#But when I say she made a ridiculous amount I mean like

[holyblanchett]

‘All that build up and yearning. All those interviews Jac Schaeffer did. Only for it to be amounted to a messy breakup of a relationship we never got to see.’

people are mad with you??? lmao please someone tell me where is the fucking lie here??? their final scene was their extreme breakup and when were they together? how were they together? was it even real and loving? didn’t they break up before probably dozen times already? always nasty? who the fuck knows. anyone who thought they were left in a better place after that kiss was being delusional.

i thought jac was lying us when she kept saying she was so surprised that people cared but now I think she was being truthful because take away all the interviews/podcast/deleted lines and scenes the relationship on screen they wanted to show us was mostly rio being the antagonist, the crazy stalker who would kill agatha in the end and agatha would finally be free of her, the final breakup. kathryn reminded us that rio is death and agatha will never want her back. I think we need to get what we want from fic like most of fandoms because we are being fools and attacking you because you’re telling the true is ridiculous

Speak on it!! They really out here acting like my opinions are about to end queer rep everywhere some of them are a fucking joke!! YES, there's fanfic and we can get what we want out of that. That really isn't the point, and for the people in my mentions saying I don't know good story telling. If yall think what they did to Agathario was good storytelling you are actually insane. Jac Schaeffer went in every interview known to man week after week speaking on a softer side of Rio we never got to see. They villainized lady death who isn't even evil or a villain and made her a stalker, toxic ex girlfriend that allegedly made Agatha's life hell. Just because the Sapphics are starved for media does not mean we have to accept when our stories are told poorly out of fear we'll never be at the forefront again. How many times are we going to allow them to use us for clout. Disney+ gained 4.4M subscriptions during the AAA season, the most subscriptions they have ever gained at one time. AAA's rotten tomato score is higher than loki season 2 which was considered the best marvel series season to date. It's been proven time and time again that we can get them the numbers. All we ask is that you represent us correctly.

[allmannerofmalady]

In continuation of my clownery, I started a new DATV playthrough because my beloved Inquisitor looked so jarring I had to remake her and replay like 20 hours of the game. But hey, I made peace with the fact that I am playing DATV to wrap up Inquisition and get an ending scene at this point, I'm not currently foreseeing a second playthrough, so I gotta do it right, y'know?

Spoilers, and me complaining at extreme length, yet again, about my own personal expectations vs reality into the void. Please ignore if DATV negativity is something you prefer to stay away from, protect your peace & what you enjoy.

So I replay HOURS. I'm having fun killing everything as fast as I can - I don't know what it is about playing as a rogue in this game that has tickled my ADHD brain so much, but I'm surprisingly really good at the arrow bonanza and relentless enemy aggro?! This turn based bitch? I digress.

I see my bb Inquisitor Lavellan - she still doesn't look like herself, but I can live with it. She got some ill-advised fillers in Tevinter, she's been through a lot, let her LIVE.

This time around my strategy is pure lore hunting. I'm getting every codex, I'm SQUEEZING this playthrough for whatever lore/easter eggs I can get because idk if I'm going to play again. I got all of Solas' murals early on, got Mythal's essence before Weisshaupt even, I think. BUT WAIT! I have one more treat! The locked room in the Lighthouse! Solas' study! There must be something juicy for all the effort, right? RIGHT? :'D

I know it's been beaten to death, but PERSONALLY, the game still feels incredibly flat to me, jarringly so. If I'm in the Dreadwolf's home, I want to snoop. I want Rook to look through his library, his books, his garbage bin. I even remember the devs saying they wanted being in the Lighthouse to feel an old friends house, or something? I could be wrong, my brain is fried. It's not just a Solas thing - I'm playing this game because I'm desperate for info about the characters I love, but as Rook, we are IN Solas' HQ and I want to rip open the floorboards. I'm trying to RP as much as I can RP in this G.

Anyway, I was so thirsty for something more, something deeper than just these lovely environments I cant do much with, and notes on how Solas hoards raisins - so I collected the wisps and did all the things to unlock the second door in the Lighthouse, forever booboo the fool, thinking I would get an easter egg or something. Trying to stay positive.

No. NO. I got some gear, another empty room Rook has no comments on, and fine, some of Solas' observations on the anchor.

Back to backflipping and shooting arrows in the air, and wanting to grab Emmrich by the beautiful lapels to shake him and ask about the Pentaghast family. Where's my WIFE --

On to the Weisshaupt mission, which was actually ridiculously fun to play - until I was told Weisshaupt is gone haha wow great love that at least the Inquisitor & gang are keeping Southern Thedas safe *subtle foreshadowing* 😃🤞 weeee

I was SO MAD at myself for expecting more like the clown that I am, it was something dumb but just annoyed me all over again and got me all… opinionated 🫠

So, I'm mad again. I cannot begin to articulate my feelings about the incredible amount of storylines and lore we've lost with the decisions made in DATV's writing - they've already been written so eloquently by much greater minds than myself. SO I'm just laughing my way through the pain 🤡

People pleaser that I am, I see other creators I've followed and loved for ages defend the game's choices, tell others they lack media literacy, that your criticisms mean you have rose tinted glasses about the previous games - whatever, your opinion can be valid without tearing others down. So, I genuinely thought something was wrong with me for being so hung up on details. But I can't even engage in fan theories anymore because I'm so jaded at this point. When I see new deep dives into lore-based theories on the game, 99% of the time my mind goes "There is no deeper meaning. They just wanted to wrap it up." Why do you think this thing happened? What do you think that thing is hinting? Nothing. And this is coming from someone who played all the games, owns all the novels, art books, World of Thedas I and II, the bloody Inquisitor lamp from the BioWare store LOL, I was primed and ready to engage in these conversations, but I can't. I have nothing to say that won't end in a cynical answer, and maybe that's because I'm also jaded by working in the game-adjacent VFX industry.

The factions are, yet again, fun but shallow, the logic confusing, and lack much of a backstory for Rook (I think Grey Wardens and Mourn Watchers seem to be the best developed from other reviews and playthroughs, I've only played extensively as a Shadow Dragon, to be fair). Why are you a mage in this one faction? Why are you a rogue in another when it doesn't make sense without a story to support it? It's all this beautiful candy floss that melts away the minute I stop and think about it. And then the cynic in me thinks - these are probably vestiges of the live service part of the game that EA was pushing for. I have to slap myself and stop looking for deeper meaning within corporate decisionsssss there is no swimming pool behind that closed door you needed 7 wisps for 😃

I desperately did not want this to be the case. I was hyped. I preordered the game and organized vacation around it, I'm too old and dealing with way too many crappy personal things to just be a hater for the sake of being a hater. Gaming and Dragon Age are my comfort spaces. But for the LIFE of me, I can't imagine playing DATV again once I finish, let alone more times than I can count like the previous games. Or imagine listening to 4 hours of Youtube videos of party banter to analyze, or even imagine how companions would react to certain things because they feel so stiff. Everything is beautiful, but sterile.

I do love Emmrich - I'm enjoying his storyline and romance, it's like the loveliest most whimsical Vincent Price Pixar romance, but still, something is always missing with the characters even as some do grow on me. I can't imagine anything close to just the party banter ALONE between Solas and Iron Bull. Cole. Fenris and Anders. And to be clear - the whole DA was GRITTY and DARK, DAO supremacy - NOT ME. I love all the games but they have always been whimsical and silly, cringey at times, and did not take themselves seriously. I remember doing the quest where Hawke is running around trying to keep Aveline's date with Donnic from going south, cracking up at how ridiculous it was, and just thinking - gods I LOVE this game.

Speaking of romance, while I'm enjoying how sweet the romance with Emmrich is, when I see others complaining about lack of spice... ahem. I still cannot get over the art style when it comes to characters. This is subjective, and a me problem - I still find it jarring. I don't like the proportions, the bloom, how smooth everyone looks. They still mostly look like cartoons to me, with no body hair and the big heads, and I find everyone's hands so distracting because they look like plasticine. I'm ok with no spice between these characters with their current designs lol let me leave it at that. Ok, except for Felassan and Solas, chef's kiss, no notes.

Solas and story elements directly around him still mostly hold the familiar weight, for the most part. I think credit goes to his amazing VA and the strength of what was likely written for his arc from the very start, before the rewrites and dev hell the game went through. I still have opinions, obviously, but even as a ride or die Solavellan I don't like having the Solavellan angle hijack conversations, so I'm not going to go there. If I'm going to criticize stuff I'll do it as a gamer/DA fan first, egg lover and apologist second.

As I reach the end of Act 2, the game continues to makes me feel like I'm stripped of all agency after a lifetime of playing choice-based games. I talk to companions when it allows me to, then they are relegated to set dressing. My conversation choices all feel the same, or don't match what I'm choosing sometimes. The Lighthouse does not feel like the vibrant hub it was sold as. I am on quests I mostly cannot accept or reject. I cannot interact with my surroundings unless it is gameified (light a candle, move a crystal). The companions abilities are all just - platforming? I know I sound hyperbolic, but it's all I can see currently.

I played Persona 5 from end to end, twice. I played FFXVI. I loved both, had no issues with their linear storytelling, and how the game led you to their end points. Those games are not DA, they did not have the expectations you would have from a BioWare title 10 years in the making. You were not lured in by tales of an incredible character creator, teased about what might be coming from previous games, told this was a sequel to an immersive fantasy RPG series in a beloved fantasy world where the defining studio mechanic was CHOICES MATTER, even when they changed a lot of other things from title to title. In P5/FFXVI you were Clive, you were Joker, you were playing out their story. They were not direct sequels to anything. I'm loathe to be seen as a mindless critic who just wants to shit on things, but a part of me does feel emotionally manipulated for $$$. I still resent how much hype was built for the game by maligning the previous ones (we're fixing Inquisition's mistakes!!).

I'm back to my mission of finishing the game I paid for, enjoy what I can, and get my Solavellan ending scene cause I'm down BAD for literally the only ship I have ever shipped🧍🏻‍♀️I appreciate that it was included. But also - wow does it exacerbate what wasn't included for everyone else's choices.

Something I hate is how everyone immediately jumped on the Baldur's Gate 3 comparisons - BG3 was a life changing game for me, but it's not perfect, and the comparisons are not fair. The one thing I will say is that when I first played BG3, despite its issues and the later criticisms of how Larian reacted to pressure from fans, I remember my earliest impression was - it feels good to be respected as a player. I didn't feel the game was talking down to me, and I got SO much for what I paid for (700 hours baybeee). Jaheira and Minsc were included as companions in homage to the previous games. Yes, they did Viconia dirty, nothing is perfect - but for example, Jaheira would tell you about her husband Khalid from the original games, which came out in 1998 and 2000. There was a lot of world building/easter eggs that not everyone was familiar with or even noticed, because not every player played BG1 and 2, or were familiar with DND 5e - but it was included. Drizzt Do’urden was mentioned ffs, they didn’t overthink about who read those books or not. I’m aware of my biases and I may very well be looking through rose tinted glasses, but I did not feel like the information was presented like I was dumb, or "ah they'll never understand this - SCRAP IT". It just feels like it’s there to honour the past and out of love for the world Larian were playing in.

I don't feel that respect for the player in DATV, I'm sorry. There is love there, but as hard as I try, it feels like it's there despite of the overall design of the game, not part of it. I keep remembering interviews before the game was released and things that were promised, and I don't see it. At all. No more meaningless fetch quests!! Most companion-focused game! The quests are largely boring or formulaic, but addictive and fun because they are so packed with mindless combat that my brain enjoys. Sometimes it feels like filler - we didn't know what to add here, FIGHT! You unlocked a poignantly named gate in the Crossroads? NO STORY MORE FIGHT! And I'm eating it up, let me not be a hypocrite, I have 80 hours in the game. But personally, it feels designed to pad out this beautiful, sometimes fun, but bitterly shallow game. I can't even go into companion specifics because I have nothing to say, no story I want to analyze. Some have grown on me, but there is no bite or nuance to the writing that compels me and I have no urge to know more. In the previous DA games I would take the long route wherever I went just to get more banter from my companions, and I was instantly interested in them, even if I disliked them. I've seen the comments, I tried, I don't think it's because "I haven't spent enough time" with the DATV companions.

The level design of long narrow corridors, which do remind me of DA2 and FFXVI, has become so predictable to me that I almost always know exactly where I'm going to find loot. So it becomes this admittedly satisfying run of grabbing and fighting to the end point, getting the dopamine hits of collecting pointless stuff, but not really taking in the environments and enjoying the adventure. The level design is not immersive. These do not feel like real cities or real people, and that was intentional. It feels like “levels”, not a World. No one reacts to a single thing you do. Even in the ultra minimalist style of Zelda BOTW, townspeople would react to things you did. Sometimes I walk up to yet another obvious fight arena where the enemies are just chilling, waiting for me while standing still - almost like they're on shift at a haunted house LOL. I can imagine the Venatori stubbing out a cigarette, "C'mon guys, she's here, showtime". The funny part is this has all been seen before in older games, and it never bothered me. My own expectations and overhype might be to blame, but it feels like a big step back when so many games are stepping forward. Me = clown

I keep going back to my first reaction when the disappointment hit me. It feels like being given Persona 5 Strikers or Hyrule Warriors, and told that it's the sequel to the actual RPG. It's fun, it wears the skin of the thing you like that makes you happy, but stops there.

Other things I shake my fist at

Cheap ass The 6th Sense ass Varric death. Yes, yes, Solas villain arc whatever - it was cheap. Way to honour a multi-game beloved character and the player, even if the time had come for him to die in the story.

No, I cannot find a single redeeming reaction from a companion that makes Varric dying make sense in hindsight, except that they are all made of cardboard. I saw comments saying on a second playthrough it's clear Harding is in mourning - sorry, I don't see it.

So. Dorian, the Inquisitor, Charter, Harding, your party, Maevaris, Isabella, list goes on - not a single one of them asks about Varric or mentions his death? Expresses condolences? Nothing? Cheap. Even if Solas was playing with your mind, doesn't it make the overall characters in the game seem even more wooden and unrealistic to the player? It was not the gotcha they seem to think it is.

When the novelty of the cameos and the emotion associated wore off, they were just flat and felt random. Cassandra should have been there, doing Seeker shit (my WIFE). Ok no cameo? Casual dialogue with Emmrich about having a Nevarran in the Inquisition (or as the Divine?!) Lucanis info dumping about Josephine as an Antivan, Zevran as a Crow, nvm, time for a coffee joke. Merrill, eluvian queen, how is she a nonentity? Habibi Fenris should have been in the Shadow Dragons, spitting on the ground after being approached by Solas to join his uprising (lol what uprising amirite). Ok I'm cooking hire me Bioware 🍳 but at least they can remain untainted by the Isabella Treatment (tm)

This leads into the yeeting of the Keep, world states, choices, and hypocrisy around claiming to want to level the playing field for new players. No, all I can see is - it was treated as a buffet that they picked from as it suited. This is the one disappointment I will never let go of. Facsimile's of beloved character cameos were tossed in, you could not really talk to them outside of what limited dialogue you were allowed. Certain world states are now canon apparently - Dorian being recruited in the Inquisition, Morrigan drinking from the Well etc. You want a reboot and you've committed to tossing the choices and burning down Thedas (literally)? Go down with GLORY! Have all the previous main characters/companions alive. Have them all mentioned, even in passing. A portrait on a wall. Say goodbye to them, get your reboot. Honour what you built your business on. But yeah, Emmrich and Harding get to have their picnic in Fereldan fml bye

The argument of: well, the games are old now, it shouldn't matter. Ah - not too old to capitalize on the IP and DA name? Not too old to use some cameos to lure old players? The argument of - it was too many choices to track. Ok cut them down, but don't go scorched earth? 3 choices, mostly irrelevant to those who don't care about Solas (could never be me), and then literally telling you everything else in the South and Weisshaupt is now razed to the ground. But also the illuminati did everything.

FINALLY - the Inquisition should have been in charge of the hunt for Solas, hill I will die on. Fine, have Rook, but Inquisitor should have been the other protagonist. The people... who knew Solas best and betrayed by him... who were in an organization to save the world... Why did we have that cunty dagger stabbed into the map of Tevinter cliffhanger to have the Inquisitor reduced to a pyjama wearing husk BIOWAAAAAAAARE

It's this stuff that builds up, and makes me think - does this game hate its fanbase and source material that much? I very obviously need to go touch some grass 🤠

I keep engaging with Reddit, Tumblr, Twitter - all to my detriment because it makes me feel like there's something wrong with me for not loving it, all over again. I also desperately have a fic in me I would love to write, an ode to the story in my head from years of loving the world of Thedas, a love letter to my Lavellan and others - but idk what to do with the post-DATV world atp. I just want to get through Act 2/3, get my Solavellan smooch, ignore the ~secret Illuminati ending, and be grateful I'm not a Mass Effect fan so I don't have to go through this again 🐣

[woofwoof-bitch]

I think the funniest thing about the deviled egg realization is she gave me exactly 2 eggs and then quickly put the rest away. As if that were going to deter me from opening the fridge and getting more myself later, which I just did.

Ma’am i’m a raccoon with the height of a small human those aren’t safe from me anymore.

[qqqqqqqqqqq0]

i've been having some trouble falling asleep lately

[bri-sonat]

i have. thoughts. many of them.

Warmth of Your Doorways - Chapter Seven

Jane Murdstone x dressmaker!Reader

A/n: In collaboration with @daydream-cement 🖤 If you wish to be added to the taglist please send me a DM!

Summary: Unbridled Rage.

November 6th, 1856

There will be no salvation for me. 

Time and time again, she came back to me. She begged for my love and what did I do? I called her a harlot. I degraded her and told her she was tarnishing my family reputation. 

Marjory refuses to speak to me and I cannot blame her. I hate myself as well. I know this is due to the hatred I have for myself due to my love of the fairer sex. I thought I had stamped out the flame of internal hate when I began loving the seamstress, but yet it was still glowing bright within me each time that sweet face brightened my doorstep. 

I am tortured as I relive those moments. She told me she regretted ever loving me. How I must have caused her such agony for her to ever say such a thing. 

This household is my personal hell. My only friend finds me despicable, my brother is proud of me for ‘remaining strong in my virtues,’ and my one true love hates my entire being. She deserves so much better than me, but I feel the need to rush to her and apologize. I want to crawl on my hands and knees through the depths of Hell in order to prove my repentance. She must understand that I have meant none of what I have said. 

Far too long, I have been held under my brother’s control. I must break free of this hold. I am not who I wish to be when he is near. I am not the woman my darling little violet deserves when I give his opinion more weight than is deserved.

I must find her. I must fall to my knees and let her know she is my one and only true love. I must do everything in my power to earn back her trust and love.

- J.M.

It had been over a week since Jane had seen you last. She could hardly eat, nor sleep, since her brother arrived nearly two weeks ago. The only task she found herself capable of was to reread her diary over and over, reminiscing the love you had shared.

After tonight’s diary entry however, she was feeling far less helpless. Her words filled her with a new sense of urgency - the need to be at your side and beg for forgiveness.

The next morning she awoke with the same vigor, gathering herself as best she could. She pinned her hair into place, put on her best dress, and gathered some of your favorite flowers from her garden before striding down the gravel walkway towards the shop. Her knees felt as though they would give out at any moment, her breathing rapidly increasing the closer she got to you. Her mind raced with every possibility, good and bad; you forgave her, you didn't forgive her, you loved her still, you hated her, you rushed into her arms, you spat in her direction-

Whatever the outcome, she knew she was responsible for it, and now it was her time to fight for you.

The shop loomed over her, and she felt a great weight in her chest just looking at it. She briefly recalled the first time she stepped foot inside, the first time she met you; how her heart had stuttered, her cheeks had flushed, how she couldn't get you out of her thoughts no matter how hard she tried. In this moment she longed for those early days, carefree and falling in love.

Unsure whether she was still welcome to use the back entrance, she chose instead to enter through the front door, the bell above it seeming far too loud. The shop was quiet, and Jane was surprised to see your workbench empty.

Much emptier than usual.

Odd.

She waited for a few moments, her stomach twisting in knots at the thought of seeing you again, still unsure what your reaction to her would be after she'd been so cruel-

"You're too late, I'm afraid."

The thick scottish drawl pulled her attention towards the back of the shop, where Mary was cleaning up after a day's work.

"I'm sorry?"

Mary laughed, continuing to wipe down surfaces and tidy up loose threads and needles.

"Well, perhaps if you'd said those words a little sooner you wouldn't be in the mess you are now, now would ye?"

Jane held her tongue against the blunt retort that lay on it. She knew she was in the wrong, and if getting to you meant getting through those around you, then so be it.

"Well, I'm here now, with every apology I can think of prepared. Is- Would I be able to see her? Please?"

The "please" caught Mary off guard- Jane Murdstone was not one to ever start or end a request with "please". Mary felt her resolve soften towards Jane, only a little, enough to be more upfront with her.

"Unless you're willing to hop aboard the next train, I'm afraid not Lass. She left for France shortly after you two had your final falling out. Said she couldn't live in a place where you existed and didn't love her anymore."

Jane had to steady herself on the nearest wall, a sudden wave of nausea overcoming her at Mary's words.

But I do love her.

I love her, I love her, I love-

"Thank you, Matron."

Jane all but stumbled out of the shop, the flowers she held in her hand tossed to the dirt as she strode back home.

You'd left. You were gone without so much as a goodbye- and why would you say goodbye to her? All of the cruel, hurtful words she'd thrown at you, the way she'd turned her back on you; she'd left you first. No explanation. No closure. The only difference was you'd seen fit to separate the two of you by countries. Could she really fault you for that, after all she'd done to you?

Upon returning to her cottage, the ravenette slammed the door behind herself. Her hands repeatedly combed over her hair, frantically thinking over what Mary had told her. How could you have gone all the way to Paris in a matter of days? Perhaps if she were to speak with Marjory, she could-

“Where have you been?”

The voice startled Jane from her thoughts and she was immediately filled with unbridled rage as she lay her eyes on the intruder who had opened her front door: Edward Murdstone.

“I find that it is really none of your business where I have been.”

Edward strode into the room, almost as if it was his own home, “Lord Barclay was here waiting to meet you Jane, but you deliberately ran off, no doubtably to commit some heinous sin.”

“Lord Barclay? Whatever for?” Jane snarled, remembering the older gentleman from moments in passing when he came to work with Edward.

“To marry you, of course.”

Jane saw red.

“You bastard! How-” Jane’s hands found the upper right hand corner of the bookshelf, and with a flourish of extreme strength, the ravenette pulled the ornately carved bookshelf to the floor. The right side of the shelf hit the wood table a few feet away, both pieces of furniture cracking and splitting upon impact. The sound of shattering glass of picture frames and the loud thuds of books hitting the floor filled the air, but none of it was as loud as the silent rage that radiated from Jane. The raging woman finally finished her thought as the sounds died down, “DARE YOU?!”

Edward was taken aback, unable to respond to his sister's rage; never had he seen her act in such a manner.

Jane’s volume only increased, her voice a full fledged scream, “YOU TOOK HER FROM ME! YOU ROBBED ME OF LOVE! AND NOW YOU DO THIS?! Are you so desperate in your need to control me that you must ruin my life at every turn?” She was snarling and spitting as she kicked though the mountain of books, wading closer to her brother.

“I-I-”

“ANSWER ME!” Jane roared, reaching out to a nearby decorative hurricane lamp, pushing it to the floor with a swift motion resulting in a crash of glass shattering.

Edward’s choice of response was to yell in return, grasping Jane by her wrist in an effort to keep her from breaking anything further, “Pull yourself together!”

“PULL MYSELF TOGETHER? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PULL MYSELF TOGETHER WHEN YOU CONTINUE TO KEEP ME FROM LOVE? I am so lonely, Edward... or at least I was until I MET HER AND YOU FORCE ME TO SEND HER AWAY. For what, Edward? Why?” Jane’s tone fluctuated as her thoughts flew from her mouth, tears beginning to spill from her eyes at the pure anger and sorrow she felt. She wasn’t withholding anything from her brother any longer. Today, he was receiving the full force of her wrath, “First it was Sarah, and then Elizabeth, and then mother and you forced me into a-a SOLITARY CONFINEMENT where I was forced to be at your side as you made a mockery of father’s name.”

With two long strides, Jane crossed the room of her home, eyes settled in on the China cabinet as she was determined to destroy every last bit of beautiful ceramics in her home.

Edward followed after her, his own rage building at her insinuation that he could be a disgrace to their family name, “You are the one making a mockery of our family’s name by- by... choosing to be so unnatural!”

His hand wrapped around her forearm, and in her frenzied rage, Jane’s free hand swung around at full force, clawing at her brother’s face and sending him to the floor. She loomed over him, her mind racing as she searched for an additional way to harm him. Jane needed him to understand the agony she felt inside.

Swiftly she gathered two of the fallen books from the floor, lifting the novels over her head and launching them downwards at her brother, “UNNATURAL? UNNATURAL? DO YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE FACED YEARS OF INCCESTANT ABUSE FROM YOU AND MOTHER IF I HAD CHOSEN TO BE LIKE THIS?”

Edward shifted away from Jane, scrambling across the floor as the books hit him. He was in utter fear of his sister. He had no excuses for his past or present behavior, and even if he did, Edward knew Jane had no true interest in hearing them. He had yet to notice the blood dripping down the side of his face from where Jane had struck him.

“GET OUT!” Jane blared, her voice becoming raw and hoarse from screaming louder than she ever had before. She repeated those same two words as she reached out and lifted piece after piece of fine China, throwing each of them against the far wall, “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT-”

When Edward lifted himself from the cottage floor he launched himself towards the front door, quickly throwing it open and spinning back to attempt to steal back some of the power away from his sister, “You will marry Lord Barclay by the end of the month and that is final.”

His bravery was only momentary as he quickly slammed the front door shut, saving himself from the pieces of china being hurled towards him. As Edward stalked away from the home, he could hear Jane’s screaming from inside, but her words were hard to make out. Her cries of despair and the sounds of breaking glass and furniture would continue far into the night as Jane mourned for the loss of her love and freedom.

--

Tags: @weemssapphic @bitch-we-have-a-hulk @yourlocaldisneyvillain @renravens @thegoddamnfeels @dvrkhcld @blessmysouljessisonaroll @opheliauniverse @ahsfan05 @ness029 @carnivorousflowers @willowshadenox @mysaviorfalsegod @myzzjolanda @bigolgay

[princessbrunette]

shittysoundcloudrapper!jj was persuasive and he knew it. it took barely any convincing anyway, his pretty best friend was just so whipped for him.

“look all i’m sayin’ is all this could be yours.” he fans the money out, staring you down with the ghost of a smirk as you lounge on his bed. you push your mouth into the corner, considering his offer as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. it’s not that you didn’t trust jj, you did — you’d just never been so exposed before. his friends would hear this song, strangers would hear this song — you almost couldn’t believe he was asking to record your moans as a backing track for his beat. as you think, your smile grows — the blonde creeping towards you until he’s stood right infront of you, looming over your curled seating position.

“c’mon mama, you smell that?” he caresses your face with the wad of money, running it over your cheek and beneath your nose. “yeah. that’s that paper. hard earned benjys. you wanna help me out, don’t you? know you do.” he cooes and you’re hypnotised, nodding your head with fluttering lashes. it’s times like this he was glad to have you under his thumb.

it’s later on in the evening that things are ready to commence. perhaps when you’d agreed to help jj out, he wasn’t quite clear on the task at hand. yes, he wanted your moans for his backing track — but he didn’t want you stood infront of a mic, awkwardly recreating a scene from pornhub premiums. no, he was after the real deal. authenticity. method acting, so he called it.

“‘cus like, i’on know what’s worse. a chick faking an orgasm when you’re fucking her, or faking it just for the sake of your music. nah, i think… we’re close enough to make the real thing happen. like — for artistic expression… purposes.” he explains as he sets up his little mic, pulling a pair of headphones over his ears to check the sound. “check, check.” he drawls into the mic before nodding in approval.

“so how are we gonna…” you furrow your eyebrows, always having been on the more innocent side of the sex spectrum. before you even get to attempt to verbalise your confusion, the blonde lifts his head — responding like it was no biggie.

“oh, i can totally go down on you. ‘f’thats cool.” his tongue darts out to swipe at the corner of his mouth and you feel your eyes widen. “really you just gotta lay there n’hold the mic. easy as shit.” he shrugs, finally sitting down and looking at you expectedly as you gawk.

“wait, really?” you giggle. you’d thought about it many times, jj maybank between your legs — but now it was all too real, and you didn’t know it would be happening so out of the blue, practically a business proposition. he’s in your space again, cupping your cheek in that way that was far too familiar to just be friendly.

“look — babe, you don’t gotta worry about things being weird, alright? i’m a munch, like actually — aaaand, are you tellin’ me right now, you would say no to a little head? i mean if you don’t want me to eat it you can always y’know, DIY—” he gestures a circular rubbing motion with his middle and ring fingers, alluding to getting yourself off instead. “little dj action. just need the moans to be real. m’going all out director mode here.” somehow, the thought of touching yourself infront of jj was more humiliating — so you shake your head, sucking on your lip in thought.

“no, you can do it.” you whisper and he grins.

“yeah? atta girl. what a team player.” your best friend praises before kissing you quickly on the mouth. something he always did, platonically — but now made your heart speed up a ridiculous amount.

as you lay back shakily on the bed, you think back on the lyrics scrawled in messy handwriting in the notebook he’d leave lying around — the contents pointing to him really being about that eating pussy life. something like ‘sucking all on her clit like it’s my lifeline — she asked to return the favour, already got mine’ underlined in red biro.

it’s a blur after he hits record, kissing on your thighs making you giggle and rubbing you until there’s a wet spot through the cotton of your panties. you know he’s smiling, because you can feel the upwards curve of his mouth when he starts kissing you through the fabric. you’re pleasing him just from letting out the sweetest whimpers, challenging himself to get you to moan louder for the sake of his song.

it’s not long before he’s got you bare from the waist down, legs fanned wide open with his arms round your thighs. by this point, he has to remind himself not to talk as to not disrupt the recording — and you’re doing him proud, not even having to try to release the most breathy, beautiful sounds that he knew would be perfect on the track.

you get pouty as soon as the whole things over, deciding your best friend was a total sicko. he’d gotten all kissy on you, wet lips smushed against yours, his eyes all hazy from arousal as he makes you taste yourself, murmuring about how you did such a good job for him before wandering off shamelessly to the bathroom to jack off. you get shy, still oozing your release onto his grey-blue bed sheets thinking back on the way you begged him to talk you through it. he was focused on his producing, but he couldn’t resist on whispering “there y’go pretty mama. lemme hear it, good girl.” whilst you cream on his mean fingers.

no one seems to think it’s a big deal but you, his friends john b and pope often lazing around his place smoking weed and playing on the playstation, totally unresponsive to jj sat sprawled on the couch with his laptop on his lap, chopping and editing away on some shitty producer plugin — your moans occasionally playing around the room as he clicks away, tongue between his lips in concentration, backwards cap snug over messy blonde strands.

the boys chime in with an occasional comment. “sounds dope, man.” pope hums out brainlessly as he stares at the tv, thumbing aggressively at the console joystick, the brunette beside him quick to agree.

“no yeah, sounds good.” he agrees, eyes even darting towards where you’re curled on the couch painting your toenails, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing.

when he drops the song, he promotes it everywhere — and whilst you asked for no credits for your… addition, it seems to go without saying that you’re the girl on the song, no one else even in question as wherever jj goes you’re seen hanging off his arm. his friends might not make a big deal, but you notice the stares when you go out.

rafe cameron has the audacity to corner you at the juice bar, wearing a smirk that just told you that he knew. “yeah uh, love your friends little song.” he stares you down, egging on a reaction. “been playin’ it on a loop for some reason.”

you avoid his eyes. “yeah, it’s pretty good.” you shy away, but he blocks your path.

“mm, for sure, yeah but uh, you— you know i could have sworn i recognised the… female voice in the back. got any idea who that might be or…?” his smirk only grows, licking his lips as he looms over you.

“nope…” the doe eyes give you away.

“huh, ‘cos it kinda sounds like a pretty girl i know.”

you run and tell jj, all sniffly and regretful — knowing that snitching on rafe to jj is only going to cause problems. his reaction is less defensive and aggressive than you imagined, instead leading you through to his bedroom by the waist.

“look, bae — people are gonna talk, alright? doesn’t mean shit. sure as hell don’t care about what rafe thinks.” he sits you down, standing above you as he curls a hand under your chin affectionately. “but hey, if the money wasn’t enough— think i can make it worth your while. y’wanna lay down for me, sweets? no mic this time. jus’ me and that pretty pussy.”

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Making Porn With The Number One Pro Hero

Pairing: Toshinori Yagi (All Might/Skinny Might) x Fem! Pro-Hero! Reader.

Warnings: NSFW, Smut, Jealous sex (?), Mirror sex, Oral sex (fem receiving), Secret ((established)) relationship, Recording sex (so y'all make porn), Minor hair pulling, Semi-public sex, Intercourse (P in V), Daddy Kink, you two are almost caught in the act, mention of you two previously being caught in the act, I finally used a condom!! (I usually write about creampies but this time I didn't), Some bitch tries to touch our All Might but fails, We accidentally punch her in the face, Toshi is pussy whipped.

Summary: You have a sex dream about your boyfriend which leads to a fantasy, All Might wants to achieve that fantasy with you after you punch another All Might slut in the face. The fantasy doesn't TOTALLY go to planned.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 2.

Writing Time: 7 hours (with no breaks, longest amount of time I've ever spent on a fic).

Word Count: 3,308.

A/N:

Day 2 of Kinktober! Enjoy!

The introduction is ridiculously fucking long, idk why but skip to the first —-//— if you're like me and only interested in the sex. I hate the beginning part anyway and it's very obvious my writing has suffered from my hiatus, but oh well. It will get better.Technically you get railed by Skinny All Might in his Silver Age suit, hope that's ok.I have to give this thing a part 2 at some point, this is way too hot and I'm so proud of it.

I kept writing then deleting then rewriting this shit (which is why it took 7 hours) so y'all better let me know if you like it :)

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Being in an secret relationship with the Number 1 Hero was difficult to say the least.

Having to sneak around everyone was fun and slightly erotic at first, but slowly became annoying and a bit painful at times.

You had recently told Toshinori about a sexy fantasy you had of him. To have him fuck you in his dressing room right before an interview, ideally from behind in front of a mirror whilst you record, you two had made porn before (for only you two's eyes, no one else's!!) so recording sex wasn't new to you guys.

Toshinori had giggled like a little schoolboy and covered his growing erection when you told him about your little fantasy, and said it sounded very hot. But after you kissed him and gave him a handy right then and there, he calmed down a bit and explained to you how unlikely it was to happen, he feared someone would walk in and catch you both (one person had before) and possibly tell someone.

Sadly your lover had made it clear countless times before he didn't want a public relationship for the sake of protecting you and others. You understood completely and was happy Toshinori valued protecting you over everything, but that didn't mean you didn't long to hold his hand in public.

Very few knew about you two; Young Midoriya, David Shield, Sir Nighteye (RIP) and Aizawa (Aizawa finding out was an accident, he had caught you two in a compromising position in Toshinori's classroom after school hours). But you both was content with those who knew about you two, you trusted all of them, and didn't plan on adding anyone else to the list.

Early on into your pro-hero career, you were introduced to one journalist and news reporter who you honestly couldn't remember the name of. She was young and very attractive, no doubt becoming the face of her news station because of her pretty face and impressive figure. She was well known to interview pro heroes and flirt with them, and unsurprisingly lot of them would flirt back.

She had interviewed All Might a few times and like usual she would flirt a lot. He'd see straight through her and politely respond in a professional way, so you had no problems with her because you trusted your boyfriend to shut down her advances. She wouldn't be the first girl to throw themselves at the Number 1 Hero and definitely wouldn't be the last, so you were used to seeing Toshinori be placed in uncomfortable situations which made you feel bad for him but due to your relationship being a secret you didn't feel like it was your place to cut in. But Toshinori always handled it well.

One interview you didn't see coming though.

It was a standard scheduled interview on set of a news station, like Good Morning America or something. Several pro heroes were in to be interviewed, including both you and All Might. With All Might becoming weaker and weaker by the day and unable to hold his form for long periods of time, this was his last scheduled interview. And you were so happy you could be there with him.

You were lucky enough to be able to be interviewed with your boyfriend.

"So, Mr All Might, I'd love to go over some of your best fights of your career..." The news anchor smiled and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Of course! I'd love to!" All Might grinned.

For the millionth time? Really? You rolled your eyes.

"BUT before we do that, I'd like to talk about your more personal life first..." She grinned back, moving closer to him on the long couch you were all sharing.

You moved uncomfortably in your seat and looked around, not really knowing what to do with yourself.

"Ok, sadly I can't promise I can all questions about my personal life but you can absolutely ask." All Might smiled.

"Great! So... you have had quite a long career as a pro hero who is very much so in the public eye, I imagine forming and keeping relationships in your personal life can be difficult?" She asked.

All Might moved his head to both sides as if he agreed and disagreed with her assumption, "Well it's definitely not easy forming them, but keeping the ones I have been lucky enough to form is easy. I'm very lucky to be surrounded by friends and family who I know care about me both as All Might and Toshinori."

The reporter nodded, "Right. As you mentioned family, are you planning on starting a family?"

You raised an eyebrow, feeling although the question was a bit strange.

All Might laughed, his laugh boomed loudly in your poor ears, "HA HA! Oh no Dear, I don't so. I am an old man now, I unfortunately missed the opportunity for a family years ago."

You and Toshinori had only briefly discussed children, you desperately wanting a child later on in your career and Toshinori feel although being Number 1 Hero made having kids not an option and that by the time he retired he was too old. It wasn't really a conversation you two had managed to find a conclusion to, so you were a little annoyed All Might was talking as if it had been decided.

"Well a lot of young ladies like older men, Sir. I know I sure do. And a lot of young ladies would be more than willing to bear The All Might's children." The reporter giggled and moved closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

She had never actually touched him before.

All Might chuckled uncomfortably and carefully leaned back to make her hand fall off him, but her hand stayed put. Without really thinking, you leaned over and picked up the foreign hand on your boyfriend's shoulder, and threw it back into the reporter's face. She almost punched herself in the face with her own hand.

You gasped and stood up, "Oh I'm sorry!"

You really didn't mean to do that. You were only trying to get her hands off your man. You hadn't meant you almost punch her.

She quickly fixed her hair and glasses and glared at you for only a split second, before laughing nervously and looking into the camera in front of all of you, "Oh Dear! No worries! We can edit that out, this isn't live."

The cameraman nodded at her and three of you continued your now incredibly awkward interview. All Might breathed a small sigh and grabbed your hand, you couldn't tell what the sigh was for.

—-///—-

Backstage you were sat at your vanity table with your head down on the desk, sighing sadly. You felt so embarrassed, you should of just left Toshinori handle her unnecessary touching. The interview went terribly after that and the reporter remained cold to you until the end.

You were also concerned about people questioning your actions, why were you so concerned about some girl touching All Might? It was such a obvious sign of jealously. Oh Well... at least she didn't touch him again.

A small knock was pressed against your dressing room door and without a response it was opened, "Darling?"

All Might.

He stepped into your room and closer the door behind him as you turned to face him. He immediately deflated in front of you, leaving his skinny scrawny figure in place.

"Hi Love." You sighed and walked over to him.

He quickly wrapped his long arms around you, pulled you close and began kissing your neck.

You blinked in shock, "Toshi?"

"Oh my Love. I never thought I'd ever see you jealous." He whispered against you before biting down on you skin.

You moaned in delight, "S-So you're not mad?"

"Why would I ever be mad Princess?" He laughed a bit, in his Skinny form his laugh sounded so good and didn't burst your eardrum.

Toshinori carefully walked you back over to your vanity table and placed you down in your vanity chair and stared down at you. You looked up at your lover with nothing but love and lust and crossing your legs, feeling yourself get hot down there.

With you sitting down and him standing in front of you, you could see the massive bulge in his pants. Whilst shamelessly staring at his covered dick, you hiked up your legs and pulled everything covering your lower half off and happily showed your lover your wet pussy. You felt no shame (he had seen it all before anyway), only the desire to be fucked. Finally, your filthy fantasy was coming true.

"Oh my Love..." Toshinori sighed again at the completely lewd sight of you and dropped to his knees.

He grabbed your thighs in his massive hands and gave your pussy a sweet kitten lick. You threw your head back and moaned again. He started kissing and licking you slowly before sucking.

God, his tongue felt good. You were going to lose yourself to it.

"Oh baby I want you so much..." Toshinori whispered in between eating you out, whilst pulling you closer and closer to his hungry mouth, scaring you for a brief second into thinking you'd fall out of the chair.

It was dangerous but Toshi wouldn't let you fall, ever.

You pulled his head up from your heat and he whined, "Toshi... I'm so empty now...you need to just fuck me..."

Your lewd expression and hushed tone only made him strain against his suit. Without thinking much, Toshinori stood up and ripped a hole into the crotch area of his Silver Age suit.

You gasped, "Toshi! Your suit!"

"This suit can be fixed, Dear. But later I'll need you to go to my dressing room and bring back something to wear when we're done." He smiled softly while pulling you up and out of the chair.

Toshinori picked up the chair by the armrests and placed it against the door, locking you both in. He turned back to you and smiled again.

You smiled back before turning against and bending over against the vanity table, giving your lover another nice view of your ass and pussycat. You watched him in the mirror grin at your behind and give you a nice loving smack. You bit your lip from the harsh contact and moved your legs further apart for him.

"Fuck..." Toshinori whispered, he was incredibly turned on by the sight of you bent over showing him everything you had to offer.

He quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a Trojan, ripping the wrapper off with his teeth and pulling it down his proud length. You could tell by his fast movements, he was just as eager to get inside of you as you was.

Toshinori then rubbed your aching entrance with his great throbbing cock. You whined for him to just put it in and he was happy to appease you.

Toshinori always started with slow gentle strokes only with the tip but that wasn't good enough for you now, he had already worked you up from eating you out just a few seconds earlier and the idea of your fantasy had you too desperate now. So you whined again and tried to fuck yourself on his cock at the pace you need. Toshinori caught on pretty quickly and grabbed your hips and pulled you fully around him.

Both of you groaned from the sudden action. Toshinori began moving again, this time fast and rough. You managed to pick up your phone that you had left on the table, turn on the camera, point it at the mirror in front of you and hit record.

The sight was beyond erotic. The Number 1 Hero drilling his secret lover from behind in dressing room on set of a news station. God, it made you so wet. The grin on your face with your moans made it evident.

Because of the mirror, both of you were able to see each other's faces. Toshinori's brow full of sweat and mouth covered in your cum and his own salvia was godly. Not to mention his look of determination as he continued pounding you brought you closer and closer to edge.

"All Might!" You cried, not really hearing yourself over the sound of his balls slapping your cheeks.

But he heard you (and possibly some others in the building) and he groaned in your ear, "Princess! Oh my good little girl!"

Fuck!

He knew calling you 'little girl' made you crazy.

"Oh All Might please!" You begged.

You knew you sounded like a bad pornstar, but you didn't care. You knew Toshi loved it and was about to give into your begging.

But before he could, the worst thing you could imagine happened next. A loud knock on the door.

"Miss?"

Both you and Toshinori froze and stared at each other in the mirror in fear and shook.

"Y-Yes?!" You answered.

"Miss, your driver is here waiting for you. They are outside." It was likely one of the crew members of the station. They turned the door handle, shooting fear through you so bad you could scream, but it didn't open.

The chair Toshinori had put against the door temporarily saved you two. Realising this, he slowly began moving inside of you again. You moaned softly at the feeling and quickly covered your mouth with your free hand (hand not holding up your phone that was still recording).

The crew member must of wondered why the door wasn't opening, considering none of the dressing room doors had locks on them for safety reasons, but didn't ask why or for you to open the door and instead just let go of the handle.

"Oh o-okay...t-thank you. Out in a miiintue!" You quickly choked out.

"Great. Do you happen to know where Mr. All Might is? His car arrived first but he isn't in his dressing room."

"Nooo!" You whined.

You could see the see the evil smile on your boyfriend's face in the mirror. No question, you were going to (try to) kick his ass after this.

"Ok, no worries. Thank you for coming Miss!"

Footsteps were heard leaving the door, presumably to go find your man. Toshinori laughed slightly and pulled your head back by your hair and started moving at the same fast pace he was before.

You groaned at the small pain and glared up at your soulmate, "You like torturing me, asshole?"

"Maybe a little." He smiled.

"Oh please just make me cum, Toshinori." You sighed, giving him your best doe eyed desperate-for-sex expression.

Your lover was more than happy to fulfil your request. This was definitely by far would be the best sex tape you two ever made.

—///—

Later on the two of you were getting ready for better, you had finally finished your night skin care routine and was headed back to you and Toshinori's shared bedroom. He was still up reading a book in bed like usual, he looked and smiled when you walked into the room.

"Toshi," You began as you got comfortable in the bed, "What changed your mind today?"

"About what, Love?" He asked and put his book away to pull you closer to him.

"When I told you about my sex dream, you said it wouldn't happen." You pouted at him.

Toshinori's cheeks darkened, "Well, you got me all hot and bothered during the interview."

"How?" You raised an eyebrow.

"I like to see you handle touchy women for me." Toshinori smiled shyly now.

"Oh really?" You giggled, "You like having a jealous girlfriend?"

"A bit, yes." He admitted.

"Aw... maybe I should set them straight more often." You grinned and kissed his neck.

Toshinori shivered, both from the idea and the attention you was suddenly showing his neck, "Yes please...good girl."

You felt your heat burn at his words as well as his erection grow under the duvet and you eagerly wanted to head down under the duvet. But you both still had something to say.

"I'm sorry love, I was just a little scared about people finding out about us, and being intimate outside our home has got us caught before...and I feel like we already take a big risk with recording our moments together." Toshinori sighed.

"So you don't want to record anymore?" You looked heartbroken.

"Oh no, Princess! Of course not!" He pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist (you could feel his lover's boner, which you wonder if he forgot about), "I love have something to remind myself of our best moments."

"We don't have to record anymore if you're worried it could get out." You replied, still looking sad.

"Honey, that's not what I was saying.." Toshinori kissed your head, "I love you and I love how excited you get by the camera. And I love watching our little videos."

You looked up at him, "I love you Toshi. And I just want you to be comfortable."

"I am comfortable, I'm always comfortable when I'm alone with you." Toshinori smiled.

You turned to look at him and kissed one of his sunken cheeks, "Ok... so if I keep your female fans in line... what will you do for me?"

"What do you want love?" Toshinori asked.

"I want a reward, All Might." You grinned and slowly stroked your lover's excited friend.

He shivered again. Mustering up all his strength, Toshinori transformed into All Might. His erection underneath you went from poking you ass to almost straight up penetrating you. A loud moan came from your throat, the ending of it was muffled from All Might gently pushing you off his lap and all the way down till you were face down onto the end of the bed and ass up.

The muscular blonde Silver Fox gently rubbed your ass with one hand whilst the other fought off this sweat pants (that did absolutely nothing to hide his lower reigns). Once his pants were off and his length was fully exposed, All Might picked up his phone from his nightstand, pointed the camera down at you and hit record.

"Little Princess... do you think my cock at full size is a good enough reward for being such a good girl for me?"

The camera got a very lovely shot of your wetness soaking through your sweatpants just from his words. You felt your cunt clench around nothing and you looked back at your lover.

"Yes please Daddy."

[irndad]

Oh my gosh!!! Don’t date coworkers was so cute!!! Would you be willing to do one similar with Hotch? <3

It shouldn’t bother him.

Aaron thinks of himself as someone who adores professional candor, and wishes that his team possessed it in spades. It’s not as though she is professional in almost any other aspect. She excels in personality, and if he had any shame, it would be harder for Aaron to admit what an actual delight she is to his daily life. 

She’s kind, in a way that he’s found is rare in this world. Asks about Jack, remembers what coursework he’s struggling in and remembers to ask. She knows his coffee order, which she ascertained from reading the cup. He’s quite fond of her. David is always telling him that life is short and that any girl would be lucky to date him. In less polite terms. 

She’s beautiful. 

She’s all soft smiles and warm disposition, and she’s easy to like. She’s always the first to anticipate your needs, and Aaron can picture how he’d slot into her life, a part of him can see what it would be like to pick her up in his lavish car and drive her to the office, spend the weekends basking in her company. He’d be a good partner- he’d known how, once, and he’d try for her. 

She doesn’t date people she works with. 

The fantasy has gone too far in many ways- a version of life in his mind that lingers. She has morning ritual, and he knows it’s a little creepy he watches it from the perch of his office. She pins her hair up and puts on a coat of her lipstick, before she inevitably forgets she’s wearing it, and leaves a lip-print on her cup. It’s hard not to imagine it with her sat on his kitchen counter. 

But he knows this is a boundary of hers- and even though it’s just in his fantasies, it feels…well, wrong to fantasize about her like that. He’d heard her loud and clear, telling officer Berbrook that she makes a point not to date anyone in the Bureau. It’s arrogant to think he’d be an exception. 

This morning, she’s earlier than he’s ever seen her in the office. She’s got big, wraparound headphones and a skirt on, and two cups. She’d gotten him coffee. He might burst. He speaks out her last name when she realizes he’s in the room, and internally, a warmth blooms in his chest at the wide open smile she grants him. 

“Hi, you!”

“You’re in early.”

“Mm,” she says, her mouth still full of coffee, endearingly eager, “I know, but that coffee shop you love had fritters, and I thought you’d like one.”

Off limits. He feels his eyebrows scrunch into a frown before he speaks. 

“You didn’t have to do that. 

“No one has to do anything. I wanted to. There’s two in there, one for Jack. They keep well.”

A completely ridiculously short amount of time passes before he’s able to speak again, or more accurately as Garcia would put it, word-vomit. 

“I heard officer Berbrook asked you out. That is absolutely inappropriate- would you like me to handle it?”

“Nah,” she says back, “It’s all good.”

“Morgan told me that you have a policy of never dating anyone you work with-“

“I said that about Berbrook, Hotch. It’s not like, an off-limits thing.” She looks down at her feet. Her shoes are green, Aaron notices, helplessly endeared, “y’know, with the right person…I wouldn’t want to close that door, do you know what I mean?”

Her doe eyes peer up at him, and he knows that she’s hear 30 minutes before anyone else is just to be able to get him food, telling him that she’s open to dating coworkers, and once upon a time he could’ve taken a fucking hint. 

In his younger years, when he was bolder and better able to ask for the things he wants, he might’ve asked her out right then. Might have run him and made a dinner reservation, somewhere with candle-light for an evening that would end with her being kissed against a wall or a car. 

But for now, he takes a bite of his fritter and makes some plans. If he’s got a shot with her, that’s a revelation that’s going to need some intense planning and preparing for. He’d like to woo her, if that’s something he could ever get to do. 

“Good fritter.”

“I know, right?” 

[obsessedwrhys]

THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS...

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ (modern au!!) Being in a toxic relationship with her. angst, some fluff in a fucked up way? common toxic relationship things, arguments, this song is her song idgaf what anyone says. reader is fem!! Didn't proof read cuz im sick and lazy ☹

ᯓ★

It still shocks you how you and Ellie were in a 2 years long relationship. Maybe that was one of the main reasons why you felt reluctant to end things with her. And adding on the image of your relationship built around your friends, you felt the pressure to keep it going because everyone thought you two were happy together.

They envied you.

They wanted what you two had.

If only they knew what you two really had...

"What the fuck was that?" Ellie cursed at you after slamming the front door shut behind her.

"You're the one saying that? I fucking saw you cuddling with your ex!" You said as you went in your shared room to put away your bag, she follows after you.

You two had just come back from one your friend's party but it seemed like things took a turn when you walked in the living room to find Ellie cuddled on the sofa with her ex, cigarettes and drinks in hand while they chatted like old friends. Not to mention a flirty smile on her face as you'd catch her staring down at her lips. It was enough to make your stomach twist.

"So what!? I already told you we're just friends! You fucking embarrassed me when you stormed off like that!!"

"And that gives you the excuse of cuddling with her?! You were flirting!!" You raised your voice at her after turning to face her.

"Why are you being such a fucking bitch?! You do that shit with your friends and you don't see me complaining about it!!"

"That's because I never FUCKED ONE OF MY FRIENDS!!" Your words making her scoff out of disbelief. Almost like the situation was too much that she was now finding it ridiculous.

"You wanna talk about fucking? How about we continue this conversation when you're not a slut?" She walks off, going to the bathroom to open the shower.

You were speechless. Your lips were parted but you didn't know how to respond. It was like you were too overwhelmed with rage that your brain couldn't even think of what words to form. Soon your body collapses on the bed and you ran your hands tiredly across your face.

The sound of the shower running in the background indicating that Ellie was really bathing after what she said to you. You were upset. You had the right to. But it wasn't only her words you were upset at, it was the realisation that this was your life now, this wasn't the first fight and will never be the last.

You were too focused on your emotions to even notice your eyes burning with tears. You were trying to stop yourself from letting them pour out but your mind was encouraging it to with the amount of sad thoughts they were making up. You tried to be quiet but it didn't matter either way because the shower was soon turned off.

You tried to cover your face with your hands the second the bathroom door opened. You couldn't bring yourself to look at her. To show her the effect she had on you. It was quiet for a painfully long minute until you heard her approaching you.

Surprisingly she sat herself on the bed beside you and wrapped her arms around your body, she was making you rest your head on her chest. You were still angry but somehow some part inside of you liked the warmth. The feeling of her gently running her hands through your hair and brushing them off your face seeming to make your frown fade.

"I'm sorry baby... I didn't mean that... I don't know what came over me" She said, her tone completely different from her tone from before.

"It's just I get frustrated when you start accusing me of things like that. I would never leave you for someone else. You mean everything to me"

Her words made you feel guilty.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

Maybe you were the problem...

"... I'm sorry. I was just scared that she might try something on you" You apologised as you changed your position to get closer to her.

"It's okay baby... don't cry... nothing will happen... I'm yours" She comforted.

You didn't bother thinking if it was a lie or the truth because you were too delusional to even see things realistically. The next morning you'd find yourself awake, laying alone on the bed. You were confused and sort of heartbroken...

Where did she go?

Did she wake up early?

You got up and wandered the house and the second you went in the kitchen, you were greeted with the smell of food. Your heart melt when you realised she had made you breakfast. Once she finally notises you in the kitchen, she smiles almost pleased with your reaction alone.

"Morning baby... thought I'd cook your favourite" She said and you didn't say anything but just kiss her on the lips which she happily kisses you back.

"Woow now... I have work later. You don't wanna make me late now" She grins at you but you simply ignored her by wrapping your arms around her neck.

"I love you" You smiled radiantly.

"Love you more"

Almost like the argument never happened, the next few days went on as it usually does. You two spending time on dates and doing whatever stupid things you'd be up to. Apparently your birthday was soon and you couldn't help but think of some plans. Your first plan was to choose to hangout with some friends the day before so you could spend your birthday with your girlfriend. It was perfect.

Who knows, maybe she'll even have plans for you?

Possibly a surprise?

The thought made you excited that you felt you couldn't wait anymore. Soon the day came, you had told Ellie about your plans with your friends and she seemed fine with your idea. Before you left she gave you a kiss on the cheek and a hug, the feeling making you all warm inside.

"Stay safe baby, I'm gonna miss you" She uttered.

"It's only for a day Ellie you're overreacting" You joked which she just shrugs with a sheepish smile.

"Whatever, just have fun" She said.

Just like that, you waved her goodbye as you left to the mall where you've agreed to meet up with your friends. You did multiple activities together, from playing go karts to exploring a cat cafe. It was everything you had hoped for. Eventually the activities ran out and you didn't expect the day to end that fast, with your gifts in hand, you bid all your friends farewell before heading home.

It was still 3 in the afternoon since you had thought it would take until 7 in the evening to try out all the activities you've planned out. But oh well, that means you'll have more time to spare. As you opened the front door, you noticed there were clothes scattered across the floor. Some clothes you didn't recognise. You consciously put your gifts on the coffee table before making your way further into the room.

The clothes acting as a trail for you to follow... into the bedroom? You noticed the door was opened slightly so you carefully opened it. The sound of it creaking making it more suspenseful than it should be. Your heart drop once you see the sight before you. It was Ellie, naked, on the bed with another woman. Her face couldn't be seen since she had her face nuzzled into her neck.

They were too dead asleep to even notice you standing at the doorway. Your body felt like it was burning from the amount of emotions you were experiencing all at once. You couldn't believe it. Again and again, you chose to forgive her, hoping she had changed but the reality was that you were just too much of an idiot for thinking she'd actually change for you.

Your hands clenched into a fist and from the rage, you grabbed the glass of water on the nightstand to pour it on them. The second their face came in contact with the water, they were jerked awake. The girl got up and you could see now it was no other than her ex. You scoff at the sight.

"What the fuck?! Who—" Ellie stopped talking once she realises it was you who did that. Her ex just staring at the two of you with a worried expression... cause you caught them... you caught her cheating.

"You told me she wouldn't be back early" She whispered to Ellie who quickly shushed her to shut up.

"You're fucking kidding me" You managed to say from the rush of the adrenaline pumping through you.

"I can explain all of this" Ellie said as she quickly puts on her shirt. You take a step back when she tried to approach you.

"No! Don't! I won't let you sweet talk me out of this!" You said which she made her stop herself from walking towards you. She stares at you, vulnerabilities in her eyes.

"I-It's not that. Baby I do love you, you mean everything to me"

"Cheating on me the day before my birthday..." You said that had her look away with a defeated sigh.

"I mean that little to you huh?" You smile weakly, tears already covering your burning cheeks.

"I wasn't cheating on you—"

"Shut up, get the fuck out of my house" You said and for a split second, the sadness in Ellie's eyes changed to pure anger.

"This is my fucking house too, I paid for this as well...!"

"It's under my name Ellie!"

"Bullshit!"

"Go ahead!! Gaslight me 'cause that's all you've ever been good at!"

"Oh so I'm the bad guy?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to put up with your shit?! You should be thankful I actually love you because nobody else would!!" She raised her voice. Her words like knives gutting you open.

"I think you should leave (Y/N)" Her ex, who's still on the bed had the nerve to speak. You glare at her but she just rolls her eyes away like she's playing innocent.

"... I can't do this anymore... not with you... we're done..." You stomped off and guilty enough, you had hope she would try to stop you from leaving... but she never did.

The next few days you'd find yourself living at a hotel. It wasn't too expensive or anything but it was enough to live for a while. You tried to get her off your mind by taking care of yourself but no matter how happy you felt, you would always find yourself at your lowest again. You couldn't even enjoy your favourite show without thinking of her.

Your favourite game.

Your favourite song...

Fuck you can't even enjoy anything at this point.

What's worst was that Ellie was trying her hardest to contact you after a day of leaving her. From texting you through your number to your socials, she wouldn't give up. Although you've told yourself to block her and forget it, a tiny parasite inside you was dying to see what she had to say. Eventually one night where you were too lost in your thoughts, you decided to unblock her to see the messages she sent you.

~

Ellie: Hey baby, I'm sorry for what happened. If you're ready to talk I'm here

~

Ellie: I didn't mean what I said

Ellie: I'm also sorry for shouting at you

Ellie: I know how much you hate it when I do that

~

Ellie: Please reply, I can't eat or sleep knowing what I did wrong

Ellie: I still care about you

~

Ellie: -Deleted Message-

Ellie: -Deleted Message-

Ellie: Ignore that

~

Ellie: Are you okay? I hope you're still okay

Ellie: I miss your smile

~

Last online a few minutes ago, you stared at the messages but your mind was elsewhere. Should you respond? What should you say? You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought of what to say until suddenly a phone call came in. You felt your soul left your body when you realised it was Ellie. She must have seen you were online.

With not much to do, you weigh your choices and decided to just answer. It was quiet as you had the call on speaker. Maybe this was a bad idea... you wondered until the sound of shuffling could be heard over the line.

"Hello? (Y/N)?" Ellie said, her voice sounded like she's been crying but she was trying to pull it together at the moment.

"Hi" You simply responded.

"Are you safe? You've been ignoring my calls" She said. There she goes again... acting like the fight never happened....

"We need to talk" You said with your eyes shut from how overwhelmed you were becoming just by hearing her voice.

"Okay..."

You took a deep breath then let it out slowly. Your mind repeating the words you've been rehearsing everytime you were in the shower. The words you've been dying to tell her ever since what happened.

"This isn't gonna work anymore. I think we should part ways, for both our sakes" You said. The line was dead silent for few seconds.

"I know I know baby... and I'm sorry for letting it happen but we can try again—"

"No...! You... ugh... you don't get what I'm tryna say. We can't. We never will be happy together. It's never going to work" You said and you could hear her voice shivering a bit when she takes a breath to process your words.

"Oh... huh... you're saying we should never see each other again?" She asks.

"Yeah..."

Her lack of response was killing you. Even though this was happening over the phone and not in person, yet her presence was still strong. You gripped on the blanket to use it as a way to ease your nerves.

"Are you sure that's what you want? Have you even thought it through? What if you regret this" She started blurting out questions before you could even answer.

"I won't—"

"And what about your things? You're just gonna abandon everything here? Abandon me?"

"I've already asked my friend to help me get my things tomorrow..."

"What about me? Please baby I need you" She cries on the phone and you couldn't help but feel yourself almost pitying her.

"You don't... you don't need me... you just needed someone to make yourself feel less alone. I've realised that now..." You said with all the strength left in you as your voice quivers.

"Sometimes I wish we never met... then I wouldn't be put through half this shit... that's why I'm ending things between us now... goodbye Ellie... and please don't make this harder for anyone" Without waiting for her to respond, you ended the call. Now you were in your hotel room, crying to yourself as you tried to muffle your screams.

After the messy breakup and getting your things back with the help of your friend, you were able to get a fresh start. Though there were some bumps on your road to healing, you didn't let that throw you off. With the good things going on in your life, you decided to go out with your friends to a party. You haven't gone to one in forever but you thought you deserved it after being so kind to yourself.

"I told you it was a good idea to come out with us" Your friend nudges you with a smile and you smiled back.

You felt happier as you finally wore the dress you've always wanted to wear, your makeup done perfectly according to your features and some cute earrings to finish the look. If the old you saw the new you now, she'd think you had gone mad. During the party, you decided to walk around meeting new people and getting yourself a drink. It was then you locked eyes with someone familiar.

Your eyes widened as you saw her.

It was Ellie and she still looked the same.

Despite seeing her again after all these months of healing, you were surprised to find yourself handling the situation well. Your chest was definitely burning but it didn't burn as bad as it first did in the first month of your post break-up, where even the thought of her made you want to have a meltdown. Instead of running away, you simply smiled at her.

Ellie, who was standing on the other side of the room watches as you smile at her before you turn to talk someone else. You were smiling. Laughing. Happier than you ever did when you were with her. It actually made her heart ache knowing she wasn't able to be the one to make you that joyful. Instead she was the one who tore you down.

With her drink in hand, she leans against the bar as she watches you continue chatting with your friends. A bittersweet look on her face. Maybe you were too good for her. Maybe, all she's ever good for was ruining a good thing like you. And in the end, that chapter of your life is soon over. You'll forget about her... but you will always be in her dreams...

[bluesidez]

Firefighter!Miguel Part 3

content warning: fluff, some mentions of Christianity because a lot of southern grandmothers are Christian (it shouldn't be anything that makes non-Christians uncomfy)

word count: 1.5k, not proofread

Prev | Next ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅𓌉◯𓇋 Masterlist

Firefighter!Miguel who listens with a skeptical face as the trio of teenagers in front of him explain how their car ended up upside down in a lake.

“We saw a squirrel and we couldn’t just hit it, that’s inhumane!”

“So, you roll your car down a ramp instead?”

The trio stare at him with building panic.

“There’s not a single scratch or bruise on any of you.”

It takes about ten seconds of empty space before one of them crumbles to the ground in faux pain.

“I-I can still feel the sunroof on my head!”

“And you’re grabbing your stomach to show that."

The three of them stared at each other for a second, then one of them starts to cry, "We didn't mean it!"

"We're sorry!"

"I told them to just drive over a bump, they didn't listen!"

They started to crowd Miguel, each telling a different story. Miguel didn't believe a single one of them but their dedication to this bit was admirable.

"Ok. Let's get your parents on the phone," Miguel's voice demanded attention. "The totaled car is enough of a lesson, but I'm sure none of your names are on this vehicle."

The boy in the middle curses and runs his hand through his hair, "My dad's going to kill me."

"I would hope they'd be more happy that you're alive," Jess came up next to Miguel with a helmet under her arm. Her slicked-back hair has started to frizz up from the sheer amount of work it took to get a car full of water back on the ground. "If you all didn't think fast enough, there's no guarantee that we would have made it here in time to rescue you."

Firefighter!Miguel who tried his best to calm down the worried parents.

Yes, their children were ok. No, no one was hurt. Yes, with the right insurance totaled cars can be covered. No, he's not sure how the car ended up upside down. Yes, firefighters do these rescues regularly.

No, he was not giving out his number.

"What did I say about that face?" Jess sang as she sat in the passenger seat of the truck.

"Just because you say it, doesn't mean I want it to happen."

"Maybe you should get a ring. That poor mother looked so hurt when you rejected her."

"A ring doesn't stop wandering eyes or hands," Miguel gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Jess sighs, "True. That's not stopping you from staring at your phone like a sad seal while we're waiting on calls."

Miguel tried his best not to let his shoulders slump. He was a captain, not one of those reckless teenagers, "You think I did something wrong? It's been a few days."

"Maybe they think you're busy? Maybe they're nervous. Maybe they're busy. I'm sure you'll get a text soon."

Firefighter!Miguel who jolts from his sleepy daze at every notification from his phone. The 24-hour shifts can be grueling.

One glance at his phone showed some magazine emails and the reminder of a show he was excited to see.

Firefighter!Miguel who finally gets your text message on the way to his car.

You wanted to take him up on the offer of stopping by your house to check out the gas line.

His sleepy state gained a new jolt of energy and he was able to utilize it to tap along to the radio all the way home.

"When you add this, he'll never even think about finding someone else."

"Is that so?" You laughed as you listened to your grandma explain her secrets of keeping a man. Even if you found it a little funny, borderline ridiculous, and extremely outdated, you knew she was dead serious. "And how do you get the man?"

Your grandma paused and smiled, "Are you sure you're ready to hear that?"

"If you're laying out all of your secrets, I might as well!"

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock and the ring of a doorbell.

"Well, looka here!"

You can hear the glee in your grandmother's voice as she opens the door.

"Look what the Lord brought me," she comes back to the kitchen with her arm wrapped around Miguel's arm. She's smiling brighter than ever. "And he had enough sense to bring back my good dish. Won't He do it?"

"Of course, I had to bring it back. How else could I thank you both and ask for some more at the same time?"

Miguel looked funny in your childhood home. A little out of place. Though when he opened his mouth it was like everything seemed right. He looked even funnier out of uniform. The joggers were doing something for you.

"You ready?"

You blinked a couple of times, coming back to Earth and steadying your wandering mind.

"Ready for...?"

"My poor child," your grandma grumbled to herself. "He came to go check on the house. Remember?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Of course! Let's go."

As you made your way to the door, your grandma made sure to pull you back.

"And remember what I told you, ok? You just need a dash of it."

"Grandma there won't be any cooking until I get my gas line fixed."

"I don't mean the cooking, child, I mean the-"

You coughed loudly to cover her growing voice. The older she got the more her brain-to-mouth filter faded away.

"I got it, grandma."

You were sure she was going to say something about a bedroom technique, but Miguel was probably standing closer to you both than your grandma thought.

He didn't need to know whatever your grandma was trying to say.

Firefighter!Miguel who was happy to have someone that truly piqued his interest after so long.

Some of his hookups were either growing too attached or getting too ballsy, stepping over several boundaries. The last girl he dated was in it for all of the wrong reasons, and the woman before that sunk him so low he never knew he could bounce back.

He told himself he wouldn't try to date any of the people he saved, but life was growing longer and he wasn't getting any younger. Plus, you did look really lovely in your patterned pajama pants and flour in places they shouldn't be.

Something about your struck a match against him.

Firefighter!Miguel who walked into your house with a calmer state than the last.

There was a blue tarp plastered over the hole in your home and some debris left over from the accident.

"Sorry for the mess," your voice was quiet enough that he had to hone in on it.

"I've seen worse."

You look back at him with shock then laugh when you see the silly grin on his face.

He walked deeper into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, "It's not too terrible. I actually went ahead and called the gas company because something like this needs to be solved immediately."

Your eyebrows raise, "So is it already fixed then?"

"Took them about a day, but yeah. Now we just need to focus on getting the rest of this worked out."

"Thank you, truly," you smile up at him as you shift your weight. "Well, I guess I should do something else then, huh? I don't want to waste too much more of your time.

He was off work. "I don't mind. Glad to help in any way I can."

"Do you know how long the repairs might take?"

Miguel clicks his teeth repeatedly, "From about a week to a couple of months. From what I see, you should probably grab a few weeks of clothes."

"Roger that, Captain," you salute him as you turn to go to your room.

Miguel quelled the tiny spark that those words brought to him.

Firefighter!Miguel who watches you kick something out of the way when you enter your room.

He caught a flash of purple as you turned the lights on, but whatever it was under your bed in one swift motion.

Firefighter!Miguel who leans against the doorway as you bend deep to pull out more clothes.

Why you didn't grab things that were already on hangers, he wasn't sure, but he wasn't upset at the view at all.

Firefighter!Miguel who wanted to see you again, so he invited you to the annual charity car wash that his unit gave.

"We wash cars for a decent price, sell some goodies, and we take some pictures for the firefighter calendar."

He saw your eyes light up at those words, "I think I would love to see that."

"And I would love to have you there."

"Would you, now? Should I invite more people?"

"Yeah, for charity. I think I'm mostly going to be happy to see you."

Miguel picked a bin full of your clothes up and walked them through the door to his car, not really ready to process whatever look you might have on your face.

He may have nearly slammed his hand into the door with how fast he was moving, but he hopes that he can see you again soon.

divider by: @gigittamic + @/benkeibear (Idk if you'll see this, but I hope you're doing alright!!!) ❤️‍🔥

a/n: It's so late and I definitely have work tomorrow but here I am because I have no self control.

If you want to be added to the taglist, sign up here!

taglist: @snails-doodles22 @xerorizz @questionable-behaviour @babygotl01292003

@slushycoookie @calig0sto @ghost-lantern @tatatida @haveclayeveryday

@corpsenightmarebride @samjinxx @earth2fae @maiyart @feegrh32 @jellyamour

@darkstalight82 @ladysimp @vampwin @vmpz8sauceee @sonicbutbutter

@leonsbimbogf @unwrittenletter @maxlinpetersen @beyondstarlight @madeofstar-dust

@leoeloo @just-simpins-blog @poisamm @thequeenreaders @tinybirdhidedout

@aly29a2001 @snakelore @tojishugetiddies @pigeonmama @darkstalight82

@prettygirleli @koikohib @jayskookies

[babywriter]

Janine liked to go to school diapered. It turned her on. It also took quite a bit of courage to do so as she was terrified anybody would find out her little secret. There had been a few close calls, but by now Janine had grown comfortable with her choice of underwear. She had also grown complacent and less worried about hiding it. So what if someone she didn’t know would see the waistband of a medical diaper? This was college and she was free. It did become more problematic when someone she did know ended up seeing it.

While Janine was picking her books up, she carelessly showed the tip of her padded underwear to Brenda. Brenda was not a friend. In High School, she had been a mean girl who had gleefully spread rumors about Janine. Of course, Brenda bursted out laughing when she saw the diaper.

“Oh my god. This is-WOW. You are such a baby, Janine.” A little too loud perhaps as people wondered what was going on. Janine looked troubled when she stood up.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh I think we need to talk.” said Brenda. She grabbed Janine’s hand and led her out of the class.

“What are you doing? Let me go.” Janine remained steadfastly calm as she didn’t want to provoke the other girl.

“I know what I saw.” said Brenda. “You didn’t need diapers before.”

“So what if I didn’t?”

“I’m just saying. It would be a shame if others found out…”

“Please don’t.” asked Janine. In hindsight, this was a terrible reaction as Brenda now held all the cards.

“Oh I shouldn’t, should I? Why not, huh? There’s nothing to be ashamed of by being a little miss pottypants. You know, what I’d love to do? Change your little diaper butt!”

“You won’t.”

“Yes, I will. I should probably check if you’re dry right now…”

“No, stop! Get away from me!”

“My, my. Baby has wet herself. We are definitely going to your place.”

Obviously, this wasn’t really optional, and Janine only begrudginly accepted so that Brenda would go away afterwards. Janine had an apartment to herself, which meant that she could openly indulge. A baby bottle in the kitchen, a few toys scattered here and there, a ridiculous amount of stuffies. Subtle signs that gave it away. Brenda looked at her victim with glee.

“Oh this is much better than my dorm. You must love it here. No mommy to tell you to clean up after yourself.”

The worst part was when Brenda went through Janine’s closet. Onesies, footie pyjamas, loads of diaper packs with adorable prints, little dresses and skirts.

“This is all so cute! I didn’t know you were such a cute little baby! We should tell everyone, don’t you think?”

“Brenda, please. You’ve done enough. Can’t you act like an adult and start minding your own business?”

“I need to start acting like an adult? I’m not the one pissing myself, baby. In fact, I think I should inform everyone.”

“NO!” Janine stomped her foot and laid down the law. This was not going to happen.

“No? YOU don’t get to say no, baby girl.” Brenda wrestled Janine’s pants away from her and put the girl on her lap, spanking her well-padded bottom until she started to cry. Pain was only a small part, there was also the humiliation and a surprising amount of excitement. This strange and contradictory mixture of emotions is what made her cry.

“If you act like a good little girl.” said Brenda. “You will be a very happy baby, but if you make mommy mad, you will NEVER live it down. Is that understood?”

Janine nodded while sobbing.

Brenda immediately moved in to become Janine’s around-the-clock caregiver. And just as quickly, Janine was forced into the 24/7 lifestyle she had fantasized about. Everything was done for her and an extreme set of rules was also put in place. Like wearing diapers and baby clothes at all times or only being able to “make cummies” if mommy deemed her diaper sufficiently dirty. And she had to beg for them while showing off how used her diaper was. The cummies were mommy’s business too. Only mommy could use the vibrator on Janine’s diaper. While Janine was forced into this lifestyle, she still went about her daily activities. Brenda had wanted them to go on. Thus, Janine went to school diapered and wearing a short girlish dress that barely covered the padding. In the front and in the back, there was a noticeable bulge, revealing that Janine perhaps wasn’t wearing normal underwear.

In the hallways, Janine was forced to hold Brenda’s hand. Not only that, she was constantly flushed from the looks she was getting. She did not relax until she was seated in the massive auditorium, where she could have some privacy by sitting in the back. Yet, when she felt she needed to go, she did not hesitate for one second as Mommy had trained her well. It is unfortunate that after the class, a friend of Janine came to see her. The diaper, well-used, now sagged just under the dress.

“Hi! How...are you?” said the friend.

“I-” Janine began.

“Baby, put your thumb in your mouth. She’s doing super well!” answered Brenda in her place.

The friend nodded and went away immediately after. Whatever this was, she wanted no part of it.

Naturally, Janine began to cry, thumb in her mouth. 

“Do you need your diaper changed?” asked Brenda, loud enough for any passerby to hear. The woman put her hand on Janine’s butt and squished it. “Yes, you do!”

Whispers of “what’s wrong with her” could be heard. For some reason, this broke Janine. It was all in the open so why resist?

“Mommy, I wanna go home.” she said. Teary, her whole thumb in her mouth, raising her dress with the other hand so everyone could see her diaper.

Janine’s reaction was marvelous as far as Brenda was concerned. Now, the girl was all hers.

“We can’t leave yet, baby. You haven’t done your cummies.”

“Please mommy, no…” Janine was absolutely desperate to avoid at least that.

“No, perhaps it’d be better in front of your parents…”

Under this thinly veiled threat, Janine began to rub the front of her diaper with great vigor. The first and only time she had been allowed to touch herself, even if through her underwear. The thick padding made it especially challenging. So did the crowd of onlookers. Perverts in their own rights for watching, and filming, Janine. Finally, she moaned loudly.

“I made cummies mommy!” she nearly screamed in a high pitch lisp.

“Good job, baby! I won’t bring you here again, I promise” Brenda said with a grin.

Indeed, Janine never went to college again. Instead, she was kept at home. Forced to use her diapers, she grew dependent on them. Forced to ask permission to make cummies, always while wearing a used diaper and often in public. Truly, a baby that was shown off at every opportunity. And all that humiliation just kept making Janine hornier.

[synthetickitsune]

Milk Swirls Of Destiny ✧ y.jh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x reader (gn) Genre: coffee shop au, fluff Summary: Yoon Jeonghan is mildly inconvenient at best and infuriating at worst. He's somehow the worst and the best coworker you have. Definitely the most annoying. Word count: 6.8k Warnings: food mentions A/N: he just lives rent free and his pretty best friend too and @hanniedream is holding me hostage in brainrot (aka being my partner in crime and emotional support and muse here) [series masterlist] [next chapter - wip]

“Aaaah… I see now. Hm…” Jeonghan swirls the cup slightly, a look of concentration on his face.

“What- what is it?” the girl standing on the other side of the counter stumbles over her words. She’s looking at him with bated breath. Her hands are clasped together as if she was praying. As if she was looking at something holy. You scoff quietly and roll your eyes once you turn your back towards them. Like there’s not enough work to do.

“Look here,” Jeonghan says and points to the squiggly line where he messed up the milk pour for a flower design. His face is the mask of seriousness. “See the waves? Clear sign of turbulent times ahead. But it smooths out eventually - it looks a bit like a star here, see?”

No. No, it doesn’t.

“-That means you’ll succeed. Just hang in there.”

The girl seems on the verge of tears as she takes the cup from Jeonghan, clutching it with both hands as she thanks him relentlessly. It’s only after a couple minutes that she finally walks off with what has to be a cold and disgusting latte. 

You understand trying to predict the future from coffee grounds, tea leaves, whatever, but to do so from a milk pour in a latte made by a barista who couldn’t pour a heart if his life depended on it? 

“You’ll scare off the customers with that sour face,” Jeonghan nudges your ribs with his elbow once he comes stand next to you and finally starts helping you with the backed up orders.

“Yeah, and the thin ice you’re dancing on will break under you one day when the customers start complaining about their coffee being cold by the time you’re done with your little fortune teller charade,” you snap back. He snickers.

“Someone’s grumpy,” he hums, “I’m here now, we’ll have these done in no time.”

You’d like to believe him. You really would. But you’re annoyed and you know it’s only a matter of time before he runs off again.

It’s not his fault that the new guy called in sick last minute. The boss knows that it’s better to have at least one more person behind the counter whenever Jeonghan is working - partly because he’s busy with his fortune telling side hustle and partly because he brings in a lot of customers. A lot of customers. And without fail all of them become annoyingly obsessed with him, it’s only a matter of time. It’s fine as long as they only come in and stare at him, it’s the ones who have to have their coffee made by him and have him read their fortunes. Like he’s not just making shit up. You’d swear you saw some fan pages dedicated to him online. 

You guess the traffic he brings to the cafe is the only reason the boss is okay with him doing his thing and leaving the rest of you to struggle.

For now though, you work efficiently and neatly together. Working with Jeonghan, when he is doing his actual job, is always smooth. You don’t need to talk to get the orders to the waiting customers fast. At times like these you only have half a mind to cringe at the winks and apologetic smiles he sends to his flock of lovesick fans. Sometimes you want to tell him he’d get even more tips - like he’s not already getting a ridiculous amount - if he let his fingers brush against theirs, but whenever you open your mouth to do it, you can’t. Your stomach twists when the words make it to the tip of your tongue. It must be because you couldn’t witness that without gagging.

“See? We’re doing so well,” he hums proudly, and you fully intend to give him a genuine smile back. You really do. That is until you see the customer he’s handing the cup to. He frowns a little at the way your face falls and your lack of reaction. Before he can say anything, though, the girl squeals: “You’re the one who can read the future, right?”

It honestly looks like she’s meeting an idol. To be fair, Jeonghan has all the predispositions to be one and has the professionalism to match. You’d think the flustered but excited smile he gives the girl is genuine if you didn’t know any better. He always gives them conspicuous smiles like his role is a secret between the two of them. Like he feels seen by them. You sigh, your smile purely professional while you hand the glass to the other customer and simply motion towards the straws and sugar packets. And then you rush to work on the next drink.

Jeonghan breaks character for just a second to give you an apologetic smile - which you pointedly ignore. You’re too busy. Just one scan of the growing line and pool of waiting customers is enough to tell you Jeonghan won’t be helping you any time soon.

And eventually, any time soon turns into well after rush hour, with the most dedicated - and delusional - fans forming a line of their own just to get the most useless fortune reading of their lines. 

It’s honestly admirable in its own way that he acts with the same dedication with all of them, no matter how many there are. Right now though, you finally get to sit down and can’t be bothered to try and think anything good about him. You feel abandoned. Betrayed.

You know you’re the one being dramatic now, but you can’t help it. Your social battery is drained. 

You didn’t even get to go on lunch break - you couldn’t leave the other newcomer, Chan, there alone. No way he could handle both taking and making the orders. He hasn’t even been properly trained for that yet. And it feels like Jeonghan slacked off the whole time. Honestly you had no idea how this could be profitable for the owner but hey, it’s her business and not yours.

You’re still sulking when you finally take off the apron and your work shoes. Even walking to the station and walking home doesn’t seem appealing right now, but you really need a nap. And a nice warm meal. Still, you can’t find the energy or will to pack your stuff, so you’re just zoning out for a couple minutes. Which turns out to be a mistake.

The door flies open to reveal a disheveled Jeonghan. His hair is a mess, like he’s been the one getting through the rush. Once he sees you, however, he breathes out seemingly in relief and smoothes down his birdnest of a hair with his free hand. In the other he’s holding a cup of something iced. 

“I thought I didn’t make it,” he smiles at you, carefully coming closer. You heave a long and exhausted sigh.

“Leaving all the work to the others again?” you say, and although you try to sound unbothered, there’s a bitter edge to your voice. He frowns a little, turning his head towards the door for a second.

“I made sure no one was there when I left,” he shifts his weight, “And I just wanted to bring you this. As a thank you and a sorry.”

He offers you the cup in his hand and you take it. Or you’d like to before he steps a little closer and his eyes fill with that mischief you’re so used to seeing during his interactions with the customers.

Not this again…

“If you look here,” his finger draws a swirl above the transparent lid, “See how it looks like those curls want to tie together? A clear sign someone’s trying to court you. And they must be close.”

While he explains, Jeonghan keeps his eyes on the coffee but once he’s finished he looks at you. His gaze is so hopeful, so so hopeful, and you remember it working on you the first couple tries. It gets old after a while, though.

“Yeah, thanks for the coffee,” you shut down his efforts and take the cup from him, “For what it’s worth, I’d prefer for someone to have my back when it’s busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan blurts out. He frowns again when he sees how resigned you look, licking his lips uncertainly. “I’m sorry I made you do all the work. I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t. Like you didn’t mean to on Monday, or last week, or literally any other day we were short on people,” you roll your eyes. Finally you get the motivation to take your things from the locker and leave. 

“Arguably, the cafe being short staffed is the issue here,” he says almost sheepishly - and visibly regrets it the moment you scoff and set the coffee down to cross your arms on your chest. “What?”

“‘Being short staffed is the problem’ yeah - yeah you can argue that and lose the fucking argument because we only need the extra person because you’re no fucking help,” you snap at him, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slamming the locker shut after hurriedly throwing things in. Jeonghan opens and closes his mouth, the corners of his mouth downturned and eyes wide. “Goodbye Jeonghan. See you Friday.”

You push past him and leave, waving at the poor cashier left stuck here with him. 

Jeonghan looks after you until the door closes and the loud noise makes him jump. He looks at the cup left behind, dripping water on the bench. He groans, sitting down with his head in his hands. He rubs his face, knowing he shouldn’t linger here. You might be gone, but his chest feels tight anyway. Now more than ever, like he’s just proving you right by wasting his time here where he is of no help to anyone.

He picks up the cup sadly and takes a small sip. It’s the best one he made, it shouldn’t go to waste. It’s just the way you like it, your favorite he thinks, yet it doesn’t make him feel any better or like you’re still here with him. 

When he returns to the front, a customer has just finished ordering - an older man, and Jeonghan immediately proceeds to prepare the order. His mind is blank but his heart feels heavy. You didn’t even taste the drink…

“Did you seriously just disappear to the back to drink your coffee?” Chan whisper-yells at him after he hands the order to the customer. Jeonghan is about to argue but then he realizes how pathetic he’d sound and just laughs.

“Eyy, I returned just in time, didn’t I?” he bumps his hip against the newbie’s. 

“Dude, you’re just flirting the whole day. Me and y/n did all the hard work, do you really think you’re the one who deserves a coffee break?” his coworker sighs and takes a rag to wipe down the counter. His smile falls immediately and suddenly it’s hard to swallow.

Way to go, Yoon Jeonghan…

Although you don’t work with Jeonghan again until today, you can’t say you feel any better. It’s not like you hate the job - actually you quite like it. The pay’s decent, the boss is fine for the most part, and your coworkers are all nice people too. At the same time you’d lie if you said you wouldn’t rather stay home and sleep and that your stomach doesn’t feel uncomfortably nauseated just thinking of another shift with Jeonghan. Your only hope is that it’s Friday and those usually aren’t as busy in the area. And it’s your last shift for the week. You can do this.

You wash your face and pray. There’s not much else you can do.

The least you can do is to use your limited control over the situation to take the last possible bus so that you make it in time. So you do. Every minute of peace counts. And although it does make you anxious to imagine being late, it’s not like you come late regularly - you never did, actually. So not a big deal. Maybe it’d show Jeonghan what it feels like to be all on his own.

For a while longer, you let the world fade into the background with music blasting in your headphones. It’s easier to ignore people if you can’t hear them. You push it, only giving Chan and Joshua behind the counter a friendly wave to greet them while you pass them. 

You push it further, opening the door to the staff room. You keep the music on until the last moment, until you open your locker and pull out your shoes and stuff your things in, and then you have no choice but to turn the music off and return to reality.

The first sound to reach your ears is annoying high-pitched whining complemented by a fluff of blond hair buzzing around you.

“You’re so mean,” Jeonghan complains, “Are you ignoring everyone today or just me?”

The temptation to just keep your mouth shut is so strong but you never learn. You still have hope that today will be better. And then you’ll need to get along with him. You’re closing the place together too…

Luck seems to be on your side for now, however, and lets you keep him waiting without any need for an excuse.

“My condolences, y/n. He’s so annoying today - he kept bugging us at the front before you came,” your savior, Joshua, declares right as he comes in and heads for his locker.

“Hey-”

“Are you leaving Chan there alone?” you quirk a brow at the newcomer while you change your shoes and throw on a fresh apron. It’s mostly just an excuse to ignore Jeonghan for a bit longer. But also it’s not like Joshua to skirt his duties.

“He can handle himself for five minutes,” he shrugs, “He’s a quick learner and it’s basically empty.”

You hum and snicker, “So was Vernon and you know how that went.”

Joshua shakes his head with a laugh while Jeonghan, very much cosplaying a fluffy and persistent bee, hovers closer to you at the edge of your vision.

This is a conversation he could join in but he doesn’t want to join in on a conversation you have with Joshua - he wants to talk to you! Alone! 

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking out?” Jeonghan snorts in the direction of the other man. Joshua smirks, leaning against the lockers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking in? I bet there’s already a line waiting for you,” the other never backs down from whatever Jeonghan throws his way. It’s impressive. It’s what he likes about the guy. It’s a challenge and he enjoys one. Even now, he’d bite back - oh, he would. But from the corner of his eyes he can see how your face falls just a little.

“Well, they can all wait because first, I’m gonna do a very exclusive reading for our dear y/n here,” he can’t let you see him weak and he can’t lose, and by changing the direction, he’s definitely not-

“Nah, thanks, I’d rather Shua does it,” you smile at the other man.

Now it’s turn for Jeonghan’s face to fall. Not like you will notice.

(It feels like a dagger to the back. The boss had this big idea of having more people on rotation for those readings, and with his acting skills and similarly mischievous personality as well as good looks, Joshua was the obvious choice. Jeonghan poured his heart into teaching him. Their back and forths were on another level, Joshua truly was the perfect student and the only one who could possibly match Jeonghan’s skill. Unfortunately, Joshua is also fucking crazy and his readings were anything but the wholesome, uplifting messages meant to comfort and heal that Jeonghan is trying to hand out. So in the end, Jeonghan alone is the chosen one.)

Joshua laughs back, throwing out a casual “anytime” that makes Jeonghan gag.

“y/n,” he whines, propping his chin on your shoulder - and he knows it’s just the surprise that stops you from immediately shrugging him off but whatever - “But he’ll just tell you you’re gonna grow a third eye or something. I’ll give you the truth.”

“If I had a third eye, I’d be able to see when we’ll get busy so I can, I don’t know, slip and break my leg and go home,” you roll your eyes and now you shrug him off and he pursues his lips more. 

Is it really that bad?

“We’d miss you here, you’re one of the good ones,” Joshua smirks at you and checks his watch, “Time to go! Good luck, both of you.”

Jeonghan hears you grumble something along the lines of ‘like he needs it’ way too clearly. He lets you walk in front of him, so he can sigh without you noticing. Joshua pats his shoulder while he passes him and gives him a kind smile. He hates how easy it is to like the guy.

Fortunately the cafe remains virtually empty when you come out, so you greet Chan again but with a genuine smile for a change. He seems to notice and beams at you too.

“Shua said you did well today,” you hum, trying to warm up to the newest addition to the team. Safe for the dude who’s still sick and you haven’t seen before. You don’t even remember his name.

“You know Shua, he’s just kind,” Chan dismisses, but there’s a happy sparkle in his eyes. One that is very much missing in Jeonghan’s - a fact which goes unnoticed.

He goes through the motions of cleaning the counter even though it’s sparkling clean. He refills the beans even though the container is full. He checks the labels and everything is in order…

“What’s up with him?” the cashier nods towards him. You shrug.

To be fair, Jeonghan works hard. Usually he’s pretty cheerful too, but now he’s just a lifeless husk and you wonder if it has anything to do with you basically ignoring him. Maybe you were too harsh on him when he was just being friendly.

“Anything needs a refill? Do we need anything from the back?” you slide closer to the man in question and take the rag from his hands. He looks surprised but before you can even blink, he’s smiling at you and smirking mischievously.

“Are you hinting I should go get it myself? That’s so mean,” he grumbles. He’s giving you a very convincing kicked puppy look but it’s not like there’s anything he needs to convince you about. Safe for his competency maybe, but that would take much more than him acting cute.

“I’d do it myself. This is just me giving you a chance to pull your stuff out.”

He grimaces a little, as if he forgot about it. Still he thanks you quietly. This one you can’t blame on him; it was just another of your boss’ bright ideas.   

‘Jeonghan’s stuff’ is really just a cloth, a nice deep shade of purple with golden embroidery of sun and moon and some more astrological motives that he spreads out on the area of the counter where he does the readings. It’s also an assortment of crystal candy handmade by Minghao.

(Minghao is only a part-timer and has the least hours of all of you, and occasionally you somehow go the whole month without seeing him once. You wonder if it has anything to do with the time he needs to make the candies.

They don’t match the cafe’s vibe - they look too luxurious, especially next to the plain looking macarons, roll cakes, cookies and other goodies - but they do fit Jeonghan’s vibe.

They’re delicious too, so you hope that whatever is Minghao’s contract doesn’t change. Although he could give out employee discounts.)

Anyway, Jeonghan’s corner isn’t much, and thank god it’s not flashy, but it’s a little extra something for whenever Jeonghan’s working. You usually notice some of his groupies peeking in through the front window to check if his stuff is out. It’s also a good way to tell if the day will be a good one or not if he’s in.

“Found something we need from the back?” Jeonghan joins you right as you’re finished going through the supplies.

“No, I think we’re good. Shua usually leaves everything ready for the next shift anyway,” you hum, double checking the dates on everything just to be sure. Not that you expect to find anything amiss.

“You’re so nice to him.” You roll your eyes at him before you can stop yourself, which Jeonghan takes a personal offense to. “I always do my best too!”

“Yeah, but Shua is just more reliable,” you shrug. Unswayed by his sulking, you keep working around Jeonghan, who follows you while listing all the nice things he’s ever done for you. You catch Chan watching you from the side and laughing. 

“If you have nothing better to do-”

Just as you’re about to find a task to give to the youngest, the doorbell rings and in walks a pair of friends. Their giggling and badly hushed squeals tell you everything you need to know.

“Better get in the character,” you say, already giving up, and move on to the cake display and check the temperature. The display cooler is new, but after the fiasco that was the last one you want to make sure.

“What do you mean by character?” he puts a hand over his chest. He’s already acting, though. “I just have powers nobody can explain.”

You scoff, almost bumping into him while he keeps shuffling on the floor. He’s just doing it to get on your nerves at this point.

“What the hell?” you hiss at him quietly.

He looks at you for real. The look in his eyes is close to desperate when his gaze flicks towards the girls and then back to you, standing conveniently between them and him. You only laugh a little. It’s ridiculous how dramatic he’s being, and you wonder why he has to be this eccentric all the time.

“Not ‘hell’, they’re powers from a higher good! And I wasn’t kidding yesterday,” he remains serious - whatever his version of serious is anyway, “There’s someone really close to you who’s interested in you.”

You don’t really want to indulge his delusions but since he’s still behaving like a child seeing his least favorite relative and the girls are taking ages ordering, you decide just once won’t hurt.

“Yeah? Tell me more,” you say simply.

At this point he’s basically cornered against the counter and the girls keep looking your way. There’s very few options left how he could cower from them. He seems more focused on you, however, delight written all over his face.

“Literally so close that when you realize you’ll feel so stupid you’ll want to bang your head against a wall.”

“Already do,” you sigh.

You might say that but there’s something charming about the way Jeonghan tenderly holds onto your sleeve, the way his head isn’t buried in your shoulder but you feel his every breath on your skin anyway. He’s careful not to press himself against you and you appreciate that, even though you’re long since you used to people being squeezed together behind the counter on the busier days. His current position makes your work much harder nonetheless. Though you suppose you’re just making yourself look busy at this point.

Not that you’re not grateful to Joshua, but damn, couldn’t he leave at least something for you to do without customers around?

“Yeah? Any guesses who could be your secret admirer?” Jeonghan whispers. The girls are paying already and you have no idea what he's hoping to accomplish. They’ve seen him already when they walked in and they see him now.

Fortunately they sprint over before the silence after his question gets long enough that it’d demand you to answer.

Like somebody flipped a switch in Jeonghan’s brain, he springs us from behind you and greets the girls at his corner, asking them for just a moment to let him work his magic.

You join Chan in Jeonghan-watching while he works after he sends you away to prepare the order himself. Not that unusual, although you’d like to have something to do so that the shift passes quickly. It always pleases the fans, though, and this time too it doesn’t fail to make them swoon over his long fingers, his tongue flicking out to wet his pretty lips, or the bow tied on the small of his back that looks so cute and accentuates his slim waist. It’s always this way. You think you learned what they’re into quite well. And it’s not difficult to see. 

You’re just more used to it now.

“Do you think my training could include some one-on-one with him?” Chan whispers to you, “I mean I have no problem getting a date if I want to-”

“You must be really against dating right now then,” you can’t resist teasing him. You have no idea if he’s dating or not, but you suppose if he wants Jeonghan’s help of all people, he must be desperate. Then you remember he’s just a newbie. He doesn’t know him well yet.

“Hey!” he punches your shoulder lightly, “It’s just- He’s on another level, okay?”

“I guess,” you murmur, “But he’s still as single as us, so he must be a loser beyond getting a number.”

“You think so?” he tilts his head, “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, so you just do you.”

Fridays tend to be slower, what with most of the students from the nearby university preferring a club to a small cafe by the time the end of the week rolls around, but it’s just as well. At least you get to show Chan how to do things properly whenever a learning opportunity comes around and for once it’s Jeonghan who has his hands full with work. So much so that both you and the cashier help - at least when all the customers are waiting to get their coffee and reading.

There’s not much you can do to actually help, but whenever you slide the plated desserts on the counter, ready to be matched with the coffee, prepare the boxes for the takeout orders, or you hand him a cup only waiting for him to mess up the milk, he gives you a grateful smile. You think that when your fingers brush occasionally, he might be doing it on purpose - occasionally here being an understatement, but it doesn’t happen all the time either. Whatever, you suppose that’s his own way of saying thanks. 

Slowly, though, even that crowd starts to thin out. 

Back when he used to work here, Seungkwan would always say that seeing Jeonghan and getting a cake were both a sweet treat for the students coming here on Friday evening. 

You wonder if they’d think of him as sweet if they were forced to work with him and deal with his whining.

It’s not that you want to entertain his quirks when you let him rest his head on your shoulder after the place empties. It’s just for now. And when you pet his hair whenever he sighs deeply, you’re just being a supportive coworker. It’s just that he really did work hard.

Jeonghan’s other shenanigans and the shit he puts whoever is unlucky enough to be on the shift with him through make it easy to forget the effort he puts into what he does. All the talking, making stuff up on the spot, the creativity that requires. You don’t think you could ever match that - especially with your social battery being as faulty as it is. And whenever he can, he insists on preparing the orders entirely by himself - and whenever he abandons you to the rest of the orders, even this is a big help. He never really complains either, his sighs and whining are mostly for attention.

Perhaps you’re too harsh on him sometimes. He doesn’t have it easy, just the same as you. 

“We’re almost done,” you pet his hair one more time and wave goodbye to Chan. For the remaining two hours, it’s gonna be just you and Jeonghan. The man on your shoulder doesn’t bother to lift his head and blindly waves as well.

You look around the cafe, empty safe for a single man at the table in the corner. He looks like he’ll be leaving soon too. It’s a relief, especially after the catastrophe that was your last shift together.

It’s been a while since you last closed with Jeonghan, however, so you can only hope that in the little time you have left he won’t do anything that would sour today’s experience. 

“If we start now, we’ll be finished sooner,” you whisper to him, and finally he raises his head. Over the couple months you learned that nothing motivates him quite like the prospect of going home soon. At least one thing you have in common.

“Do you want to do the clean up here?” Jeonghan suggests, but his tone couldn’t be more hopeful that you’ll say no. You huff and shake your head.

“It’s fine, I’ll just do the lobby and help you out when I’m done,” you grant his wish. Truthfully you don’t really care either way. And at least on lobby duty you get to have some space and walk around.

He thanks you cutely, promising another free reading just for you - which you immediately decline, but you know better than to expect him not to go through with it.

The time you have left passes in a breeze. Barely anyone comes in and when they do, they usually take their coffee to go. Stars really must have aligned for you today. Thus you get to wipe down the tables and the counter, clean the bathroom and sweep the floor before it’s officially closing time. You’re so excited by how lucky you’ve gotten that you don’t mind Jeonghan’s victorious smirk when you automatically take over some of his tasks once the clock strikes the closing time. After all it doesn’t matter that he gets to go home sooner when it’s a win for you too.

Once again you’re amazed by how smoothly you work with him. It’s an effortless flow without the need for words. Sure, the tasks you’re capable of doing on autopilot, but whenever you help out the others, it’s never this simple. 

“Thank you,” Jeonghan smiles at you once everything is done and you join him at the back after checking again that you haven’t forgotten anything. 

“Don’t mention it,” you return the smile and stretch your arms above your head, closing your eyes in bliss. You can’t wait to be home.

“No, I will - I promised, didn’t I?”

You don’t like his tone. You really really really don’t like his tone. Allowing your arms to go limp, you let them hang beside your body. Your eyes stay closed.

“Come on, it’s nothing bad,” his voice softens. Maybe you get why he’s so popular. Or maybe it’s late and you’re tired.

When you open your eyes, there’s a small cup of ice latte being held out to you. You frown but he just chuckles. “I kept it in the fridge.”

“And I was wondering why you were acting so weird,” you sigh but you take the cup - or try to, only he doesn’t let go. “Not again.”

“If you look here,” he dismisses your protests. His fingers are cold against yours. “That line and this line are almost one, see? Your secret admirer is closer than before. You should take your chance.” 

You try not to smile but you do anyway, tired and resigned to your fate. “Anything more?”

“Yeah, actually if you follow this… You’re not listening, are you?” Jeonghan pouts when he realizes that you’re not looking at the coffee at all. He holds your gaze.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this,” you finally manage to slip the cup from his hand. You immediately take a long sip, you need something to get you through the way home. It’s good, great, but that’s no surprise. He might not be trained in latte art, but he makes good coffee.

“What are you going to do about your admirer though?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You give him a long look and note the discrepancy in his body language and his voice. He sounds playful, the upward curl of his lips give off that feeling too, but he seems tense otherwise. His eyes seem nervous. The late hour must be getting to him too.

“Wait,” you shrug, then elaborate when he gives you a confused stare, “I’m not into this kind of game, Jeonghan. If someone likes me, they shouldn’t be hiding it.”

He looks caught off guard, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“That is - if there was a secret admirer. I’m not buying your nonsense,” you push his shoulders and turn to your locker with a satisfied smile to take your things and stuff the rest in. Finally you silenced the great charlatan Yoon.

“Hey, my predictions always come true,” he bounces back quickly, “The customers tell me all the time.”

“You literally tell them the most generic shit,” you roll your eyes, shutting your locker, “Look, it was really nice today, so let’s not fight.”

He opens his mouth with, displeasure tugging at his lips. There’s a moment of tense silence before he eventually settles on a short dramatic monologue about never being taken seriously by close minded people like you. You watch him while you sip the coffee and check your watch. There’s enough time before your bus comes and now that your last shift of the week is over, you feel relaxed enough not to mind his company.

You make sure to lock up the place and have Jeonghan check that it’s actually locked. Just to be sure, despite the teasing that follows. There’s no malice in his voice, if anything he looks fond and nudges you with his elbow, reassuring you that he only finds it cute.

Sipping on the coffee while you walk, you enjoy how peaceful the night is. The street is empty, safe for the two of you, but you know it’s not gonna be that way once you reach the main road. For now, though, you actually feel quite comfortable chatting with Jeonghan. He's good company when he’s not infuriating.

“So anyway, I won them the whole game,” Jeonghan finishes boasting about his recent outing with Joshua and the new guy you have yet to meet - apparently he’s called Jun and is hopeless at basketball.

“Sure you did,” you snicker. Just to see him whine and try to persuade you he’s not lying. Although unexpectedly you have to admit that seeing him act out some complicated moves without the ball is both amusing and strangely impressive. He never striked you as someone as athletic as he seems to be. 

“Alright, alright, I believe you. Don’t hurt yourself, you’re working the weekend, aren’t you?” you laugh, holding him by the elbow to stop him from more demonstrations. 

“Yeah, jealous hm?” he frees his arm from your hold and throws it around your shoulders. You scoff and shrug him off. 

“Not really, the older I get the more I value my free time over money,” you push him away when he moves too close again. He just laughs at the annoyed glare you give him.

“You know I think your secret admirer is tied to the cafe, so maybe you should come in. Make sure there’s someone to grow old with you,” he hums thoughtfully, but the look in his eyes lets you know he actually means the suggestion.

“No thanks, I’ll be happy not to see the place for a few days,” you wave him off. The ice clashes together as you shake the almost empty cup. Just in time. The main street is already in sight and with it, the bus stop too. Only a few minutes now and you’ll be on your way home, spacing out with your music. “Also you’re more obsessed with this idea of a secret admirer than me. Maybe you should confront one of yours.”

“What do you mean?” he stops walking suddenly. You stop too, your brows furrow on their own. He looks the most serious you’ve ever seen him. Actually serious.

“Your army of fans, duh,” you shrug, keeping your tone playful to hopefully lighten the atmosphere, “I bet every single one of them is in love with you. They’re not exactly discreet.”

He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath, then exhales just as slowly. If it wasn’t him, if you didn’t know him as well as you think you know him, you’d be scared. Even so you watch him warily.

“I don’t care about them,” he says plainly, “It’s fun for the job, but I don’t care about anything beyond that.”

You swallow uneasily, watching him stare at you with an unreadable expression.

“I was just kidding. I’m sorry,” you apologize. He must notice how uncomfortable you feel because he runs a hand through his hair and gives you a small smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he catches up with you, “I just take my magic very seriously.”

You burst out. You’ve had people call latte art magic. Never the fuck ups. At least Jeonghan seems relieved to see you laugh too and you can continue the walk comfortably again.

For someone who spent the day making shit up, he has enough inspiration to keep going. By the time you reach the stop and the bus comes into view, you have tears in your eyes as Jeonghan keeps exaggerating and telling you, very seriously, about the inner workings of his magic and deals he had to make with different deities to acquire his powers.

He only shuts up when the bus stops in front of you and the doors open.

“Thank you for today, Jeonghan,” you babble through fits of laughter, “It was great.”

“Thank you too,” he smiles gingerly, “And don’t laugh at me. Or you’ll make some powerful enemies.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you shake your head, “Bye now.”

“Bye.”

You get on the bus and take a seat by the window. Jeonghan doesn’t move from his spot, you see him get smaller and smaller as the vehicle takes off. 

Despite the coffee, you feel tired. Tired but happy, you realize. You wipe your eyes and chuckle. If only every shift could be like this.

You keep grinning even as you put on your headphones and start the music. The glass is cold against your forehead and you hope it’ll keep you from falling asleep. Although you suppose it wouldn’t be so bad now that you feel this content.

The weekend passes by way too quickly. The bed remains unmade and the couch remains a messy nest of blankets and pillows, although that’s hardly surprising seeing as that’s where you spend most of the time. Some chores got done, some didn’t, but you tell yourself that’s fine. You’ll just do them before or after work, it’d be pointless to waste your completely free days on things like that. Starting on Monday sounds better than starting on Sunday night.

Some part of you feels guilty about not being more productive, but when you lay down in bed, you realize that you hold no tension in your shoulders and you remind yourself you’re not a machine. You need to rest too. Chores will wait. Being productive will wait. What needs to be done isn’t going anywhere - the time you get to spend on your hobbies is.

You settle in bed and set up the alarm for tomorrow. You don’t work until afternoon and you’re going to bed early, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

Staring at the ceiling, you don’t think you’re gonna fall asleep any time soon, but that just can’t be helped. Just closing your eyes should provide some rest, and who knows, maybe your body will surprise you.

It’s hard to keep track of time with your eyes closed and your mind racing. You’ve already thought of six sick burns that you wish you had ready when you needed them, you’ve won two philosophical debates, and you were about to invent a life changing knick-knack if only your phone didn’t light up and didn’t alert you to a new text message.

You consider ignoring it. Nobody really texts you, so it’s most likely just some spam or they got the wrong number.

But then it rings again.

And again.

You pick up the phone and squint at the screen.

The messages keep going.

[eightstarr]

baby — abby anderson.

summary: you're on patrol with abby and you make her squirt for the first time. you don't mean to make a habit out of distracting her, but in your defense, it's hard to focus on anything else when she looks so pretty all serious and focused on keeping you safe! and you are only so strong!

notes: i don't ever really write smut and it for sure shows but anyway here it is! what no one asked for! yet again! also excuse the surprising amount of feelings that are in this considering it's technically supposed to be porn? it wouldn't be me if someone didn't say i love you at least once tho

don't support the last of us franchise.

daily click. learn about palestine. donate and share!

・。.・゜✧・. ────

"Do you have a danger kink or something?" Abby asks, trying to sound cool, but her breathing's a little too staggered for that. You've got her backed up against a counter in a random kitchen of a lonesome, old house.

You smooth your tongue over her pulse and feel her shudder, your hands sneaking under her loose shirt to cup her waist, fingers squeezing adoringly. "Can't I have some fun with my girl?"

"Yeah, but—" Abby cuts herself off with a moan that's almost embarrassing considering how little you're touching her. "You did this last time, too. It's like you want to get caught."

"Caught by who?" You scoff, lifting your head to look at her, nodding once as a silent way to say up. She abides without thinking, her palms against the counter as she pushes herself up to sit on top of it. You're needy enough that you don't bother teasing, no 'good girl', no 'what would your soldiers think if they saw you be so obedient?'. You slot yourself between her thighs and continue your assault on her neck, fingers brushing over chest. "There's no one here, baby."

Baby is perhaps your biggest tell. You call her baby when she's been away for too long, when you've had a long day and show up at her door unannounced, in the morning when you've woken up from a dream that left you aching that you refuse to share the details of no matter how much she asks. 'Baby' means you're desperate. And 'baby' makes Abby pull you closer, because nothing makes her need you more than you being desperate for her.

She lifts herself up enough to let you pull her cargo pants and boxers off in one motion, and her heart skips a beat as you sink to your knees, guiding her legs over your shoulders. She used to fret about that, fret about a lot of things— but the admittedly ridiculous thought of accidentally squeezing you to death was up there. You'd made the stupid joke, as anyone would, at least I'd die happy. But when that didn't quite work besides earning a roll of her eyes and a slight smirk to her lips, you'd simply gotten back to work on making her cum on your mouth until she had no choice but to close her legs around you. And when she did, the movement mindless and needy, you groaned and left loving fingerprints on her thighs enough to reassure her that you liked it. Loved it. You loved a lot of things that Abby used to be insecure about.

The point is, she shouldn't be shocked to see you get down on your knees. It's not an entirely unfamiliar sight anymore, you've made sure of that. But even on the first time you fucked, with all the eagerness and want and sense of overdue of your affections, Abby doesn't think she saw you quite this ravenous.

It's like you're drunk on it, like you didn't have her in a way not too different from this just a mere two days ago. You eat her like you're fucking starving. Not pulling away to breathe, your nose brushing against her clit just right, moaning every time she bucks her hips or pulls your hair.

When Abby cums, she feels it in her chest. It sinks on top of her, a lovely heaviness, and then drops off of her all together and leaves her weightless. When you don't stop, she breathes out a chuckle that turns into a broken moan and buries her fingers back in your hair, half expecting you to pull away still. But time passes, drags on and speeds away much too fast all at once, and you don't.

She's saying your name, she thinks, or a sound as close to it as her mind will allow her to formulate. Abby knows she's loud by the way her noises are echoing through the empty room, mocking her. Before she can feel embarrassed by it, as if you can read her mind as easily as anything else, you drag your mouth down and fuck into her with your tongue in a way that she didn't know could feel so good before she met you. As quickly as it came, the shame is gone. Her lips part and her sounds grow louder still, spilling out of her carelessly. You want to reward her, you think somewhere in the back of your mind, want her to know how much you love it. It's a privilege to make Abby Anderson a mess, and it always makes you lightheaded with need.

You wrap your mouth around her clit and suck, and Abby lets go of your head for once to grab onto the counter and make a lame attempt to keep herself still, her knuckles white.

The pressure building in her low abdomen is familiar, but then your hand comes to lay flat against the exact spot and something about the weight of it makes the feeling twist into something different.

Abby gasps quick breaths, her eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion and enough pleasure to drown it out and soothe the meaningless pain of bumping her head back against the wall.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, barely legible. And it's fine, she thinks, it's just like every other time. But then she feels it start to unravel, finally, and it's the same but also not at all. "Fuck, wait, I think— fuck!" she's panting, shaking and forcing her gaze to refocus just to watch the way your eyes fall closed, the way your eyebrows furrow. You moan against her and the sound is loud even while suffocated, even though you've somehow managed to push your face closer to her, press your tongue deeper. Abby feels it gush out of her and it's nothing like anything she's felt before, so good and so much and she doesn't want it to ever end, even as she blabbers, "Oh my God. Oh my fucking God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

You don't seem to hear her, hungrier than she's ever seen you— you look fucking possessed. You pull back and the sight of you is dizzying, embarrassing, and it's the only thing Abby wants to look at for the rest of her life. Your lips are glistening, yes, but so is your chin, your cheeks, her cum dripping down your neck. Your eyes are dark, more pupils than anything else, and they swallow her whole. You haven't pulled back too far, your breath still hot against her, but it's enough that you can replace your mouth with your fingers and rub on her clit. What's left in her comes out in soft spurtz, dripping onto the floor, and you couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried.

But Abby doesn't know that, doesn't know what you're thinking at all. You're surprised, but is it in a bad way? It must be. Are you disgusted? You're so covered in her that it feels like you'll never be able to wash it off, and Abby can't read your mind like you do hers, so she doesn't know that the thought thrills you, that your heart is fucking pounding in your chest, that your underwear is utterly and completely fucking ruined. You lick your lips and swipe your chin with the back of your hand, absentminded. Abby's thinking, begging, say something.

"Holy fuck," is all you can manage, a quiet mutter, breathless. Your fingers haven't stopped rubbing, but a whine and an especially forceful quiver of her legs makes you blink and you stop like you've just come out of a trance, your hand moving instantly to soothe up and down her thigh.

"I'm sorry," Abby repeats, and then you look at her face like you've just remembered it's there.

Look up at her like she's fucking crazy, like she's grown a second head, mumbling, "What?"

"I didn't— I tried to warn you," she says, even though she doesn't know that she could've. It felt so foreign, she wouldn't have known how to explain it, really.

You lower her trembling thighs from your shoulders carefully, not before pressing a kiss against each one, and then you stand up. Abby wonders if this is where you'll tell her you didn't like that, where you'll help her put her clothes back on and then you'll promise each other to never speak of it again. Instead, your eyes grow impossibly gentle, impossibly loving, and you tuck yourself closer between her legs. The hem of your jeans brushes against her core and she gasps, but doesn't move away. "Baby," you call softly, pecking her lips. "Has this never happened to you before?"

Abby feels a little like she's suffocating, the breeze coming in through the window you'd opened when you first came in not enough to soothe her anymore. But you brush your knuckles over the faint scar on her cheekbone and her shoulders grow limp, her body relaxing except for where she's shaking— fuck, she is still fucking shaking. She remembers your question and shakes her head.

You don't show her how embarrassingly proud that makes you, that you made that happen before anyone else did, because it's not the time. You tuck the feeling in your pocket for later and hum, barely resisting the urge to kiss her, to get back on your knees until they're bruised and make her cum in whatever form she'll give you all over again. "Did it feel good?" You ask, not mocking, but curious.

If she wasn't so embarrassed, Abby would've laughed. It is very possible, and the thought does nothing to ease her shame, that nothing has ever felt so good. But admitting that feels like too much, so instead she whispers, "Yeah."

You smile, happy, genuinely relieved. "Then what are you saying sorry for?" You ask, kissing her again before you can help it. "That's my fucking job. I want you to feel good."

The words alleviate like water to a small fire, and Abby feels silly for having forgotten that it's you who she's with. She's had the thought before, but it suddenly becomes more present than ever, practically breathing down her neck— that she wants to keep you forever. Keep is maybe a bad word for it. She wants to be around you forever, for as long as you'll let her, wants to move into your shitty apartment and make you breakfast and sleep every night in your cropped shirts that fit slightly too tight and make her look ridiculous. She ought to say she loves you more often, she thinks. You say it nearly every time you see her now, like the words have been bubbling inside you for too long and now they can't be kept away. It's a fairly fresh relationship, but the feelings are ancient for both of you, and it shows.

"I love you," Abby sighs, and presses her lips against yours before you can say it back. It's sloppy, she's barely starting to come down from her high, but you don't complain. You kiss her with vigor, like you're trying to spell it out with your tongue, I love you. When you pull apart, her eyes fall from your eyes to your chest and she winces, eyes squeezing shut as her forehead falls on your shoulder.

"What?" You ask, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head immediately, without thought.

"Your shirt," she mumbles against you. You glance down and let out a soft oh. The white fabric of your tank top is soaked, mostly near the neckline, sticking to your skin. You hadn't noticed. Abby lifts her head to look at you, freckled face flushed red, so pretty that you forget about the mess she made of you all over again. "You have to change. We can't go back with you looking like that," she says— or begs, more like.

"I didn't bring anything else with me," you tell her, humming appreciatively as you look back down at your chest, grinning. "Besides, this is my favorite shirt now."

Abby groans, the kind of whiney, timid sound that you could've never imagined her making before you become her girlfriend. The kind of sound that makes you weak in the fucking knees, needy and cotton-mouthed. "It's not funny," she hides her face in her hands and huffs, "'S embarrassing."

You're chuckling, but biting into your lip to stifle it when she lowers her head further down, chin against her chest. With careful touch, you wrap your fingers around her wrists and guide her hands away from her face, leaning in to kiss her cheek. Her skin is hot beneath your lips, and you hum at the feeling of it. She's usually so cold, your Abby, freezing fingers sneaking under your shirt at night and making you shudder. It's a pleasure to make her warm, an honor to see her shy. You love her so much it tugs at you, a constant reminder.

"You're a dream, Abby. Fucking perfect," you say, as clearly as you can while dragging your lips down her neck. She's the hottest thing you've ever laid eyes on, so beautiful that sometimes you can't sleep, too excited that she's there next to you to ever close your eyes. And you need her to know, but you're not really one with words, so all that comes out is, "Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants, you know that?"

Abby moans. Her breath gets caught in her throat as you suck marks into her neck and she finds that she couldn't care less right now, about the evidence that'll be left on her skin or your stupid wet shirt. She guides your face up with a hand on the back of your neck, and kisses her flavor off your lips until she can't anymore, until her lungs burn and her lips tingle. Your voice echoes in her head. Nearly made me cum in my fucking pants. Nearly, she thinks. That doesn't sound very fair.

Thick fingers make quick work of your zipper, trailing over your lower tummy and sneaking under your underwear. She's a little fast, but you've never minded. Sometimes she'll notice and force herself to slow down, to savor, but most of the time her mind doesn't let her catch up to it. Like now. She can't worry about looking clumsy or overly-enthusiastic, because she just needs to feel you. Because she wants to check that you weren't lying, that she could've made you cum without ever touching you— and it's there, the overwhelming fucking truth of it soaking her hand. You gasp at the contact, and Abby's thighs squeeze you in place, as if you'd ever leave. "Jesus Christ," she pants. She finds herself saying it a lot lately. Jesus Christ. Oh my fucking God. Calling upon figures she doesn't believe in, delusional enough to think for a second that they'll bring some kind of comfort, release her of her sins.

You're so wet that it doesn't take more than a minute for her confidence to slowly grow back, so wet that it doesn't take more than two to make you cum. It's the fastest she's ever seen you fall apart, and it wouldn't be Abby if her immediate thought (right after that was so fucking hot) wasn't bet I can make it quicker. Her ego fizzles in her chest, warm and euphoric. Abby thinks she doesn't remember the last time she felt as proud about something as she does every time she makes you feel good. Isaac's occasional pat on her shoulder and mutter of 'good job' is laughable in comparison, as is the high of working herself till she's covered head to toe in sweat at the gym, as is everything else.

It might be the honeymoon phase the movies talk about. You slowly catch your breath and raise your head from her shoulder to look at her with the same adoration as you did when she kissed you for the first time, and Abby has a hard time believing that the feeling will ever go away. Movies get a lot of things wrong, anyway.

She's walking slower than usual on your way back home, her steps sluggish, and you're sweet enough to only make fun of her for it a little bit. One comment here and there, earning a scoff when you lean closer and offer to carry her bride style, a badly stifled laugh when you hum thoughtfully and wonder out loud about what Owen must be doing right now.

Her fingers are interlaced with yours and normally she would've let go by now, a little sheepish to show that much vulnerability in front of the people who are supposed to respect her, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind. You crack another stupid joke and she giggles like she did when she was a kid, silly and sweet, tugging your hand to her lips to kiss the back of it.

Manny looks you up and down as soon as you cross the gates, dark eyebrows raised. "The fuck happened to you?" He asks. You look at him with a confused frown and wait for him to clarify, "You're wet."

Abby's stiff as a board where she stands next to you, her quick blinking the only evidence that she hasn't actually been frozen in place by some kind of magic spell.

You're much more casual. "It's fucking hot. I poured some water on myself to cool off."

Manny hums. He's seen you do it before, maybe that's why he doesn't question it. He does note, though, the suspicious way in which Abby walks silently and swiftly past him with her eyes pointedly on the floor. Her hand is tight around yours still, and you follow because— well, of course you do.

[theemporium]

What about Max maxplaining Trouble? Like not to Trouble, but about Trouble to someone. He’s just gushing about her or maybe he’s telling someone that no they can’t do “x” b/c that’s not the way Trouble prefers it done. And everyone is just so confused about why Max knows something so random about Trouble.

kinda made this into a wee sick fic but enjoy! and thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Max, I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Sorry for taking your health seriously. Now, give Danny the phone.”

If someone told you that Max Verstappen was an overbearing mother hen before you met him, you would have laughed in their face. You had heard many things about him, and that certainly wasn’t one you would have believed. Even in the early stages of your friendship, you would have never really pegged him as the type. He was caring, yes. 

But this? This was a whole new level.

You were sick. Nothing crazy or insane, just a simple flu that left you feeling a bit under the weather and longing for your bed. But apparently to Max, it was equivalent to you being on your deathbed. 

Unfortunately for him, he had to fly out to England for a few meetings at the factory that required his presence. He tried arguing Christian over the phone about it, but ultimately lost that battle and was forced to take his private jet out.

You made the mistake in thinking that you would be able to get a few days of quiet rest to recover. Because only mother hen Max Verstappen would send someone to do exactly what he would do if he was able to stay by your side.

“Did you get her a blanket?”

Daniel tried to suppress his laughter and remain serious as he held your phone in his hand, watching Max on the screen scrutinising every little detail about your setup in your bed.

“Yes, I—”

“You got the wrong blanket,” Max stated bluntly.

You sighed. “Max, it’s fine—”

“Stop saying that, schatz, when it’s not,” Max retorted before his focus returned to the Aussie. “She likes the cream one in the hallway cupboard. Should be on the third shelf.”

Daniel nodded. “Right, got it.” 

“Did you get her medicine?”

“Oh yeah,” Daniel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I got her some cough syrup from the pharmacy down the—”

“Which flavour?”

“Cherry,” Daniel said.

Max scoffed. “Mate, she hates cherry. You need to get the orange flavoured one.”

“Max,” you groaned as you nuzzled yourself further into the endless amount of pillows your boyfriend had made Daniel surround you in. “Cherry is fine. I just have to take a spoonful once a day, or whatever it is.”

“Three times a day,” Max said, his brows furrowed together. “And you hate artificial cherry flavouring. You said it makes you want to throw up.”

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

“I’ll get her the orange flavoured one,” Daniel said with a laugh, finding it adorable how caring Max was. “Anything else, helicopter boyfriend?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Max grumbled. “But yes. I have left menus on the kitchen counter, I’ll send you what she likes and what she wants to get but always refuses until it’s in front of her. Also, there should be a list of movies I sent you that are her comfort movies that you can—”

“This is creepy, Verstappen, it’s like you’re my stalker or something,” you muttered, even if your heart was swooning at the small details he remembered about you.

“Lil’ Maxie just loves his Trouble,” Daniel grinned wildly. “He doesn’t shut up about you. He could probably go on for hours if we let him.”

“More like days,” Max corrected before he continued to explain everything you would need to his friend, whilst you laid there with a fond smile on your face.

.

[pandapetals]

Mr. Darcy

logan howlett x fem!reader - halloween costumes, logan dresses up as Mr. Darcy, pride and prejudice fans rise up, fluff, cute, no use of y/n, no reader description.

It's Halloween and you make Logan dress up as Mr. Darcy.

a/n: It's October which basically means Happy Halloween. Here's a cute little Halloween one. God knows I love brooding men—and Mr.Darcy was the first one I can remember loving so why not combine logan and mr.darcy together.

read on Ao3

“You look—”

“Ridiculous,” Logan grunted before you could even finish. He stood there in the doorway, wearing the Regency-era costume you had begged him to wear for the Halloween party tonight—complete with the cravat, waistcoat, and fitted jacket that made him look every bit the brooding Mr. Darcy. His expression was a mixture of annoyance and resignation like he couldn’t believe he’d actually let you talk him into this.

If you were being honest, he didn’t look ridiculous. Not even close.

You bit back a smile as you took him in, the way the tailored jacket hugged his broad shoulders and how the crisp, white shirt contrasted with the usual ruggedness of his face. Somehow, Logan still managed to look like Logan —even when dressed up as Jane Austen’s most famous romantic hero.

“I was going to say handsome ,” you corrected, stepping closer to him with a teasing grin. “But if you prefer ridiculous…”

Logan huffed, adjusting the cravat at his throat like it was strangling him. “I don’t know how the hell you talked me into this,” he muttered, glancing at himself in the mirror, a deep scowl settling over his features. “I look like a damn fool.”

“You look perfect ,” you insisted, smoothing down the lapels of his jacket before placing your hands on his chest. “Like a brooding, 19th-century aristocrat. Which, let’s be honest, isn’t that far off from how you act sometimes.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, his gruff exterior barely masking the hint of amusement in his expression. “Very funny.”

You just grinned, standing on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Come on, Darcy. The party won’t be the same without you.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head but letting you lead him out of the room, your hand slipping into his as you made your way to the common area where the rest of the X-Men were already gathering for the Halloween party. The mansion was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and general chaos that came with any event involving the team.

As you and Logan entered the room, it didn’t take long for people to notice.

Scott was the first to pipe up, nearly spitting out his drink when he saw Logan. “Holy crap, Logan, is that really you? I’ve never seen you look so… normal. ”

Jean chuckled beside him, nudging him with her elbow. “More like out of a BBC period drama. You’re practically unrecognizable.”

Logan’s scowl deepened as he shot Scott a glare. “You got somethin’ to say, Summers?”

“Oh, I think we all do,” Scott quipped, grinning as the rest of the team gathered around, taking in the rare sight of Logan dressed in something other than his usual leather jacket and flannel. “Seriously, who are you and what did you do with Wolverine?”

Even Storm, who was usually the voice of reason, couldn’t hide her amusement as she crossed her arms, giving Logan a once-over. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to look… refined.”

Logan grunted, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but you couldn’t help but find the whole thing endearing. “Alright, alright, laugh it up,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest, which only made the fitted jacket strain against his broad frame. “Just remember—I’m still me underneath all this.”

That earned a round of laughs from the group, but you could see Logan trying his best to ignore the teasing. He was doing this for you, after all, and no amount of ribbing from the team was going to change that.

“I think you look amazing ,” you whispered, leaning into his side and giving him a reassuring smile. “You’re the best Mr. Darcy I’ve ever seen.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was a softness in his gaze when he looked down at you. “Yeah, well, I still don’t get why you’d want me dressed up as some stuck-up Brit,” he muttered, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

“Because you are Mr. Darcy,” you replied with a grin. “Gruff, brooding, a little rough around the edges—but with a heart of gold.”

Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know about the ‘heart of gold’ part.” You chuckled as he shook his head, clearly done with the entire situation. “You’re all gonna pay for this,” he muttered, his gruff tone tempered with the faintest hint of amusement as he pulled you closer to his side.

The party carried on, with the team eventually moving on to other conversations and teasing each other about their own costumes, but you couldn’t help but notice that Logan seemed quieter than usual. Not uncomfortable, exactly, but maybe a little... out of place.

Later that night, after most of the others had wandered off to different parts of the mansion, you and Logan found a quiet corner away from the noise, the dim lighting casting soft shadows across his face. He leaned against the wall, one hand resting casually in his pocket, the other holding a drink, still looking slightly out of his element in the period costume.

“You know,” you said, sidling up to him with a teasing smile, “for someone who’s not a fan of costumes, you’ve pulled off Mr. Darcy pretty well.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Yeah? Glad one of us thinks so.”

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers over the lapel of his jacket. “You could’ve fooled me. You look like you stepped right out of Pride and Prejudice. All that’s missing is the declaration of undying love.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, to your surprise, he set his drink down and straightened up, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Undying love, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, suddenly curious about where this was going. “Yep. The whole ‘I admire and love you’ speech. It’s basically iconic.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, you thought he was about to make a sarcastic comment. But then, he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto yours with that intense, unreadable expression that always made your heart skip a beat.

“You must allow me,” Logan began, his voice low and gravelly, but there was something softer beneath the gruffness, something just for you, “to tell you how ardently I admire... and love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he said the words, his rough voice making the familiar line sound raw, real, Logan. It wasn’t perfect—it wasn’t polished or smooth like the Mr. Darcy of the novels—but that didn’t matter. It was him.

You stared at him, wide-eyed, a smile tugging at your lips. “Logan, did you just quote Mr. Darcy?”

He grunted, shifting his weight a little awkwardly. “I don’t know if I got it right. It’s what you wanted, though, wasn’t it?”

Your heart swelled, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him, slow and soft, like it was the only way to say everything you felt.

When you finally pulled back, Logan’s eyes had softened, a quiet smile playing on his lips. “I’d do just about anything for you, even if it means wearing this ridiculous get-up.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Well, Mr. Darcy, I think you just made my night.”

Logan chuckled, pulling you into his arms, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. “Good. 'Cause I’m not wearin’ this again.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi!! How do you think potential meet cutes with Jason would go? Do you think he’d be instantly smitten? He strikes me as the type to get a crush on you since the first meeting but maybe I’m just delusional 🥰

My honest opinion but I don’t think Jason likes smut books. He doesn’t mind a little bit of smut but would much prefer if it was nonexistent or didn’t take up a ridiculous amount of pages/chapters in the book in general.

I’m also a delusional twat anon who believes Jason would feel something upon first meetings, but firstly I have to heavily disclose that most of your run ins with one another would be in a book store/cafe, at least more so then anywhere else. (Book reader Jason supremacy!)

So to say that your interest was peaked upon first spotted a six foot something, beast of a man standing in front of the romance section, holding two different books -which were both written by the Jane Austen- in each hand was an understatement.

Normally you wouldn’t expect a man like Jason in the romance section of a small, quite but quaint bookstore/cafe, withholding an internal conflict over some books in his head as though his life depended on it. However the fact still stands that you deeply appreciate a man with good taste in his personal readings, and wasn’t afraid to indulge in the romance genre.

It probably also didn’t help that he was a conventionally attractive man with short dark hair with a tuft of white embedded in his fringe and wearing a simple read hoodie and jeans, a simple attire that anyone could wear, but on him he made it seem as though it were a main staple of his wardrobe.

Jason, knowing when he’s being watched, as quick to look over his shoulder but what he wasn’t expecting was to see someone as cute and stunning as you standing there. He’s a little tongue tied but that was mainly from surprise, and for all of Jason’s hard attempts of trying to act natural, it only made for a spectacle that you couldn’t help but view as endearing and kinda cute.

‘You alright there?’ You’d ask with a smile.

‘Yeah. I’m good, fine even.’ Jason replied, internally cursing himself for being caught off guard because he was too involved in debating which book to take home to read.

‘So…You like Jane Austen?’ You asked, trying to make room for a conversation to occur between the two of you.

‘Wha-‘ Jason looks down at the books in either of his hands and chuckles. ‘Yeah, she’s one of my favourite alongside the likes of Mary Shelley and Louisa May Alcott.’ He answers and he could tell that he had gotten your approval with the little hum of acknowledgment.

‘Do you come here often?’ You then said before adding with an awkward laugh of your own, ‘I mean I come here quite frequently as it’s the only bookstore in town that has proper books that aren’t smut books, and i have never seen you before until well…today.’ Jason smiles, finding himself growing to like you with every passing moment as he felt himself grow relaxed within your presence, especially now that he had long deducted that you weren’t a real threat.

‘I’m with you on that pretence, it’s seems that nowadays all the bookshelves in most stores are prominently smut books of lacklustre quality and story structure.’ Jason agreed, noting being a fan of those types of books himself, Jason had found it becoming increasingly difficult to find decent books that weren’t smut, badly written girl boss self inserts, or just poorly written in general. So when he stumbled across this little book store on his way home and took a chance by entering the store, only to find himself spending way longer than he had initially thought.

And that was just in the romance section alone. That’s how Jason knew this bookstore was unlike all the rest in Gotham.

‘But as to answer your question, I come here on the off chance when I’m looking for a new book to read, seeing as I have read and re-read the books in my personal possession multiple times over.’ Jason admitted and feeling a little bashful but reading had proven to be a form of escapism for him- especially after everything he has been through recently- he felt as though this escape from reality was severely overdue.

‘You’ve got your own collection of books? Am I allowed to assume that they’re mainly Jane Austen’s body of work or?’ You trailed off, feeling yourself growing more confident with talking to Jason as though it was as easy as breathing. Finally you had someone to indulge in this sort of conversation with without it feeling forced and fall to the wayside, leaving you both to soak in the awkward and stifling aftermath.

Jason smiled genuinely as he bowed his head and raised his hands. ‘You got me down to a science…’ he trailed off once realising that he didn’t know your name and cursed himself for his lack of even the basic of etiquette.

‘Y/n.’ You told him with a smile.

‘Y/n.’ He tested out your name, letting it linger for a little bit and quickly came to the conclusion that he liked it. He liked it a lot. And you liked it also, especially when he was the one saying it the way he did just now.

‘Well it’s nice to meet you y/n. My names Jason.’ Jason then said and he knew that he’d come to like the way you said his name as though it were a mythical word;

‘Jason.’ You uttered, saying every word with care and respect that it left a weird feeling within Jason’s chest that only seems to grow and spread throughout his body the more you talked.

You two would talk for literal hours about your favourite book genres, characters and so on to the point that the owner of the bookstore would have to remove you both from the premises himself. He’d then proceed to go on about how you both were just taking the piss at this point and muttering about having to stay an while longer to properly close up shop, count the cash float, and so on before then making the journey home.

He honestly didn’t care about the books in Jason’s hand, just lets him have them for free on the pretence that both he and you get the fuck out before shutting and locking the door behind you both.

‘Well…’ Jason trailed off, tucking the books under his arm. ‘Will I see you again? Preferably here?’ He asks and you smiled sheepishly.

‘Depends, will you?’ You countered and Jason could feel the smile on his lips grow at it’s own accord. ‘Yeah, I’m definitely coming back if I get free books for every time I stay until closing hours.’ He jokes and you lightly smack his bicep, keeping your hand there for an unreasonably long time but it’s not like either you or Jason cared in that moment.

‘Then I guess I’m obligated to come back here to help you piss off the bookstore owner.’ You replied with a smile of your own as you both kept looking into the other’s eyes. You both knew something had blossomed here today at this run down bookstore, and you both hoped that it could continue like that for a long while, but neither of you were willing to admit your embarrassingly rapidly growing attraction to one another. That could wait for another time.

‘Great.’ Jason said.

‘Great.’ You echoed. ‘See you soon I guess.’

‘Soon can’t come fast enough.’ Jason replied ask you both went your separate ways with eager anticipation of your next interaction.