “That so?” He should have guessed it from the smirk alone.  “I’m not wearing any underwear,” you say, pulling on his door handle and stepping in before slamming it.  Leaving him processing, eyes staring at where you’d just been standing.

It became complicated in Medellín. 

The routine, the lines—the friendship. 

Everyone is forced all under one roof. The closer proximity means he has to listen to how the others talk to you, how you smile, and how you laugh with every single person. He can’t avoid your laugh—especially the ones you force from bad jokes. Javi has to listen to how others talk about you and how they describe the way they look at you. 

He also has to deal with how your perfume simmers in the air here, how it lingers and clings, even if he does his best to drown it out with smoke. 

In truth, he knows he is just annoyed that you’re even there, to begin with. And, not in Bogotá—where you would have been safer. 

And, as annoying as he finds it, Javi supposes you must suffer through your fair share. His eyes catch yours when someone has called for him, his voice low, a smirk halfway up his face until he sees you ducking your head. 

At the end of the first few days, he realises he misses his evenings with you back in Bogotá. Now, he has to share you in the open office space or hope you’re both free to go to one of the shitty bare rooms you’d both been given. 

Yours at least was more private, Messina having fought for you to have your own as soon as you were relocated to her. 

“Jealous, Peña?” “Yes, hermosa. You don’t have to share with Murphy.”

It worsens when he learns you’re single again. 

You populate his thoughts all over again, having previously stifled them when he knew you were taken. Now that the few month-long situation-ship with someone from the president's building had ended, he found you half a bottle of wine down in your room with several sad Spanish songs. 

When you’re single, it’s complicated. Messy. 

He can’t think straight. Not as straight as he needs to be to keep his wits about him. Before, he could convince himself that flirting is just how the two of you talk. He could comment slyly how he could give you a reason to be silent or him unable to tear his eyes off you when you bend down to get him something from the bottom shelf. 

Even if you’re taken, he thinks arepas repeatedly as you look up at him with wide eyes and gloss-covered lips. But, it’s harmless when you’re unavailable—a foundation of who the two of you were. Now it was confusing again. 

Especially when you begin wearing tight jeans. And you wait until Murphy leaves to pull his chair across and place a bottle on his desk. 

“I need to get drunk.”

Blowing into a spare mug, Javi slams it down next to the bottle. “We can’t leave the base.”

“No, we cannot.”

“Any reason as to why you wanna get drunk?”

You uncap the bottle, glaring at him as you clamp your lips together. The sound of alcohol sloshing into the mug before you begin pouring him one. 

“Hermosa…” 

You take a mouthful from the mug, flicking your eyes to him as he leans back, whispering your name.

“I’m frustrated.”

“Messina busting your—“

“Not like that, Javi.”

It takes him a second. 

A second too long for him, and then he almost chokes on his drink. “Arepas.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back in Murphy’s chair. “You asked.” 

His thoughts run ahead of him. The idea of pressing you against the desk, hooking a finger in a belt loop as he tugs your tight jeans to your thighs. The way you’d moan his name—not Javier, Javi. Your hands splayed across his desk, taking everything he—

“—so I need to get drunk because otherwise, I’m going to jump someone, because this job is stressful, and I miss my place, my… privacy, and I also miss food truck nights.” 

Swallowing, he places his mug down. 

“I need to have sex—“

“—Arepas—“

“But by someone who won’t lord it over me.” 

You stare at your mug, swirling it—biting the bottom of your lip as you do. 

And he’s all set to tell you that you drive him crazy, that he’d make you feel good—you just have to ask. His hand slides across the desk, all set to tug your hand closer as he mumbles it. 

Then fucking Murphy arrives. 

Him slamming a mug down next to the bottle, muttering about crashing the party as he massages his temple and slides back into his chair. 

It consumes him. The thoughts which he has let run free in the brief moment with you. How he’d fill you and make you hiss his name and make you come undone until you had no thoughts left. 

If he thinks he’s alone, you show your cards when he’s helping you move your bed. 

Your eyes are on him as he leans against the metal frame, staring off as he processes how he will have to move it. He doesn’t notice that the edge of his tan shirt has risen until he feels your eyes on him. 

“Arepas!” 

He flinches, ripped from his thoughts as he blinks, turning to look at you, watching you shift on the spot, a slow realisation coming to him as to why you shouted it. A smirk so large spreading, not even trying to hide it. 

“I haven’t… I haven’t even fuckin’ done anything.”

You fold your arms, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks, the pulse in your ears. “Yes, well… I’ll move the bed myself.”

“Bonita?”

“—I gotta go—“

“This is your room.” 

But you’re already heading to the door, flustered. He calls your name, but you’re gone—leaving him with only your scent and the last trailing sound of your voice. 

For a second, staring at the empty doorway, not hating it for one minute, all of it evidenced by the growing smirk on his face. 

The one not easily rid, even by the end of the day.  

“Your room is…. nice?” He sniggers, grabbing his jacket as you stand awkwardly. “Y’alright, bonita?”  Swallowing, you narrow your eyes when they land on him. Not cutting, but assessing. “Why have I heard from two separate people that they’ve been warned from me?”  Shrugging his shoulders, he slides his arms into his jacket, frowning—painting it on thickly, maybe even by too much.  “Javi.” “What?”  You look at him, challenging him. Looking every bit like the secretary he met in Bogotá and less like the friend he’s come to know you as.  “Did you warn people from asking me out?”  Adjusting his jacket, he sighs. “Yeah. I did.” 

Javi knows many things about you. 

Some he has learnt against his will, others he’s learnt from watching you. One thing he knows, more than anything else, is that you’re never late. Not even if the world was on fire. 

It’s why it coils inside him when he’s standing at the stairwell waiting for you. It chills him, prickles something inside. And then, it knots as his watch ticks on ripples out as more seconds become minutes. 

He must shift, stress rolling off of him as he finds Steve’s brow raised, flicking his eyes up at him before shaking his head. 

“Go on. I’ll let Messina know you’re both on your way.”

He doesn’t thank him, even if he makes a note to do so later. His feet taking the steps two at a time. Palm brushes over people as he moves them so he can get to your door quicker. 

It’s his sole thing, a crystallising focus that glimmers like a goal, a light around your door as he makes a beeline for it. For you. Not slowing or stopping until he’s outside of it, his knuckles hammering into it.

He tries not to smirk at the expletives he hears, the mix of English and Spanish coming from the other side. The beautiful blend he’s heard so often when you’ve dropped food, wine or burnt yourself. 

“One minute—“

“It’s me, bonita.”

He expects to hear a noise. Javi doesn’t expect a pause. A lengthy one.

“Oh.”

Oh? He thinks. 

“Um, Javi, just gimme….”

It bubbles. 

It fucking roars. It produces steam and fire—all of it feeling a lot like jealousy. Because: do you have someone in there with you? His jaw tightens at the idea, almost snapping into pieces, hammering against his feet. He hears a loud crash to the floor, shattering. His mind conjures images of two pairs of feet (at best), two awkward souls trying to move around one another littered by a sea of expletives and hisses.

“Bonita… open the f—door.” 

He doesn’t mean to use a tone. Unable to cage it, the fury which doubles and triples inside of him. Only just about managed to stifle the word fucking from being in the sentence.

Javi regrets it when you rip open your door, standing with more skin on show than he’s ever seen. Your privacy is covered by the thinnest pieces of black lace possible—lace that would be easy to snap, to rip from you as he drags his eyes up and down.

Unable to think; unable to process—

“I overslept.”

“…Bonita…”

“I am running late.”

“I can see that.” 

You jab him, light, making your body twist as you do. Something he can’t tear his eyes from, least of all when you turn, his feet following. It’s autopilot as he shuts your door behind him, not hearing another person—the anger and jealousy simmering at knowing you’re alone. 

You’re just… in your underwear. 

Around him. 

“Arepas.”

“What?” you call out, bending down, grabbing clothes as he averts his eyes. 

His brain forces his feet to come to a stop, his hand adjusting himself as he tries to swallow. Because whatever he’d imagined you’d look like, has just been beaten—you’re… fucking gorgeous. 

“Nothing,” he manages, staring around your place. Finding a bottle of half-drunk wine on the desk—sat beside one glass. “You had a fun night without me?” 

You laugh, turning to face you, finding you with trousers on. “I… I’m struggling to sleep… here.” 

He can relate. 

“How was Gabby?” 

He pulls a face, wiping a hand over his face. “Yeah—she’s fine.” 

You fasten your blouse, moving towards him, closer and closer, until you’re in front of him, and his mind is fucking blank. 

“You’re standing over my shoes, Javi.” 

It shouldn’t stick to him—your words. But they do. How they’re sickly sweet, how they clag and cling to the edges of his mind as he tries to concentrate. He’s typing, and then he’ll replay it, fingers pausing on the heavy keys of the typewriter. 

Fuck. 

Not able to tear his fucking eyes off of you. Not that you have noticed. You barely look his way with the mountain of shit Messina’s given you to do in one day. Hammering down on you, reminding them all they can’t make mistakes—more so since the toilet debacle. The heaviness of how close they’d been weighed on them. All of them.  

So close. 

He watches you stand up, calling after someone as you do a little run in your heels until there’s none of you left to watch. Staring at where you’d been, somehow still flickering between seeing you the way he saw you this morning and the well-put-together version just in here. 

“What’s up with you?

“Nothing.”

Steve snorts, leaning against the wall. “Y’sure?”

“Yeah.”

“‘cause you look like—“

“She answered the door in her fuckin’ underwear.”

Steve widens his eyes, pulling out his cigarettes. “And that’s something you’ve not seen before?”

He glares. Chewing a retort as he furiously stubs out his cigarette. 

“Alright, so, now what?”

“I have no fucking idea.” 

“Your word come in use?” 

He shoots another glare, watching his partner hold his hands up. 

“Not fucking helping, Murphy.” 

“The fuck you mean she was sent to take some papers?” Him storming out of the building, hearing Murphy close behind. Not thinking. Thumb brushes over his fingers as something surges through him. Thumping. Building. Pushing past people, moving out of the way from the ones he comes into contact with, stepping out into the warm air as he sees hell. Men bleeding, carried by other men. His heart in his throat, furiously pounding, unsure where to start, where to go— Then he sees you.  Time slows, people coming to a halt as he watches you and his feet begin to move. His hands guide him past people, walking and walking until he pulls you close—not caring for the blood on his shirt from your head, or the way you whimper when you crash into him.  He meets your eyes, staring into them, finding his throat dry as he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “Arepas.” “Arepas…” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder. 

When it rains, it pours. 

It’s what he thinks as he sinks another glass, elbowing digging into the desk, all set to shout at Messina to leave him alone, suspecting she had returned. 

But then, he’d seen you. 

Face lit up by the yellowing light, a softness to your features and a shyness to your frame. 

Javi isn’t sure what he’s expecting. Whether the guilt would shift at the sight of you, whether the sadness would stop laying on thickly. 

For a second, nothing happens. 

He doesn’t move. You don’t move. 

And then he’s standing, and you’re crossing the room, pulling him close, hands around him as you keep him close. It’s friendly, he thinks—suspects. A simple hug. Something the two of you have done only a handful of times, but twice so recently. 

In the fog of regret and alcohol, he can barely convince himself, his grip on it lost when you’re in his lap. His face in your neck, bathed in you—the distinct scent which clings to some of his clothes, the warmth he feels when he knows he shouldn’t. 

It’s easy, simple—and also everything. 

Shards of himself held in place by your grip on him, his own hand placing the glass down so he can clutch you that much tighter. 

It isn’t him. A thing he’s acutely aware of, yet he buries his face into your neck. Breath dancing along your neck, feeling you still, wondering if you’re thinking the word as he is when you pull back, eyes meeting his. 

“Oh, Javi…”

He chews his tongue, lessening his hold on you. Allowing you to move—giving you free rein to leave. 

“Messina send you?” 

You stand, tilting the bottle beside the glass, staring at the label. Your silence fills the gaps, finding the cracks of regret and guilt, layering itself thickly in it. 

Answer me, he thinks. Almost wanting to command it. 

“Boni—“

“No,” you say, curt, sharp. 

Your eyes dig in, taking a step back, running the back of your hand over your forehead. 

“Didn’t… I haven’t even seen her.” 

He could speak, but it would be useless. No words can conjure that would make any of it okay—heaviness adding in bulk to his shoulders as he stands. Making his legs feel like jelly and his spine wanting to bend. 

And then, he’s walking towards you, your back meeting a wall as he presses you against the wall, keeping you close. Just like you were minutes ago. 

He traces the tip of his nose against your cheek, catching the scent of your perfume. Your eyes are on him, watching his movements as he places his hand on your hip. 

“Arepas…”

He snorts, pressing his forehead softly against yours. “You want me to stop, bonita?” 

Your lips twitch, eyes flicking. 

A thousand thoughts dashing and darting in the shades he has memorised. Then you’re moving closer, mouth delicately pressing against his—testing, teasing. Saying no wordlessly.

It’s easy to return it, to give in—to kiss you like he has thought about since your name fell from your lips. A  thousand missed moments and building will-they-won’t-they slamming into the both of you. 

It’s why it shifts, his mouth not being gentle, his grip more desperate. His tongue sliding past your teeth, your hips flush against his as you curl your fingers into his hair. 

He’s on fire. Scorched. Changed. 

Flashes of you standing in the doorway in your underwear blending with the feel of you right now, how your lips move against his like the two are you well-versed in kissing one another. 

“Dreamt about you, bonita.” 

You murmur at his words, whimpering at his teeth, latching on the space under your lobe and neck. 

“Thought of the sounds I’d make you make….”

“Fuck, Javi...” 

Your nails dig into his neck, pulling and twisting him so you can marry your lips back to his. You kiss him like you want to conquer him, and own him. Something you’ve done since the moment you met—something he responds with how he licks into your mouth. Just pausing at your moan, tasting it—capturing it.

Your lips part as you clutch his cheek, breath ghosting as he lets dark brown wash over you. “I’m here. I’m here, Javi.” 

He knows what you mean, what you’re implying: I’m here, you need someone, I’m yours. 

The sound of him swallowing sounds louder, sharper—even against his ears as he flicks his sight over you. You’re better than it, better than him. You’re too good, too perfect—something he doesn’t want to break, snap or ruin. 

Sometimes, you’re the only thing that feels untouched, unblemished. You were the one who saw him after he’d gotten back from the brothel. When Carillo…

He blinks, finding your fingers still on his cheek, eyes still on him—but he’s unsure if he’s misheard you. Misunderstood. 

You don’t do quick fucks.

But you’re clever. You’re always fucking clever. Kissing him, hooking a finger in a belt loop, pulling him flush. As you show him that you mean it. 

“Need you, Javi. Just you.” 

He growls, moving you to push you down on the awkward, creaking bed. He watches dumbfounded as your fingers begin to aid the removal of your clothes. Exposing skin, inch by inch, to him—looking every bit inviting as you have done since the first day he fucking met you. 

Throwing your trousers to some distant corner, he parts your knees with his waist, pushing the damp green lace to the side, as he coats his finger in your want. 

“Javi…” 

“You suit green, bonita.” 

He eases a finger in, watching your mouth part as he does. 

“But, I can’t stop picturing that black set.”

“Like it, did you?” 

It’s breathy, desperate. Your lips ghost over his as he stiffens, pausing his ministrations, needing to look you in the eyes.

“It’s all I’ve thought about since, bonita.” 

Leaning over, he captures your moan, sliding in another finger as his name vibrates against his lips. Your eyes are so full of adoration, lust and want—it almost shatters him—but it’s the desperation that coils around him. The neediness which is falling from your lips makes him want more. 

He’s thorough, listening to your whines, finding each place inside you that makes you twitch and moan. He’s learning you, studying every inch, so he can please you from the get-go—if he ever gets the chance again. 

It’s his knuckle that undoes you the first time, rolling quick circles around the bundle of nerves which has fingers in his hair and your breath against his cheek. 

Javi, fuck—you, Javi, you. 

His breathing is shallow when you come down, feeling your hands—shaky but determined—tugging him to join you in being naked, his hand grabbing the one thing he needs outside of you. 

“Wanna taste you, but need to fuck you, bonita. Can I? Can I fuck your pretty pussy?” 

You groan, kissing his jaw and his neck. A chorus of yes and pleases bless his skin as his teeth rip the wrapper, fingers expertly sliding it over his length to not waste time. 

And then, your fingers leave bruises as you tug on his chin, pulling his eyes to you. A thought rolls, building; Tell me I’ve not ruined this. That I’ve not fucked up another thing. 

“Yours, Javi. I’m yours.”

His hand clutches your cheek, fingers pressing against your ear and hairline as you nod. His mouth smothers yours, stealing a moan, air and whatever thoughts were trying to populate. He does so as he lines himself up with you, when you wrap him in warm bliss. 

Your fingers on his shoulders, digging in, please move, Javi. And then, his hips move with yours, something swelling inside of him, a thing which makes it hard to stop kissing you, to ever want to stop being between your thighs—

He doesn’t usually fuck like this. 

It starts that way, but never ends that way—and yet here he is. Never with them on their backs, eye to eye, lip to lip. But then, you’ve never been them. You’re nothing like them. 

And he won’t move, can’t. He slides his tongue past your teeth and grips your hip that bit tighter as he feels your walls grip him desperately. 

“Feel so good, Javi—y’fuck me so good.” 

He knows. 

Knows because you’re fucking heavenly—perfection sent just for him. Something he whispers into your lips, lets you taste it as he feels you getting closer and closer. 

Then he just hears you. And the sound is prettier than his mind could ever conjure.

Just feels you. And it's better than he ever thought it could feel.

Then, there's nothing else, until he feels pleasure—until it’s white light and your name spluttering from his lips. Your hands in his hair, hips slowing with his as his lips sloppily find yours.

“We should talk.” You frown, looking over your desk as he leans both palms down. “Bonita… we had sex.”  “A few times, if I recall.”  “You… you seem rather calm about this?”  You smirk, lifting your mug to your lips. “Should I not be?”  He’s silent, uncharacteristically so. Never short of words, not with you. “Javi, I almost fucking died… then Carrillo… I-I needed… I just needed you.”  “Bonita…” “I don’t need pity. Do not worry. I’m not expecting anything, I know you, I’m not complicating this, and I’m not asking to change you. I like you as you are, and I know for you, last night for you was just a one-night thing—”  He whispers your name, wrapped in confusion and surprise— Your hand pats his chest, “—and I’m off to the funeral. Please try not to drown yourself in whiskey while I’m gone.”  “You know I’m not going...” Smiling, you let your fingers linger on his shirt button, twisting it. “You don’t do funerals—it was one of the first things you told me.”  Letting your hand drop before you walk away, leaving him with his thoughts. 

It unravels. 

Looking every bit like the day he’d been running around the ranch, knocking into the table beside his momma’s armchair, watching in horror as spools of cotton spread out. They ran uncontrollably away, undoing in a fit of rainbow shades and mess. It had taken him an age to fix, fingers raw from cotton against his fingers. 

That’s what it was like now—except he wasn’t sure he could fix it.  

If anything, he knows he can't.

He realises it when he tells you. A wave of disappointment ascended and crashed in your eyes until you looked at him with an expression painted in worry. It makes him want to kiss it from you, but your hand brushes his cheek—keeping him where he was, close but not too close. 

Don’t… What? Worry about you? Yeah, I don’t… I don’t deserve it.  Tough, Javi. I’ve worried about you since the moment you bought me food truck food and told me I had sauce on my chin.  Why's that? You just seemed like someone who I needed to worry about.

He wanted to kiss you differently then. Softly—gently. Almost greedily. Show you the words he wishes he could say easily. Let you feel how much he adores you, how much he cares, that he even wants to…  

Javi doesn’t. 

His brain too quick to remind him that you deserve solid truths, not hopeful lies. Tells himself that he’s anything with him will end in ruin, evidenced by the way things keep crumbling, the grip on helping having become closer to hurting. 

He tries to build walls to keep you out, ones you chip out with more force than he bargained for. Your nails pulling at bricks, eyes burning through gaps: Do not keep me out, Peña. 

So he stops. The energy wasted, even if he wants nothing but to protect you. Doing poorly at it—so much so he doesn’t realise you’re even swept up in it. Not in the moments where he comes find you for a moment of reprieve in the swirling hurricane he created.

You look like shit. Tell me how you really feel, bonita. Javi... I'm fine. You're not. No, I'm not.

He could kick himself when he realises it.

Only seeing it when he returns to the base, stopping short of your desk and finds it bare. No mug. No papers. No little notes you write yourself so you never forget a thing.

Bare. Empty.

There's no scent of your perfume and the air is absent of your laugh.

You had always found him, whether in his room, in a cupboard, at his desk. But, he hadn't thought to look for you today. Just put it aside, suspecting he'd find you later.

"Shit."

Sweat pools at the base of his back as he heads to Messina's. Hating himself, wondering if you'd been questioned. He'd never even tried to make sure you were okay with the knowledge of what he had done, what he continued to do in an effort to fix it. 

I’m here, Javi. I'm yours, Javi. 

He knows you are a part of the fallout when he sees Stechner behind Messina's desk.

It confirming it. Almost wanting to cut him off from saying your name—not wanting to hear it from his lips. Stechner says it anyway, as though knowing. Purposefully adding more poison to it and accompanying it with a cold smirk. One which almost makes him grip the man by the arm and land his fist in his teeth. 

You should have stayed in your lane…

Everything tightened inside of him. While everything around him crumbled, slowly crashing down: the walls, the ceiling—the pretence.

It makes his blood run cold, his heart crack right in the centre.  

Ambassador wants to see you. Get your passport. 

Tightening his jaw, he hammers his feet up the stairs, taking them two by two. Needing his room, needing a moment.

His hand rubbing over his face, mind populated with memories—ones both good and bad. Your voice swirling around them. Your smile, your laugh, all appearing before they burst, showering him in a mess of confetti he’ll never be able to clean. One he doesn’t want to, if they all he has left of you. 

He tries to think of his passport. Where it could be. The location of it in the mess of his room—trying not to wonder, worry or think about where you are. What his mess has done to you. 

Opening the door, he comes to a halt when he finds both standing in the centre of the room. 

Time comes to a stop. His heart pausing mid-slam into his ribs, the pain rippling out, as he takes you in. Watching your fingers and hand slowly rise, holding not one, but two passports, letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Hi.” 

He lets the door shut behind him, suddenly able to breathe. The weight, the one crushing him for ages, finally stepping up from him, allowing air to fill his lungs, allowing his chest to rise and fall as you softly smile. 

“Bonita… what… how?” 

“I handed my notice in… Messina, she knew about—she advised me, said it would buy me more time. It did—has. Stechner—” 

It takes three strides—three—and even those felt long before his lips crashed into yours, silencing you, not wanting your pretty lips to ever mouth his name. Feeling your hand, the one clutching the passports, against his shoulder and the other on his hip. Pulling him in, wanting him—even still. 

He feels like he’s dreaming, until you bite his lip. Smirking against his lips as the two of you part. The feel of it bringing him back to earth, trying not to overthink it and let the moment ruin.

Javi just holds you—like he should have done earlier this morning when he'd seen you, and from the very beginning.

Pulling you close as he humanly can, for as long as he’s able to. Doing so selfishly until both of you are just staring at one another, the gap so thin between you, you’re not all in focus.

“Ask me.”

His knuckles slide along your cheek, knowing what you’re implying. Something coiling at what you’re suggesting—something he’d thought about days ago. Regretted not asking minutes ago… 

“Javi.” Your fingers wrapping around his chin. “Ask me or let me go….” 

Clearing his throat and licking his lips—sighing. 

Wanting to. Nothing compelled him more. But the wounded part, the one which is sore and raw, tells him not to. To put distance, space, time—and fucking everything else—between you both. 

To protect you. To love you from afar. 

“Be with me.”

Smiling, you whisper, “Please?” 

“Please,” he adds, a light smirk threatening to spill. 

You let your fingers slide over it, the little crease at the end of the hair on his upper lip. “I’m yours, Javi. All yours.” 

“You have to know what that means, bo—”

“I already know,” you cut him off, fingers dancing along his cheek. "I don't care."

an: thank you for reading, feel i should apologise for the length ha!

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Back to me 🖤

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N: a lil Leon lovey dovey piece. I cannot express how much I love him and I would give him the world if I could. Enjoy!

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: LEON APPRECIATION. so much fluff, kinda angsty, but nothing bad :), back kisses <3 much needed comfort for our favorite agent.

Word count: 1.5k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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Clouds. That's what your bed felt like. Your sheets felt like laying on the softest and most delicate rose petals. A warm and fuzzy feeling bloomed in your chest, slowly and gently crawling all the way to your cheeks. Your lips were stretched into an adoring smile. It was all because of him, no doubt.

Leon had returned from a mission, a week ago by now, and you just couldn't stop looking at him. Admiring the view, if you will. Hunnigan and yourself had planned your asses off trying to get him a month off of work. He needed a break, in all honesty. Not that he would ever admit that, let alone ask for one. Apparently, he didn't notice how the bags under his eyes would darken, how his movements became sluggish and clumsy or how he would shoot awake from nightmares every other night.

Maybe he did notice, and he just ignored it. Hoped to wish it all away, think it out if existence if he tried hard enough. He didn't know his limits. You'd think someone in his field would, but he didn't. But you noticed. And it broke your heart every single time to see him become a shell of the man you loved. All because he never took a break, in fear of seeming weak. Utter nonsense.

So, you'd arranged for him to not be bothered by work. Not a text, a call, whatever it was, it was put on hold for now. He needed some time for himself. For you. It wasn't healthy, being in a constant state of fear, stress and adrenaline. A constant state of survival. He didn't need to do that when he was with you.

You wished he would quit that damn job of his, sometimes. It was eating at him, breaking from the inside out, albeit so slowly he had yet to notice. You would have that talk with him another time, for now this was all you could do. And you would do it gladly. Pamper and spoil him to his hearts content. Although it was more to yours, truly.

You watched him move from the bathroom, just having gotten ready for bed, to the dresser in your shared bedroom. His pajama pants sat so nicely on his hips, hugging his thighs and ass perfectly. Your gaze wandered farther upwards, to his exposed back.

He was rummaging through a drawer for one of his shirts, you'd stolen a plethora of them but always made sure to return them to their rightful place. You watched as the muscles in his back flexed and tensed in various ways as he dug around for the piece of clothing.

"What're you looking for, Baby?" You called softly from your place on the bed. His rummaging didn't stop as he leaned further into the drawer. "My Linkin Park shirt.." he mumbled. You could practically hear the way his brows were scrunched together and the slight frown that sat on his lips. "Bottom left corner."

He stopped, but then followed your instructions and, sure enough, with one reach of his hand he had found what he was looking for. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He felt the fabric, it was soft. It didn't feel like it was freshly washed, though.

You'd probably worn it a couple of times before he came home. He liked it when you did that. The shirts wouldn't be as stiff and scratchy, they'd be soft on his skin, accompanied by your smell. Your perfume, your shampoo, your body wash, he loved it. It comforted him, made him feel safe.

Leon sat down on the edge of the bed, shirt in hand. Your eyes fell to his bare back again. He was so incredibly beautiful, what a shame he didn't know it. A butterfly can't see its own pretty wings, after all. You crawled over the bed, settling behind him on your knees. His head was slightly leaned forward, he was probably checking his phone. Another habit you'd yet to somehow get out of him. Checking his phone for texts or calls from work in precisely timed intervals didn't really help your cause of trying to get him out if his work life for once.

You watched the relaxed muscles in his back, the soft and perfect skin being decorated by a multitude of moles and faint scars. Reaching out, you gently ran your fingertips across them. They told so many stories, his stories, and you loved each and every one. Leon sighed as he lightly leaned into your touch. Your hands moved along his shoulder blades, over the back of his neck, down his shoulders and across his upper arms before they settled on his waist. "I love your back.." you muttered, starting to place gentle kisses everywhere you could. He stiffened for just a second before fully melting into you.

The grip on his phone loosened, slipping out of his hand and clattering to the floor. "I love every scar, every mole, all of it." You continued between kisses. You trailed your declarations of love upwards, all the way to his neck before peppering kisses over the skin there, too. Leon sighed and let his head tip to one side, giving you even more of a canvas to paint your work of art on.

Your hands now snaked from his waist to his stomach, wrapping your arms around him. "I love you." You whispered with a final kiss, pressing your face between his shoulder blades. "I love you too, sweetheart." He replied softly, caressing your hands that were splayed on his stomach. "You gonna let me put my shirt on?" He asked, an amused tone to his voice. You let out a displeased grumble, tightening your grip on him. "Fine.." you mumbled, quickly placing some more kisses on his back before pulling away.

The chaste touches of your soft lips made a shiver run down his spine. It felt so good to finally be back with you. And three more weeks of this? God, how did he even get a whole month off? He was excited to spend so much time with you. The first week, you had spent in bed all day, ordering take out when needed and cuddling. The second week, you'd meet some family and friends, maybe go on a cute date or two. The third week would be spent in a luxurious hotel by the beach.

He couldn't wait for that. It's been God knows how long since he'd been to the beach. The last week, you'd spend in bed all day, again, enjoying each other's company and warm embrace. He really could get used to this.

Leon pulled the shirt over his head, to your dismay, covering his sculpted body. You scooched back on the bed, laying down so he could rest on your chest. "C'mon, Lee." You smiled at him softly, motioning for him to join you in the paradise that was your soft pillows.

He didn't decline, of course, and promptly crawled over to you before laying on top of you. It was the perfect position for the two of you. Leon could use your plush boobs as his personal pillow, breathing in your scent while also holding you.

You, on the other hand, had the comfort of his weight on top of you and you had free access to his back, caressing and gently tracing patters on it as you pleased. He let out a content sigh once he'd settled in, perfectly fitting on top of you.

You pressed a kiss to his blonde locks, gently running your fingers through them before they found their way back to his back. "What was that supposed to be?" He muttered against your chest. A soft chuckle left you. "Your good night kiss, love."

"That won't do." Leon grunted, getting up on his elbows to place a loving kiss on your lips. You sighed into the kiss, gently grabbing his face. He pulled away and smiled at you drowsily, adding, "That's better." before moving back to his former place on your chest. "Okay, good." You replied softly, smiling down at him as you, too, could feel sleep getting to you.

"I love you so much, Baby." He slurred, nuzzling closer to your warm body. "I love you so much too, Honey." You sighed, relaxing against him. Would you wake up like this? Probably not. The pair of you were quite the turners at night. You'd probably change from this position to one on your sides, your arms wrapped around eachother while your face was pressed into his back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Leon would probably pull you into his arms at one point in the night. You would wake up with your arms wrapped around one another, facing eachother, lips almost touching as his warm breath fanned over your face. He would pull you from your slumber with hungry kisses, pressing his lips wherever they could reach. Every bit of exposed skin would get the gentle touch of his lips as he trailed them down your body.

Looks like it would be a breakfast in bed kind of day.

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I just want to love him :(

[charminglyantiquated]

Nautilus update! I’ve written more in-depth about all of this on the gofundme page and our social media, so I won’t get into the nitty gritty detail here as well, but I wanted to share the news here, for anyone wondering how things are going! Under a cut because it’s long, but tl:dr is we're moving forward, and we'll be okay.

Good news first: The owner of another local sailing company had put one of their boats up for sale the same week as the accident, and after the surveyors told us to expect the worst, he got in touch. She’s now ours, and we’ll be sailing again next summer! We were lucky enough to work on her in the past, and her previous owner wanted has told us he’d initially meant to offer her to us at the end of this season. With a working boat, we can keep our company going, which in turn means we have a means of making money that still allows us the flexibility to work on repairs, and deal with matters in the shipyard as they arise. (The marina also had a multi-year wait for commercial boats, so we were worried about what would happen if we had to bow out for a few years!) We're extraordinarily lucky and so, so grateful - this literally would not have been possible without the fundraiser, and the safety net it gave us, and the way our whole community has supported us. Without exaggeration, it changed our lives. I will never be able to fully express how grateful I am.

Nautilus is written off as a loss, which we've been expecting. They offered us the chance to buy her as salvage, which we obviously accepted. So insurance wrote us a payout for what she’s insured for, plus reimbursement for getting her hauled and towed, less the value of her as salvage. Because she’s a loss, we have to pay off the loan that we took out this spring to buy her. After that's done, we'll have enough left over from the payout check to launch the new boat next spring (insurance/marina fees/haul and tow) which in turn leaves us free to use the proceeds of the fundraiser to make a start on repairs this winter! In the meantime our insurance is pursuing subrogation: essentially (as I understand it) after paying us out of their pocket, they are going after the other insurance for reimbursement. If we do see any lost income, it would be through this process, but we’ve been told several times it will take months - we don’t know if that means ‘december’ or ‘next august’, and don’t know how much, so we’re crossing our fingers but not making any plans around it. The crisis point was these last two months, and honestly the fundraiser got us through it - now we have our feet under us again, it would definitely be welcome but our stability and livelihood isn't hanging on it, so we can afford to wait.

Repairs - rough estimate from the survey is $83k, but half of that is labor costs. We can do much of the labor ourselves, which should lower it a bit. There are obviously areas where we'll need experts (welding!!), but we have the skills for a lot of what has to be done. Right now we’re getting the boats covered for cold weather, picking up some odd jobs around the shipyard, and clearing room in the woodshop to build a new main mast - that’s the project this winter! We are also going to start tearing up the teak deck to access the damaged fiberglass below, and figure out what, if anything, can be salvaged from the wreck of the mast/rigging (the jib furler sheared in half, but the sail itself made it out with only four small, easily patched punctures! Which is frankly a miracle, given how it was literally jammed through the mast). Anything that seems sound will be checked over by an expert, and a lot of it might still be too stressed to safely use, but after months of looking at the wreck of the thing, it’s honestly just a relief to be able to go through and start taking pieces apart.

Tl:dr is we’re going to be okay. Money is tight, we’re living with family and working 6 days a week, but we’ll be on the water sailing again in May, our company will survive, and we’re hoping to have Nautilus fixed in two or three years. Just wanted to share that with you all; I'm really glad to finally have some good news to offer. It's not easy but it's better, and we're going to get through it, pretty much 100% because of everyone who has been so kind to us both. Thank you all so, so much for every single kind word and share and donation. I am never going to be able to say how much it has meant to me, and what a difference it has made. I won’t be posting much more about it on here now that we're back on our feet, but if anyone wants to keep updated, detailed news about Nautilus repairs will go on the gofundme page, and our instagram will have lighter posts about both boats, repairs, and the 2025 season.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Crossed Lines

Some things are better left unsaid.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??, injury, I'm sorry for this one don't hate me

Length: 3k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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You never really thought of Jungkook as the jealous type- and maybe you're interpreting his foul mood entirely wrong too.

But you've got a feeling that his clear displeasure is mostly due to the very tall and very charismatic Alien who's been all over you ever since you woke up.

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't need help eating her food, Jin." Jungkook growls, eyes a vibrant green with a little red swirling around sometimes, as he watches you on the lap of the tall Alien currently feeding you. Jungkook's arms are crossed and he honestly looks ready to tear someone's throat out- and while you're still learning what the colors of his eyes might mean, you're starting to somewhat connect certain colors with certain feelings.

"Pah, just let me enjoy this before you take her away again!" The man named Seokjin whines, pulling you a little closer. "I can't believe you found such a sweet thing.. you don't even want her, just leave her here with me!" He complains, and Jungkook's eyes turn a little hotter in color, orange burning bright as his anger seems to rise. Why that might be you're not sure- you don't understand why he's not letting you stay here either. Seokjin seems like a nice person, and Yoongi, a cat-like Alien who'd taken care of you while you were resting, told you that the three of them are all very good friends. So why did Jungkook suddenly change his mind?

"Shut up." Jungkook barks under his breath, turning his face away. "…she can stay if she wants to. Who cares." He mumbles more or less, and at that, your heart skips a little uncomfortably. In a way, you knew he wanted to get rid of you sooner or later- but to hear it too, makes it all the more real. Maybe deep down, that small hidden innocence in you had thought he was warming up to you- but maybe that was just your imagination after all.

So you shrug, and look down at your plate of food, shaking your head when Jin offers you another piece to eat.

"I can't believe that you're worse than me, Jeon." Yoongi says, shaking his head in disappointment. "That was mean, even for my standards." He mentions from his spot near the only window in the small metal shed Jin lives in, his tail swaying a little. "Humans are sensitive. You can't just say things like that." He says, before he adjusts his position, crossing his legs.

Jungkook however just scoffs, and refuses to look at you.

You truly want to say something, but your voice just comes out horribly strained, making you cough- so you just leave it, trying to clear your throat, as Seokjin holds the inhaler you got from Yoongi to your lips.

Only that the hand is.. tattooed?

One look upwards and yes, there he is- it's actually Jungkook who acted so fast, eyes a slightly stressed pale blue, as he carefully helps you use the plastic container with the medicine inside, face a mix of worry and annoyance. You just let him, for now- and decide that maybe, this is his actual issue. You're now sick, you're gonna use up a lot more resources, let alone the cost of your medicine and everything. You're no use for him, only baggage.

Jungkook sighs, sits back down before he puts the inhaler away into his canvas bag. "If she wants to stay, she can, I guess.." He says, crossing his arms again. "If she wants to come with me, she can. It's whatever." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs to himself, while Seokjin chuckles.

"Well, I guess that's as much of an invitation as you'll get, little thing." He shrugs, looking down at you.

And this time, you don't feel like running after Jungkook like a lost dog.

So you just quietly shrug, and eat the rest of your meal.

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You're still hiding in Seokjin's bedroom, upset and saddened by the fact that Jungkook is truly preparing to leave you behind, when you hear someone walk through the pearl curtain that disconnects the bedroom from the main living area of the little house. "Here." He mumbles, throwing something on the bed- a plastic box, a rubber band around it to keep it shut, you guess.

You don't react, but you hear him sigh, as he sits down on the mattress, bed dipping down a little under his weight. "At least look at it, so I know I didn't buy the wrong shit." He huffs, and you roll your eyes, before taking the scratched up box, pulling the rubber band from it. And inside-

-are two, different colored knitting needles, a small pair of scissors, and two balls of grey, thick yarn.

"So?" He urges, and you can hear him play with the keychain in his hand a little. Is he nervous? Or just impatient?

What is he really thinking about you?

Why did he buy this, if he didn't at least mildly care about you?

You turn around towards him, and tap his shoulder to gain his attention- which you get, as he turns a little towards you- clearly caught off guard when you hug him. You want to see something- you need to check if your instincts are correct with this.

And when his arm- admittedly rather awkwardly- wraps around you and pats your back, you get your answer.

So you get up, put your clothes and the plastic box into a bag given to you by Jin, and stand by the pearl curtain quietly, nodding outside.

"Are you sure?" He asks, not getting up yet. "Jin's a good guy. Yoongi visits regularly, and he's got a human partner. Knows all about human health." He explains. "I mean, the planet's climate sucks, but it's at least somewhat peaceful." He says, and you just roll your eyes, and cross your arms. "..guess that's a no." He sighs to himself, though you don't miss the warmth in his eyes as he gets up, and takes your bag from you, walking out to say goodbye to Yoongi and Jin- well, mostly Jin. Yoongi just.. quietly bumps his head against yours and Jungkook's, before he simply leaves.

But Seokjin? He goes in for the hug, and it's honestly a little funny how annoyed Jungkook seems at that.

"You'll have to stay in contact!" Seokjin whines. "I need to know she's okay, and that she eats well, and that she's not getting lonely, or sad, or-" He rants, and Jungkook groans, clumsily taking your hand in his to pull you closer.

"Yeah yeah whatever, I'll look after her just fine." He argues, before he turns with you to walk off- letting you wave to Seokjin for a bit, before he tugs on your hand. "Look ahead. You'll trip otherwise." He scolds, though he keeps holding your hand-

The moment you're both back on the ship, he immediately runs an entire scan of the system and Ship's interior- telling you that he doesn't trust the mechanics on this planet too much, and that he wants to make sure they didn't leave anything here that doesn't belong. What exactly he means by that you're not sure- but after noticing how he even physically searches your room for anything off, especially the camera up in the corner, you're starting to have an idea of what he meant by that.

and it feels oddly kind, the way he keeps you both connected with a surprising tender amount of strength.

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"Do you want to stay here or come with me?" He asks, and you shrug, taking a blanket from the bed with you to instead walk closer to him. "…I really made you clingy now, didn't I?" He sighs to himself, looking at you a bit annoyed- though the faint pink-ish hue of his eyes gives you hope that he's just trying to act tough, and not genuinely upset over the fact that you'd like to keep him company from now on.

If Yoongi was correct, Jungkook simply has trouble attaching himself to others- the cat alien had told you that he didn't have the greatest upbringing, and that it left him with permanent scars.

Scars that one might not be able to see, but they're still there.

"Alright, let's see.." Jungkook mumbles to himself, as he logs into his system's autopilot, taking over the controls as he reads through all the info flying past on the screen. It's impressive to you how quickly he can seem to soak up any information practically flying past him, and it shows you just how long he's probably been doing this.

Yet, now that you think of it, you're not actually sure what exactly Jungkook does for a living, besides selling cargo here and there. But then again, should you really question it? He's putting food on the table, and gives you a safe place to stay. Better not ask too many questions, you tell yourself.

So you instead sit down somewhere near the windows, studying the pictures of the faded paper instruction manual that came in the plastic box of knitting stuff- the language foreign to you, though some words seem to click in your mind. It doesn't seem too hard to do, and considering that you've tried it in the past, it's not that difficult to pick back up where you left off years prior.

And the entire time, you don't even notice Jungkook occasionally watching you, the sight of you happily occupied with your new present doing something special to him. After all, usually, to his kind-

gifting things is considered something only mates do for one another.

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"Hey- come here for a second." Jungkook says one morning, urging you a bit closer as you enter the command center where he already sits in his usual seat, though he doesn't seem as relaxed as he's been these past few days.

Your throat has been healing well, and the entire ship by now is filling with your little animal shaped knitting work- one better than the last, after Jungkook had picked up some other colors of yarn for you at one re-fuel stop. It's been a good handful of days now- and you feel like you're actually getting comfortable with the Alien. "I'll be turning course today. I'm.. gonna leave you with Jin for a while." He says, and you instantly furrow your brows in confusion, unsure what's wrong.

"Why?" You ask, voice still a bit raspy, but it at least doesn't hurt as much to talk anymore.

Jungkook just sighs, looking away. "It's not for long, just a few weeks. I'll pick you up before the seasons change-" He explains, but you won't have it.

"That doesn't answer my question." You say, clearing your throat after somewhat getting that small sentence out. He runs his hands over his face.

"It's.. urgh, fuck!" He groans out agitated, and it's honestly both funny and a little unnerving to see Jungkook so.. embarrassed.

"I'm-… It's mating season for my kind." He huffs out defeated, arms crossed. "And since you're a female, it's kind of.. distracting." He explains, and you take that info in for a second.

And Bolku people are a proud but reserved kind, only really staying in pairs, never in groups. But Jungkook doesn't quite fit the visual characteristics, apart from his eyes- so maybe he's a hybrid too?

"Oh." You simply answer, unsure what else to say. Well, you didn't really think about that- but yeah, you remember reading something about Bolku people's.. well, mating traditions, so to speak. Not really because you ever thought anything of it- it was just interesting to find anything to read back on earth, and when you stumbled upon a common book about foreign galactic humanoid variants, you read through it.

It's how you know that Seokjin must've been some sort of human-Shairo hybrid; with his tall body and caring nature, but otherwise rather human appearance. The short, thick and scaled tail gave him away, mostly, and you read in your book back on earth how his kind has a problem with gender in their kind. They're mostly male- females are incredibly rare to be born for some unknown reason.

What's interesting now however, is how the past few days and Jungkook's actions during them, change in nature to you. The gift of the knitting stuff. The blankets he kept bringing to your room. The way he'd cuddle you throughout the journey through Cryon- all of it suddenly feels odd to you now that you know he's near his kind's mating season.

Does that mean that those weren't acts of kindness? That you weren't making any progress at all? That he was just..

..acting on instincts?

"I can just stay in my room again for the time being." You shrug, and he notices the way your posture and tone change. He's become quite good at reading your body language and subtle hints here and there- be it the tone of your voice, or the way you avoid eye contact, or how you'd change topic if he was to talk about something that made you uncomfortable. And right now, it seems as if he said something that made you almost.. defensive. And he's not sure what.

"No, I don't want to.. lock you in there again." He shakes his head. "You're not a prisoner anymore. Or anything similar." He denies.

"Then what am I?" You ask, looking at him- and he can't help but feel a little called out by you.

"That doesn't matter." He responds, but that's not enough for you anymore. You've become bold- mostly because you're not scared of him any longer, and because he's slowly, unknowingly, nurtured your will to survive back to life.

"It does to me." You croak out, coughing right after, making him cringe as his eyes turn a concerned blue hue. But he knows not to try and do anything right now- you're on edge, and he feels as if he's arguing with a cornered animal right now, any wrong move or word enough to set you off.

"Then what do you want to be?" He asks instead, making you look at him with a gaze that just screams uncertainty.

You don't know what you want to be. Especially not what you want to be to him.

When you came onto his ship, you didn't care what happened to you. You'd given up, you were ready to take whatever was thrown at you- but now you actually want to live. You want to be alive, and most importantly, you want to stay with him, and stay on this ship, and stay in this little space where everything seems okay. The amount of safety you feel here has spoiled you at this point, causing you to feel protective over it.

You don't want to stay with Seokjin, no matter how sweet and kind he is. He isn't Jungkook, and he isn't this ship.

"I don't care!" You huff out at him, moving to sit in the middle of the control center, grabbing your blanket before you throw it over your head, and hiding underneath it as you sit down facing the large window, face barely exposed. "I'm staying." You growl to yourself, and Jungkook can't help the slight amusement tickling in his chest at the fact that you're starting to pick up on some of his own behaviors.

Though your growl is anything but intimidating. It's cute, but nothing dangerous at all.

"It's just for two weeks. Three at max." Jungkook sighs, turning on the autopilot before he walks closer, tip of his boot gently tapping your back. "Hey." He calls out, but you don't answer. "I'm talking to you."

"And I'm not." You respond, pulling the blanket close so he can't see you as he crouches down next to you to catch a glimpse. "You'll leave me there."

"I thought you wanted me to leave you?" He wonders in an oddly soft tone, but you can't help but feel as if this too is just his instincts, and not actually him.

"Shut up." You respond, and he laughs.

"You kind of sound like me." He tells you, sitting down in front of you with his legs crossed. "Doesn't fit you- so stop it." He argues, pulling on the blanket- but you got a steel hold of it. "Come on, stop being a brat-"

"No!" You bark out, scooting away from him a good bit.

"I'll pick you up again." He sighs. "Promise."

"Your promise is empty." You mumble, finally giving in as he manages to pull the edge of the blanket enough with his fingers to expose your face.

"How so?" He wonders, face clearly confused, and somewhat upset.

"Cause you said it!" You argue. "I'm distracting you because you're like- horny or whatever. That's not you. And when your.. mating season is over, you'll just.. leave me with Jin." You say, looking at the ground.

"How come you humans always get so horribly attached to things so easily?" He mumbles, as if he's mostly talking to himself- eyes distant as he looks at you, hands in his lap. "Attach yourself to Jin. Not me."

"Why?" You ask timidly, unsure what he's getting at. You're not even sure yourself what you're thinking of him. You don't know why you're so attached to him.

"Because he's.. a better fit." He shrugs. "He's nice. Knows human social norms, since he's partially human as well-"

"So are you though?" You ask, testing the waters, and the way he tenses up, eyes flashing a pale, unreadable color, gives you the answer you were looking for.

So he is a hybrid too.

Suddenly, his face seems angry, jaw clenched and tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he looks to the side, eyes a blazing red as he gets up and walks away. "I changed my mind." He says, tapping away on his control panel. "Go stay in your room or whatever. I don't give a shit." He growls, and for some reason, you suddenly feel guilty.

So you quietly leave, door hissing shut behind you-

before it clicks, small display near it offering only a single, pulsating message.

[Locked by Administrator]

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[the-centennial-husbands-bigbang]

We are happy to introduce you all to the Centennial Husbands' Big Bang!

We wish you a warm welcome to the Centennial Husbands Big Bang!

This is a Big Bang challenge focused around all things Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) from the Sandman comics and show, brought to you by the @mr-sadman Modteam!

Without further adue, here are all of the details!!

Our stance on plagiarism and AI 

We do not accept nor condone the use of plagiarism, including the use of AI, whether in writing or art. If you are caught using either, you will be disqualified from the current event and barred entry for the other events the Mr. Sadman team puts forward.

General Rules and Informations

Anyone is welcome to participate! 

Fear you can’t make it yet? Sign-ups for pinch-hitters will be open later during the event!

You can sign up both as an artist and a writer!! That said, we do not want you to bite more than you can chew, be careful and conscious of the event’s schedule!

Joining the Mr. Sadman discord is strongly advised, as there will be event related channels and roles available, but not required. Please make sure to give us another reliable and quick way to get a hold of you in the case that you don’t join the server/don’t use discord often!

If you are under the age of 18, you will not be able to create explicit content for the event. As a general rule, Mr. Sadman is a 16+ server, be aware of this fact!

The Mr. Sadman Modteam is a firm believer of “ship and let ship” as well as the kinktomato (https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kinktomato). As such, and in accordance with the Server’s existing rules, we will not tolerate any discrimination and harassment in any forms whatsoever. This includes : queerphobia, homophobia, racism, content policing, hate speech, doxxing, shaming, etc. 

What’s a Big Bang?

What’s a Big Bang?

Glad you asked! This is a challenge where writers come up with a 15k+ words fic and get paired with a just-as-enthusiastic artist that accompanies their written work with a piece of art! A detailed schedule spanning around 4 months will be available down this post, fear not! 

15k is a lot of words, is there any other way that, as a writer, I can participate?

There is! We are offering a beta-reader partnering system as well as a Mini Bang!

What’s a Mini Bang?

This is a challenge similar to a Big Bang where you write a piece under 15k words! Do note that the Mini Bang does not come with art like the Big Bang does!

Why does the Mini Bang don’t include art?

This is the less stressful option for writers who still want to participate in the event! Less stress for the writers and none for the artists! That said, this might be revised if an important number of artists sign up!

I don’t think my Big Bang fic is gonna reach 15k, can I downgrade to the Mini Bang?

Yes! You will be able to downgrade until December 2nd, a few weeks before drafts are due and artist pairing starts!

I think my Mini Bang fic is gonna be longer than 15k, can I upgrade to the Big Bang?

Yes! You will be able to upgrade until December 2nd, a few weeks before drafts are due and artist pairing starts!

Rules and requirements

For Writers

What are the requirements for my fic? 

Your fic must be an unpublished, completely new work! It needs to be able to stand on its own (meaning that sequels and crossovers/fusions are allowed, but your fic must be able to be read on its own!) and must meet the minimum word count requirement, which is  15k words. It is also strongly recommended for no parts of your work to have been already published elsewhere (even small snippets)!

It is also mandatory that you keep your work a secret - this is to assure an anonymous art claim process and is very important. If you talk about your work in any public way (this includes our discord server), your violation will be discussed amongst the mod team and could result in potential removal from the event!

Does it have to focus on a romantic pairing?

Not at all! Your fic can be platonic, romantic, neither or all of the above, as long as it focuses on the relationship between Dream and Hob!

Does my fic have to be beta-read?

While it is not mandatory, we strongly encourage you to use a beta reader during your writing process! Don’t have a beta reader already? We offer a beta-reader pairing system! Just make sure to fill in the appropriate section in the sign-up form to indicate that you are in need of betaing!

My friend and I want to co-author a fic, is that alright?

Hell yeah! We love collaboration! Simply make sure to indicate it on each of your sign-up forms (meaning that each one of you needs to fill a form)!! The word count requirement is still 15k (even if you are one, two, three or more, yes!) and keep in mind, though, that you will not receive more art because there are more authors!

Can I have a secondary pairing in my fic?

Yes! As long as the focus of your fic is Dream/Hob, go ham!

Can I write threesomes, foursomes, polycules?

Yes! As long as the focus of your fic is Dream/Hob, please do!!

Can I write RPF (Tom Sturridge/Ferdinand Kingsley)?

Yes! 

What can’t I write, then?

Anything is fair game as long as it is properly tagged and/or warned for! Major content warnings (such as AO3 dictates) must also be applied properly! There is only one exception to this : work depicting real life children (such as the actors’), which is not allowed.

What if I have a fic that I’ve been working on but never posted?

You can totally use it! As long as your work remains unpublished, it’s fair game!

Can I write something for NaNoWriMo and use it as my submission?

Hell yeah!! As long as it’s unpublished and meets the word requirements!!

I’m so excited for this event that I want to write two fics, is that all right?

We never say no to more cake! Please do keep in mind that you’ll still have to respect the schedule for both works at the same time!

As the author, do I have a say in what my paired artist creates?

In short : no. While we do encourage collaboration, this is not a commission process. The artist has free reign on what they want to create that is inspired by your fic. If you can write what you want, then your artist can create what they want!

Can I already pair up with an artist friend?

Absolutely! Just make sure you tell us in the sign up form!

I don’t like my paired artist and/or what my artist has created.

While this is unfortunate, your artist has spent their own energy and free time to create their piece. To dismiss them and their efforts is plain rude. The mods will not step in and give you another artist simply because you are not pleased with your match. Your artist deserves your thanks, not your ire. 

What are authors check-ins?

Be not afraid! These are mostly touch points for the modteam to make sure everyone is still on board and on schedule! That said, these are mandatory! Failure to respond to check-ins will disqualify you from participating in the current event.

What if I can’t meet a deadline?

Please make sure to inform a mod as soon as you know! Accommodations might be worked out depending on the situation. We simply ask you to be considerate to your fellow artists, it is unfair to them to back out as they had already started working on their pieces!

Where do I post my fic?

We ask you to post your story to the AO3 collection! You are free, after that, to post it anywhere else you’d like and/or prefer! There, you will also be able to embed and link to your artist’s piece(s)!

For Artists

What kind of art can I make?

Anything from traditional or digital drawing, to photomanips, fanvids, podfics, songwriting, book binding and more! We only ask you to put some effort into it, after all, your author has worked hard on their piece as well! 

A few exceptions include : playlists, icons and banners. These, while being a nice and fun bonus for your author, can’t be counted as your primary piece!

How much art do I have to make? 

You are required to make one piece of art! But if you are inspired, more are definitely welcome!

What are the minimum requirements for my art?

A minimum of 500px by 500px piece for visual pieces. A minimum of 2 minutes for digital pieces. 

*If your art doesn’t fit within these parameters, an agreement can be reached between mod, author and artist as to what could be considered equivalent/sufficient. 

How will I be able to claim a fic?

Art claims will be held from January 6th to 10th to give authors the time to complete a first draft as well as send in a summary of their work. We ask you to be readily available to answer messages during that time period as the process will be held on a “first come first served” basis. You will receive a link to the claiming form at the beginning of this period. 

Can I already pair up with a writer friend?

Absolutely! Just make sure to tell us in the signing up form!

How do I get in touch with my writer?

Fear not, the mods will place you in contact with your partner once pairing is done!

What are artists’ check-ins?

Be not afraid! These are mostly touch points for the modteam to make sure everyone is still on board and on schedule! That said, these are mandatory! Failure to respond to check-ins will disqualify you from participating in the current event.

What if I can’t meet a deadline?

Please make sure to inform a mod as soon as you know! Accommodations might be worked out depending on the situation. We simply ask you to be considerate to your fellow writers, it is unfair to them to back out as they had already started working on their pieces!

Where do I post my art?

From your designated host (whether that’s tumblr, pillowfort, etc.) so that it can be embedded into AO3! We simply ask you to use the relevant tags and link back to your writer’s story!

I’m not a writer nor an artist, but I wish to help. What can I do?

You are very welcome to join us as a beta reader! Every author has different betaing needs, but betaing ranges from cheering your author on, to making sure their grammar and spelling is tip-top! This is an event-long commitment, so make sure you know this before signing up! You are also very welcome to share any relevant information about the Big Bang and join us on Mr. Sadman for all things Sandman!!

Event Schedule

Sign-ups : September 18th to October 21rst First Check-in : October 28th Second Check-in : November 18th Upgrade/Downgrade for Mini Bang/Big Bang : December 2nd Third Check-in/First Draft+Summary due : December 22nd Holiday Pause : December 23rd to January 3rd Art claims : January 6th-10th Art Pairings Masterpost : January 11th Pinch-hitter Signups : January 29th to February 2nd Fourth Check-in : February 3rd  Pinch-hitter post : February 4th Final draft : February 25th Posting dates : March 1rst to 3rd

I want to Sign Up!!

You can fill the form and sign up here : https://forms.gle/2RwZrPNxs4Y95oLS9

I need help, how do I reach a mod?

If there is something that is not covered by our rules masterpost and/or FAQ, you are very free to DM us here, on tumblr!

We are also available on email at mrsadmandiscord@gmail.com and on discord at Mr. Sadman

That said, the dedicated mods for this event are Winter, Aria, Ches and Britt!

Have fun and keep the Dreamling on!!

[bradshawsbaby]

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You're determined to make your first married Christmas the best one yet. But when you start to overextend yourself, Bob steps in to remind you what's most important.

Word Count: 10.6k

Author's Note: Whew! The relief I feel that I was able to get this story completed before Christmas Eve! This is my contribution to @lewmagoo's A Lew Magoo Christmas challenge! It was inspired by the Stevie Wonder song, "What Christmas Means To Me." I hope you all enjoy!

(Special shoutout and thanks to @luminousnotmatter and @ryebecca for listening to me ramble when I was having a total meltdown about writing this story. I'm very thankful for you both!)

Warnings: References to being stressed during the holidays and a few brief innuendos, but it's mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

From the time he was a young boy, Bob Floyd had been cognizant of one very fascinating phenomenon—his bed never felt so comfortable or so warm as when his alarm clock was blaring in his ear, giving him a rather forceful reminder that it was time to get up and start the day. After he met you, that troubling phenomenon seemed to increase tenfold. As responsible as he was and as much as he prided himself on getting to work early each day, Bob would be lying if he said there weren’t times when he felt like chucking his alarm clock across the room and playing sick just so he could stay tucked away in bed all day, cocooned under the blankets and wrapped around your sweet warmth.

This morning, as his alarm started roaring at 7:00 on the dot, Bob let out a small grunt of protest, blindly reaching out from beneath the comforter to pound a resentful fist on the top of his alarm clock. Once it was silent, he rolled over in the bed the two of you had been sharing as husband and wife for nearly six months now and reached an arm out, fully expecting to wrap it around your soft, pajama-clad body. When he was met with emptiness instead, Bob blinked his eyes open in confusion and sat up slowly, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his vision as he grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and slipped them onto his nose, albeit a bit crookedly.

“Sweetheart?” Bob called out, frowning when he was met with nothing but the early morning stillness of your quaint little home.

Immediately, he flung the covers back and climbed out of bed, padding towards the bathroom to see if maybe you were in the shower and couldn’t hear him calling you over the sound of the running water. That theory was quickly disproven, however, when he found the bathroom door hanging open, lights off and no sounds of a shower in progress. But as he flicked on the lights, Bob discovered that you must have been in there not too long ago, for the mirror above the sink was still beaded with condensation and the bathmat had the imprint of damp footprints.

“Honey?” Bob called again, thinking maybe you’d stepped outside to enjoy your morning coffee on the front porch. Although why you’d be up this early—and showered already, too—on one of your days off from work was beyond him.

Walking into the kitchen, Bob immediately spotted a piece of festive note paper resting on the countertop. He recognized it instantly, the cream colored paper outlined with a ring of cheerful poinsettias. You’d been ecstatic when you’d found it at the dollar store a few weeks ago—"You never know when something like this will come in handy during the holidays, honey," were your exact words. But what stood out even more was your delicate handwriting etched across the paper in dark ink. Picking up the note, Bob adjusted his glasses and read the message you’d quickly penned on your way out the door.

Good morning, honey! I decided to head out early to try to hit some of the stores before they get too crazy. There’s a lot that I still need to pick up, so I’ll probably be gone most of the day. Also, Lorraine and I are going to run over to check out the venue for our staff holiday party and finalize the menu. Speaking of which, I also need to finalize the menu for OUR party, plus Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Text me if there’s anything you want me to get! Hopefully I won’t be home too late. I love you!!!

P.S. I almost forgot—I packed some lunch for you and left it in the fridge! And there’s a pot of coffee ready to brew. Have a great day!!!

He sighed softly as he set your note back down on the counter, running a hand through his honey brown hair, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he silently lamented your early departure. He could hear your voice in his head as he read your words, chuckling to himself as he pictured you quickly gulping down a cup of coffee—in your favorite Christmas mug, no doubt—and shoving a piece of half-burnt toast in your mouth before running out the door.

You absolutely lived for this time of year, and all the hecticness that the season entailed.

Bob had known, almost from the very start of your relationship, how much you adored Christmas. It was one of the things, in fact, that had made it so easy for him to fall in love with you. Seeing the way you lit up like a firefly when a Christmas song came on the radio or when your favorite coffee shop started offering peppermint-flavored drinks made Bob’s heart melt in absolute love and devotion. He had never known anyone as whimsical or as full of genuine Christmas spirit as you. And your joy was infectious—Bob had never loved the holiday season so much as he did once he started celebrating it with you.

Waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, Bob couldn’t help but grin as he glanced around the kitchen at all the decorations you’d been putting up since Thanksgiving. They gave your home a warm, cozy feeling that had nothing to do with aesthetics and everything to do with the loving care with which you’d hung them.

To Bob, every day was Christmas so long as he got to spend it with you.

Which was why he sighed again as he poured a splash of cream into his coffee mug, brows furrowing above his glasses as he considered how little he’d seen you these past couple weeks.

With both of you working full-time jobs, it made sense that you couldn’t possibly spend every waking moment together. But Bob looked forward more than anything to your routine of dinner in the early evening and then hours spent lounging in each other’s arms, talking about your days or listening to music or watching a movie together. It was a habit you had gotten into even before you were married, and it was made all the sweeter by the fact that your lives were now entwined so intrinsically.

These past few weeks, however, that routine had been seriously upended by all the hustle and bustle of the holidays. Bob knew you took this time of year seriously—and he really did love how happy it made you—but it seemed like this year more than ever, your schedule was jam-packed and filled nearly to bursting.

On top of the usual shopping that needed to get done—you bought gifts for everyone, even down to your mail carrier and the barista who made your favorite coffee—there were preparations for not one, not two, but three separate parties you had volunteered to host. First up was your staff holiday party. Your colleagues knew that no one loved Christmas more than you, and so they had unanimously nominated you to spearhead the planning, which you’d graciously agreed to, with some help from your co-worker, Lorraine. Then was the party for the Daggers and their families that you had convinced Bob it would be fun to host a few days before Christmas Eve. All of your friends couldn’t stop buzzing about it, and you were going to great lengths to make sure it was perfect. As if all that wasn’t enough, you were also going to be hosting both of your families for the holidays this year, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, and all.

“It’s our first Christmas as Mr. and Mrs. Floyd,” you’d told him one night, when he’d asked if you were really okay with all of the planning that would be involved. “I want it to be special.” Your smile when you said it warmed him from the inside out. As introverted as he could be, he’d gladly host twenty parties so long as it made you happy.

The reality, however, was that you were swamped. Every day after work, you were either running around to stores or scouring the internet for the best cyber deals or researching recipes that you wanted to try for Christmas dinner. One night, Bob had even found you making an alphabetized list of holiday games you could play at the parties.

“Are you sure you’re really okay?” Bob asked at one point, when he caught you yawning over your dinner. “I know I’ve been busy with work, but I can help more. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’m fine, silly,” you giggled, waving off his concern with a hand. “I just want everyone to have a good time.”

“They will,” he told you, resting his large, calloused hand over yours. He looked intently into your eyes, sincerity shining in the blue depths of his. “They’ll have a good time no matter what. You don’t have to make yourself sick over planning.”

You had just smiled at him and given him a kiss, but clearly you hadn’t heeded his words because now you were even using your day off to run errands, waking up even earlier than your naval aviator husband to do so.

Rinsing his empty mug out in the sink, Bob frowned as he thought of how tired you’d seemed these past few days. Your joy and your sweetness never diminished, but he could tell just from looking in your eyes how exhausted you were getting. You were overextending yourself, and he was terrified you were going to burn out before Christmas even arrived. Not being able to fully enjoy your favorite time of year would devastate you, and nothing would hurt Bob more than that.

You needed to take a day for yourself, Bob decided as he let the warm water flow over him in a quick shower. No shopping, no planning, no organizing—just a day where you actually got to enjoy all your favorite things about this season.

That idea remained buzzing around in his head as he drove to work, hanging on the periphery of his consciousness even as he spent hours flying test runs with Phoenix and the rest of the Daggers. On his lunch break, he enthusiastically hunkered down in the rec room to research some of the plans that were percolating in his mind. And by the time he drove home that evening, he was wearing a smile bright enough to rival any of the Christmas lights twinkling in your neighborhood.

The fact that you still weren’t home when Bob unlocked the front door and carefully placed his work boots on the shoe rack only further solidified his plan. As if you could somehow read his mind, his phone buzzed suddenly with an incoming text.

Are you home? I’m so sorry I’m not back yet! I’m on my way now. I picked up some dinner from that BBQ place that you like 😋

Bob’s heart squeezed with affection as he read your words. You’d been up for nearly twelve hours at this point, and you were no doubt exhausted, but you were still always putting others ahead of yourself. He typed out a quick response as he walked into the living room to turn on the lights on the Christmas tree.

Yum! Thank you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for you to get home ♥️

About twenty minutes later, just as Bob was stepping out of your bedroom after changing into a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt from his time at the Naval Academy, he heard your key jiggling in the lock and hurried to meet you.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise when your husband swung open the door before you could finish turning your key. “Hiya, honey,” you beamed, holding up the bag of take-out food you’d picked up especially for him on your drive home.

“Man, I tell you, these delivery people keep getting cuter and cuter,” Bob teased, drawing you close and taking the food out of your hands as he dropped a kiss on your lips.

“Mmm,” you giggled against his mouth, kissing him back as you felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders slowly dissipate. “Maybe this delivery girl can join you for dinner tonight,” you winked playfully, smiling when you felt Bob’s fingers lace through yours.

“I was counting on it,” he chuckled, tugging on your hand as he turned into the house.

“Oh, just give me a couple minutes, honey,” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering you’d left your car idling in the driveway, the backseat and trunk filled to the brim with your purchases of the day. “I just want to get everything out of the car.”

“Sweetheart, it can wait,” Bob insisted, glancing longingly between you and his dinner. “Your food’s going to get cold. I’ll help you unload the car after we eat.”

You bit your lip in hesitation, but finally relented when you saw the puppy dog expression on your husband’s face. “Okay, fine, let me just go turn the car off.”

A few minutes later, you and Bob were seated side by side at your small kitchen table, your legs pressing together and your fingers brushing against one another as you nibbled on wings and scarfed down some chili mac and cheese.

“How was your day?” you asked curiously, glancing up as you took a sip of water and wiped your fingers on a napkin.

You always asked that question so sincerely, even after all this time. It made him feel so seen and loved. Smiling, he rested his hand over yours and squeezed your fingers gently.

“It was good,” he said lightly, not yet ready to divulge the plans he’d been formulating all day. “You know, same old, same old. How about yours?”

“It was great!” you chirped, beaming brightly.

Bob smiled and nodded as you told him about the gifts you’d picked up for all the nieces and nephews, the menu you and Lorraine had decided on for your staff holiday party, the grab bags gifts you’d snagged for the Dagger party, the new gingerbread recipe you’d just heard about, and a whole host of other things.

“Sorry, I’m rambling,” you murmured sheepishly after you realized you’d hardly stopped for a moment to take a breath.

“It’s okay, I love it when you ramble,” Bob grinned, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, I love it even more when you taste like barbeque,” he laughed, nudging your nose with his own.

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him tenderly. Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his with a contented sigh and gazed into his eyes. “Want to go find a movie to watch while I do the dishes?” you suggested.

Bob pulled back slightly to more fully look at you, though he kept his large hands wrapped loosely around your waist. “As much as I love the sound of that plan, I think we should call it an early night tonight, honey,” he said softly, reaching up to lightly brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You look exhausted.”

You pouted slightly, but couldn’t stifle the yawn that suddenly came upon you, which made the both of you laugh. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted ruefully, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

“How about you get started on the dishes and I’ll unload everything from the car? Then we’ll head to bed, alright?” Bob asked, hyper aware of the drawn look around your eyes.

“Deal,” you nodded, giving him one more kiss as you jumped up to clear the table.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were cuddled up under the covers, the warm glow from the little battery-operated lantern you kept near the window casting a cozy feel over the room.

“Do you have any plans for Saturday?” Bob asked softly, running his fingers up and down your arm gently as you lay in his embrace. Saturday was the one day that the both of you had off, and he intended to make the most of it this weekend.

You let out a soft sigh, snuggling up further against his chest. “There are a few new recipes I wanted to try for dinner on Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I figured maybe I should test them out ahead of time, just in case they end up being a disaster. Saturday seems as good a day as any to do that. Want to be my taste tester?” you grinned, eyes crinkling as you smiled over at him.

“Uh-uh,” Bob shook his head, a slightly mischievous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at him. “Why not? You’ve got other plans?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his blue eyes twinkling, which you could see even in the dark of your bedroom. “I’m going to have a very full day.”

“Doing what?” you huffed jokingly, arching an eyebrow as you rolled onto your side, gazing at him curiously.

“You’ll find out,” Bob grinned, not letting the cat out of the bag just yet. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” you asked, clearly taken aback as your eyes widened once again. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckled, leaning over to give you a quick kiss.

“Bob!” you exclaimed, nudging him lightly with your foot.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he grinned, rolling over and closing his eyes. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as he heard you huffing softly beside him, clearly desperate to know what he was planning. Within minutes, however, he heard the sound of your breathing soften and deepen, your eyes closing in a deep slumber.

Turning back over, Bob watched you sleep peacefully and felt his heart clench inside his chest. You were going above and beyond this Christmas, and it was clearly taking its toll, whether you wanted to admit it or not. He was glad to see you sleeping so comfortably after such a long day.

You were striving so hard to make this Christmas magical for everyone else. This weekend, Bob was going to make it magical for you and remind you what this season was really all about.

Nobody deserved it more than you.

Saturday morning dawned bright and crisp, just as Bob had been anticipating. He’d been checking the forecast every day to make sure that nothing was going to interfere with his plans for today. The weather was better than he could have hoped for—the sun was shining bright, hardly a cloud in the sky, but the air had a nice winter chill as the temperature hovered somewhere between the high fifties and low sixties.

That was one of the only things you ever lamented about moving to San Diego—it was harder to make it feel like Christmas when it was still warm enough to wear shorts and go to the beach. But today’s weather, while certainly not cold by any stretch of the imagination, would at least give you an opportunity to wear one of those new sweaters you’d bought for yourself.

Grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning, Bob quietly tiptoed into your bedroom, where he was delighted to see that you were still fast asleep, buried so deeply under the covers that only the top of your head was poking out. Swallowing back a laugh, he sidled over to your side of the bed and carefully placed the treats he’d set out early to procure on your nightstand.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, gingerly taking a seat on the edge of the bed to avoid crushing you. You stirred slightly, but didn’t open your eyes, so he bent down to drop a kiss on the crown of your head, still the only part of your body exposed to the mid-morning light. “Honey, wake up,” he tried again, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

Letting out a soft hum in response, you slowly pushed the covers back and ran a hand down your face before opening your eyes halfway, peeking up at your husband through hooded lids.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bob chuckled, ducking his head to peck your lips tenderly.

“Mmm, good morning,” you replied, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched with a satisfied little groan. You were so distracted by the extremely pleasant view of your handsome husband hovering above you that it took you a moment to realize how much light was filtering in through the windows, and to catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. Gasping, you bolted upright, looking at Bob with wide eyes. “Is that really the time? I thought I set an alarm!”

It was nearly 9:45am. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in that late. Between work and all the other things you were usually running around doing, even on your days off, your internal alarm hardly ever let you sleep that long. Not to mention the fact that you normally had an alarm set. You could have sworn you had set it last night.

Bob had the grace to look a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck, gazing at you with those big blue eyes behind the frames of his adorably gawky glasses. “You did,” he began slowly, glancing guiltily at your alarm clock and then back at you. “I shut it off.”

“Bob!” you exclaimed in astonishment, uncertain what would have possessed him to do that, especially when he knew how busy you were lately. “Why would you do that?”

“You needed the extra sleep, honey,” he said in a voice so sweet and filled with concern that you couldn’t even dream of staying mad at him. Reaching out, he took one of your hands between both of his, gently rolling the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ve been running yourself ragged these past couple weeks. I wanted you to get some real rest.”

You bit your lip, averting your gaze as you silently thought about how busy you’d been lately and how exhausted you’d been feeling. You’d had three cups of coffee at work yesterday just to make it through the day.

“I guess you’re right,” you conceded, your lips curving upward in a rueful smile. “I do feel a little bit better already. Thank you, honey,” you told him, leaning forward to give him a kiss of appreciation. That was when your eyes landed on the cup of coffee and the small red-and-white striped bag on your nightstand. “Is that for me?” you gasped in delight, looking back at your husband eagerly.

“Mhm,” Bob chuckled at your open excitement, reaching for the cup and the bag and placing them in your hands.

Your very favorite coffee shop in all of San Diego, which also happened to be the spot where you and Bob went on your second date, was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall place not far from where you worked. From the outside, it didn’t seem like much to behold, but it was one of the city’s best kept secrets. Their coffee was brewed to perfection and their baked goods were a sweettooth’s dream. But what you loved most of all was the way they went all out for the holidays. The entire cafe was decked out in garland and bows and twinkling lights, Christmas music pumped through the speakers all day long, and their menu reflected everyone’s seasonal favorites.

At this time of year, your go-to order was a large peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream and a gingerbread scone that you swore you wanted to be your last meal on this earth. Bob had gotten to the cafe just in time that morning to get a scone fresh out of the oven.

“Oh my gosh, it’s still warm,” you sighed happily, the spiced molasses melting on your tongue as soon as you popped it into your mouth. You closed your eyes in bliss, washing it down with a sip of the peppermint mocha. “Thank you, honey. This is such a sweet surprise.”

“The first of many, I hope,” Bob smiled, resting a hand on your thigh as you enjoyed your breakfast in bed. “I have lots planned for you today, Mrs. Floyd.”

“You do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of your coffee cup.

He nodded, his smile only growing wider. “Don’t you remember what I said the other night? We’ve got a lot to do today. So as soon as you’re done enjoying your breakfast, you better hop in the shower. We don’t want to be late,” he told you, his gorgeous baby blues sparkling as he rose from the bed and started towards the door.

“Wait!” you cried,  jumping out of bed with your coffee and scone still firmly in hand. “What are we doing?” you called after him, chasing behind him in bare feet. “Bobby!”

“You’ll find out,” he laughed, turning around and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Just wear something comfortable,” was all the information he gave you.

You sighed in a purposely dramatic fashion, shooting him a playful glance. You knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to tell you anything else, so there was no use in trying to get the information out of him. Instead, you quickly gulped down the rest of your coffee and finished off your scone—still trying to savor every bite—before tearing off your pajamas and jumping into the shower.

An hour later, you were ready to go, dressed in a cute pair of jeans and a new red and white sweater you’d just recently purchased. The weather today finally gave you an opportunity to wear it.

“Is this alright?” you asked Bob as you stepped into the living room, holding your arms out at your sides. It was hard to know what to wear when you had no idea what you were doing.

“It’s perfect,” Bob nodded, smiling as he rose from the couch and took in your appearance. “Just like you,” he added, winking as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you giggled, resting your hands on his broad chest. He was wearing a dark green crew neck sweater and dark jeans that fit his long figure exquisitely. “Now are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Bob just shook his head, laughing out loud when you released a groan of exasperation. “Patience, my sweet wife,” he teased, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the front door. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You really hadn’t been sure what to anticipate when you climbed into the car with Bob. As many guesses as you tried to make to figure out what his plans were, your husband’s expression was impenetrable. He didn’t give anything away, no matter what you said.

What you hadn’t been expecting was to pull into the parking lot of Petco Park.

As soon as Bob put the car in park, you glanced over at him curiously, trying to figure out what you were doing here. Your husband wasn’t a big baseball fan. And even if he was, it was the middle of December.

“I’m guessing we’re not here for a Padres game?” you ventured with a playful smile, glancing around the crowded parking lot.

Your husband laughed, shaking his head. “Not exactly. Come on,” he told you, climbing out of the car and hurrying around to the passenger side to open your door.

Slipping your hand into his, you followed his lead as he guided you through the milling crowd towards the entrance to the baseball stadium. He seemed almost giddy as the two of you got closer and closer to the park, glancing down at you every few seconds as if to check that you were still with him. You had no idea what was awaiting you, but his excitement was infectious and you found yourself buzzing with anticipation.

You weren’t disappointed.

As soon as Bob handed over your tickets to the attendant, you were swept up in the crowd of people surging towards Gallagher Square, where you were met with a breathtaking display of Christmas beauty.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, coming to a halt as you stared, wide-eyed and in awe of the beautiful market that surrounded you.

“Do you like it?” Bob asked, a thread of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you, watching the way you were silently taking everything in.

Turning to face him, your face split into a huge grin and you threw your arms around him, peppering his cheek with kisses. “I love it! It’s so wonderful!”

It was as close to a German Christmas market as you had ever come, with vendors of all kinds set up in little wooden booths ringing the perimeter of the square. There were shopkeepers selling a whole assortment of things, from hot chocolate and gingerbread cookies to homemade candy to personalized ornaments to fine wine and jewelry. Amidst all the different stalls were small stages where performances ranging from choirs to magic shows were taking place, not to mention the life-size snow globes and the giant sleigh where guests could take pictures. And at the center of it all was a ginormous Christmas tree that had to be at least thirty feet tall.

It was magical. It made you feel like you were a little girl again, attending your town’s local Christmas fair with your family.

“I didn’t even know this existed!” you exclaimed, still holding tightly to your husband as you continued to gaze around you.

“I didn’t either,” Bob admitted, unable to stop smiling at how happy you looked. “But Phoenix and Hangman told me they took the kids here last week and had a blast, so I knew I had to get you tickets.”

“Oh, thank you, honey! This is amazing!” you beamed, wrapping your arms around him to give him an enthusiastic kiss.

Bob chuckled and blushed slightly as he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his other hand resting on your hip. “Should we walk around?”

Nodding, you took his hand and practically hauled him across the square, bouncing from stall to stall and oohing and aahing over all the various trinkets and baubles.

“Oh, honey, look! We should get this,” you cooed, holding up a sweet ornament of a hand painted Christmas tree with a little banner draped across it that read Our First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.

It didn’t matter that you had three other ornaments with similar messages already hanging on your Christmas tree at home. Bob gladly pulled out his wallet to buy it for you, his heart fluttering at the gorgeous smile that lit up your entire face when the vendor carefully wrapped it up and handed it to you.

“Thank you, Bobby. I can’t wait to put it on the tree when we get home,” you told him, carefully slipping the wrapped ornament into your purse.

“Anything for you, honey,” Bob murmured softly, kissing your forehead. “Alright, what’s our next stop?”

You and Bob continued to wander among the stalls for the next couple hours, stopping on occasion to take a photo or grab a snack—"This is sustenance," you grinned, holding up the little brown bag of freshly glazed almonds that you’d purchased for the two of you to munch on.

At one point, as you were admiring the work of a local artist, you heard the sound of the sweetest voices imaginable. Following the music, with Bob trailing closely behind, you walked a bit further up the path before stopping in front of a small choir made up of the most angelic looking children you had ever seen. The sign in front of the platform declared that they were students from a local school for children with special needs.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, tears sparkling on your lashes as they sang the most beautiful version of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” you had ever heard. Resting your head on your husband’s shoulder, you let the music wash over you, smiling brightly as they transitioned from one song to another.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there exactly—was it for three songs or six?—but when the children finally stopped singing, you and Bob burst into thunderous applause, prompting nearby onlookers to join in.

The pride on the children’s faces melted your heart as they shyly waved to the crowd and began making their way off the platform.

A little girl with Down syndrome, who couldn’t have been older than six or seven, suddenly broke away from the others and grabbed her mother’s hand, dragging her towards where you and your husband stood.

“Thank you for coming!” she said brightly, offering an adorable little gap-tooth smile.

“Thank you for having us!” you replied brightly, squatting down so that you were on eye level with her. “You all sounded amazing!”

To your surprise, the little girl lunged forward to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” her mother exclaimed, touching her daughter’s shoulder and trying to pull her back.

“It’s alright,” you smiled, patting the little girl’s back before she let go. “No need to apologize.”

“Thank you for staying to listen for so long,” the woman said, looking between you and Bob. “The kids worked really hard on their program for today, so it was nice to have such a captive audience.”

“We were happy to do it, really,” Bob told her, smiling down at the little girl as he rested a hand on your lower back. “Christmas music is my wife’s favorite,” he told her conspiratorially.

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Mine, too!”

You all laughed happily at that.

“Well, I hope you have an amazing Christmas and that Santa brings you everything you’re hoping for this year,” you told her, grinning at the way she lit up at the mention of Santa.

“Santa! Santa!” she cheered.

“That’s right,” her mother nodded, brushing her daughter’s hair back over her shoulder. “We should get going soon if we want to go see Santa. What do you say to the nice people who watched you sing?”

“Thank you!” the little girl said sweetly, giving both you and Bob another quick hug around the legs. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” you and Bob replied in unison, waving to both mother and daughter as you went your separate ways, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’re going to make an amazing mother one day,” Bob told you softly, the unadulterated adoration in his eyes warming you up from the inside out.

You just smiled dreamily in response, very much looking forward to the day when you would get to see Bob Floyd become a father.

“Well I think that was a very successful trip to the Christmas Market,” your husband said a few minutes later after you circled back to the center of the square.

“I had so much fun, honey. Thank you for thinking of this,” you told him, touched by the effort he’d made to bring you here and make it such a lovely afternoon.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bob smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He glanced down at his watch and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, but we better get going if we want to stay on schedule. Still have a lot to do.”

“Wait…what?” you questioned, startled. “There’s more?”

“I said I had a lot planned, didn’t I?” That mischievous twinkle had returned to his eyes. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

“Bob Floyd, what do you have up your sleeve?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and looking up at him with a quirked brow, trying and failing to mask the smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll see,” was all he said, taking your hand and leading you back to the car.

If you had been uncertain about what your husband’s plans were when you’d arrived at Petco Park, you were doubly unsure what he had in mind when he turned onto the bridge connecting San Diego to Coronado.

“Are you taking me with you to work?” you wondered with a laugh, looking out the window at the afternoon sun sparkling on the San Diego Bay. You often told Bob that you were jealous of the view he got to enjoy on his commute to and from North Island.

Bob laughed at your question, but simply shook his head in response, turning up the radio as Mariah Carey began belting “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

“Hmmm, saved by the Queen of Christmas,” you joked, nudging him playfully as he took a turn off the bridge.

“Now, honey, you know that you’re the Queen of Christmas,” Bob retorted, winking at you as he made a few more turns.

“True,” you giggled, singing along to the radio until Hotel Coronado appeared in your sights, in all its glorious grandeur. You glanced over at Bob curiously, but he didn’t say anything as he searched for a parking spot.

“The suspense is killing me, Bobby,” you lamented, clinging onto his arm once he finally did manage to park the car. “What are we doing now?”

Turning to face you, Bob was struck once again by just how deeply he loved you. There was no one else he’d drag himself all over San Diego for on his day off from work.

“We’re going ice skating,” he explained, chuckling at the shocked expression on your face.

“You mean…Skating by the Sea?!” you gasped excitedly, practically bouncing up and down in your seat. “Bobby, you got tickets?”

“Sure did,” he nodded, pulling them out of his pocket to show you.

“Oh my gosh, how?” you breathed, reaching out to touch them as if you were afraid they would disappear.

“Mav knows a guy,” Bob chuckled, shaking his head affectionately as he thought of his boss and mentor.

As Hotel Coronado’s most popular winter attraction, it was nearly impossible to get tickets to Skating by the Sea during the Christmas season, but when Bob had mentioned it at work, Maverick had promised that he would be able to procure him a couple tickets. How he managed it, Bob didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. All that mattered was that you were looking at him right now like he had hung the moon and the stars, and there was no better reward than that.

“Ready to go?” Bob asked, holding out his hand to you.

“Ready!” you cheered, placing your hand in his and holding on tight.

It had been quite some time since you had actually been ice skating, and you were a bit rusty, especially in comparison to your midwestern husband, who had grown up ice skating on frozen ponds every winter. Still, despite your wobbly knees, you were determined to enjoy every moment of this experience.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Bob murmured encouragingly, holding tightly to your hands as he guided you onto the ice, sticking close to the wall in case you needed extra support.

“If you had told me we were coming, I could have brushed up on my skills ahead of time,” you teased, glancing down at your white rental skates as you carefully slid one foot in front of the other.

“And ruin the surprise and the look on your face when I told you what we were doing? Never,” he grinned, gently squeezing your hands as you slowly started to become more confident and steady on your feet. “You’ve got it, honey. Try looking up at me. I won’t let go,” he promised.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze from your feet up to your husband’s midsection, and then finally up to his face, that face that you adored more than anything else on this earth.

“There you go, you’ve got it. You’re doing such a good job,” Bob praised you, his confidence unshaken as he moved backwards across the ice. It was incredibly attractive how sure of himself he was out here.

“I think I’ve got it now. Want to try letting go?” you asked with a grin, feeling a little nervous but willing to give it a shot.

Smiling proudly, Bob nodded and slowly released his grip on your hands, letting you glide independently for a few seconds. You moved forward tentatively, your hands still out at your sides so that you could grab onto him—or the wall—if needed.

“That’s it, honey! Look at you go!” your husband cheered, making you laugh as you carefully made your way over to the opposite wall, which afforded you breathtaking views of the beach and the ocean beyond.

Seconds later, Bob skated up beside you, resting with you against the wall and enjoying the same view. “Pretty beautiful, huh?” he asked, gazing down at you.

“Insanely beautiful,” you agreed, resting your hand over his and squeezing gently. “I’m so glad we’re here.”

“Me, too,” Bob nodded, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “But it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I’m just so glad to be with you.”

“Honey,” you breathed out, touched by the sweetness of his words. They actually made you well up a little bit.

“I mean it, sweetheart. It’s not the things we do that make days like this special. It’s getting to do them with you. That’s all I really wanted. I’ve missed you these past few weeks,” he confessed.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Bob was quiet for a moment, just holding you close and resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you so much, you know,” you told him, lifting your head to press a kiss to his jaw.

“I know,” he nodded, his mouth turning up in a tender smile. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

After a couple moments of comfortable silence, you took his hand and started to push away from the wall. “Come on, let’s go show everybody what an amazing skater you are,” you laughed, nearly toppling over in your eagerness. Thankfully, Bob had some of the quickest reflexes you’d ever seen and was there to catch you.

He was always there to catch you.

You and your husband spent the next hour twirling around on the ice, you trying your best not to fall and Bob trying his best to keep you from falling. By the time your legs were starting to ache in protest, the sun was just beginning to set over the beach, the sky exploding in hues of orange, pink, and red.

“Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” you whispered in awe, resting your cheek against your husband’s strong chest and soaking in the moment.

“A close second to you,” Bob replied, chuckling at the adorable way you got all flustered at his compliment. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get those skates off you.”

Stepping off the rink, Bob carefully guided you to a nearby bench and sat you down before squatting in front of you to untie your laces.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” you asked softly, reaching out to lightly caress his flushed cheek as he ministered to you.

“I ask myself the same thing every day when I get to wake up beside you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your knee before pulling your skates off. He then rose and plopped down beside you on the bench, pulling off his own skates with ease.

After you returned your rental skates and collected your things, Bob stopped you on the pathway near the beach and looked down at you.

“I hope you’ve worked up an appetite after all this,” he told you, a knowing smile on his face. “Because we’ve got one more stop.”

“We do? Oh, Bobby! This day has already been so special. I can’t imagine how it could get any better,” you declared, wondering what more he could possibly have in store.

“Wait and see,” Bob winked, taking your hand as you began strolling off hotel property and towards where you had parked “Oh, and I’ve got a little something in the car for you to change into.”

The last thing on earth you had been expecting when your husband handed you a small duffel bag out of the trunk of the car was to open it up and find the beautiful red dress you’d worn last Christmas—the one Bob hadn’t been able to stop gushing about or get you out of fast enough after Christmas dinner—and your favorite pair of high heels, plus the diamond studs and pendant he’d gifted you last year, the ones you only wore on very special occasions.

And yet, there you were, sitting beside your husband in the passenger seat of his car in your holiday finest, flying along the open road towards some unknown destination.

You weren’t the only one who had changed after your ice skating escapades. Bob had packed a second duffel, it seemed, for when you had returned from getting changed, he was waiting for you, no longer clad in his crew neck and jeans, but in a pair of black slacks and a dinner jacket, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

“For you,” he said with a wide smile, handing you a small bouquet of red and white roses—another surprise he’d been hiding in that trunk of his.

You held the sweet-smelling flowers close to your nose now as Bob made a few turns, heading in a direction that was not totally familiar to you.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you whispered softly, a hint of emotion catching in your voice as you rested the beautiful bouquet in your lap. You couldn’t wait to put it in one of your Christmas vases when you got home and proudly display it on the coffee table in the living room.

Bob glanced over at you as he came to a red light, his blue eyes brimming with adoration as he soaked in how happy and content you looked. “You deserve it,” he told you, reaching out to rest a hand on your thigh, his fingers lightly stroking the inside of your knee. “You deserve all this and so much more. And I’m so lucky to be the man who gets to give it to you—or try anyway,” he added with a sheepish laugh.

Before the light could turn green, you leaned over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. “You succeed,” you murmured against his lips. “Every time. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I love you,” he smiled, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb before returning both hands to the wheel, ignoring the disgruntled driver who was honking behind him.

You giggled as you settled back in your seat with a happy sigh. “I love you, too, honey.” You paused for a moment or two, then tacked on, “Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nice try,” Bob laughed, shooting you a sideways glance. “I haven’t spoiled any of my surprises today. You think I’m going to start now?”

“Oh, fine,” you replied, heaving a dramatic sigh and then grinning. “I can’t wait to find out what it is though.”

“I have a feeling you’re really going to love it,” he said, his smile warmer than the San Diego sun as he tapped his hands excitedly on the steering wheel, his own anticipation building.

“I know I will,” you nodded, lifting the bouquet of roses to your nose once more and taking a delicate sniff. “I love anything so long as I’m doing it with you.”

A few minutes later, Bob made a final turn that led the two of you up a winding, gorgeously manicured road. Leaning forward, you gazed out the window eagerly, trying to place exactly where you were. At that exact moment, a large sign came into view that read FAIRMONT GRAND DEL MAR.

Gasping in delight, you practically had your nose smushed against the glass as your husband drove past stunning gardens and twinkling fountains, all decked out with the most darling, demure decorations you had ever seen.

Fairmont Grand Del Mar was one of the most luxurious and glamorous hotels in all of Southern California, and while it was basically right in your own backyard, you had never stepped foot on its grounds before.

You suddenly found yourself very grateful that your jeans and sweater were safely tucked away in a duffel bag. Thank goodness your brilliant husband thought of everything.

“Oh my goodness, Bobby!” you squealed, covering your mouth to try to control the delighted laughter that was bubbling up inside you. But it was no use. “It’s so beautiful here!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Bob hummed in agreement, taking in the view as he slowed his pace along the property’s winding pathways. “A beautiful girl in a beautiful place. Sounds about right to me,” he added, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

You just smiled at that, a pleasant warmth rushing to your cheeks as you tried to take in as much of the views as you could. As if the hotel grounds weren’t breathtaking enough on their own, they’d clearly gone to great lengths to turn the property into a winter wonderland for the holidays and they had more than succeeded. You loved every inch of it.

Moments later, after Bob had helped you out of the car and handed his keys off to a valet parker, he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you into the lobby of what seemed to be one of the hotel’s restaurants. It was elegantly designed, with Persian rugs and cream-colored marble walls, scrolled detailing on the ceiling, and a roaring fireplace to give the room a cozy, inviting atmosphere. It was decorated for the season with class—golden candelabras, dark red poinsettias, aromatic garland wrapped in red ribbons and bows, giant wreaths practically the size of you hanging on the walls.

It felt like a little Christmas paradise.

You were thankful for Bob’s strong hand on your back, guiding you along as you tripped over your own two feet, gazing around the room in unabashed awe.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he whispered in your ear as you approached the host stand. “I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures of you in that gorgeous dress with this perfect Christmas backdrop,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I want you in the pictures, too,” you whispered back, grinning as you squeezed his hand where it was resting on your hip. “Too bad we didn’t think to come here for our Christmas card photo,” you added, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Next year,” Bob winked. He managed to tear his gaze away from you only when the two of you finally got to the stand and the hostess looked at you expectantly.

“Good evening,” she said in a voice that was calm, cool, and cultured. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

“Yes,” Bob told her, squeezing your hip softly as he spoke. “Dinner for two. It should be under Floyd.”

The hostess checked her computer screen and smiled. “Ah, yes. We’re pleased to welcome you tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. Please, follow me,” she said, leading you through a small maze of elegantly set tables, bedecked with what appeared to be antique tablecloths, romantic candles, and subtle hints of holly and garland.

The three of you finally came to a stop at a cozy table right near a window which overlooked the gardens, a twinkling Christmas tree right in your line of vision.

“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess told you as the two of you got settled in your seats. “We hope you very much enjoy our special Christmas menu here at Fairmont Grand Del Mar,” she added with a gracious smile before turning to head back to her post.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a soft smile, maintaining every ounce of decorum you could possibly muster until the woman was out of earshot. Then you let out a delighted squeal, the same sound you used to make when opening your presents on Christmas morning as a little girl. “Bobby! This is incredible! How did you manage this?” you demanded, gaping at him in amazement. Then you giggled. “Wait, let me guess. Mav knows another guy?”

“Actually this time, it was Payback who knew a guy,” Bob laughed, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb across your soft skin. “His cousin works concierge at the hotel, so he managed to pull a few strings.”

“Amazing,” you grinned, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Don’t let me forget to thank Mav and Reuben when I see them at the party.”

“Just Mav and Reuben?” he teased, pretending to be wounded.

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as you told him, “Well I’m going to give you a proper thank you tonight.” Your eyes sparkled in tandem with the diamond pendant hanging around your neck.

Bob’s cheeks turned bright pink as he caught your meaning, and he reached up to tug lightly at the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat.

Winking, you leaned back with a smile. Your husband was saved from having to come up with a reply by the sudden appearance of your waiter, an older, dignified man named Antonio, who greeted you both warmly as he shared some drink recommendations.

Despite the fact that Bob hardly ever drank, he ordered the two of you a bottle of champagne that came highly recommended, which Antonio happily delivered along with a bucket of ice.

“To you, sweetheart,” Bob toasted, lifting the flute that your waiter had filled just a moment earlier. “This time of year wouldn’t be half as special if it wasn’t for you.”

“No, to you,” you smiled, raising your own champagne flute to mirror your husband’s. “Today was beyond words, and none of it would have been possible without you.”

“To us then,” he grinned, compromising as he tipped his glass towards you.

“To us,” you nodded in agreement, lightly clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. “Mmm, that’s delicious,” you murmured appreciatively, licking a drop of the champagne off your lip.

“Mhm,” Bob hummed, looking almost surprised. “I mean, not that I have much to compare to, but I’d say this is the best champagne I’ve ever had.”

“Better than at our wedding?” you joked.

“I stand corrected. This is the second best champagne I’ve ever had,” he chuckled.

You and Bob relaxed into smooth and easy conversation. Both your mothers would have scolded you for resting your elbows on the table, especially in such a fancy restaurant, but neither of you cared as you leaned in closer to one another, whispering over the candlelight as the twinkling lights outside the window illuminated your lovestruck faces. Faintly, in the distance, you could hear the soft sounds of classic Christmas tunes being played on a piano. It was the most perfect evening you could have imagined.

The food was some of the best you’d ever tasted. After much debate, you finally settled on the filet mignon with a bearnaise sauce, roasted vegetables, and what had to be the world’s creamiest mashed potatoes, while Bob selected the pork medallions with roasted garlic fingerling potatoes and a brussel sprout salad. Although really it was hard to say who had ordered what considering the way you kept picking food off each other’s plates.

By the time the sour-cherry cheesecake trifle that the two of you had ordered for the grand finale came out, you felt like you were going to burst right out of your pretty red dress. But like you always said, there was always room for dessert.

“You want to know the craziest thing?” you asked, looking up at Bob as you set your fork down on the plate resting between you and your husband. When he nodded at you, you went on, “I just realized that I didn’t think about any of my holiday planning at all today—the shopping, my work party, the parties we’re hosting, none of it. It didn’t cross my mind at all even though it’s all I’ve been thinking about these past few weeks. Isn’t that funny?”

Bob set his fork down as well and gazed at you from across the table, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “Good,” he said, reaching out to take your hand in his once more, gently playing with your wedding band. “That was my mission, and it sounds like it was a success. I wanted today to be a day where you just got to have fun and enjoy this time of year. I know how much it means to you, and I also know that it’ll be over in the blink of an eye, so we have to make the most of it while we can.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt the corners of your eyes pricking with happy tears. Your husband was truly the most thoughtful, selfless, caring man you had ever known. You would never know what you had ever done to get so lucky as to find him.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, mimicking his actions and lightly rolling his wedding band underneath your finger as you reached for his other hand. You were quiet for a moment, then thought of his words from earlier, the words that had been niggling the back of your mind on and off since you’d left the ice skating rink. “What you said before,” you began slowly, chewing on your bottom lip, “about missing me these past few weeks. Have I really been that busy? I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Bob gasped, squeezing your hands tightly in his own. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. I’ve just been worried about you, that’s all. You’re always so happy this time of year, and I know how much it means to you, so I hate to see you running yourself ragged like you have been. I guess I was starting to be afraid that you were going to burn yourself out before Christmas even got here.”

Your heart constricted at the genuine concern in his voice, at the way he was always looking out for you, even when you weren’t paying careful enough attention.

“And I have missed you,” he added softly, lifting one of your hands to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to it.

“I’ve missed you, too, honey,” you whispered, your throat clogging with emotion as you thought of the many nights you’d come home later than usual after running to the stores after work, too tired to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with your husband or just get to enjoy his company. “And you’re right—I have been running myself ragged. I can feel it. I’ve been so tired, and I feel like I don’t even have the time to enjoy all my favorite traditions.” You sighed softly, shaking your head. “I just—I just wanted everything to be perfect this year, you know?”

“It always is perfect,” Bob murmured encouragingly, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his calloused fingertips, his movements slow and soothing.

“I know, but with it being our first married Christmas, I guess I just wanted it to be really perfect. I got it into my head that we needed to start all these new traditions and that I had to keep on top of everything at all times to make sure that it happened, but now I’m realizing that in the process of all that, I lost sight of what’s most important about celebrating our first Christmas as husband and wife—you,” you admitted, reaching up to lovingly cup his cheek in your hand.

He smiled softly at your words, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Sweetheart, the good news is that we have a whole lifetime of making traditions together. So long as it’s you and me, then that’s all I need,” he promised you.

You nodded, a couple stray tears spilling down your cheeks, which you wiped away with a sheepish little laugh. “You’re right. Today was a pretty good start to some Floyd Christmas traditions, I think,” you told him with a grin.

Bob reached out to thumb away the tears sparkling like diamonds on your skin. “I agree,” he smiled. “But the truth is, I don’t care what we’re doing. We could go ice skating on the beach or watch a movie on the couch. We could have a five-star dinner at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar or eat take-out on the kitchen floor.” He glanced around for a moment, just to check if anyone had heard him, his blue eyes laughing as he turned back to you. “I just want to do it with you. That’s what Christmas really means to me, sweetheart. All the other stuff, that’s icing on the cake.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered, leaning across the table and capturing his mouth with your own, the taste of sour cherries and champagne still clinging to his lips.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he cradled the back of your head and kissed you back until you were both sitting breathless in your chairs.

“You’re the love of my life,” he told you. “No matter how many traditions come and go, that’s one thing that will never change.”

As soon as you and Bob got home that night, exhausted in the best way after a perfect day together, you both ran to change into the Christmas pajamas you’d worn last Christmas Eve, then curled up on the couch with steaming mugs of hot cocoa to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas.

“Tired?” Bob asked softly as the Peanuts crew sang “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” while the credits rolled.

“Mmm, a little,” you nodded, lifting your head from where it had been resting on his shoulder.

“Ready to head to bed?” he yawned, pushing the blanket back and rising from the couch before turning to hold his hands out to you.

“Mhm,” you murmured, slipping your hands into your husband’s and allowing him to pull you to your feet. “But not to go to sleep just yet,” you added pointedly.

At your husband’s raised brows, you giggled softly.

“I still have to properly thank you for today,” you reminded him with a playful wink.

You had never seen him move so fast.

That Christmas turned out to be one of the best you’d ever celebrated. Your work party went off without a hitch, the Daggers were already talking about how they needed to make a party at the Floyds’ an annual Christmas tradition, and your families loved getting to spend the holidays together as one huge unit. Every gift you’d purchased was well received and every meal you cooked was touted as the best anyone had ever eaten.

But that wasn’t what made it so special.

As you had been reminded this year, Christmas was about so much more than the planning and the presents and the parties. Those things were nice, sure, but they weren’t what made this time of year so magical.

What made this Christmas so perfect was the handsome man with blue eyes and a wide smile waiting for you beneath the mistletoe.

He was the only gift you needed, today and every day for the rest of your life.

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

@bucktommypositivityweek Day 1, season 8 opening disaster. 2,610 words, read on AO3

🐝“We're doomed.”🐝

“Millions of bees?” Chimney asked unbelieving, still clutching the radio. Dispatch had just reported it; in fact, it had been his own wife, and she was definitely not joking on the job. “Killer bees,” Buck corrected, squinting up at the cloudless sky as if they were already pouncing down on the 118. “African honeybees, actually. Nasty, aggressive critters. The whole hive attacks when threatened, and they chase their victims. Saw it on a documentary once.” “Nobody wants to know, Buckley.” Gerrard was just leaving the fire engine and putting on his helmet. ”There's a huge traffic jam ahead of us, and a few miles at the end of it is the truck that caused it. Whether there were millions of bees in it or not, which I personally think is nonsense and an exaggeration, we’re the ones picking up the pieces, so let's get to work.” Buck shouldered his axe, though a noise overhead distracted him. A small plane, a nimble propeller-driven aircraft, was flying pretty low above them. Was he imagining it, or did the pilot briefly wobble its wings? “That's one of ours,” said Eddie, who was now walking beside him, toward the next crashed car. “There are at least two people trapped inside.” "Oh yeah? How do you know?”

“I looked through the windshield, Buck,“ Eddie replied with a bemused look. ”No,” Buck shot back, looking up again, ”that it’s one of our machines?”

“Pry open the door here… yeah, that's it. Get a grip, Buck. I know this because Tommy explained how to recognize the machines. I'm surprised you haven't started spouting off trivia about airplanes and helicopters yet." Hen came running up, tossing Eddie an IV bag which he deftly caught. “We're doing a proper triage," she said. “Oh wait…" She bent over past Eddie, who was busy calming the occupants of the car, two women, appearing frightened, confused and clearly injured. ”Ma'am? We got you. Eddie, hand me a skin clamp, please.” Buck, standing behind her, was already looking for the next car from which someone needed to be freed. He recognized from her tone of voice that she had discovered something bad in that car, but that the person concerned should not notice under any circumstances. Eddie rummaged in the emergency bag, and Hen asked in a conversational tone, “What do you think they need a plane for? It's not exactly a forest fire.” “It's a crop-dusting plane, I think,“ Eddie replied. ‘It's probably supposed to spray chemicals against the bees.’ ”Against millions of bees?” “Well, how else are they going to get rid of them? Buck, I think I heard Gerrard call you!" Buck turned around and saw the captain pointing at two cars wedged into each other, a scowl on his face that furrowed his forehead. I better hurry, he thought, and he was right about that.

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Of all the things Tommy had ever done with an airplane, this was probably the craziest.

The mission had been anything but normal from the start. Millions of bees had escaped from the truck in an accident on the highway, dispatch reported. Killer bees, goaded and stressed, now following an instinct. Whatever bees do, maybe they want to pollinate something. Tommy took a look at the controls – everything was fine – and thought of Evan.

Of course, it was the worst possible time to think about the man who’d turned his head, but then again, it wasn't. Evan would probably have a lot of exciting prattle about bees. Tommy briefly pondered what he knew about them… well, wasn’t much. Right now, what mattered was his job; the only idea Animal Control had come up with, He was supposed to fly as close as possible to the swarm and spray biocides. First, the smoke would irritate the insects and disorient them, then kill them in no time. He already felt sorry for those who would have to sweep millions of dead bees off the streets at the end of the day.

Tommy kept to the west of the highway; according to his information, the bees had set off directly towards the city. He steered the machine low, the bees didn't reach that high of an altitude. A few red spots below him told Tommy that the emergency services had already reached the scene, and Evan would be among them, no doubt. The people down there were safe. However, that didn't apply to a large part of L.A., if those bees were to cause trouble there. With such a large number of aggressive animals, you didn't even have to be allergic to die from their stings.

“FLX-126, this is Air Control,” croaked his radio. “Kinard, the population has been warned to close windows and doors, you have clearance. Catch the beasts before they reach the city.“

”Copy that. I’ll take up the chase against the bees.“

Evan would find that funny.

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”Hurry up, Buckley, there's an oil slick up ahead that needs to be secured. You want half the pileup to blow up? One spark is all it takes!”

“I'm nearly there, Captain,” Buck shouted, helping a shivering elderly gentleman out of the car. He had almost torn the door off its hinges trying to free him, but after a quick check, it seemed that the man was all right, except for an ugly gash on his forehead. Not the first miracle today. ”The ambulances are over there, please go to them, they will take care of you.”

“Buckley!"

Buck liked to imagine Gerrard as a nagging little man who would tear himself apart in the forest in a rage, but reality was no fairy tale. Reality was an operation on a chaotic road smeared with oil and blood, where a hazardous materials truck full of bees had left a trail of devastation. A mission with dozens of trapped people who had to be freed using heavy equipment and muscle power, and Buck was already dripping with sweat. But there was no time to catch a breath, not when Gerrard was in this mood.

“Get the binder!” Gerrard snapped, while simultaneously impelling Chimney, ‘There are still people trapped up ahead, so get your ass in gear!’

Gerrard's arms were gesturing in both directions. Now Buck knew a better comparison than a vicious fairy-tale creature — Gerrard reminded him of General Grievous, who could lash out with four arms at once. He jogged over to the captain, giving the oil slick a skeptical glance. It was big, yes, but a simple barrier should suffice to start with; there were more important things to do right now.

“The binder is in the truck, and it's almost half a mile down the highway,“ he said.

”So?“ Gerrard's Adam's apple jumped up and down angrily. Buck stared at it, fascinated.

”I should help Chimney, there seems to be a problem up ahead.”

Buck pointed to his brother-in-law, who was trying with great effort to break open a wedged car door.

“The 126 is further ahead, they’ll be fine. The oil slick is here.” Gerrard said with narrowed eyes. The guy needs glasses, Buck thought.

Now he knew why Gerrard wanted to keep him here. He was probably afraid that Tommy was on duty up ahead and they would meet. Moreover, the captain of the 126 was not very fond of Gerrard, and Gerrard would have to stop his annoying harassment for a while. At least Buck would then have been able to work in peace as he saw fit... the way Bobby had taught him, not that stupid old geezer with his old-fashioned rules. However, he was convinced that Tommy was on the plane that had just made a loop above them and then turned west. For a second, he pondered whether it was worth rebelling against Gerrard, but then he thought of all the people who were still trapped and hurt, looking for help. Buck took a deep breath.

“All right,” he growled and jogged across the highway to the fire engine.

At least Tommy is having an exciting time.

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When Tommy spotted the swarm of bees, his mouth went dry.

He didn't know what he had actually expected, but the sight was... sobering. Not to mention scary, even from up here. Millions of bees formed a dense cluster that only frayed a little at the edges. It was an enormous cloud of insects that almost looked like a single animal; a huge, billowing monster moving towards the city.

Evan would have a better comparison for it, he thought briefly. But even his brave, extremely adorable boyfriend would probably freak out if he could see this. Tommy, in any case, sensed that only an adrenaline rush was keeping him from simply turning the plane around and leaving as quickly as possible. That, and his sense of duty. Damn it.

The swarm was now already close to one of the city's outskirts, a peaceful suburbia with neat terraced houses and cute gardens. Gardens that would soon be invaded by so many bees that every living being down there would be buried beneath them. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Tommy gripped the stick more firmly, lowering the machine a couple of feet.

These critters were already much too close to L.A. There had been warnings through the usual apps, but people were people. He knew there would be enough who hadn't noticed or were just too ignorant. Some of them would be hit by the chemicals, no doubt. And Tommy knew that theoretically that shouldn't bother him; he had a job to do. But only people like Gerrard would consider the consequences to be collateral damage. If Tommy released the biocide now, it would not only destroy the bees, but also cause a lot of damage in the pretty little gardens below him – and in the groundwater. A crazy idea formed in his head. There wasn't much time to make up his mind.

He pushed the controls down, added a little thrust and flew straight into the swarm.

It was a strange feeling, a bit like floating through cotton wool. The bees were briefly startled, but kept their pace. It wouldn't be enough to make them change course, and Tommy had to hurry – the longer he flew through the middle of the swarm, the more likely it was that they would sit on his windshields until he couldn't see anything. Or that too many of them would fly into the propellers until they clogged them and he would lose control. Tommy gritted his teeth. All or nothing, he thought, and waggled the wings to stir them up. Then he yanked the plane sharply to the left, flew a small loop, and glanced behind. The bees followed him; the cloud of insects, which had only briefly scattered, had reformed into a dense, angry mass, and they were on his tail.

Next target: Kinard, he thought. Off to the desert with you.

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That evening, as Buck unlocked the door to the loft, dirty and tired, he was greeted by an extremely pleasant scent. It smelled like... lasagna? He had barely closed the door when his stomach growled.

“Interesting greeting, Evan,” Tommy called to him from the kitchen counter.

Tommy, to whom he had given a copy of the keys to his apartment only two weeks ago. Buck's heart gave a happy little jump. He was also a little jealous, though, because Tommy was obviously freshly showered, and he felt like he had just come out of the garbage disposal. However... the sight of his boyfriend, with his hair still damp and slightly wavy at the ends, and apparently wearing one of Buck's T-shirts that stretched in all the right places... His throat tightened and he cleared it.

“My stomach's as happy to see you as the rest of me,“ he replied, and with two quick steps he was at Tommy, kissing him fondly while he glanced at the stove. Lasagna, definitely.

”Mmm,” Tommy purred appreciatively, ”ten more minutes. Maybe you want to change quickly? You kinda reek of oil.”

Buck groaned. “Gerrard had me do all the dirty work,” he complained, as he dropped onto a chair at the kitchen table. “That truck with the killer bees? It skidded because the driver – who, by the way, was very lucky to survive – was frightened by a spider in the cab. Can you imagine? The guy had millions of bees on board, and he freaked out because of a spider that had come right down on his nose.“

”You call me if you find a spider in the shower,” Tommy remarked as he stirred salad in a bowl.

“Because I find touching them gross. And because it's not right to just flush them down the drain. Did you know that spiders are very important to the ecosystem?“

”Hm. But I guess you would have been scared, too.”

“Maybe,“ Buck admitted. ‘Anyway, the guy swerved so hard that he caused a huge accident on the highway. Dozens were injured, it's a miracle that no one died. The trail of devastation stretched for a few miles across the roadway.’

”Including an oil slick, it seems to me,” Tommy teased him.

Buck raised an arm and smelled his armpits.

“Yuck. Yeah. Gerrard had me mopping up oil, securing the roadway, extinguishing tiny fires on the shoulder... I was lucky I could free four or five people from their cars before he sent me off to do some useless crap again.”

"The guy really has it in for you.”

“It's the medal,” Buck said, while he pushed a few of the carrot pieces, that Tommy had already cut but not yet added to the salad, into his mouth, ”He can't stand that I was decorated and he's been stumbling on the career ladder for forty years.”

“Hmmm,” Tommy went and quickly threw the rest of the vegetables into the bowl before Buck could contaminate them even more. ”That, or it's just because he's got a stick up his ass.”

Buck laughed briefly, then sighed. “It was a crazy operation, and I could have helped a lot more people. Tommy, I saw your plane for a second today. I bet you had a much more exciting day. A huge swarm of bees right under your plane, and you destroyed them all before they could wreak havoc on the city!”

The look he shot Tommy was admiring, and Tommy grinned. He thought about how he had almost peed his pants flying his plane in front of a giant swarm of aggressive bees, and that flying right into them had been a pretty crazy move. About the maneuver he had flown over the desert, that had almost cost him an engine because he had to try to get above the swarm again to release the biocide. He thought of the moment when a few of the killer bees had broken away from the collective and actually, as he had feared, settled on his cockpit windshield to narrow his view. And he thought about how the flap had jammed when he was directly over the swarm, how the sweat had run down his back and he could hardly breathe. How he had thought of the thousands of people who would be in danger if he didn't finish this; among them Evan.

“It wasn't that exciting,” he said modestly. ‘To be honest, dropping a few chemicals is a simple job, nothing to write home about. You should really take a shower, babe. After that, you can tell me more about Gerrard's exploits, okay?’

He leaned over to breathe a kiss just above Evan’s birthmark, and his smile was worth the little lie.

[eileenslibrary]

Man Of The Hour

A/N: Just needed some fluff today so I wrote this, hope you enjoy 

Tiny Dragon! Zhongli x GN! Reader

Warnings: Only mentions of work stress and crying, Zhongli is a lil shit, fluff, me listening to Norah Jones too much.

Song: Man Of The Hour, by Norah Jones

GIF is not mine

“It’s him or me”

The two men stand in the doorway looking at you incredulously as the tiny dragon sits in your lap you look up at him “Neither I am happy now” you hum petting behind his ears as the dragon purrs like a cat.

That’s what he said

But I can’t choose between a vegan and a pothead

The two men scoff and leave your house the door slamming behind them the dragon curling his small tail around your wrist and letting out a big yawn.

So I choose you because you’re sweet

And you give me lots of lovin’ and you eat meat

“No more complicated meals for us huh?” you pick him up from under the shoulders and flop onto your back looking up at him, his little tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth you chuckle and pull him under your chin.

And that’s how you became 

My only man of the hour

The tiny dragon wiggles in your arms as the sunlight peaks into the curtains before dancing over your head “It’s not breakfast yet” you grumble grabbing the tiny cat serpent and tucking him into your arms.

You never lie

And you don’t cheat

He stands on his hindquarters as he watches you cut up the salmon you chuckle at the cuteness throwing him a piece for him to catch and eat.

And you don't have any baggage tied to your forefeet

You boop his little nose when you return home immediately falling onto the bed to say hi to your little dragon your work attire ruffled from a long day. “So quiet in here?” you hum picking him up and placing him on his pillow his tail swatting in excitement, watching as you switch into his favorite hoodie immediately slipping into the big pocket his head coming out one side, his cute butt out the other.

Do I deserve, to be the one, who will feed you breakfast, lunch,

And dinner and take you to the park at dawn

He peaks out of the top of your shirt as you meet with your friends downtown his forked tongue peaking out taking in the new smells, you feel his tail wag as he smells all the delicious food. You chuckle as you approach Wanmin restaurant sitting with your friends as they coo at the tiny dragon poking his head from your shirt, you all order and feed some of your noodles to the little one until he slips into a food coma.

Will you really be

My only man of the hour

You feel the tiny dragon climb up your pants with his tiny claws as you wait for your coffee to be done as you read the paper, he finds your lap and curls still sleepy, you stroke one of his horns making him purr in content as he naps on your lap.

I know you'll never bring me flowers

Flowers they will only die

You once again find a shiny rock on your bed waiting for you on your bedside table, They weren’t flowers but it was just as meaningful, you stash it in one of the drawers with the other knick nacks he brought you. 

And though you'll never take a shower together 

You put him in the bath with you as you rinse the grime off his scales making him pout as the mud falls from him “No rolling in mud Rex! It tracks mud into the house” you scold washing under his belly.

I know you'll never make me cry

You sink in front of the door sobs wracking your body from the hard day at work, Rex’s little head pops up from one of your boots yawning as he climbs out of it and walks over to you rubbing against your leg and getting your attention, you look up and peak at him before scooping him up into your arms sobbing into the soft scruff of his neck. 

You never argue

You swing him around at the soft jazz making you smile as he gives you an odd look, none of your significant others did this with you always breaking into an argument due to your “childish” nature. You kiss his snoot pulling him into your arms once again and cuddling him next to your heart.

You don't even talk

Even though he can’t talk he does make a bunch of ruckus as he ruffles in your sock drawer making you chase after him when he grabs one of your socks his tale wagging frantically as you try to corner him and grab the sock but he dashes between your feet. “Oh come here you little shit!” you huff chasing after him as he climbs up the towel holder, you finally grab him and gently yank the soaking sock from his mouth making sure not to hurt him.

And I like the way you let me lead you

When we go outside and walk

You bought a chicken harness so you could take him out on walks as you stroll down the harbor the gold collar that has REX in bold red lettering. He leads you down the harbor and sits on the dock you sit next to him and swing your legs over the edge your socks and shoes to the side as you dip your toes watching the fish swim by.

Will you really be

My only man of the hour?

He was glad you dumped those pea brains and lived this nice life with your cute dragon, maybe someday you’ll catch him in his human form and he’ll tell you his true feelings for you, maybe he’ll finally swing you around the living room, bring you flowers, and finally share a shower with you.

My only man of the hour.

My only man of the hour.