#I haven’t had a drop of time or motivation to do anything in weeks

[radical69rose]

The grind never stops, not even on tech week

Gay ass creek doodles to feed the algorithm you hungry hungry fiends

Ignore the horrific quality my phone is an iPhone SE from 2020

[xoalin4]

VIKING!NIKTO

I am so, so sorry this took so long. Haven’t been in the best mood lately and lost motivation to write. But I got a little baby birdie the other week, he is three weeks old now and I am in a better mood.

So here is the Viking!nikto hc (or half story, I don’t really know where I was going with this but I tried) Sorry if it isn’t how you hoped/would have liked.

WARNINGS: Non-con?/dub-con?/kidnapping/unwanted touching/murder/blood/mention of slavery?(They are Vikings after all)/mention of rape(not directed at ‘user’)/piv.

Again, deeply sorry it took so long. And forgive me if any mistakes in the writing

Nikto wasn’t a kind man, killed many too much people in times that wasn’t needed. But the king always forgave the violent Viking, he was a good fighter after all, he would be needed in raids or wars to come.

Despite his often violent actions, he was quite popular amongst the women. He had a good body, he was strong, a good fighter and he was decently good looking, and he was just really good with sex. So it wasn’t a surprise to know he had most likely fucked half the women in his village. After all, who is he to deny a woman that comes to him asking for some pleasure?

He often had sex to release some of his pent up anger which seemingly spawns out of nowhere, in a less violent way. He had a few acquaintances, he wouldn’t dare call them friends, he just tolerated them the most. So he was well known in his village for being a woman pleaser and a skilled fighter.

He enjoyed the attention— not all of it, he hated when too much attention was on him. He only wanted people to know who he was, what he has done, and fear him. Nothing more than that. But he didn’t mind the attention from the women, he loved that, and he thrived in it, knowing that he can always get a woman to let him pound his cock into.

That was until that one, fatal day. The day where he was no longer the same person— fuck, he didn’t even know who he was anymore. He could barely feel his hands that much anymore, his face felt stiff, the skin melted together in parts, burnt. His body littered in scars, burn marks from when they had thrown a torch onto him. His face, he doesn’t even want to look at it. Hates seeing it in the reflection in the lakes he cleans himself in, hated seeing the fact that his mouth was in a permanent snare.

He would do anything, take all the pain in the world, if it meant his face would be normal again. He doesn’t even know how he is alive, he swore he had died that day, he wishes he did, then maybe he would have been spared this life of pain and humiliation.

It’s funny how much scars can change someone, mentally and physically. He heard things, people, more than one, or is there just one? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore, the peace of death or the feeling of killing someone with his bare hands again, both sound pleasing.

He didn’t get much attention from women that much more, often times they looked disgusted or scared. It was funny in a way, how people easily give up on someone after their looks change. He can’t blame them tho, he would be disgusted too. The men didn’t seem to care that much for it, they seemed quite pleased in a way, they got more women after all.

So he wears a mask to cover his face, save him the humiliation. It was uncomfortable but he got used to it quickly, it put more weight onto his body as it was metal. But he felt comforted in a way, the mask was now his face, less gruelling, less hideous.

Kill, Kill, Kill. That was the only thing going through nikto’s mind, kill them all, his axe piercing through a man’s back as the pain had tried to run, blood pooling out of his mouth as he drops to the floor. Nikto chest rising fast and heavy, his eyes wide and pupils small in an almost animalistic way. He loved this, the blood, the screams, the horror of it all.

On to the next, another man dead, another life taken by nikto’s hands, or axe in other words. Blood splattered on his mask, hands and axe dripping with it, the ground red as screams go off around him. A raid, he loved them, loved destruction, loved the fear in the people’s eyes as Vikings raid their land, taking the women and some of men to use as slaves, slaughtering the people that resided here.

Nikto wasn’t really into all the kidnapping shit, he was there for the death, none of the rape and slavery stuff. He wanted to kill people that’s all, that’s the only thing he is good at. But when he saw you, something changed in him, he completely forgot about the man he was currently killing, his axe logged into the man’s side as the man cries in pain on the ground. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, you were.. beautiful. Okay, maybe not the number one beautifulest person, but on the Gods you were the beautifulest he has seen.

You were different, instead of crying and pleading on your knees like the other women, you had a knife in your hand, stabbing it into the neck of one of his village buddies who was trying to grab you. I mean, sure, he has seen women kill in his village, a lot actually, a couple were in on the raids. But it was different coming from you, you dressed differently from the women in this village he was raiding, you looked odd compared to the other women.

You were trying to protect yourself and get out of the village, but the other people that were running were in your way. He never found the idea of taking a woman for himself that pleasing, he used to get them all the time, but that was years ago, when he actually had looks. But Gods be dammed if he was going to let this opportunity go. Taking his axe and logging it through the man’s skull, shutting him up.

Walking over to you, his eyes locked onto your form and yours only, pushing some of the people out of the way, he needed to get to you, it was as if his body willed him to do that and that only. He watched as you saw him at the last second, turning around and trying to stab him. But completely failed as he snatched your wrist, he picked you up hoisted your body over his shoulder, as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t! Not much to him anyway, you were easy to carry. If he ignored your squirming around and your fists hitting his back that is.

Oh, oh you were perfect, perfect for him, if only you would stop screaming and crying that is. He is going to give you a good life, back at his small house tucked away in the trees, away from the village, but in his home. A little trophy you were, a feisty one that is, but hey, he always liked a bit of a challenge.

Tho he hadn’t anticipated the fact that you wouldn’t be used to the weather in his village, it was almost winter, and soon snow would cover every part of ground. Back where he had saved you kidnapped you you didn’t have snow, you had cold weathers but not this cold. You were freezing your ass off, teeth chattering and fingers numb.

Nikto and his horrible ability to look after anything that is alive, he forgot to get you extra clothes for your small, weak body. You had gotten sick within the first week. And now nikto had to go back to the village and try to get some herbs and thicker clothes to keep you warm, he wouldn’t want his slave to die just yet.

Thankfully he had managed to help you over your sickness, getting you back to health. Tho, that is where the problems started. He kept his house warm, gave you thick clothes and even offered to help you warm up (tired to have sex with you). He fed you, decently enough. He kept you warm, gave you a house to live in, didnt try and force himself on you yet. didn’t give you your own bed sadly, you had to share one with him. But other than that, he had given you everything you could have possibly needed!

So this is how you repay him, by smashing the leg of the wooden chair that was in his house over his head when he had came through the front door. Using the fact he had stumbled over and grabbed the back of his head in pain as your advantage, and running out the door. Stupid thing to do.

A man like him only had so much patience, and he just happens to have little of it. But he had tried to be patient with you, he was slow with everything, didn’t go overboard with touching you, even tho he wanted nothing more then to stuff his fat cock into your cunt the moment he saw you.

So why did you have to run? Had he not given you enough stuff to keep you here? Had he done something wrong? Possibly not! He saved you from that stinky village you were in, saved you from working at that farm, around shit and mud. Given you a home to do nothing, no work, nothing but to please him in.

So why?

He had asked himself as he trailed after you, did you really think you could get away from him? Or were you just stupid? He could see your footprints in the show, trailing out into the forest. His head was bleeding, making his shirt become dark coloured, and he felt a bit dizzy. You had a strong hit, that was for sure, left a painful ache in his head. He couldn’t let you get away with that, no, not after everything he has done for you.

It was easy to find you, well you gave him a bit of trouble, you had gotten pretty far in the amount of time you left, farther then he thought you would make it. But he knew the forest well, knew where everything was, knew where to look, so it didn’t take him long.

You had run though the cold forest, the snow slowing you down a bit, luckily it wasn’t that thick, because holy fuck it was hard to run in it. You were panting, lips turning blue and face stinging, it was freezing and the wind didn’t help. You didn’t even know where you were running, but you didn’t care, as long as it got you away from that lunatics place.

Did he really think you were going to stay there? Think you were going to fold and bend over for him since he gave you food and clothes? By the Gods no, absolutely not. You couldn’t even understand him! Only the simple words he knew how to say so you would understand, ‘eat’ ‘sleep’ ‘stay’ and a couple others.

You hated it there, he was creepy and old, a stinky old man! That is what he was, forcing you to lay in the same bed as him, wrapping his arms around you so you are immobilised and unable to move. Having to feel his strong chest up against your back, breathe against your shoulder as it passed through the mask he wore. Hands occasionally moving to touch your thighs or to straight up grope your tits

Not to mention when he baths you, he was kind enough to warm the water by boiling it but that wasn’t the point! You had tried to argue with him, tried to tell him to get out of the room or to turn around so he wouldn’t see you. Which he definitely understood what you meant but didn’t care, forcing you into the wooden tub, naked and exposed. Luckily you had managed to convince him to let you clean yourself instead of him doing it.

Like hell you were going to stay in that place, he even had this weird dog looking thing— definitely wasn’t a dog. But you didn’t know what it was, but it was just as creepy and scary as him. And it stunk! Talk about being related to a mutt, no wonder they got along. But this wasn’t the time to think of that, you had to run, get away remember?

Yes, that is what you were supposed to do, run, escape and never return to that maniacs hut. You weren’t supposed to feel a hand grab the back of your neck, nor being thrown into the snowy ground as a tall figure stands over you. This wasn’t how it’s supposed to go! Why can’t the Gods give you at least some luck? Did you upset them with something? Because you would beg and plead for how ever many years it’ll take if it meant they’ll spare you from the absolute, horrifying glare this man is sending you.

He was pissed, no, more than that, the man looked like he was about to rip you apart limb to limb. You wanted to take back what you did— say that you’ll be good and please him if it meant he wouldn’t drag you back by your hair and chain you up outside his place like you were a dog, out in the freezing snow with noting back a thin, stinky, dress. You really do wish you hadn’t done that, should have waited longer maybe, when he wasn’t in the house.

But no, now you were suffering the consequences. At least he didn’t beat you to death like you half expected he would have done when he had dragged you back, tho you half wish he would if it meant he wouldn’t leave you outside for hours in the snow until it felt like your limbs were about to fall off.

You were so, so cold, lips bluish purple, hands numb and you could barley feel your feet! His house was mere feet away, but you couldn’t get to it, the chain around your neck keeping you tired down to a wooden stake outside. Your eyes half lidded and you felt as if this was your end, you time had finally come. At least you would get to see your family again, because you doubt they managed to escape the Vikings.

But just as you felt like you were going to pass out, your light in shining armour came out, your kidnapper. You don’t know if you should feel thankful or wish you were left out there for longer. But he had brought you inside, put you into the tub of heated water and made sure you didn’t drown in it as he surprisingly gently bathed you and got you warm. The room was warm, the fire which had warmed up the pots of water keeping the hut lighted and warm.

You didn’t fight him, you couldn’t even, you were too cold, but slowly the warmth was coming back into your body. He had taken you out, dried you, and Brought you to the bed he shared with you. You still felt cold tho, the warm bath didn’t warm deep inside you unfortunately. But don’t worry, he’ll help with that, he’ll make sure you are very, very warm.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t THAT rough, he didn’t tear at your skin and eat you alive like you imagined him too. His hands running along your body, groping at your breasts even as you whimpered and protested, but still too weak to push him away. He looked like a feral beast right now, or just a horny old man. Shoulders rising and falling fast, heavy breathing, eyes wide and pupils dilated, bare hands gripping your thighs as he shuffled between them.

He had such rough hands, and the top part of his pinkie finger missing on his right hand along with dints and burn marks along his large hands. He looked like he didn’t know what to do for a second— had it really been that long since the man got some pussy? Yes, seven years since the the man only used his hand.

He was even shaking! A bulge in his pants, fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was drooling underneath that mask of his. He didn’t take it off, and part of you is glad, you didn’t particularly want to see the face of the man who had literally kidnapped you and forced you to live in his home, and now was about to fuck you to help you get warm, after he had locked you outside.

You were scared, terrified honestly, afraid of what this man was going to do to your poor pussy, what this VIKING was going to do to your poor pussy. You had had sex before, with a few village boys back In your home but they were all your age, immature boys who didn’t really know what to do. You didn’t know if he was going to be brutal with it or not, if he would leave your pussy ruined and aching in pain. He was a Viking after all, and from what you read, all of them are rough, cruel, and nasty.

But you didn’t have much time to think about it, because his hand was already down there, spreading your lips to him with his index and middle finger, his other hand holding your waist to keep you put as you tried to squirm away. A cry of— pain? Pleasure? Leaving your lips as a finger thrusted onto you, stretching your walls which left you gripping the fur of the bed. It hurt slightly, the stretch, but at the same time felt slightly good. But then he added two more, which stretched you wider and made you cry out as they thrusted in and out of you. Preparing you, not forcing himself inside like a desperate mutt.

But it wasn’t long until you got the full thing, you hated to admit it, but he was fucking good. Tears rolling down your cheeks as your legs wrapped tighter around his thick hips, his fat cock plunging deep inside your sopping pussy. He was big, a thick and decently long cock, and it was.. how do you say it in the most pleasant way— it was half burnt. Simple as that, a scratchy feeling to it as it slid along your walls, it wasn’t unpleasant, it heightened the experience for you actually! It felt good, and he was hitting all the right places.

You doubt he could feel that side of it tho, but he still felt the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, that was obvious by the way he was panting and groaning into your neck like a dog on heat. Rutting up into your cunt over and over and OVER again. You were so tight, warm, fuck you were perfect for him, you felt so good. A pretty little thing you were, even tho you were a fucking brat and had basically tried to kill him earlier. He would forgive you for that, as this was the perfect apology you could give him, even tho he had taken it forcefully from you.

But you were enjoying it, you were moaning loudly and had tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks. Your hands clawing at his back, leaving scratch marks down his already heavily scarred back. But he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy it, because he did, it felt absolutely fucking delicious to him.

He wish he wasn’t in wearing his mask right now, so he could take one of your bouncing breasts into his mouth, or even to kiss you to shut your moans up. But that will have to be for another time, he wasn’t ready just yet, he wasn’t sure if he would ever be. But he isn’t going to dwell on it that much, not when he had a pretty feisty little lady to fuck his kids into.

By the end of the night, you were definitely warmed up, wrapped in the arms of a large, sweaty man who practically clings to your body. Hands groping your tits as his masked face lays against the back of your neck, the feeling of his semen still leaking out of your swollen, aching cunt. He did leave it aching in the end, but at least it wasn’t in pain.

Ok, I might have gone overboard with it. It honestly wasn’t supposed to be this long, lmao.

Sorry if this was shit, I tried, and took fucking forever to make, I’ll take all the blame for that😔

Please tell me if it’s shit or not and if there is another warning I should put in because I missed something. Thank you for reading of you got this far🙏

[transforming]

Dane's Unexpected Vacation

Here's a little something I put together, as a commission for @tf-lover, who's been such an amazing friend of mine in the TF community, with a shoutout to his amazing work and his collaborations with @mrwavellswaps! Enjoy!

-----

It had been a particularly long week for Dane De Bruin. 

It was nearly a year ago when his life changed forever, from being a skinny young teacher who was tired of his life and having to deal with annoying teenagers, to a bona fide magical hunk, and now having a boyfriend in the form of the marvelous Mr Wavell. That was a whirlwind, magic carpet ride of a journey all on its own, not only becoming such a stud but also discovering he probably had powers of his own. Dane worked and trained with Mr Wavell, in the real world and in their home in the pocket dimension, to figure out what magic he has deep within him, as he channeled Wavell’s powers to help others find true happiness and fulfill their hidden desires.

He knew that loads of guys had a kink for soft, squishy pecs like his, and as much as he could make money appear from the snap of his fingers, he also thought about the thousands of pounds he could earn just from showing off his man-tits. That said, he began venturing into social media, posting at least once a week on Instagram for thirsty fans who’d be willing to pay him anything to support him, and even send him cute drawings that would especially highlight his knockers. It got a kick out of him, and in a way, he was helping people feel satisfied and fulfilled, and he was feeling great about that.

On top of all that, most recently he had been helping out Mr Wavell collect testimonials on the Homo Bomb he had dropped on the town of Bellmare, dividing up their research across the town’s residents. It was quite fascinating to see how the magical bomb changed the townspeople, varying from the simple change of straight men turning gay, already gay men turning into their fantasies or crushes, to the rare anomalies of women becoming men. The beach town was definitely a notable case study for the books, and it was worth examining on how happy people could be with the help of sudden magic being dropped upon them, all thanks to his boyfriend.

-----

However, in the past few days, Dane started to notice that he was getting quite tired, and it threw off everything he had been doing. He felt less motivated to go to the gym, and without a nice enough pump to show off, he delayed posting anything new on Instagram. Even channeling Wavell’s magic for his own use has been more strenuous than normal, and with Wavell busy collecting his side of testimonies from Bellmare, they haven’t had much time to themselves: whether it was to have a bit of fun in the bedroom, to work on strengthening Dane’s magical abilities, or simply to have lunch together.  It was similar to the draining feeling he experienced long before when he was a teacher, dealing with these pesky kids who didn’t listen to him, or dealing with an admin that ignored his needs for support in the classroom – except that he was drained from everything that he enjoyed doing as Dane. 

As much as he hated to admit it, Dane knew he was being stretched thin, and that he was on the verge of majorly burning out. He was in desperate need of a break. One day, when he finally mustered up enough courage, he eventually sat down with his boyfriend.

“Wavell, babe, I need to talk to you,” Dane said, looking forlorn and exhausted.

Wavell walked over from the kitchen with two glasses of red wine in his hand, handing one to his lover. “What is it, Dane?” he asked as they both sat down.

Dane sighed. “It’s been so amazing spending time with and falling in love with you babe. I’ve loved every moment we’ve spent together, and honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. The magic, our relationship and getting to channel your magic, the sex…” Dane chuckled a bit. “Even this Homo Bomb has been crazy interesting to observe.”

Wavell smiled and wrapped his arm around Dane’s waist as he took a sip of his pinot. “And I love you so much, baby. I still can’t believe you’re my boyfriend after all this time. How long has it been? What, nearly ten months since I made you into Dane?”

“Yeah, just about.” Dane smiled, as he took a sip of his wine. “I love you too, babe. Like I said, everything we’ve done together has made me feel so much happier, and life feels so worthwhile with you…” Dane paused, hesitating for a moment, but enough for Wavell to notice.

“I can sense a ‘but’ coming in,” Wavell said, kissing Dane’s cheek. “Dane, don’t worry, you know you can always tell me anything.”

Dane sighed once more, as he slumped his shoulders and finished his glass of wine in one gulp. “I can’t exactly pinpoint why, but I’m just feeling really drained. I’ve noticed it in the little things. Not feeling enough hype to work out, I don’t feel as strong as I know I could be after all our training and after using your powers, and in general I just feel a bit tired.”

Wavell looked down, thinking about it for a moment. In his experience, he knew that magic was enough to keep one energetic and dynamic, but he’d also heard enough stories of other warlocks and possessors of magic to know that not getting enough rest and relaxation could completely destroy their magic and revert them back to what they used to be, or even worse, drain them out of existence. A few of his own friends had disappeared in the past. He pulled Dane close, kissed him softly, and let him rest his head on his lap, 

“You definitely need some R&R, Dane,” Wavell replied, smiling sweetly as he caressed Dane’s hair. “Your powers are still relatively new, and I don’t want to see you completely drained out when you’re still growing them to their full potential.”

Dane felt tears well up in his eyes, and after a deep breath, he felt them stream down his cheeks. “I know, babe. I just… I didn’t wanna let you down.” Dane sniffled, while Wavell rubbed his V-tapered back, comforting him.

“You’ll never let me down, babe. Never. But you shouldn’t ever be ashamed to tell me you’re tired, or to ask for a break when you need one.” Wavell wiped the tears from Dane’s cheeks, as he ran his hand down Dane’s arm to calm him. 

Wavell smirked as he lifted Dane’s head off his lap and embraced him. “You deserve this break. And luckily, I know just the guy to help you out.” 

Dane raised an eyebrow. “Who is this guy?”

Wavell chuckled. “His name’s Drew, and he runs this new resort where magicians like us can go to relax. It’s a new venture he’s exploring, an idea that came to him when he was taking a break of his own after running Transformation College years ago.”

Dane’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘The guy who created Transformation College is back?’, he thought. “I thought he’d disappeared long ago. He’s around again?”

Wavell nodded. “Yep, he’s back, and he’s hoping, since he’s running a resort, he can take it a bit easier than last time. The college really burnt him out,” he chuckled, “but I think Drew’s Transformational Resort could benefit you. Plus, knowing him well, he’ll cover all your expenses.”

Dane smiled, and kissed his lover with a renewed passion. “I fucking love you Wavell.”

“And I love you more, Dane. You deserve a break, and don’t worry about the Homo Bomb testimonies, I can cover that. For now, all you need to do is relax, yeah?” Wavell smiled brightly. The couple got up and headed towards the front door. Holding hands, they stepped out of the house and towards a little tropical hut with a bamboo door on the eastern end of Wavell’s pocket dimension. “Here we are. Just straight through that door and you’ll be at the resort.”

As he held the doorknob, Dane looked into Wavell’s eyes one last time and held his hand. “I’m gonna miss you. I wish you could come with me,” his voice quivered as he said that to his lover.

“I’m gonna miss you too, babe. But I know if I’m gonna be there, you might not be able to recuperate fully, considering we still don’t know what your magical powers are, if you have any. Plus, I don’t know if we’d even be able to relax at all with how much sex we’d have,” Wavell chuckled. He squeezed Dane’s hand once more, kissing him softly, before Dane opened the door and entered through.

-----

Once he was fully through, he was quickly blinded by a bright white light. Dane closed his eyes tightly, then when he opened them again, he found himself on the shore of a pristine white beach, on a secluded island completely surrounded by miles and miles of ocean. He could feel the water wade between toes, and the sand stick to his soles, as he looked around, the door to Wavell’s dimension nowhere to be seen. He then noticed that he was shirtless and just wearing a pair of beach shorts, which surprised him. “Woah, this is trippy,” he muttered to himself as he walked off the beach onto the grass further in, seeing a collection of small beachside villas, two larger buildings, and what appeared to be a lobby, where a young, shirtless and handsome stud stood behind a desk, holding a small flower in hand.

Dane walked over to the desk, but before he could speak, the young hunk turned and smiled. “Dane De Bruin?” he asked.

Dane stepped back. “H-how did you know?”

The handsome stud, who looked around college age, smirked. “Wavell told me everything before you arrived.” Dane chuckled, Wavell was always one step ahead of him. “I’m Drew, by the way,” the himbo-looking stud said, reaching out his hand for Dane to shake.

Dane reciprocated the handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Drew. Did Wavell already tell you why I’m here?” he replied. Drew simply nodded, and quickly turned around to grab a passion fruit tequila welcome cocktail for Dane, handing it to him.

“We offer a lot of services, but our main purpose here at Drew’s Transformational Resort is magical rejuvenation, helping magicians such as yourself regain control over your powers, and come back feeling relaxed and reborn,” Drew smirked naughtily as he spoke. Luckily, Dane didn’t notice. Drew led Dane down a small, rustic path through the resort, passing by the restaurant and then the spa, all of it looked amazing and luxurious. They stopped at a villa, and Drew opened the door. It was a simple space, but a beautiful one too: a king-sized bed with an extremely soft coconut mattress that felt like sleeping on a cloud; an outdoor shower surrounded by a wall filled with orchid vines; a door that led to the back porch, which had its own swimming pool and jacuzzi; and further out, Dane’s own little cove, which was surrounded by coconut palms and hibiscus trees. It was all spectacularly beautiful.

“Wow,” Dane said, blown away by it all.

“I really worked hard on curating unique experiences for all my guests,” Drew replied, smiling as Dane walked around his villa and took it all in. “And first on the agenda for your Ultimate Relaxation and Rejuvenation package is a whole spa day.” 

Dane turned and beamed at Drew. “Lead the way then Drew. I’m so excited for this.”

Drew smiled back and handed Dane his key card for the villa, before he led the way back up the path to the spa. As he looked around, Dane noticed a staff member at the hotel that looked like Drew. Then another one that drove a buggy. And then another at the front desk of the spa. The Drew working at the spa chuckled. “Yep, this whole resort is run by me.”

Dane laughed, impressed. “That’s amazing. So you could basically clone yourself?”

Spa-Drew nodded as he took things from Reception-Drew, leading Dane into a massage room. Dane quickly stripped out of his beach shorts and hopped onto the massage bed, while Spa-Drew placed a pair of AirPods into his ears, which began to play calming jazz music, canceling out all the noise and letting Dane doze off to sleep as Spa-Drew got to work. Once he knew that Dane was completely asleep, thanks to the binaural beats he added to keep Dane asleep in a deep trance, Drew took out a magical kit of essential oils, ointments, scrubs and tools. He smirked, and opened the bottle of plumeria essential oil.

Rubbing some between his hands, Drew began massaging Dane, kneading his back muscles and defining them even more till they were shredded. Reaching his shoulders, Drew built up Dane’s traps, and broadened his shoulders just a bit, his hands defining Dane’s delts, then worked his way down his arms and sculpting them like clay, defining them even further till they looked more youthful and strong. As Drew rubbed the oil all over Dane through the massage, a golden sun-kissed tan began to seep across Dane’s body, washing out his pale white skin until it looked like he spent a lot of time at the beach, and all his body hair receded, leaving him smooth and supple like a baby.

Drew smirked as he peeled off the towel that covered Dane’s ass. Lathering his cheeks up with more oil, he massaged them and rounded them up till they were bubbly yet firm with muscle. Finishing up the backside, Drew knuckled down on Dane’s thighs, shaping them till they were like well-defined tree trunks, and softly pressed on his calves till they gained a more aesthetic diamond shape. Upon reaching his feet, Drew squeezed every part –stretching Dane’s toes, knuckling his soles and pressing his ankles, till Dane’s feet shrunk by just a bit to accommodate his now slightly shorter stature.

Drew took a good look at Dane’s backside before turning him over, lifting Dane up with ease as if he were a paper doll. Once Dane was fully turned around, Drew chuckled as he continued pouring more oil all over Dane’s body. Fondling Dane’s pecs, Drew squeezed the soft, supple man-tits till the hairs receded and the pecs were more sculpted and firm with muscle, then worked down on his abs and sculpted each one till the ridges were sharply defined and looked like a washboard. Since the legs were technically done, Drew simply ran his oiled-up hands over the quads and shins, which caused any remaining leg hairs to completely disappear, then lifted up Dane’s arms to pour a strong, musky oil into it, rubbing it into his pits until the rest of his body began emanating the same intense smell.

Dane’s body was completely transformed, from looking like a big muscular Daddy to a young bodybuilder physique, but Drew wasn’t quite done yet. He smirked as he lifted the still-sleeping Dane across the room to a parlor chair, then grabbing the rest of his tools. First things first, Drew applied some shaving cream onto Dane’s face, massaging it deep into his jaw, then pulled out a razor and began shaving off all of Dane’s stubble and precious mustache. No stubble or facial hair was left behind, as Drew left Dane’s face squeaky clean like a baby. Grabbing the aftershave, he mixed it with some of the plumeria oil and massaged it into Dane’s face. It began to reshape, as his skin began to pull tighter as it regained its youth, pulling Dane back a few years in appearance till it looked like he was in his mid-20s, but the aftershave prevented him from growing any facial hair again. 

As he kept up his work, Drew massaged the upper part of Dane’s face, the golden tan creeping up and washing his face, as Drew reshaped Dane’s eyes to have a more almond-like, distinctly Asian shape, while plucking out his eyebrows to define them further and make them look less bushy. Carefully, Drew opened Dane’s eyes and popped in a pair of dark brown, permanent contacts, and pierced Dane’s ears with simple silver diamond studs, making him look even more youthful. Finally, Drew pulled out a pair of scissors, a shaver and a comb, and cut off Dane’s luscious locks till his hair was shorter, with tapered fades on the sides, like a jock’s type of haircut, then topped it off by rubbing some coconut oil into hi hair until Dane’s rich brown waves turned jet black and straight. Dane was too deep in slumber to notice anything amiss, or even feel what was going on, he just felt very relaxed.

Once it was all finished, within just an hour of Dane’s arrival at the resort, Spa-Drew handed Dane over to one of the other Drews, who took him back to his villa, and dressed him up in a tank top, gym shorts and sneakers, and pulled out the AirPods. The magic of the massage and the oils Drew used had definitely rejuvenated him, and had helped rebuild the strength of his magical powers, but gave him a completely new appearance.

It was around sunset when Dane finally woke up, feeling plenty rested after having slept for most of the day. He smiled. “Fuck me, that –” Dane shut his mouth. His voice. It sounded different. Younger, for sure, but it wasn’t the deep, gravelly voice he knew to be his own. He looked down and saw a fitter, more shredded body than his, and his eyes widened. He rushed over to the mirror, and finally saw what had happened – he looked nothing like how he came in – he now had the appearance of a young Asian jock.

“Do you like the new look?” Drew said, leaning against the doorframe leading to the cove. “Enjoy your vacation, Dane. Just relax, get away from it all, and enjoy the new body – it’s yours until you get bored of it!” Drew chuckled as he ran off, leaving Dane stunned.

How will he explain this to Wavell when he goes back?

-----

I hope you all enjoyed this story!

Speaking of commissions, I will be opening up commissions to everyone very soon - keep your eyes peeled for a detailed post on it!

You can also tip me over on ko-fi, if you can't or don't want to commission! You don't have to tip me, but any support is always welcome.

[aiizenn]

strawberry lollipop. gojo satoru.

ₓ˚. ୭ cw: none? fem!reader, college au, some bits of jock gojo.

will probably make this into a series, idk yet?

tsk “i knew it, you’re all talk and no action satoru.”

gojo smirks “alright, just say who.”

“her”

gojo turns towards the direction sukuna was looking. there you were, looking so bright — full of joy. you were handing out flyers to students on campus. he’d never seen someone show so much enthusiasm on something before.

“piece of cake” he says as he removes the lollipop from his mouth. “you do know i like challenges, right? you’re making this too easy. i’ll have her wrapped around my finger before you know it.”

“we’ll see about that. you have a few weeks, win her over only to break her heart in the end, until then you can live up to your reputation.”

suguru just sits next to his best friend shaking his head at the situation. “this is ridiculous, just leave her alone.”

“oh come on suguru, it’s only a bet. what’s the worst thing that can happen? fall in love with her? as if! just watch and learn.” gojo makes his way towards you, getting ready to win your heart and the bet.

“please take the flyer and consider signing up for the make it green event our campus is hosting. you can donate supplies to plant trees or participate by planting them with many others. you’ll be making a huge difference.” every word left your lips filled with excitement. by far you have done so well in handing out multiple flyers and getting participants for the event, nothing could ruin your mood.

“may i have one?”

“of course” you turn around and for a split second your smile drops. you take back what you were thinking just seconds ago, something... no, someone can ruin your mood. the white haired, 6 ft tall guy with a bright smile standing right in front of you. anything he does is trouble, and you know it. what is he up to now? your thoughts are interrupted by him clearing his throat, snapping back to reality you hand him a flyer.

“where can i sign up?” he looks up after reading the paper.

sign up? did you hear that right? gojo satoru actually wants to help? or is he looking for something to make himself look good? whatever his motive is doesn’t matter, the more the better.

“here, you can write your name under the options provided. you can choose one or all, it is up to you.”

“hmm, i’ll do all”

you were skeptical, but you let it go. “okay then, take this wristband and wear it on the day of the event. many will have different colors, each one indicates a different task. yours means that you’ll be helping out with almost everything.” as you glanced over to him you saw his face with an expression of disbelief for a brief second. “you can wear anything comfortable and of your liking, both food and drinks will be provided. this card has all the information, just in case if you have any questions.”

“cool…what will you be doing?” okay, now you’re starting to build up your walls even higher, what’s with him? why is he interested? you decide to tell him, maybe then he’ll leave.

“same as you” you said as you turned around to hand out more flyers. you swear you heard him mutter jackpot, it could just be the excruciating heat that’s affected you after many hours outside walking and talking. ‘just one more hour’ you thought, you were determined to see this through, you had your reasons to do this under the hot sun. just a little more to go.

“looks like you haven’t had lunch yet” says the annoyingly—good looking, tall, now next to you guy. not that he has to know. you turn to give him a smile that clearly and kindly says to leave. of course you haven’t had lunch, doing this on your own was nice but exhausting as well. leaving you with little to no time for yourself, again, just one more hour.

“here”, you turn to see him with his arm extended towards you with a lollipop on his hand—strawberry flavored. you look up to him with confusion. a soft yet playful smile plastered on his face.

“it’s an extra one i had” he says as he shrugs. now you are dumbfounded, everything he’s done within the last few minutes has made your brain go crazy. gojo satoru has not only shown “interest” in something that isn’t games, partying, or anything that walks with something in between their legs, but he was also…caring?

“you need some sugar, love. hours without eating can cause you to faint.” he says ever so sweetly as he takes your unoccupied hand and places the very delicious looking lollipop on it. looking down to your hand and up to him again, he has a toothy smile, a rare sight. he places one of his hands in his pocket while the other gets a sticker from the table. he walks away and turns around while walking backwards.

“see you in a few days” he semi-shouts given the distance. gives you a wink and walks away. you look down, getting the lollipop closer, you notice tiny letters in the bottom left corner of the wrapper. G.S, you scoff as you look up in disbelief. this isn’t going to be easy.

[okaylorrainee]

her way of water

characters. neteyam & female reader. sully family. tsireya.

synopsis. neteyam and his family left their clan to seek uturu from yours. on their first night, neteyam wanders by the shore to clear his mind. he finds himself away from everyone’s marui pods and comes across you as you bathed - he couldn’t get you out of his mind since then.

note. went out to touch grass + visited my grandparents so this chapter was uploaded a bit later than intended hehe. thank you to everyone who read the first chapter! i wasn’t expecting to wake up to 100+ notes today so i am very grateful :)! shoutout to my irls btw. avatar has been our motivation to get through hell week last week lol anyways enjoy reading!

taglist: @rainbowsocks @mashiromochi

Ch 02 [ previous . masterlist . next ]

you were a simple member of the metkayina clan. born from warrior parents, you grew up to be a huntress taught by the adults in the clan. as a young na’vi, you would accompany the older members whenever they hunted so you could learn and get better experience. your tasks weren’t limited to hunting, however. you enjoyed helping everyone out. everyday consisted of different activities for you depending on whoever needed help the most. for some days, you would spend your time weaving nets or clothing for the other clan members, and on other days, you would play with the children, teaching them the basics of clan traditions. 

you loved crafting during your free time. the others would find you sitting somewhere creating ornaments or weapons for yourself from leftovers from the animals you’ve hunted. you considered them as a keepsake from your time hunting with the others, every moment was an important memory for you. you were quite the sentimental one.

since hunting took up most of your time, you haven’t had the opportunity to hang out with the na’vi your age. everyone else was busy with their own duties as well, so you understood there wasn’t a chance to get closer.

tsireya was different though. she always found the time to get to know you, and eventually, she became your only close friend. you were probably just one of hers, but it didn’t matter to you, you were content with your friendship.

at the moment, you were in your marui, tying up the last few shells to the new net top you were working on. it was coming out beautifully, just how you envisioned it. you were busy admiring your work when a familiar voice interrupted your silence.

“sister, are you here?” 

you turn around and a smile finds its way to your face, “tsireya, it is nice to see you.” you released your creation, letting it drop to the netting. you stood up and held your hands out; she approached you with a smile, taking your palms.

“i have missed you all day. did you have to be gone all afternoon?” 

you chuckled, “i have enjoyed myself too much out there. you know i would rather enjoy the freedom of the ocean instead of cooping in this small pod.”

tsireya giggles at your statement. her eyes find their way to the net top you were working on. “i see you have made another one. the clothing you make is very lovely as always.”

“thank you, sister. i appreciate that compliment. would you like one as well?”

her face brightened even more. “really? you would make one for me? i would love that.”

you nodded, “of course, anything for my friend.”

she gives you another soft smile before letting you go. “to tell you the truth sister, i did not come to you for this reason.” she said, “i have a favor to ask of you.”

you gave her a curious look as you picked up the top from the netting. “oh? do tell.”

tsireya began walking around your marui, “you know about the forest na’vi from the omatikaya clan who arrived yesterday, and how my brother and i were tasked to teach toruk makto’s children, correct?”

“... yes?” you urged her to continue.

“i know this would only add to your schedule,” she stands firmly and faces you, “but we need your help for their breathing exercise tomorrow.”

you tilted your head in confusion. “why, tsireya? i am sure you are more than enough to help them learn. you are a very great teacher.”

“but you will be better!” she grabbed your arm. “sister, you are the best swimmer among us in our age, and i know even ao’nung would not object to that.”

you hummed in disapproval. “i am not so sure about that…”

“please,” her grip on your arm tightens, “you have to do it. i would like to introduce you to them. the others have not been very nice to them, but you will, right?”

you stared at her for a few seconds, thinking about how you’ll reply to her. but then again, what harm could it bring? you missed the opportunity to see them yesterday after all when everyone crowded around them and blocked your view. tsireya was begging you with her large eyes, how could you refuse your friend?

you sighed, “alright. i will be there tomorrow.”

with a small squeal, she jumped with your arm in her hands. “great! you will enjoy it, i promise!”

tsireya spent a few more minutes in your pod, chatting about each other's day and some other random stuff. when dark came, you’ve decided to stay inside and finish the net top you promised your friend the afternoon earlier.

–

neteyam had the entire evening to think about his discussion with tsireya and to decide what to do about it. eventually, he came to the conclusion to approach the na’vi he saw that night, and just talk to her. he didn’t know how he’d start and what he’d talk about honestly, but he refused to act like a coward. a mighty warrior such as himself is afraid to talk to a girl? lo’ak would be laughing his ass off if he found out.

and so, that’s what he came back here for. same time, same place. only now, he wasn’t hiding behind a tree. he was waiting out in the open, looking behind himself every now and then to check if the na’vi he was waiting for was approaching.

neteyam had stayed in the same spot for so long, gradually getting impatient. perhaps she had something to do which is why she was late? - is what he’s been telling himself for who knows how long. but his optimism was wavering every passing moment. what if he had only seen her there by coincidence? what if he had lost his opportunity the night before because he ran away when she was leaving the water? what if… she wasn’t real and was only in his mind?

minutes turned to hours, and it would only be a while before the sun rises. neteyam heavily sighs, standing up and brushing off the sand clinging on his skin. a dark expression on his face, he heads back to the village in disappointment.

neteyam went back to sleep after that. what else could he do? it was stupid of him to waste his time over there. hopefully he'll have enough energy to train tomorrow. it would be suspicious of him to not perform well.

when he woke up, his family was feasting on fish for lunch just behind him. they said they couldn’t wake him up as he was in such deep sleep. they didn’t question him, thinking he must’ve been overwhelmed with his training; neteyam didn’t bother to say anything else as he followed to eat.

–

training with the sullys was fast approaching, and you had just gotten back from hunting with some elders. you were rushing to your marui, a net of fishes in your hand; they will be dinner for you and some other clan members later on.

biting your lip, you ran through nets and nets of pods just to get to yours. you had to drop off these fish first and grab the top you’ve made for tsireya before heading to the training place. you couldn’t afford to be late; you didn’t want to upset your friend.

out of nowhere, a na’vi appears right in your face when you jump to take a turn around the pods. their sudden appearance caused you to lose balance and tumble right on your ass, almost falling into the water. your grip around the net loosened because you had to hold on to something else to support yourself, and this made you release your hunted fishes into the water. 

“ah.” you watched as the net slowly sank towards the seabed. eywa, have mercy. what disrespect to the blessings she gave you.

“i will get it.” before you knew it, the na’vi dived right into the water, and you could only watch as he swam to get your fish.

when he floated to the surface, it was only then did you confirm he was not from awa’atlu. his blue skin, thin arms and tail told you he was one of the sullys, because who else could he be?

you observed him as he placed the fish on the netting next to you before climbing up, his braided hair occasionally covering his face as it swayed all over. as soon as he stood up, he held his hand out to help you get on your feet. you grabbed his hand without a word, taking note of how firm and manly they were as you stared at his dripping wet face. it was difficult not to, but you were definitely eyeing him. 

he was so different from the metkayina men you’ve been used to. is this why tsireya was so drawn to that one sully boy she kept talking about yesterday? you kind of understood now.

“i am sorry about that. are you hurt anywhere?” he asks.

“no. i am fine.” you replied, and you swore you saw his eyes shot up to yours. “thank you for grabbing my fish. you did not have to do that.” his staring was starting to melt you that you looked away. “uhm… i must go now. goodbye.” you didn’t even give him a chance to say anything else, and just went around him to walk away.

you hadn’t noticed how his head spun to follow you, eyes squinting as if he was thinking. but the man tilted his head and brushed it off, walking away as if nothing happened.

©️ okaylorrainee 2023. please do not re-upload, translate my content anywhere without permission.

Ch 02 [ previous . masterlist . next ]

[jimxnslight]

Chapter 3: Stalker [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, my motivation has just been so bad because of uni. And now with exams coming up, I can't really promise anything, but after my exams are over I'll definitely be more active!

<< previous chapter || masterlist || next chapter >>

“God, I want you to absolutely wreck me.”

The bedroom suddenly quieted, its dim lighting beginning to wrap around the walls and furniture of the room to form an uncomfortably suffocating atmosphere. Or maybe Jimin was just projecting his own deteriorating feelings onto the innocent space. He was well aware that his mind shouldn’t have latched onto the words of the innocent woman he currently had pinned to his bed, shouldn’t have started picturing her wishes in his head, yet he couldn’t stop it. He’s never been able to stop it. But that didn’t stop him from trying every time. 

The more he envisioned the actions, the more he could feel those familiar ghostly hands crawl up his spine. His mind grasped at something, anything else to focus on. 

In his desperation, his unsteady gaze dropped to the girl beneath him. She was the epitome of conventionally attractive, with long, light brown hair sprawled around his mattress and dainty facial features. Modelling agencies would probably die for this girl if she gave them a chance. 

But at the moment she was just a distraction. Or at least she had been, until she had opened her mouth. 

The logical part of him tried to remind himself that her words were just that: words. She was just a horny girl expressing her preferences. It made sense, considering what they were about to do. And if anything, Jimin appreciated it when women told him what they wanted. It made his life a lot easier. 

But those particular wishes churned uneasily in his stomach as he felt the hands continue to travel up his spine, finding a cosy spot on his neck. His heartbeat, which had been racing for an entirely different reason, now thumped painfully in his chest as it quickened in pace. 

This can’t be happening right now, he thought with a mixture of frustration and desperation. 

Jimin pushed the impending, but familiar, feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on Emily.

That had clearly been a mistake.

“Like, tie me down. Choke me. Use me like a freaking slut. I swear I haven’t been railed in weeks,” she continued while running her fingers through his hair, completely oblivious to Jimin’s deteriorating state.

The feelings he had shoved aside pounded against his poorly constructed dam, fueled by the implications of Emily’s words. He could feel the ghostly hands press harder against his neck, labouring his breathing in the process. It was a telltale sign of the panic that had become so familiar to him. He knew now that there was no escaping this episode, no matter how hard he tried to steady his breathing and calm his nerves. 

What he needed to do was get out of here. 

“Those are a lot of demands to cover in one morning,” he said with a forced chuckle, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he felt, “give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Before Emily could protest, Jimin slipped off the bed and half stumbled into his bathroom, just barely managing to lock the door.

And just like that, the dam broke. 

Jimin collapsed onto the tiled floor, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs as memories started to flood his mind. They flashed before him like a montage, nightmare after nightmare stealing his ability to breath. At first, he was back in his childhood home, watching his father push his mother down a flight of stairs while screaming at her like a madman. Jimin could feel his heart racing in his chest as he wondered if she was dead. 

But before he could run to her, his memories moved onto the day his father found out his wife had left. Jimin hadn’t even registered the fact that he’d never see his mother again before his father was on him, shouting at him while his hands enclosed around his neck harder. 

Then he was in his old bedroom, watching the bat in his hands crash into his father’s head as he heard a feminine scream. There was blood everywhere, in the room, on his hands. He tried to wipe it off frantically as it burned his skin, but it didn’t matter. The more he wiped off, the more it spread up his arms. 

All he could do was sit helplessly on the floor of the bathroom, head between his knees, as he shook uncontrollably and gasped for air. But the air wouldn’t come. It was like the ghostly hands had finally succeeded in crushing his windpipe and he could no longer fill his lungs. 

Jimin lurched forward suddenly, feeling his heart hammer painfully in his chest. He swore this time was different. 

He swore this time he was going to die. 

His hand slapped desperately against the counter before it made contact with smooth metal. Relieved, his fingers wrapped around it, pulling it upwards until he could hear the faint sounds of water rushing out of the faucet. He tried to aim his attention to the sound of the water spewing out of the tap, listening intently to the way it sputtered out of the circular piece of metal. Then he focused on the water splashing against the smooth marble sink, running against it momentarily before it was swallowed up by the drain. He could hear the water crash against the pipes under his sink as they whisked the water away. 

It took him what felt like hours to really focus on the sound, letting it sooth him as much as it could. Jimin imagined his memories and panic seeping down the drain alongside it, the black plastic pipes guiding them far away from himself and his house. His breathing started getting a little easier with every passing moment as the memories of his father began to seep back into the locked portion of his mind. 

With small pockets of air now able to enter his lungs, Jimin managed to bring his hand down to the floor. He dragged two of his fingers against it in circles, focusing on the cold of the tile seeping into his fingertips and the rough line of grout between them. He inhaled as his finger met one half of the circle, stalling there for a moment, before exhaling as he completed the round. 

When Jimin finally felt himself calm, only the remnants of a few mild tremors left, he let his back drop against the glass side of his walk-in shower with a sigh. A lingering soreness was spreading throughout his chest as he felt his sweat-soaked shirt stick to his back. Although he was more than familiar with episodes like these, he couldn’t help but wonder why this one had been so particularly bad. 

Either way, the “attack” had left him exhausted, to the point that Jimin almost considered skipping school today. It was especially tempting, considering how much Taehyung had been bothering him recently about the therapy and whether it was working. Jimin had to remind him that he had only gone to one session, though he didn’t mention just how much he had hated it. 

But Jimin knew that there were a few concepts he needed to clarify in his first class, so ditching school was out of the question. 

Not to mention, Jimin’s second period had gotten a lot more interesting when the school had decided to transfer him to a different class because of a few scheduling issues. Particularly your presence had intrigued him, because he was so confused as to how he’d never noticed you before. Sure, Jimin had only been attending this school for the past two years, but he still found it hard to believe that the two of you had never crossed paths. He’d have definitely remembered if that were the case. You were, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever met, there was no way he would have overlooked a face like that.

Jimin stretched forward, just barely managing to close the faucet without having to get up from his position on the floor. You were fun to tease, and definitely something during sex. Jimin didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed sex as much as he had with you. 

His gaze dropped as he remembered the bottle that had been clutched in your hand that night at Taehyung’s house. It had been a shock to him that you were using, even though technically he was well aware he didn’t know you at all. He wondered if your addiction stopped at Adderall, or did you do more than just that? He hoped you didn’t, for your sake. 

Jimin had wanted to say something about it when he had dropped you off, encourage you to choose a different path for yourself. But he couldn’t seem to find the right words. He had used them all up when his father was still alive, none of which were successful of course. So instead he had walked away, guilt nibbling away at him with every step. 

“Jimin?”

Jimin’s head snapped towards the door as Emily’s muffled voice passed through it. He had practically forgotten that she was still there, too wrapped up in his panic and then his thoughts to remember that she’d probably been waiting for him to come back to his bed. He knew he couldn’t do it. She clearly wanted things that he just couldn’t give her. The prospect of having to explain some lousy excuse to her suddenly made him exhausted all over again. 

But thankfully Emily spoke up again before he could reply, “look, my first class starts soon and I can’t miss it. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.” 

He could hear the disappointment in her tone before he listened to the sound of her footsteps as she walked out of his bedroom, followed by the sound of his front door shutting quickly. When he was sure she was gone, he stood from his spot and made his way to his bedroom, picking up his phone to confirm the time. Emily wasn’t wrong, his first class was starting soon. He would have to get going as well. 

Jimin walked back to his bathroom, standing in front of the mirror above the sink. His gaze scanned the damp, rust-coloured hair sticking to his forehead, and then the beads of sweat travelling down his neck. He grimaced. First, he needed a shower.

-

-

-

Jiwoo was in a mood. 

You had begun to suspect as much at the end of your first class, when she had kicked your bag while stomping out of the classroom. Although Jiwoo was always pulling stunts like that, she’d usually accompany it with an irritating taunt or mocking expression. But it wasn’t until right before second period, when she had purposely bumped into the open pencil case on your desk to scatter it all over the floor, when you became certain.

Jiwoo was in a mood. 

You watched her drop into her seat near the front of the class with an angry huff, uncharacteristically not even bothering to spare you a fake “oops.” Normal Jiwoo was far from a saint, but god did annoyed Jiwoo unlock a different type of rage in you. Her irritation made you wonder how her parents’ divorce was going. Probably not great, if her mood today was anything to go on. 

With an annoyed sigh, you slipped off your chair and lowered yourself to the floor to focus on collecting your things, trying to calm your raging heartbeat and shaking hands in the process. You weren’t sure whether it was because of Jiwoo or the Ritalin. This was your third day on Ritalin even though you had vowed to never take the stuff again. You didn’t really have much of a choice. There was still no news on Yoongi, which meant you were still out of Adderall. And although Ritalin made you crazy with nerves, it still somehow managed to help you focus on your schoolwork. Not to mention you’d much rather be a jittery mess than the dead zombie that your Adderall crash had reduced you to.

Unfortunately, until you could get your hands on some Adderall, Ritalin was your only option. 

You shoved the last of your supplies into your pencil case, brows furrowing when you noticed that you were missing your eraser. But one scan of the floor showed no sign of the white rubber. 

You checked under your desk and then your chair, wondering where it could have disappeared to.

It wasn’t until a pair of black dress shoes and grey dress pants appeared in your line of sight when you realised where your eraser had gone. 

“Looking for something?” Jimin asked in a teasing tone, holding out your white eraser between the tips of his index and middle fingers. 

Your gaze reluctantly travelled up to his smug face, the feeling of annoyance a natural response to his presence at this point. 

“Stealing my car wasn’t enough? Now you want my eraser too?”

Jimin’s head tilted for a moment before he rested a hand on your desk and leaned forward so that his next words could only be heard by you. 

“Why would I want anything more when I’ve already got you on your knees for me, kitten?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the tempting view of his sharp jawline, before grabbing your pencil case and pushing yourself off of the ground. Leave it to Jimin to turn every instance into an opportunity to flirt. 

“Weren’t you the one that said I had to ask for sex the next time I wanted it? What happened to that?” You asked with a low voice before taking back your eraser. 

“I never said I couldn’t be tempting.”

Then, to your surprise, Jimin dropped into the empty desk beside yours instead of his usual seat behind you. It took you a second to register the sudden change, and then another to eye him weirdly. 

But before you could ask him what he was doing, Mr. Kim walked into the classroom just as the bell rang. The students rushed to their seats to bring out their textbooks, some of the girls swooning over the alleged new shirt he was wearing. You took your seat quickly, sending Jimin a glare in the process. 

Taehyung hurried into the room just after Mr. Kim, slipping unnoticeably past him before dropping into his usual seat. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment when he noticed Jimin wasn’t sitting next to him, and then they furrowed even further when he realised where he was actually sitting. 

“Come on man, what happened to bros before hoes?” He muttered under his breath. You almost laughed at his sulky expression.

Mr. Kim began writing the lesson on the whiteboard, “please turn to page 245.”

You turned to the page alongside the rest of the class as Jimin did the same, distantly noticing your leg bouncing up and down unconsciously. 

Mr. Kim turned back to the class, beginning the lesson by explaining the concepts on the page he had instructed everyone to turn to. He was one of the better teachers, so you were easily able to understand the seemingly complex concepts.  

That was until Jimin started annoying you, just like he had been doing in class for the past few days. It was always small things, like sneakily drawing random doodles in your notebook when you weren’t looking or stealing your pencil every so often. It took everything in you not to throw your eraser at his face. Instead, you dragged your notebook and supplies to the other side of your desk with a huff.

That just made him laugh, one he had to muffle with his hands so Mr. Kim didn’t call him out. 

The class went on like this, a mixture of evading Jimin’s antics while simultaneously trying to understand the lesson being taught by Mr. Kim. You honestly had to applaud the guy for being able to escape Mr. Kim’s gaze for so long. He was notoriously known for being an observant teacher, and because of that you were sure he knew a lot more student secrets than he let on. 

However, Jimin’s antics had to come to an abrupt end when Mr. Kim placed his whiteboard marker down and faced the class, seemingly finished with teaching the lesson. He called up two students, handing them both stacks of papers to hand out to the rest of the class. 

“Your next assignment will consist of a presentation closely resembling a seminar, where each group will be expected to accurately teach the class on an assigned topic,” he explained, characteristically professional and thoughtful with his words, “since the goal of this assignment will be to facilitate understanding, I will be expecting the incorporation of some creative elements in order to keep the presentation engaging in addition to being informative.”

One of the students that had been handing out the mini booklets finally reached you and Jimin, handing the two of you one each before moving onto Taehyung. 

“The booklets in front of you go over the details pertaining to this assignment. Therefore, I expect you all to read through them thoroughly to avoid losing marks over small mistakes.”

Mr. Kim suddenly smiled, “although, with this being your senior year I doubt you all require such a reminder anyway.”

You watched Jiwoo’s hand shoot into the air as you tried to keep Jimin’s hands off your booklet. Mr. Kim nodded towards her before she spoke, “will we get to choose our own groups?”

“No, I will be assigning the groups, as well as the topics,” he replied, earning him a number of whines and groans. But Mr. Kim merely chuckled, amused, but not willing to change his mind. 

He then turned to the first row of students, grouping them in pairs based on their seating. You groaned inwardly when you realised the pattern he was going by and who, in that case, would end up being your partner. 

“Jimin and Y/N,” Mr. Kim grouped, but then paused when he noticed Taehyung sitting without the deskmate, “and Taehyung.”

“Mr. Kim,” Jiwoo said once again, but this time you rolled your eyes knowing what she was going to bring up, “isn’t it unfair that one group has three students? That will lessen their workload compared to everyone else!”

You noticed Jiwoo send you a mocking smile for a moment, clearly trying to incite you.

Witch. 

“You may rest assured, Ms. Kim. I will ensure everything is as fair as possible,” he reassured with a small smile. But Jiwoo just slid down in her seat, annoyed that her plan to make your life harder had pretty much failed. 

You wished she turned around so you could send her your fakest smile. On one hand was Jiwoo, the most annoying witch in existence, and then on another hand was Jimin, the most annoying jerk in existence. 

What has your life come to?

When the bell finally rang and Mr. Kim dismissed the class, you crumpled one of your rough pieces of paper and threw it at Jimin’s face with a glare. 

It wasn’t much, but boy did it make you feel better. 

“What was that for?” He asked, failing miserably at stifling a laugh. 

“You know what.”

Ignoring Jimin’s amused glance, you packed your bag as your classmates began to chat with each other and started making their way to the cafeteria. You wouldn’t be heading there, though, since you usually spent your breaks in the library studying. It just felt better to get all your work out of the way so you could go home and just sleep for hours. 

You walked out of the classroom, thankful that you could finally get away from the annoying thing known as Park Jimin, and then began walking to the library. The hallways were full of students relaxing and playing around with each other, making you think of Namjoon. He was away on some trip for a maths competition. Or maybe it was for a science competition? Either way, he was off doing his nerd stuff, so you couldn’t invite him to hang out after you finished studying. 

You made it to the library’s front desk, sending a smile to the main librarian who returned it sweetly. 

“Hello, have the study room schedules been made yet?” You asked. 

She answered your question with a nod and, after giving her your name, she began searching the computer for your schedule.  

Since the demand for the very limited number of study rooms in the library was so high, the school had decided to come up with a schedule system for the students that wished to use them, because a first come, first serve approach would be much too “barbaric” for a private school of course. Each student was given a schedule for which study room they were assigned to and when they could use it. 

“Hi, can I get my study schedule please?” A voice asked, “my name is Park Jimin.”

Your gaze snapped to your side, finding Jimin standing right next to you. 

Seriously?

“So you’ve resorted to stalking me now?” You asked, causing Jimin to turn to you with a surprised expression. 

When his gaze fell on you, he grinned. 

“How come I’m the stalker? You could very well be the one stalking me,” he said. 

Before you could reply, the librarian walked back to her desk and handed you and Jimin your printed schedules. The two of you thanked her before walking over to the library’s elevator while looking them over. 

Thankfully, you were scheduled for a study room on Wednesdays during break, so you didn’t have to find somewhere else to study at the moment. 

You eyed Jimin when he followed you into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button to the floor you were also going to. The two of you seemed to be finding yourselves in each other’s presence a lot lately. It made you groan inwardly, knowing that the semester had only just begun.

It was like having a second Jiwoo since you and her were usually thrown together a lot due to your familial ties, but at least Jimin didn’t kick your bag or slap your pencil case to the ground. That earned him at least a few more points in your book.

The book’s name? “The Most Annoying People in Kim Y/N’s Life,” of course.

The elevator door dinged as it revealed the hallway of the second floor. Jimin walked out of it first, unfortunately taking a right into the hallway, which was the same way you were going. 

You followed him reluctantly.

“Who’s following who now, kitten?” He said with a smirk, an eyebrow raised at you. 

You simply huffed, “shut up.”

You didn’t bother to come up with a better comeback. All you had to do was make it to your study room, then you could finally get rid of him. This day had been filled with way too much Jimin, and you were actually looking forward to doing homework in a nice and quiet room over having to deal with his annoying butt. 

Jimin continued through the hallway until he stopped in front of the door to the farthest study room from the elevator. The action made your eyes widen.

“No,” you denied immediately, stomping over to him before grabbing his schedule from his hand, “no way. There’s no way.”

Your mouth fell open as you took in his schedule, almost exactly identical to your own. The only day in which your and Jimin’s schedules didn’t align was Monday. Only one out of the five days of school in a week would you be free of him. No way. There was no way this was possible. Of all the insane things…

While you were distracted, a confused Jimin took your own schedule from your hands, looking over it curiously. It only took him a second to figure out what your issue was, but when he did, he couldn’t help himself. 

Jimin burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny,” you whined, smacking the paper against his head. That only made him laugh harder as he fell to the floor with a hand clutching his stomach. 

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” Jimin managed through his laughter. 

You rolled your eyes, choosing instead to walk past him into the room. Fine, if you were going to be stuck with him, then you were just going to have to ignore his presence completely. It was the only ray of hope in your seemingly continuous misery. 

You dropped into a seat at the large table, spreading your work out as you opened your laptop and began typing furiously against the innocent keys. 

After a few minutes Jimin walked into the room, closing it behind him before he thankfully dropped into a chair away from yours and brought out his own work. You risked a glance upwards, catching a smirk on his lips that made your blood boil. 

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen after that. 

You expected him to annoy you the same way he had during your second period class by stealing your pencils or throwing a paper plane at you, but instead he remained focused on his work for a full half an hour straight. That came as a surprise to you because you honestly hadn’t been expecting him to be very studious. Maybe it was because he had annoyed you during class. Or maybe it was because you had unintentionally believed in the stereotype against guys that slept around. Either way, it was surprising when you managed to get through half an hour worth of work without any disturbances. 

After half an hour, though, Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms behind him. He’d taken off his blazer, so you could see the defined lines of his muscles stretch under his dress shirt. Your straying gaze quickly shot back to your screen, but not before Jimin had noticed your curious eyes. He smirked. 

You were able to work for a few more minutes before Jimin suddenly leaned forward, eyeing you curiously. 

“So,” he said, causing you to turn your head towards him questionably, “how did your dad end up reacting?”

 You furrowed your eyebrows, “what?”

“After the party, when you came home after midnight. I’m surprised he wasn’t already standing on the porch with a shotgun ready.”

You snorted, unable to imagine your dad doing that, “my dad’s not like that.”

“Oh, so he was cool with it and everything?” He asked. 

You shifted in your seat, “no… I mean, I don’t know. He wasn’t home that night.”

Jimin nodded, “business trip?”

“Kind of. He’s a truck driver,” you explained, a little weirded out by the suddenly normal conversation but still appreciating the unexpected break from your work, “he’s usually only home on weekends. Otherwise he’s out driving across the country.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, “so he leaves you alone during the entire week? And sometimes he doesn’t even come back on the weekends?”

You shrugged, finding it odd how surprised Jimin looked, “yeah? I’m not a kid, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the table in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. But you noticed a slight scowl in his features. 

Weird. 

You shifted to face Jimin, a question coming to mind, “but why are you only asking about my dad?”

Jimin didn’t look up from the table, “I heard what that girl said about your mom last Friday… I just kind of assumed…”

The room quieted into what felt like an awkward silence. You had the feeling that something you said had cut the surprisingly normal conversation short, but there was nothing you said that could have offended him so you didn’t really understand why that was. 

You turned back to your work, brushing against the touchpad to light up your laptop’s screen once again. After sending one final curious glance at Jimin, you went back to your work. 

But Jimin was clearly lost in thought. 

-

-

-

The first thing Jimin noticed when he walked into the room was Lauren, who was sitting on one of the beige sofas situated next to the glass coffee table. She had been looking down at the binder she had shown him in their last session, reading over something intently before the sound of the door opening had her looking upwards and then smiling. 

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted, to which he gave her a curt nod. 

Thankfully, Lauren had already situated herself on the sofa facing away from the door, allowing Jimin to sit on the one that gave him a view of both the entrance and the window at the same time. Even in his sour mood, he was able to appreciate the gesture. 

He knew Lauren was studying him, taking in his sudden attitude, but to his surprise she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she closed the binder and placed it beside her on the sofa, bringing a much thinner notebook onto her lap in its place.

“Did you complete the Impact Statement worksheet I assigned in the last session?” She asked, to which Jimin nodded. 

He had avoided starting it until the last minute, something he knew Lauren wouldn’t approve of considering she had given him that big speech about avoidance and how it wasn’t helping him. He just couldn’t help it, he’d spent years trying to rid his mind of that night’s memories. Anything that reminded him of it was discarded, any person that reminded him of it was avoided. Even the house had been sold the second it was passed down to him. So doing this Impact Statement? Something that would not only remind him about it, but make him think about it to a deeper extent… it had been hard. 

“Could you read your Impact Statement out loud?”

Jimin’s eyebrows pulled together at the random request, confused as to why that was necessary. He wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, where they would make his class take turns reading various children’s books to each other. 

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the request. But he couldn’t make a fuss about it. He needed to give this therapy thing a genuine try, especially considering the enormous attack he had this morning. 

Jimin brought out the statement from his school bag, unfolding it slowly. He cleared his throat before finally following along the hastily written words. 

“This traumatic experience happened because I was stupid and did something horrible. I knew that my father wasn’t himself, I knew that he was under the influence, and yet I still ended up murdering him, my own father, like some kind of psychopath. Saying that that makes me a horrible person feels like an understatement, because being a killer is one thing, but being able to kill your family? That must make me even worse than a murderer. I feel like I don’t deserve anything good because of it. If anything, the world should bring me my karma and just end it already. I think that sometimes… that because of what I did, someone is just silently watching me and waiting for the right moment to get back at me. I feel like I’m never safe, like I constantly have to be on guard whenever I’m out. I feel like people should think the same about me too, they shouldn’t trust me either. My past is evidence enough that I might just lose it and hurt someone. I would hate to do that to Taehyung especially, the only person that’s genuinely been there for me. But anyways, the gist of it is that I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I feel unsafe all the time, especially when I’m around other men. Sometimes when I’m out I can imagine every grown man that looks my way hates me the same way my dad did, and that they’d go after me the first chance they got. I don’t want to get close to people because I feel like if I build any kind of genuine relationship, I’ll end up hurting them. That’s why I don’t think Taehyung should have a friend like me, that he deserves better. I don’t know how to make things better. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.”

The room fell quiet as Jimin set the paper down on the coffee table, wanting it away from him immediately. He was relieved that he was finally done with this assignment, though he hadn’t noticed how much he had ended up writing despite the limited amount of time he had to complete the worksheet. 

“What did it feel like to write and then read the Impact Statement aloud?” Lauren asked, an expression of complete neutrality. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that she wasn’t disgusted by him. 

Or at least she wasn’t showing it. 

“It was hard,” Jimin admitted, gaze travelling everywhere but her, “honestly I didn’t start the worksheet until just an hour before I came here.”

Lauren surprisingly nodded, “the good thing is that you completed it nonetheless. It is difficult work, Jimin, and you were able to get through it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“But I should remind you that avoidance only helps in maintaining PTSD symptoms, right?”

Jimin nodded. 

“How do you feel after reading the Impact Statement?” She asked. 

“A little less anxious,” Jimin replied, though it was more the fact that he was relieved it was over than anything else. Whether his improved feelings were because the Impact Statement had actually helped or because of the relief he felt from it being over, there was no doubt that he felt better now compared to the anxiety he had been feeling when walking into this room. 

“If doing the assignment in this way made you a little less anxious, then I wonder what it would have been like to have completed the assignment earlier in the week?” Lauren wondered out loud, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. She was clearly keen on changing the topic. 

“Now, earlier it seemed that you might have been upset about something. Could you explain to me why that was?”

“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, shaking his head as he leaned back against the sofa. But he could feel his blood begin to boil once again, his thoughts from earlier apparently the flame. His anger simmered to the surface and, before he knew it, he was blurting everything out. 

“It’s just… I was talking to this classmate of mine earlier today, just a normal conversation, and she told me something about her dad that kind of pissed me off.”

Lauren tilted her head, “can you tell me what she told you that made you so angry?”

Your words from earlier filled his mind once again, bringing the anger along with them. He had been furious throughout the rest of the school day, and all throughout the ride here, with your words and their implications repeating over and over in his head.

Jimin suddenly stood up and walked over to the window, his anger making him want to move around. 

“The thing is, she’s actually this girl I hooked up with at a party last Friday,” he started to explain, not realising that he had begun pacing around, “I’d ended up taking her home that night because she didn’t really seem like she could get there on her own, so I just casually asked her about how her dad had reacted to her getting home so late. She started telling me about how her dad hadn’t been home that night because he’s a truck driver. In fact, she said that he usually wasn’t home at all throughout the week, and sometimes he didn’t even come back on the weekends that he’s supposed to.”

Jimin spun around towards Lauren, who had shifted so that she was still facing him, “can you believe that? What kind of father would leave their kid alone for weeks at a time? And does he even know what his own daughter has been doing in his absence? She uses, you know. I bet he has no clue.”

“But of course he doesn’t,” Jimin scoffed, “just one of the millions of examples of a grown man being absolutely useless and incompetent as a father.”

He turned to look outside once again, trying to focus on anything that could calm down his racing heart. 

“Do you feel that way about your own father?” He heard Lauren ask from behind him. 

“Obviously. He beat my mom, and then he beat me. That didn’t exactly make him father slash husband of the year. Nothing could justify his actions,” Jimin reasoned. 

“Do you feel that your actions that night also can’t be justified?”

He paused, the question catching him off guard. Slowly, Jimin faced Lauren once again, “well yes, I’m not different from him. If anything I’m worse. He beat people. I murdered him.”

Lauren’s gaze bored into him in an almost unnerving way before she spoke, “‘murder.’ That’s a strong word.”

“It’s appropriate in this context.” 

“From what you’ve told me, it seems like you killed your father after he had begun to hurt your girlfriend-”

“Ex,” Jimin said, his gaze not meeting hers, “ex girlfriend.”

“Ex girlfriend,” Lauren corrected, “your actions occurred in a very specific place and time, and under certain circumstances.”

“Yeah, but he still died. And I’m the one that killed him.”

“Yes, he died, and it seems, at least in part, because of your actions. Does that make you a murderer?”

“Yes,�� Jimin answered straight away, not comprehending what was so hard to understand, “I took a bat to his head, and then he died. That’s murder. And that’s worse than anything he had ever done to me.”

“Really? You think it’s worse?” Lauren asked, her voice suddenly quieter. For the first time since these sessions started, Jimin thought he might have caught a little sadness in her expression. But the moment he caught it the expression disappeared, tucked back under that blanket of neutrality that he had become so used to. Distantly, he wondered if he had imagined it or not. 

“On one hand, people were hurt. On the other hand, someone was killed. Obviously both situations aren’t good since people were hurt either way. But I killed him, he didn’t kill anyone.”

“It is true that the outcomes are different,” Lauren agreed, “but it’s the context that I wonder about.”

Jimin’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“Do you think what the intention was in those situations matters, regardless of the outcome?”

“No,” Jimin replied firmly, pulling back on the frustration in his tone,“in one case someone was killed. In another, no one was killed.”

Lauren paused for a moment, seemingly studying him with her characteristically neutral expression. When nothing was said for a few seconds, she clasped her fingers together before resting them over her lap professionally, “while it is true that your father died, and that your actions played a role in it, I think we might slightly disagree on the definition of the term ‘murder.’ It is apparent that his death has been a very difficult thing for you to accept, and that you are trying to make sense of that. From what you’ve told me, the sense that you appear to have made of his death is that you are a ‘murderer.’ I believe this is a good example of one of the stuck points that seem to have prevented you from recovering from this traumatic event. We’ll definitely be spending more time together on understanding your part in his death.”

Lauren then began to explain something about how important it was to be able to identify and label his emotions and thoughts, but Jimin’s thoughts were too stuck on her earlier words to pay any attention. He wondered about how intentions might or might not matter in the context of whether a death is considered a murder or not. When a person participates in an action that ends up with another person dead, he was pretty sure that classified the situation as a murder. He couldn’t really understand where the nuances existed in a situation like this. 

But then again, Lauren’s suggestion hadn’t been too crazy of a thought either. If a person didn’t intend to kill the other, then would it still be considered a murder?

Had he intended to kill his father that night? Jimin wanted to say no and deny such a thing, because he really hadn’t wanted to do that. But he had taken a wooden baseball bat straight to his father’s skull, what other outcome had Jimin been expecting? Maybe intention did matter in general, but in Jimin’s case he concluded it made no difference. 

“How do you feel about the death of your father?” Lauren asked randomly, catching Jimin’s straying attention. He had no clue what the context behind the question was since his thoughts had been elsewhere while she had been explaining it, which had caught him off guard.

“Um,” Jimin paused, having to think about it for a moment, “I know he did horrible things to me, like I’m aware his actions were wrong, but… a part of me felt a little saddened by his death. Maybe not because of losing him as a person, but losing him meant that I had lost the last of my family. It does make me feel sad when I think about it.”

Lauren nodded encouragingly, “and that is a completely natural reaction to have when you feel that you’ve lost something. It’s good to feel that sadness and let it run its course.”

Jimin let a breathy chuckle escape his lips, though there was no humour behind it, “feeling sad isn’t exactly something I enjoy- actually I prefer to avoid feeling anything at all. It’s just easier that way.”

Lauren crossed her leg over the other, continuing to focus on Jimin as she brought her clasped hand over her lap once again, “have you ever allowed yourself to feel sad?”

He shook his head, explaining that he’s always preferred avoiding anything and everything that had to do with intense feelings like that. Even the frustration he had shown earlier was a generally rare occurrence. 

“Then if you’ve never allowed yourself to feel your emotions, how do you know that it would be easier not to feel them?”

Jimin was silent, processing the logic behind her words once again. He was starting to realise that therapy was a lot more logical than what he had initially thought.

“From what you’ve told me, avoiding your feelings hasn’t helped you very much so far. Maybe allowing yourself to feel the natural feelings associated with the traumatic event may help you recover from what happened?”

“Maybe…” He relented, knowing that her reasoning made sense to him. 

But Jimin still couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of feeling his emotions. He didn’t even know if he’d ever truly felt them before. With a father that had been beating him for as long as he could remember, it really had just become easier to numb himself to the pain. He was scared of revisiting that pain, he realised. The pain that he’d been trying to run away from his whole life.

Lauren opened her binder to bring out a few sheets that were similar to the Impact Statement worksheet she had given him in their last session, except they clearly had a different purpose. She called them “A-B-C” Sheets, which again reminded Jimin of kindergarten, and explained how to go about completing them properly. She also explained how they were meant to help him begin to identify the things he was telling himself and his subsequent emotions before they had exchanged pleasantries and Jimin had walked out of the room.

Unlike the last session, where he had rushed through the door at light speed, Jimin took his time walking through the hallways and out of the building. This time his mind was filled with questions of murder and intention. He thought about feeling his feelings, and how long it had been since he had lost the ability to do so. He thought about you and your dad. He thought about everything.  

There was just so much to think about. 

So much to think about indeed.  

[haikyuufanficwriting]

Chapter 8: Ushijima

Prompt: Reader falls asleep on Character’s shoulder Character: Ushijima _________________

Since starting your third year at Shiratorizawa Academy, you can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten a proper amount of sleep.

Much less sleep in general.

Being in such a prestigious school, of course the workload would be bigger than any average high school. You just didn’t expect to be struggling this hard.

Back in middle school, you remember being levels above your peers. Maybe it was the hours your parents spent drilling you at home, or just natural talent, but you’re pretty confident that your reputation half brought you here.

But as you would learn, reputation and talent could only take you so far.

With your house being way too far to walk or bus, your parents allowed you to stay in one of the schools many dorms. While you were ecstatic about your new freedom, it did have some pitfalls.

Pitfalls being that your study habits were only enforced by your parents. So as any normal teenager would, you started to become lazy. And your grades began to slip.

Fortunately for you, there was rule where students had to obtain a certain average by the end of the year, or they would be kicked. That rule definitely blew some smoke up your ass, because during your first and second year, you did your absolute best to keep above that average. Which you did. Fairly well, too.

But entering your third and final year, you were just so tired. All of the motivation and strength seemed to vanish the harder your classes became. You couldn’t understand your subjects, which lead the unhealthy habit of pulling all nighters, trying to grasp the material on your own.

Eventually, your sleeping schedule had become so messed up that you were only powering on coffee and instant noodles just to get through the school day. And like a deadly cycle, certain classes and concepts were harder to comprehend the longer your brain was starved of sleep.  

One example being. Advanced Functions.

For the life of you, you just couldn’t seem to understand anything in that class. No matter how hard you tried to concentrate, tried to focus, it was always in one ear out the other. The textbook seemed so convoluted that it only managed to confuse you further, so studying on your own was a no go.

Needless to say, you weren’t even close to passing this class, and final exams were coming soon. You absolutely needed to do well in this, or else you’d get a letter sent home to your parents, and you can’t even imagine what they’d do to you.

Thankfully, your teacher had the same thought. After class ended, he called you over to his desk.

“I’ve asked a student in this class if they’d be willing to tutor you. I haven’t told them anything about your grades, just that you need some help. They’re available to work with you on Tuesdays in the library. Will that be alright with you?” You manage to keep your face passive and devoid of any emotion. Honestly, you weren’t exactly keen to be tutored, but with your grades this low, you’re really don’t have any other choice other than to throw away your pride and bite the bullet.

“Yes, thank you Sensei, that would be perfect.” You bow and make your exit, having your respectful smile drop the second your face is out of view. You sigh heavily as you made your way to your dorm.

You just hope whoever’s tutoring you can help make sense of this nonsense.

~~

Ushijima was a busy man. Key word was. After losing to Karasuno, the time he needed spend in the gym was significantly less than before. Of course, he went to the gym to practice regularly anyways, working on anything and everything to improve. But, after the coach found out, he told Ushijima to relax and take a break, claiming that he should take this time to rest and relax. Just for a couple weeks, and to take time focusing on his studies.

The only problem was, he didn’t need to focus on his studies. Or relax. He already had highest marks in most of his classes, and stress had never been an issue for him. While most ordinary students could study everything under two hours, he could. While most couldn’t function with five or less hours of sleep, he did. Ushijima had gotten so used to his hectic timetable, that having a huge chunk of it missing was extremely odd to him. Like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“This is your time to find a hobby, Wakatoshi-kun.” Tendou had told him, to which he only tilted his head in confusion.

“But I do have a-”

“One that isn’t volleyball.” That made him pause. A hobby… That wasn’t volleyball?

Was there really anything?

If there was, he couldn’t think of one.

“How do I find a hobby?” He asks, causing Tendou to hum.

“You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.” Ushijima nods, absorbing the advice. It was good advice, but it did bring up an important question.

What’s one thing he could try?

That stuck with him, circling his head for the rest of the day. There seemed to be too many and none all at once. Even if he did find some that seemed interesting, which would he do first? Could he do multiple at once to become more efficient? What if he liked a new hobby but had to stop due to his schedule becoming normal again? If that’s a possibility, what was even the point of trying to find something new?

Ushijima was close to exploding with all the questions that he couldn’t answer and was about to call Tendou again for help, at least until his advanced functions teacher called him to his desk.

“Ushijima-kun, I need your help with something. There’s a student in this class, (Name), who needs a little help understanding the material. Since your season is over and you’re fairly good at the subject, do you think you could help her out?”

As if the gods heard his cries for help, an opportunity had dropped on his lap. But did tutoring count as a hobby? It seemed like a commitment too…

‘You gotta try different things out. See if you like it or not.’ Tendou’s words ring in Ushijima’s head. Well, if he had to try different things out, this seemed like a good start. With the thought being the final push, he agrees with a solemn nod.

“I don’t have a problem with it.”

~~

You jerk awake from the bell ringing loudly in your ear. You confusedly look around to see students getting up and collecting their items around you, signaling in your brain that you must’ve fallen asleep in class again, and you slept through yet another lecture.

Guess I’ll be staying up late again…

You yawn, standing and picking up your bag before making your way out of the class, about to go the cafeteria, at least until you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket.

Was someone calling you?

Confused, you pull it out to hear a soft alarm and text across your screen in dark bold letters reading ‘Tutoring today at the library!’ causing your eyes to widen. You had completely forgotten about it! You let out a slur of curses as you rush up the stairs to the library, hoping that you didn’t make your tutor wait too long.

Practically slamming the library door open, you speed walk to the study area of the library, searching the students that littered the desks, seeing if you recognized anyone from your class. You stand there for a couple minutes longer than necessary, with your extremely heavy eyelids making it considerably difficult to scan peoples faces, but after not seeing anyone at first glance, you start to walk around the area. You don’t know how much time passes until someone calls out to you.

“(Name)-san.” The deep voice makes you jump far harder than it should’ve, with you almost dropping your school bag. You collect yourself as fast as you could and turn your head to the sound, finding none other than the star of the school.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Your brain blanks as you continue to stare at him, your mind too tired and too shocked to put together sentences. After a couple minutes of silence, he tilts his head, clearly waiting for your response. That manages to kick your brain into gear.

“Wakatoshi-san.” Your voice is meek, and your face flushes at how stupid you sound. If Ushijima sees your cringe, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I’m glad I found you. I thought for a moment you had forgotten about our session.” His comment confirms your suspicions, but it only manages to disorientate you further.

You just never would’ve assumed that the Ushiwaka, the ace and captain of this powerhouse school, was wasting his time tutoring you. You mean, you’re not entirely surprised he was picked to help, he was one of the smartest in your class, (You’re fairly certain he’s a robot, how could someone be so good at everything?) but you just thought he would be way too busy to help anyone.

You also thought with his personality he wouldn’t want to help anybody. Honestly, you’re just confused as to why he even agreed to help you at all. Maybe to put it on his resume?

You don’t know, you assumed that being a prodigy in sport was enough, but you digress.

“Come, I’ve already set up a table.” He motions you to follow him, and with a soft ‘alright’, you follow him to a more secluded part of the study area, with a single desk surrounded by bookshelves, each stocked to the brim with dusty old books. On the desk was you assume his study books and utensils neatly organised. Of course he was a neat freak.

You sit in the chair just across from his, feeling your body almost go limp in exhaustion the second you sit down. You wait until he settles himself and opens one of his books. Your brain once more begins to fail you as you stupidly watch him flip through pages, basically falling asleep with your eyes open. You don’t even realize until you hear a sharp knock on the table.

“(Name)-san?” The voice suddenly comes into focus and you snap up. “Y-yes?”

“Aren’t you going to pull out your books?” Ushijima asks, face stoic as ever. You stutter out a slightly slurred reply as you open your school bag and search for your books.

Only to not find your math books, but your biology books. You scrunch your nose in confusion. It takes your brain a couple of seconds to realize what you did.

You switched your books on accident.

Oh, how badly you want to curl up and cry right now.

Not only was it embarrassing to have one the most popular boys in school tutor you, but to also act like a total ditz was almost too much for you to take. It’s almost like the gods want to mess with you for shits and giggles at this point.

You have to slowly put your bag down, and look back to your tutor, who’s been staring at you for the past few minutes now.

“Wakatoshi-san, I just realized I brought the wrong books by accident. I’m sorry but I’ll have to go back to my dorms to get the right ones.” You give him what you hope is an apologetic smile and begin to stand up, until his voices rings in your ear once more.

“That’s not necessary.” You pause.

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve already wasted enough time as it is. I have no problem sharing my books for this session.” With that he pulls out the chair right next to him and offers the seat.

You’re pretty sure almost every girl would kill to be in your position right now. You can’t stop the blush that forms on your tired face.

“Oh-uh… ah, thank y-you.” You finally managed to get out, wanting to slap yourself subconsciously as you take the seat next to him. The second you sit down; your overworked brain is hit by so many things at once.

He smells nice. Like really nice. You definitely wouldn’t mind curling up to that. Not to mention, his warmth.

You can feel the warmth coming off him in waves.

Sleeping next to that would be so comforting…

You’re snapped out of your thoughts again when you hear a textbook being slid over to you. If you were a little more awake then you are now, you would realize how intimate this was. Sharing a book caused you to be a lot closer than necessary, but of course with you being sleep deprived and Ushijima being Ushijima, neither of you commented.

“So, what are you having troubles in?” He asked, and you go to answer, only to be met with emptiness.

You were so confused; you didn’t even know what you were confused about. You mentally kick yourself. That’s a new low.

Of course, not wanting the captain to know how much a dumbass you were, you responded, “The first couple chapters really messed with me.” Which isn’t a lie, you just didn’t mention the rest of the chapters that messed you up as well. He nods and goes to the beginning. Then begins to explain the main concepts of the chapters.

“A polynomial function has specific characteristics that define them from another other kind of function. With those characteristics being a domain of real numbers, a possibility of the range being restricted by both upper and lower bounds, and these functions do not have horizontal…”

You hear his words turn into nothing but mixed sounds as he continued to explain. As much as you tried to focus, you feel your eyelids becoming impossible heavy. You were trying, you really were, even pinching yourself ever once in a while and biting the inside of your mouth as hard as possible, but with Ushijima’s voice this low and soothing, you were fighting a losing battle. You didn’t expect that when he wasn’t scaring you out of sleep, that his voice was actually extremely nice to listen too.

Not to mention his unexpected but totally welcomed comforting aura, his warmth, his smell and the quiet atmosphere, they were all begging you to let go and leave the realm of the conscious. While you were too busy fighting the war, Ushijima was too focused on the book and pointing out examples that he didn’t even realize.

You only manage to last a couple more minutes, until you see nothing but long awaited black.

~~

“…Then there’s quartic, quintic, so on and so forth. There are polynomials bigger than these, but the likely not to appear on the exam so we don’t have to cover them. Between these main five functions there are subdivision that we can also use to characterize them, for example-” Ushijima is cut off by a warm pressure falling on his arm. He turns confused to find you, positively knocked out and now using his arm as a pillow. His thought process is cut off.

Well this is… a development.

Ushijima figured you were tired. In fact, he had known for a long time, that you weren’t getting the sleep you needed. Just a quick glance in class, or talking to you, your slurred speech and heavy eyes, made it easy for anybody to figure out. However, he didn’t think it was to the point of passing out anywhere and everywhere.

He’d be impressed if he wasn’t inherently worried.

He been around people who were sleep deprived, previous senpais and enthusiastic kouhai’s who couldn’t get enough of volleyball, and it does terrible things to brain. Once it had been the point of someone ending up in the hospital.

Ushijima watched you with worried thoughts swirling his mind, as you had a look of absolute comfort on your face, even sleepily nuzzling your face into his arm, which caused him to stare at you a couple seconds above normalcy.

His slightly weird stare was cut off by the bell, which did put his thoughts back into gear. What was he supposed to do? Wake you? Call a teacher?

Well, one things for sure, he couldn’t just leave you here.

So, seeing this as the best course of action, he attempted to wake you.

“…(Name)-san…” He said gently, nudging you with the arm you were sleeping on, you made some sounds of discomfort, before rubbing you nose into his arm again and falling back to sleep.

It was almost cute. Almost.

“(Name)-san.” Ushijima says with a little more finality, which does cause you stir a little more, even causing you to open your eyes a little, but he could tell you were far from awake.

“She’ll be right with you.” You breathe out, which does make Ushijima lips quirk up the tiniest bit.

“(Name)-san, you have to wake up.” He’s reached his regular loudness now, hoping that he wouldn’t have to raise it higher to get you to wake. Thankfully, you manage to open your eyes fully, but is was safe to say that you weren’t completely conscious. You were almost like in a drunken state, with your pupils blown wide and the dazed expression you wore. Looking at you, Ushijima then decided what he needed to do. He couldn’t possibly let you go to class like this, not when you needed something so vital to the brain.

He grabs you by the shoulders to bring your head off him, making sure you don’t wobble too much. Once he’s sure you won’t bang your head on the table, he gets up and starts to collect your things.

“Hm? Is the session over?” You slur, eyes have lidded as you watch him pick up your bag.

“Yes.”

“Did I do well?” You ask with a tired smile, clearly not remembering what happened. Or what didn’t happen. For reasons even he didn’t know, Ushijima decides to humor you.

“Yes.” You raise your arms in the air in happiness, letting out an excited ‘yay!’ in a shushed voice, which Ushijima is extremely grateful for, as he didn’t want to cause a ruckus in the library.

He turns back to you. “Can you stand?” His question turns your mood for some reason, and you huff like a child. “’Course I can stand! Who d’you take me for?” And very quickly, as if to prove your point, you stand from your seat, only for your mind to spin and knees to wobble. Out of reflex to stop you from falling, Ushijima grabs your waist to steady you.

You two stand like that for a while, with your bodies a lot closer than they should’ve been. After what felt like an eternity, you break out into a goofy yet proud smile.

“See? Told ya I could stand.” Ushijima face is passive at best and remains silent. Only giving you a nod while he grabs his stuff along with yours as you two make it out of the library. He holds onto your waist to make sure you don’t fall when walking, but when he secures that you can walk, albeit a little slow, he still doesn’t let go. Walking through the halls and out to the dorms you both we’re met with a lot of stares. And whispers.

Not that either of you noticed.

After he’s exited the school and begins to walk to the girl’s dorms.

“What is your dorm number?” Ushijima asks, for you to snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Uhhh… red… I think…” He looks at you, visibly confused.

“What?” You look at him back, clearly trying to think through the mess that was your brain.

“Wait… What did you ask me?” Ushijima has to keep in a sigh.

“Your dorm number.”

“Oh… That’s… Uhh… four…thirty-one.” You say.

“(Name)-san, there’s only two floors.” You two now stand in the front of the girls’ dorms, and since it was lunch hour, the likelihood that someone would be there, was considerably low, which did save Ushijima the explanation. You try to articulate a proper answer, but your brain this melted, Ushijima didn’t really have high hopes. So instead, he let go of you for a second, to read the names on the lists of the many mailboxes that littered the entrance hall. After a couple minutes, he found your name.

“208.” He says. Not even close. He watches the look of realization appear on your face.

“Ohhh, yeah that’s right!” He doesn’t hold back the sigh this time, grabbing your hand, and bringing you up to your dorm. Surprisingly, the dorm is unlocked, but you must’ve forgotten to lock it this morning when you left. He opens it and leads you in. You just follow in after him and just stare, clearly not knowing what to do.

Ushijima drops your things on your desk and takes you and sits you on your lower bunk bed.

“You should stay here and rest. You don’t have to worry about your next class, I’ll go and tell your teacher that you’re not feeling well.” He tells you, but like before, you just stare at him, telling him its just going in one ear and out the other. Out of the corner of his eye, he’s spots a random notepad and pencil. Ushijima turns away from you and takes the notepad and pencil.

“I’ll just write this down for you, so you can read it when you are in a correct state of mind. I hope you can learn to have a proper sleep schedule, it’s extremely vital to your health and not sleeping is actually- ” When he turns to you again to place the note, he finds you just as before. Knocked out on your bed, not even lifting your legs from the ground.

Ushijima watches you again for more than he cared to admit, before taking his stuff and leaving your room.

And to think he just wanted to try something new…

~~

You slowly open your eyes, to find yourself on your bed and still in uniform. You sit up, confusion hitting you hard.

How did I get here? What day is it? What time is it? How long did I sleep for?

You started panicking a little, at least until you spot a piece of folded paper on your nightstand. Curious, you open it.

(Name)-san, you fell asleep during our session, and I didn’t feel it was acceptable to leave you, so I brought you back to your dorm. I told your teachers that you weren’t feeling well, so please feel free to relax and rest. I strongly recommend that you get a proper sleep schedule, as what you are doing is dangerous.

We’ll continue our tutoring next Tuesday, hopefully you should feel better by then.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

You might just have cardiac arrest.

[zappedbyzabka]

Daniel isn’t fond of the way it sounds as if the whole building were buzzing at night when he needed to rest.

It’d been weeks since he’d had a good night’s rest, something that only exasperated his issues more, but it didn’t keep his mother up even a bit. What a great envy.

The bonsai shop was a dead duck. The entire idea had done nothing but bleed away his money, and bring constant sighs from his mom and Ali.

The airy sound of it plays in his head and makes him grit his teeth.

They can never just give him some peace, always inadvertently reminding him of how naive his decision to start a shop was and trying to solve his problems for him like he were a child.

Is it not apparent that he’s already realized his mistake and suffers for it?

He finds himself avoiding them more than anyone, only adding guilt to the sludge of negative emotions feasting away at all his motivation and energy. He knows they mean well, that they are right and only want to help him, haven’t done anything wrong, but at times he feels close to stuffing all his belongings in his car and changing his name, driving somewhere far away where it snows in the winter.

Leaving everything and restarting.

He grunts, close to slapping himself for daring to imagine such a thing.

Then the bed dips, and he evens out his breathing quickly, hoping to avoid another argument with Ali. She was probably with her “friend”.

He hadn’t even heard the door open.

She rests her head on his shoulder, adorning a new perfume he found especially pleasant. Something subtle and benzoin with an undertone akin to one of the chewable vitamins his mother used to make him take, but he can’t recall the exact one.

She pokes his ribs like an ‘I know you’re awake’, smiling against his collarbone.

Things used to be so good between them.

He turns his head to feel her forehead on his chin, petting the top of her head to savor the feel of her silky hair against his palm.

He gives up the act, hungry to feel her affection comfort his woes. “Hey, doll. Long day? I missed ya’.”

She nods faintly, kissing feathery up his neck. He chuckles, opening his eyes only to stare into the pitch-black of his room, but he doesn’t mind it: it’s peaceful.

“You seem happy to see me,” he comments, fighting the urge to tack on “that’s rare lately.”

He doesn’t want to be that kind of boyfriend. Not when he’s the reason things have been tense.

He touches the corner of her lips to see if she’s still smiling for him, and the words disappear from his mind anyway at the sensation of Ali’s hot mouth enveloping his fingers swiftly like a fish catching bait and her tongue swirling around the tan digits without a halt.

His breath hiccups, excitement swarming up his body. It’s been a long time since she’s wanted to do anything with him, and she hardly ever was this enthusiastic when she did.

But he won’t complain, too wary of making a comment that would break whatever laid-back spell she seems to be under.

He glides his other hand over the curve of her ass, bunching her dress (a strange fabric, he notes) and attempting to pull it up, praying to feel the slick warmth between her legs, but she pushes his touch away.

He doesn’t try it again.

She shudders against him as if he were pleasuring her though, sucking on his fingers generously for a few more moments before slipping them out with a dirty ‘pop!’.

She scoots away, and his stomach drops a little. He sits up and reaches out, searching for her like a lost dog.

“Ali? Ali? You there?”

Blinking rapidly trying to adjust his eyes in the dark, he wonders if he had imagined the whole thing in his sleep-deprived state.

Then a soft mouth smashes against his, and he eagerly leans in like her lips are coated in honey. Her passion making him dizzy.

She slaps away his itching hands trying to pull her in by her wrists, yet allows him to slide his tongue against hers in a way that makes desperation overcome him. Yearning to grope her soft breasts and hear her moan sweetly in his ear. To hear she loves it—loves him.

Wetness smears against his chin, too cool to be spit.

He turns his head to stop her. “Wait, hey. Are you crying?”

He gets nothing but silence in return. Why must she toy with him like this? “Ali, what is?—”

He catches a whiff of the fluid on his hand, and the clear image of a small bottle of kid’s iron vitamins appears in his mind. “Ali, are you... bleeding ?”

No response.

He fumbles for the lamp, yanking down the chain so hard the entire thing almost falls to the floor and shatters.

He’s been so rough with everything lately.

Light bathes the small room, showing no girl with injuries on her. Showing no one at all.

He inspects his hand to make sure the blood is real.

And it is.

Bright and sticking, trailing from his bed to the open door showing the dark abyss of the unlit apartment.

His heart sinks in his chest like an anchor. He sits there feeling frozen for what feels like an hour before standing slowly and making his way out, feeling up the hallway wall until he finds a switch.

He peeks into his mother’s room, relieved to find her sound asleep, snoring quietly with the moon pouring in from the window.

Adrenaline builds as he follows the blood trail to the box-like kitchen, finding an envelope on the counter.

He glances at the house phone but decides to make no move towards it.

Picking up the envelope cautiously, he lifts the unlicked cover and spreads it open to see inside.

It’s a letter.

He plucks the paper out and sets it on the laminate, shivering at the sight of what was hidden underneath.

A blood-soaked hair tie and a tooth.

He drops it back onto the counter and surveys his surroundings for a moment before turning his attention to the letter.

In pungent red, It reads:

Break up with Ali or she’s next in line. By next year, you will be mine.

PS: I’m calling tomorrow at 7 PM, it better be you who answers.

Red and pink doodled hearts surround the words, making Daniel picture someone kicking their feet cutesily while writing it after severely injuring, or far more horrific, murdering someone for him.

Just to be with a failing shop owner who lives with his mother?

An unexpected thrill curls in his chest, and he doesn’t feel so exhausted anymore. Not even fearful.

He should feel sick.

He should call the cops.

He dials Ali and smiles at the floor.

[samyanggs]

Hi, how about Buddha and Loki with an S/O who copes with their shit mental health via energy drinks, coffee and escapism?They’re always reading and listening to music and daydreaming almost 24/7. They drink water, like, once every 2 weeks (if they feel like self-care) and they rarely ever actually eat or sleep because they feel like they actually have control for once in their life. They also have periods where they drop everyone and it’s near impossible to get ahold of them unless you into their room. q(❂‿❂)p

Hihii that’s a really good idea Ty for requesting! I’m sick(?) and haven’t gotten much sleep so sorry if this isn’t how you want it to be I’ll write headcanons since my motivation to write disappeared (I’ll write the stories later once I found the motivation to write haha)

“Except you.. you can stay..”

Warnings: none that I know of

My first time writing loki slight ooc I nearly fell asleep writing this, don’t be afraid to reach out to me for any reason, take care of yourselves <3

Buddha

Has to drag you out of your room if he wants you to spend time with him (with promises that he’ll get you more energy drinks, coffee and others much to his distaste)

Makes you sleep with him when he’s tired knowing that you didn’t sleep much

Sometimes joins you while you’re reading bringing snacks and drinks for you (most of them are water but you only drink the soda)

Often tries to help you with your mental health and offering comfort to which you allow but you argue that you still have your coping habits to go too (“those aren’t good coping mechanisms” “says who?” “Me. Buddha. A god.” “… no”)

Sometimes forces you to drink water by deceiving you into thinking that it was a soda. You always end up spitting it out at him once you realise

Whenever you’re on your period he comes over with some soda, snacks and necessities for you the only time he’ll allow you to drink soda is during this time because he knows how moody you can get

Doesn’t force you to go out with him because he’d rather be with you alone than outside with lots of people which you are happy with

Sometimes he has to lower down your music in your headphones because he can hear it loudly and he’s scared that you’re damaging your eardrums

He watches you as you daydream. About what? He’s still trying to figure it out. Often pulls you back to reality to remind you that you need to drink something because you end up daydreaming for close to an hour

He’s super happy whenever you drink water willingly and he helps you whenever you’re feeling like doing self care. A massage? You got it. A cuddle session? Of course! Anything you want when you’re feeling like self care

Loki

Loki reads with you when you feel like reading well more like he does whatever while you read keeping you close to him

Definitely tells you to drink some water when he notices it’s your 4th cup of coffee of the day and it hadn’t reached 12 pm yet

Holds you close while you listen to music and daydream because he likes holding you close to him

Reminds you to drink water at least once everyday and doesn’t force you to drink water (he puts water in some of your energy drinks and covers it so you won’t notice the difference because you’re too tired)

Pops over to your room every once in a while to drag you out because you haven’t seen the outside in weeks

He tries to argue with you about your coping mechanisms but always let you win because you’re too stubborn and he can’t get mad at you (“those aren’t good coping mechanisms” “are too” “are not” are too!” “Are not” “yes they are” “fine. But this isn’t over”)

You’re on your period? He’s staying locked in your room with you, he knows how mad and moody you can get when you’re on your period. He brings snacks and drinks for you as well as some necessities that he had to ask Aphrodite for help with because he’s a good partner.

Will lay down with you and help you through your moodiness by playing games with you and entertaining you

You finally decide to drink water? This man becomes your butler for the entire time you feel like self care he will do (almost) anything for you (almost because he’s a god and he still has some dignity)

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 4

Trying to get back to normal after sleeping with your boss is easier said than done. A continuation of chapters 1-3, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Length: 8.3k

Warnings: Mild violence (full fic is pretty smutty so Minors DNI). No use of Y/N.

“Ugh, I’m so jealous of how cute you always make your apartments,” your friend, Cassie, was splayed out like a starfish in the middle of your living room floor. “Why aren’t we roommates? I want a cute apartment.” 

“You had a cute apartment,” you replied, stretched out on your couch, one leg dangling off the side of it. “When I helped you unpack it. And then you trashed it within a week. Which is why we’re not roommates.” 

“I’d keep it clean if I had the right motivation,” she pouted. You smiled. 

“No you wouldn’t. I’d keep it clean and you’d reap the benefits. Which is why we’re not roommates.” 

“I hate that you’re right,” she sighed. You laughed. 

“But thank you for helping me settle in to this place,” you said, looking around your freshly unpacked living room, a pile of broken down boxes sitting by your front door. “It made it a lot easier, having an extra set of hands.” 

It was true. After Joel and Tommy had left the day before, you’d basically just cried half the night, sitting on your couch and staring into space and trying to think about anything besides what you’d been doing the night before. When you went to bed, you told yourself you were getting up and unpacking in the morning. You had to keep going. Just because things hadn’t worked out with Joel didn’t mean you got to derail your life, even if that’s all you really felt like doing. 

When Cassie called to see if you wanted help unpacking, you’d jumped on it. You didn’t have a ton of stuff but you had enough that it seemed a bit overwhelming to do on your own. She helped you get through every last box, setting knick-knacks out on the bookshelves and putting plates in cupboards and hanging dresses in your closet. Now, the job was done, the Janis Joplin album you’d been listening to past the end, a pleasant crackle the only thing coming from your newly-set up record player. 

“Happy to do anything to put off studying for finals,” she sighed, her southern drawl thick. You snorted. “Haven’t actually been able to talk with you much lately, how was it living with the DILF?” 

“Cass!” You gaped at her. She smirked. “Come on…” 

“What!” She laughed. “I’ve only met him like twice but dude is hot. Like if he was in hell I’d buy a one way ticket hot.” 

“You’re insane,” you groaned. 

“And I can’t believe you haven’t made a move on him,” she said. “I mean, the set up could not be better. Or more porn-y. You’re the hot babysitter! All young and sexy hanging around his house all the time. All you’d probably have to do is drop one hint and he’d be all over you…” 

“Turns out all I had to do was strip and get in his pool while tipsy,” you said before you could talk yourself out of it. Cassie sat up so fast it looked like she was on a spring. 

“YOU WHAT?” She shrieked. 

“Shhh!” You hissed, waving at her. “I just moved in, I’d rather my neighbors not hate me already…” 

“You fucked the DILF?” She sat up on her knees and scooted across the floor until she was in your face. 

“Can you call him something else, please?” You groaned. 

“Did you fuck him?” She demanded. “I’ll call him that again if you don’t spill.” 

“I… had sex with Joel,” you winced as you said it. She squealed, grabbing a pillow and smacking you with it. “Ow.” 

“When?” She demanded. “How? How was it? What are you doing now? Details, woman!” 

“Friday night?” You asked more than answered. 

“Oh my God,” she got up, lifting your legs off the couch and putting them on the floor so she could sit next to you. You sighed and sat up, tucking yourself into the corner and clutching a pillow to your stomach, your legs curled beside you. “Wait, was that your first time? That was your first time, right?” 

“Yeah,” you winced again. She grabbed the pillow and hit your legs with it again. 

“Oh. My. God.” She smacked you with the pillow on each word and you groaned, burying your face in the pillow on your lap. “How’d it happen?” 

You pulled your face from the pillow and sighed. 

“I made him dinner,” you said. “Well, I made him and Sarah dinner but Sarah ended up at a friend’s house for a slumber party so it was just the two of us…” 

“Sure, sure,” she nodded along. “You’re a great cook, not surprised that seduced him.” 

“I wasn’t trying to seduce him,” you groaned. “I swear, I really wasn’t…” 

“You’ve had a crush on the guy for more than a year,” she rolled her eyes. “It was at least subconscious seduction.” 

“Either way,” you sighed. “I’d been cooking and it was warm and I asked if I could swim but I didn’t have a swim suit…” 

“So you skinny dipped.” 

“No!” You glared at her. “I… jumped in the pool in my underwear.” 

“Girl!” 

“It wasn’t even sexy underwear!” You replied. “But I did… take my dress off in front of him.” 

“Oh my GOD you big slut!” Cassie was giddy. You groaned. “I love it, tell me more.” 

“He seemed to like me taking my clothes off?” You more asked than said. You were still uncertain about that, just how much he’d actually liked it. 

“Well duh,” she shrugged. “You’re a hot young thing, of course he liked it, he’s a guy.” 

“I didn’t think he saw me that way,” your hold on the pillow tightened. “But I saw how he was looking at me… or I thought I did, anyway. So he got in the pool too, in his boxers…” She shrieked before covering her mouth and nodding you on. “ And then… one thing led to another.” 

“So was it good?” She asked. You blushed and nodded. “OK, how good? Like, I know you don’t have much to compare it to but…” 

“Cass,” you said earnestly. “It was… holy shit. It was so fucking good.” 

“Did you…” she raised her eyebrows at you. You just frowned. She rolled her eyes. “Oh my God you’re such a virgin.” 

“Not anymore,” you smirked a little. She glared at you. 

“You know what I’m asking,” she said. “Did you finish? Or at least get close? It was your first time, you can’t really expect…” 

“Oh, I finished,” you cut her off. She looked surprised. 

“You seem awful certain of yourself there.” 

“Because I finished a lot,” you said, smiling in spite of yourself. “And hard. So many times, Cass.” 

She blinked in shock. 

“How many times?” She asked. You thought for a second. 

“Well, there was twice in the pool,” you said. “Then once in the shower and two more times in bed… I think that’s it.” 

“How many times did you fuck him?” She demanded. 

“Just twice!” You said, defensive. 

“And he got you off five times.” 

You just nodded. 

“Holy shit,” she gaped at you. “I’d need to fuck Chad like 15 times to have five orgasms, and that’s just if he hits his average.” 

You just shrugged, not really sure what else to say. 

“That’s it,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Now that Chad and I are done, next guy I date is going to be a DILF. I’m not settling for anything less than multiple orgasms from day one.” 

“I’m sorry about you and Chad,” you said. She waved you off. 

“I’m not dating anyone who has friends like Jeremy,” she scoffed. “Fuck that guy. Fuck both those guys. Besides, now I’m free to find myself a DILF. Anyway, what are you guys going to do now? Have you talked about it?”

“We’re not doing anything about it,” you sighed. “I’m his daughter’s nanny and he said he has to do what’s best for her. Which he’s right, he does. And that’s not me.” 

You tried to fight the tears that were welling up in you but you didn’t do a good job of it, pinching the bridge of your nose to keep from crying. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Cassie’s voice softened, her typical bravado gone. She pulled you against her, running her hand down your back. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I did it to myself,” you sniffed into her shoulder. “He’s a good dad, his daughter takes priority. I knew that, I knew this could happen….” 

“Are you still going to work for him?” She asked, still holding you. 

“Yeah,” you said. “At least, I sure hope so. I don’t have another way to pay rent this summer.” 

She pulled back from you, a sad look on her face. 

“Think you can handle that?” She asked. “Being around the guy you love and you lost your virginity to that often?” 

“I never said I loved him,” you wiped your cheeks. 

“Oh honey,” she smiled sadly. “C’mon. I’m not that dumb and I know you’re not that dumb.” 

“I’ll just…” you shrugged. “I’ll deal with it. I don’t have another way to pay rent and I really don’t want to just leave Sarah like that. I’m an adult. When you do adult stuff sometimes you have to deal with adult consequences. Right?” 

She just sighed. 

“I’m sleeping over,” she said. Before you opened your mouth to protest, she cut you off. “No, I am. You need ice cream and you need liquor and I need… to have an excuse to not study for my chem final.” You laughed and she smiled. “It’ll be better tomorrow. Promise.”

She was right, it was a bit better the next day. The hollow ache in your chest was better when she was there. Cassie got bourbon and insisted that it didn’t really count as drinking it when you just poured it over ice cream. You ordered a pizza loaded with mushrooms and extra cheese and watched your favorite romantic comedies before eventually passing out on the floor of your living room, surrounded by the glow of TV static and empty wine bottles. 

Finals felt particularly hard that year. You’d always been a good test taker and studying had never been a major hurdle for you, but every class felt like a slog as you fought to get through your last week of the semester. It was like your brain was somewhere else entirely. You could focus on the exam for a few minutes if you really forced yourself to, but the second your mind drifted even slightly, you were wondering what Joel was doing. What was he feeling? Was he missing you or had Friday night barely even registered for him? 

Sometimes, when your heart and mind wanted to be especially cruel, your thoughts drifted to Friday night. Just how full you’d felt and how empty you felt now. How he’d carefully, expertly drawn pleasure from your body like it was an art form. The way you’d felt closer to him than you had to any other person. And then he’d cut you off cold. Hadn’t even called. Maybe it really hadn’t mattered to him. Which was fine. Or so you tried to convince yourself. Just because it had been special for you doesn’t mean it had to be special for him and that was OK. It’s not like you hadn’t enjoyed it. That’s all he’d really owed you, you supposed. A good time in bed. And he’d definitely delivered on that. 

That’s what you decided the night before you were set to start looking after Sarah again. It had been two weeks since you’d last seen or heard from Joel. You weren’t sure what seeing him again would do to you. It wasn’t like you were some heartbroken little girl but you weren’t going to pretend like it wasn’t going to hurt. It definitely was. But, if you thought about it as a one night thing - just an exchange between two people who wanted to have some fun - that made it a bit better. Like you hadn’t been let down. 

“You can do this,” you said to yourself as you stared up at the ceiling. “It’s just work. You’ve always had a crush on Joel. This isn’t any different than before. You’ll hardly see the guy. You can do this.” 

Your resolve wavered a bit as you knocked on his front door the next morning. There was no response but you could hear voices inside. You glanced at your watch. 7:25 a.m. He’d need to leave for work in 20 minutes. You’d always just let yourself in the summer before… You tested the door. Unlocked.

“You can do this,” you said again, opening the front door. 

“But I want to go!” Sarah was all but yelling at her father. “It’s not fair!” 

“I don’t care if it’s fair or not,” Joel said back, sounding exasperated. “You’re not going, you’re too young…” 

“But everyone’s going!” She whined. 

You went further into the house, frowning as you fidgeted with the pendent around your neck. 

“Don’t care if everyone in Austin is goin’ because you ain’t,” Joel’s accent was getting thicker. You half smiled. This fight had probably been going for a minute. You found them both in Sarah’s room, the girl standing defiantly with her arms crossed, staring her father down, Joel with his hands on his hips looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. 

“Where isn’t she going?” You asked, leaning against the doorway. Both of their heads whipped around to see you, Sarah’s face lighting up and Joel’s mouth just hanging open slightly. 

“Maybe you can convince him,” Sarah said. “He actually LISTENS to you…” 

“I’m not exactly a great parent convincer,” you scrunched your nose at her. “I just let you get away with more than he does so you think I am.” 

Joel was still gaping at you. 

“Sorry,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Door was open, I don’t think you heard me knock over the thermonuclear war happening in here so I just let myself in…” 

“That’s fine,” he said quickly. “Just… How’ve you been?” 

“Fine,” you shrugged. “Finals are over, so that’s nice.” 

“Good,” he said, nodding. “That’s… I never did… Well I didn’t go to school so I don’t know shit about finals but probably good to have them done.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “Biochem was rough but I got an A-.” 

You just looked at each other for a moment. 

“Where isn’t Sarah going?” You asked eventually. 

“A pool party,” Sarah said. “There’s a boy at school…” 

“And there it is,” Joel cut her off, turning his attention back to his daughter. “You’re not going, I can’t be there so you’re not going. You’re too young to be going and hanging out with some boy in your bathing suit…” 

“It’s not like we’re going to be by ourselves, Dad!” She whined. “You’re being so lame!” 

“Sarah,” he sighed. 

“Joel?” You said. He turned his head to face you so fast it almost made you jump. “Can I talk to you? Just… 30 seconds.” You looked at Sarah. “No eavesdropping.” 

You led the way to the living room, pulling Joel into the corner of the room furthest from Sarah’s bedroom door. 

“Are you only opposed because she’d be going unsupervised?” You asked. 

“Well, that and she’s too young for boy girl parties,” he muttered. “I thought I had another three years before I had to deal with this shit. Two at least.” 

“Well yeah, she’s too young for THAT kind of boy girl party but she’s 10,” you shrugged. “I think you’re trying to make this more than it is. She’s got that one piece, right?” 

“She’s gotten taller since last summer though…” he looked back towards her room. 

“OK,” you shrugged. “I’ll take her shopping, find her something that she likes that you’ll sign off on and I’ll take her to the party and make sure all the boys behave themselves.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he shook his head. 

“You’re not,” you shrugged. “I’m offering. It’s going to be a party which means plenty of kids. She’ll probably feel very left out if she doesn’t get to go and all her friends are going to be talking about it all summer if they’re not all together again until the school year starts. You really want to deal with her being pissy at you that long? Because tween girls are a whole different animal, they can hold grudges like no other…”  

“Fine,” he sighed. “But if she’s not a damn angel this whole week…” 

“Sarah’s always an angel,” you smirked a bit at him. 

“We both know that ain’t true,” he muttered and then sighed. “But she’s a good kid. A great kid. I should give her more credit, huh?” 

“Yup,” you nodded. “You lucked out with that one, Miller.” 

“I did,” he sighed again, before looking down at you. “Hey, um…” 

“I’d rather not talk about it if that’s OK?” You said quickly. “Just go tell your kid that you’re the cool dad and then go to work, OK?” 

His eyes searched yours for a moment. 

“Yeah, OK.” 

When Joel told Sarah she could go to the pool party, it was like a switch flipped. She flung her arms around her dad’s neck, leaping at him so he had to catch her. He smiled over her shoulder at you and you smiled back. It was so easy, making them both happy. You could do that. 

When Joel left for work, things got easier. It was easy to pretend that the house was the same as it had always been - definitely hadn’t been fucked within an inch of your life in here, no sir. You fell into an easy rhythm with Sarah, walking down to the new playground they’d put in at the park down the road - this one had a really tall slide that the bigger kids were all about. Walking back for lunch. You went to the mall that day to shop for a swim suit instead of going to the library and you found a suit that Sarah loved (it was a two piece) that you thought Joel could tolerate (it was a tankini that covered everything but a sliver of skin between the top and the bottoms.) Joel got home a little after five and you all but ran out the door even as he tried to make awkward small talk with you. 

It was odd, feeling accomplished about just surviving the day. But you’d seen Joel again and hadn’t even cried. Yet. You probably would later but you’d deal with that when the time came. You decided you’d earned a treat but your bank account balance was a bit dismal, so you stopped at your favorite coffee shop. Yes, it just so happened to be the one you’d met Joel at the first time, so what? You could do that. Just go there without thinking about him. Much. 

You got yourself an iced lavender latte and at a small table at the back, tucking yourself into the corner of the bench side of it and pulling out your book. You’d purposely picked something that you’d have to focus on - “The Count of Monte Cristo” in the original French - so your mind wouldn’t wander to dangerous places. Like how Joel still smelled like sawdust. 

“That final was a bitch, wasn’t it?” 

You jumped a little, looking around for who spoke. There was a man in front of you, about your age, smiling with open eyes, leaning on the chair across from you. 

“I’m sorry?” You asked, lowering the book. 

“Biochem,” he said, giving you a sheepish half smile. “We weren’t in the same lab but we were in the same lecture hall. You always sat near the front, on the side of the room with the wonky projector? You always got to class earlier than me…” 

“Oh,” you weren’t really sure what to say about that. You smiled anyway. “Yeah, that sounds like me. And yeah, that final… woof.” 

“Right?” He took the seat across from you. “I thought I was toast. Heard a rumor you set the curve, though.” 

“Seems like a vicious lie to me,” you smiled a little broader. “Couldn’t possibly have a reliable source for that…” 

“Just the TA,” he winked. You put your book face down on the table, keeping your place. “Are you pre-med then?” 

“Just bio,” you replied. “I’d love to do pre-med but I just can’t wrap my head around taking out enough student loans to become a doctor.” 

“Damn,” he said. “And here I’d hoped we’d have more classes together.” 

“Why would you hope for a thing like that?” You asked, smiling a bit bigger. 

“The pre-med lecture halls look real boring after a while,” he leaned on the small table. “Course, maybe that’s a good thing. Fewer distractions.” 

“I’m a distraction?” You asked, raising a brow at him. 

“A nice one,” he nodded. “Because without you there, I usually set the curve.” 

You chatted with him for a while longer. His name was Brad and he claimed to have been trying to work up the courage to talk to you all semester. He took running into you at the coffee shop to be a sign that he should actually say something to you. You didn’t fight him on the idea. He seemed… nice. He was flirting with you and it felt good, even if you weren’t especially interested in him. 

“Are you free Friday?” He asked. “My roommate’s band is playing and I’ll be honest, I’d love to have someone suffer with me.” 

“I mean, since you’re selling it so hard,” you teased. He laughed. 

“They’re actually not bad,” he said. “I just don’t want to show up with the prettiest girl and have her run off with the lead guitarist. Also, my roommate’s the lead guitarist.” 

“Oh, so the bassist is fine?” You raised your eyebrows. 

“Yeah, that’d sting less,” he said. “Plus the bassist is kind of a dumbass and you’re smart so you’ll get bored quick. I’d still have a shot.” 

“Well so long as the important things are settled,” you smiled. “Then yeah, I’d like to come.” 

You exchanged information and you put his number in your book as a bookmark, gathering your things and heading home as the coffee shop closed. 

“You need to dress like a slut.” Cassie was rifling through your closet Thursday night. You’d managed to avoid Joel for almost the entire week, saying only a handful of words to him since Monday. You practically tripped over yourself trying to get out the door when he came home, desperate to put some distance between you. He wasn’t exactly trying to stop you, either, seemingly happy to get you out of his hair as soon as humanly possible. You kept trying to think about Brad. He was nice. He was smart. He was definitely interested. He was even pretty cute. He just… wasn’t Joel. 

“I’m not dressing like a slut,” you sighed, flat on your back on your bed, your head hanging over the side as you watched her go through your clothes. 

“Want to borrow something from me?” She said, ignoring you. “You need something that says ‘hey Brad, I’m open for business.’” 

“Do I?” You asked.

“Want to get over Joel?” She asked, cocking her head all the way to the side to try to meet your eyes. “Fuck Brad.” 

“It’s a first date,” you said. “I’m not fucking Brad.” 

“Fucked Joel without a first date,” she muttered. 

“Hey!” You said, indignant. “That’s different. We’d known each other a while.” 

“Well Brad’s been gazing longingly across a lecture hall at you for half a year,” she replied. “That almost counts.” 

“I wish I could be more casual about sex…” you began but she interrupted you. 

“The way you become more casual about sex is by having casual sex,” she said. “Sweetie, it’s not that big of a deal, I promise it’s not. At least think about it, something to get that man out of your system. You need it.” 

You sighed, thinking for the millionth time about how good he’d felt sinking into your body. How close you felt to him when talking in the dark, his skin on yours. 

“Yeah,” you signed, trying to imagine what it would be like to feel Brad’s lips on your skin. But he kept changing shape until it wasn’t Brad in your mind anymore. “I do need it.” 

Friday was Sarah’s pool party, making it a pretty damn easy day for you at work. You brought a bottle of nail polish and you sat on the deck of the pool as you just watched Sarah and Lizzie play with Charlie - the boy that had Joel so worried, a red headed kid who looked like he was made of more freckles than anything else - and about a dozen other kids you didn’t know. You gave yourself a mani-pedi poolside, trying to keep from getting soaked by splashing kids. 

“So are you Sarah’s step-mom?” A woman smiled stiffly down at you, a small pile of towels in her arms. 

“Oh, no,” you laughed a little. “Just the nanny.” 

“Oh!” She laughed back, her smile becoming a bit more genuine. She sat down next to you. “I’m Clare’s mom, she’s the one in the blue suit.” She pointed her daughter out. She was leaping into the water, blonde pigtails streaming out behind her. 

“She seems like a fun kid,” you smiled before going back to your toes. 

“She’s the best,” she said. You felt her watching you. “So you’re just the nanny then?” 

“Last time I checked,” you said absently, cleaning up the stray polish on your big toe. “Why?” 

“Oh, no big reason,” she laughed a little. “I’d just… well, I’d be lying if I said just about every single mom here hasn’t had her eye on Joel Miller.” 

“Really?” You said, looking over at her. 

“Oh heck yeah,” she laughed. “I mean, you’ve met him. Obviously. A man who looks that good, knows how to fix things around the house AND he’s a dedicated parent? My goodness.” 

“Mr. Miller is pretty great,” you smiled tightly, going back to your polish. “Really nice boss. And Sarah’s a dream. I lucked out.” 

“I’m just relieved you’re not the girlfriend,” she said. “Not for me, of course. Happily married for 13 years. But my friend Susan over there would be heartbroken. She sent me over to do recon.” 

You glanced up and saw a woman in a lime green one piece eyeing you from across the pool. She had to be 20 years older than you which gave her a good 10 years on Joel. 

“Feel free to report back that Mr. Miller is - as far as the nanny is aware - very much on the market,” you said, closing the bottle of nail polish. Sarah shoved Lizzie in the pool and then jumped in after her with a shriek. “Susan should definitely give it a go, though. Mr. Miller’s busy but I think he’d make time for the right person.” 

“Thanks so much, sweetie,” she smiled broadly. “So nice to meet you! Hope to see you at more of these types of things.” 

“You too,” you smiled politely. 

The pool party wound down but Sarah and Lizzie were getting on like a house on fire. You found Lizzie’s mom - a nice if frazzled woman named Margie who you’d met a few times before - and invited her daughter over to keep swimming at the Millers’ until Joel got home around six. 

“Oh, you’re a dream!” She pulled you into a hug. “I’ve been desperate to go run some errands without Lizzie tossing stuff in the cart…” 

“No problem,” you smiled. “Happy to take the girls.” 

They sang Britney Spears on the top of their lungs the whole drive home and practically hurled themselves into the pool the second they were in the door. You just laughed, going to sit outside to watch them play, bringing your book to keep you occupied. You’d almost survived the first week of summer. You hadn’t caved and tried to fuck Joel again. You could do this. You were almost positive. 

***

Joel heard the shriek of girls in the backyard the second his truck door opened. He sighed and shook his head. So Sarah had conned you into having a friend over, even after the party. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. He just hoped to God you weren’t in the pool, too. He didn’t think he could take that. 

He was surprised he’d survived as long as he had. He’d missed you the second he left your apartment the day he helped move you in. Regretted cutting things off with you almost instantly. It seemed like the right thing to do but it felt wrong. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this fucking alone. 

If Sarah had been at a friend’s house that night, he’d have just shown up at your door. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he couldn’t leave his 10-year-old daughter unsupervised. He wanted to apologize to you, beg you to give him a chance. He’d get down on his knees, he didn’t care. 

But just because he wanted that didn’t mean that it was the right thing to do. It would be confusing for Sarah if it didn’t work out - and how could it work out? You were 21 and a college student with a bright future, he was 32 and his life hadn’t been his own in a decade. Sarah had kept him close to home, reminded him of what he should do. What he had to do. 

Then, summer started. You were there in the morning as he tried to get out the door, you were there at night when he got home. He knew you weren’t trying to turn him on - if anything, you were avoiding him like the plague. You’d hardly said two words to him since Monday. But your legs in those shorts, your breasts in those dresses, the ribbons you put on the ends of your braids when you were trying to keep your hair off your neck in the heat. You were so soft and sweet and fucking good and there in his house and he knew how it felt to be inside you… 

You’d better not be in his fucking pool. 

You weren’t. But it was almost worse. You were laid out on a lounge chair on the deck, your back to the door, in white shorts so short he was sure he’d see your ass if you bent over in front of him. Your pale purple tank top clung to you and he could see a hint of a pink bra strap below. You were reading a book in French - because of course you were reading a book in fucking French - and there were ribbons on the ends of your braids. Your nails were pink. He was sure they hadn’t been pink when he saw you this morning. You’d painted your goddamn nails. Why had you painted your goddamn nails? 

“Dad!” Sarah clambered out of the pool in the new suit you’d helped her find. You noticed him then, not having realized he’d gotten home. “Thank you so so so so so so so so much, the party was SO fun…” 

She threw her wet body against him in a hug. 

���Glad you had fun,” he gave her a squeeze and glanced down at you. You were watching him, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand, smiling gently. “She behave herself?” 

“Of course,” you said, gathering up some scrap paper from the table beside you and putting it in your book. One piece of paper looked like it had a phone number on it. Joel frowned. “It seemed like everyone had a blast, no trouble at the party whatsoever.” 

“Good,” Joel said. Whose number did you have? Was it some fucking boy’s? Was that why you’d painted your damn nails? You checked your watch. 

“Lizzie’s mom should be here any minute,” you said, getting up from the chair and crossing your arms over your body. Like that was going to stop him from remembering just what you looked like naked. “You’re home a bit earlier than I expected. I can hang out for a bit until she gets here, I don’t want to saddle you with watching an extra kid…” 

“No, you go on home,” he waved you off. He couldn’t handle you being here any longer than you had to be. “Get a start on the weekend.” 

“You’re sure?” You asked, absently running your fingers over your elbow. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. 

“Thanks,” you smiled tightly back at him. “Have a good weekend, Joel.” You looked back to the pool, where Sarah had jumped back in. “Bye Sarah!” 

“Bye!” She waved quickly before going back to splashing Lizzie. Joel watched you go until well after you’d closed the front door behind you and he couldn’t see you anymore. 

Margie came by to pick up Lizzie not long after you left, both adults required to herd both girls out of the pool. 

“Would Sarah want to come sleep over?” Margie asked as the girls giggled and wrote new verses to songs Joel was sure he’d heard coming from the boom box in Sarah’s room. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to put you out,” he shook his head. “Feels like Sarah’s over at y’all’s place as much as she is here…” 

“Honestly, it makes life easier on us,” she smiled. “Sarah’s such a great kid, she keeps Lizzie occupied so I can deal with her brothers. The boys are such a handful… don’t have twins if you can help it, Joel.” 

“I’ll try my best,” he smiled. “If you’re really OK with it…” 

“Really, you’d be doing me a favor,” she insisted. So Joel gave in. And he was home alone for the first time since he’d slept with you. 

He showered and fucked his hand to the memory of making you cum in that shower. He sat on his bed, staring at his phone, telling himself not to call you. He dialed the first four digits of your phone number and then hung up. 

After a while, he called Tommy. 

“Shit, Joel, everything OK?” 

“Why’s something gotta be wrong for me to call?” Joel frowned into the phone. 

“Because it’s Friday night and you never fuckin’ call on a Friday night,” Tommy said. 

“Well, I’m callin’ on a Friday night,” Joel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You doin’ anything fun tonight?” 

“Why?” Joel could hear Tommy’s frown through the phone. “Gonna come drag the party down?” 

“No,” he replied. “Sarah’s just at a friend’s house and I was thinking I should actually get out of my house for a change.” 

“Hell yeah you should!” Tommy said. “I’m going to go listen to some music, should be just your speed…” 

“I could do that,” Joel said. He hadn’t gone to listen to music in a while. That could be fun. It’d get his mind off you, at least. 

“I’ll be by in 20, pick you up,” Tommy said, sounding excited. “This will be good for you, Joel. Promise.” 

And that’s how Joel ended up at a bar in Austin, watching a bunch of fuckin’ kids tune guitars on a Friday night. 

“We’re getting old,” Tommy handed him a bottle of Shiner. “I remember not showing up places like this until after 10. Now it’s not worth the cover charge if we show up that late.” 

“Tell me about it,” Joel muttered, taking a swig. “Barely remember ever being that young.” 

“When you were that young you had a kid,” Tommy said. Joel snorted. He was right. 

They drank and watched as the bar filled up, the band switching to soundcheck not too long after they got there. Joel was actually starting to have fun when the band started playing - they weren’t bad - when he caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He looked instinctively and thought, for half a second, that his eyes were playing tricks on him. But they weren’t. It was you. 

You hadn’t seen him yet. You were wearing one of your dresses - one he hadn’t seen before, white and satiny and form fitting, stopping several inches above your knees. You’d put another fucking ribbon in your hair and curled it, making it look so full and soft. He wanted to tangle his fingers in it, he wanted to ruin it. You were wearing sandals with thick heels that made you taller and your legs look longer and there was gloss on your lips - he caught a glimpse of it when you turned to talk to the man next to you. A man who put his hand on your lower back. Fuck. 

He guided you to a corner of the room, introduced you to the band waiting to play next. Joel could only see you from behind, the white of your dress reflecting the lights from the stage, the man’s hand slipping around your waist. His pinky drifted down, brushing the top of your ass, his thumb running over your ribs. Joel squeezed the beer bottle so hard he was worried it would break. 

“Oh shit, that’s the Kid!” Tommy said, realizing where Joel was looking and getting down from his stool. 

“No, wait,” Joel said, but he didn’t catch Tommy in time, his brother pushing through the increasingly crowded bar until he hugged you from behind. Joel could just watch, like a fucking train wreck, as you realized he was there and that Tommy was all but dragging you and your date over to their table. You said your polite goodbyes to the band and turned and said something to your date, your eyebrows knitted together. 

“Look who I found!” Tommy said proudly, taking his seat again. 

“Hey Joel,” you smiled tightly at him. 

“Hey Kid,” he replied, taking a drink of beer. Fuck, your tits in that dress. He wanted to kiss you, starting at your lips and working his way down until his mouth was on your cleavage. 

“This is Brad,” you said quickly. “Brad, this Joel. I nanny his daughter, Sarah.” 

“Oh, so you’re the boss!” Brad smiled. He was abnormally tall, taller than Joel, with hair that looked like he was trying to be in a fucking boy band. He was all limbs, gangly, clearly never done a day’s hard work in his life. And he was out with you. He held out a hand. “Good to meet you.” 

“You too.” 

Tommy looked back and forth between you, your date and Joel. 

“I need another beer,” he said quickly. “Kid, can I get you something? Joel? Brad?” 

“I’ll take a Shiner,” you smiled. 

“I’ll come with you,” Brad said, giving you a quick squeeze before looking to Joel. “Look out for my girl for a minute, will ya?” 

“Yeah,” Joel said. He took another drink. Tommy and Brad left the table and you watched them go for a moment before turning back to Joel. 

“I’m really sorry,” you said quickly, biting your lip. “I had no idea you’d be here, Brad’s roommate’s band is up next but we can go…” 

“It’s just a bar, Kid,” Joel shrugged. “No reason for anyone to go anywhere.” 

“Oh,” you deflated a bit. “OK. Thanks.” 

“Yup,” he said, taking another drink. He needed to be a lot drunker than this. So much drunker than this. You watched the band, your head bobbing in time to the music. 

“So you’re his girl now, huh?” Joel said after a moment. 

“It’s our first date,” you said, tone sharper than usual. He deserved that. “I don’t know what I am yet.” 

“Seems to think you’re his girl,” he replied. 

“It’s a figure of speech, Joel.” 

“You fucked ‘em yet?” He asked, taking another drink. He did it to be mean. He did it to push you away. He couldn’t just sit here with you this close, not like this. Your mouth fell open for a second before you fixed him with a glare. 

“You don’t get to just ask me that,” you snapped. There were tears in your eyes, clinging to your eyelashes that were longer and darker than usual. “You don’t get to judge me for that. Just because you got bored with me doesn’t mean everyone has, I can fuck whoever I want. It’s none of your damn business!” 

“One Shiner!” Brad slid his arm back around your waist, handing you one of the beers in his other hand. You took it from him, taking a drink while blinking back your tears. Brad hadn’t noticed but Tommy had, frowning and looking between you and Joel as he wordlessly set another beer in front of his brother. 

“Thank you,” you sniffed for a second and smiled up at him before turning back to the table. “I think I want to get up closer to the band, but it was good to see you Tommy, Joel. Have a good weekend, guys.” 

You laced your fingers in Brad’s and pulled him behind you toward the stage. Your body disappeared behind his, Brad pressing himself against your back. One of his hands moved around you. Joel didn’t want to think about the parts of you he was touching with that fucking hand. 

“What the fuck was that, Joel?” Tommy demanded. 

“What was what?” He asked, not looking at him. 

“That!” Tommy snapped. “With the Kid! Don’t treat me like I’m a fucking idiot, what happened between you two.” 

“Nothin’ happened.” 

“Well I know that’s bullshit,” he said. “What happened to ‘she’s off limits?’ Or was that rule just for me?” 

“She is off limits,” Joel growled. “She’s especially off limits for me.” 

“She know that?” Tommy demanded. 

“Drop it, Tommy,” Joel snapped, smacking the beer bottle down on the table with more force than he’d meant to. 

“Did you seriously fuck your nanny?” He hissed at him. Joel winced. “Jesus Christ Joel. You’ve got a lot of fuckin’ nerve…” 

“I swear to God Tommy I will lay you out,” Joel said. “Don’t fuckin’ tempt me.” 

“What’d you do, convince her you loved her and then bail?” He asked. “Doubt a sweet girl like that woulda just jumped in bed with the dad of one of the kids she looks after, so what’d you tell her?” 

“Tommy,” Joel growled. 

“Was it before or after you told me she was off limits?” He demanded. “You worried I’d actually do right by her and she’d get wise to your shit? Just how drunk’d you have to get her to get her into bed with you?” 

Joel snapped. He stood up so fast the stool flew to the ground with a crash and he punched Tommy across the cheek, sending the younger man sprawling into the table next to him. It was like the whole bar froze. The band stopped playing, an eerie silence falling. Joel flexed his hand as his brother staggered back to his feet, holding his face. 

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole, Joel,” he said, breathless. 

Joel looked up and immediately found your face in the crowd around the stage. Brad’s arms were around you, holding you back. Your eyes were wide, your mouth open in shock. Or maybe horror. He couldn’t quite tell. 

“C’mon man,” a bouncer grabbed Joel’s shoulder but he shrugged it off. 

“It’s cool,” Tommy glared at Joel as he said it. “Just my brother. He’s a dick. We’re goin’.” 

Joel walked straight past Tommy’s truck, shoving the hand he’d hit him with in his pocket. 

“Where the fuck you goin’ asshole?” Tommy yelled after him. Joel ignored him. Tommy ran and caught him, his hand on his shoulder pulling him around to face him. Joel got ready to punch him again but Tommy’s hands went up. “Don’t make this worse than it is. You want some meddling asshole to call the fuckin’ cops?” 

Joel dropped his fist, glaring at his brother. 

“You made a goddamn fool out of yourself,” he said, his cheek already bruising. “And you fuckin’ deserved it. The hell were you thinking, messing with that girl?” 

Joel didn’t say anything, just went back and climbed in the passenger seat of Tommy’s truck. 

The drive to Joel’s was silent and he hoped that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Tommy followed him inside, either stupid as hell or itching for a fight. 

“What happened, Joel?” He asked, voice calm for the first time since the bar. “With you and her.” 

“Sarah was at a friend’s place,” he said, voice pained. “We had some wine… Fuck, Tommy, I didn’t mean for it to happen.” 

“Shit,” he sighed, sitting on the couch. “When was this?” 

“Few weeks back,” Joel muttered. 

“And she’s still working for you?” Tommy asked. Joel just nodded. “And nothing’s happened since?” 

“No,” Joel said. 

“Because you’re not interested?” He asked. Joel glared at him. “Yeah, thought that might be the case.”

“Don’t matter how I feel about it,” he sighed. “She’s too young, too big a future ahead of her to get bogged down with me. And Sarah… Sarah fuckin’ loves her. I couldn’t ruin that for her just because I couldn’t keep it in my pants and I…” 

Joel went quiet. 

“And you what.”

“I think… I think I love her, Tommy,” Joel groaned. “I just want her here all the damn time. Want to hear her voice and see her things and smell her hair. I want her leaving her fuckin’ hair in my damn shower every day, I kept finding it for days after and I miss it. Keep hoping I’ll find more sometime. And that guy… He didn’t seem bad, not like that last fuckin’ guy but I don’t trust him, don’t trust any of them, not with her.”  

“You can’t live like this, Joel,” Tommy said quietly. “Obviously. You can’t just go punching people because you’re a jealous asshole. You either need to get away from her entirely - which means cutting her out of Sarah’s life, too - or you need to figure your shit out. Either get over her or get with her - if she’ll still have you.” 

Tommy stood up, clapping Joel on the shoulder. 

“Sorry I hit you,” Joel muttered. 

“Rather get punched in the face than deal with the shit you’ve got goin’ on,” Tommy smiled a bit. “You’ll get it together.” 

“Thanks.” 

He walked him out, locking the door behind him. 

Joel wasn’t any calmer when Tommy left. He paced the living room for a bit before stepping out back, staring down at the pool, the place he’d stood the first time he’d kissed you. You were so fucking beautiful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been quite as happy as that night, felt quite so right with the world. He knew he should regret it but he couldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to regret a damn thing when it led to touching you. 

“Fuck it,” he muttered, going back inside and grabbing his keys. 

He made it to your place in less than 10 minutes, driving faster than he should have. Your car was in the lot but that didn’t mean much if you were still out with that guy. Or - fuck - what if you’d brought him back here. Didn’t matter, he’d made up his mind. If the guy was in your apartment, he wouldn’t punch him. It’d be hard, but he wouldn’t. 

He took the stairs up to your door two at a time and started knocking before he came to a stop in front of it. But there was no response. He tried knocking again. Nothing. 

Joel leaned out over the railing, around to where the windows to your apartment would be. All the lights looked to be off. So you were still out with Brad. Maybe you’d gone back to his place. After what he’d said to you that night, he wouldn’t blame you. 

He sat down, back against the wall next to your door, crossing his arms and leaning his head back against the siding. He closed his eyes. He’d just be here when you got home. You’d have to come home sometime. He could wait. For you, he had all the time in the world. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait that long. He heard you before he saw you. 

“It was nuts, Cass,” you were trying to be quiet as you climbed the stairs to your apartment. “I don’t know what the hell happened. I tried to explain it to Brad but I have no idea what he thinks. Probably that my boss is insane…” 

You were at the top of the stairs now, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, a small orange and white Whataburger cup clutched tight in the other. You stared at Joel for a second. 

“Cass?” You said, still staring at him as he got to his feet. “Call you in the morning.” 

You flipped the phone shut, putting it in your bag and getting out your keys, watching Joel the whole time like you thought he was a wild animal who could do something unhinged at any moment. Which, he figured, was fair. 

“You’ve got some nerve,” you said, keeping your eyes on him as you went to your door and put the keys in the deadbolt, stopping short of opening it. 

“I know,” he said. “Can we talk?” 

You watched him for a moment before you sighed and opened your door, welcoming him in. 

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket says take a fuckin' study break ✩࿐࿔

in honor of it being finals season for many of you, i'm resharing the take a fuckin' study break drabble/minific from ✩࿐࿔ take what you need here, in full. ao3 version here.

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: 1,020.

“Ow!” you yelp, rocking back on your stool and scrubbing a hand at your forehead. “Did you just flick me?”

“I been talking at you for like two minutes,” Rocket grouses. “It’s like talking to a frickin’ wall.”

You glower. “I told you. I’m studying. And writing. And studying. Leave me alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he jeers. “Terran finals. Whatever. Sounds like a waste of time. Haven’t the humies on that backward mudball realized yet that tests don’t actually measure learning? It’s like using a yardstick to measure time.”

You sigh and lean back. “Yeah, they know. Doesn’t matter though. If I want to pass these classes and get this stupid degree, I need to–” You scrub at your forehead again and sigh. “You know what? Never mind. I cannot have you un-motivating me right now. What did you want?”

He leaps neatly onto the stool across from you and sets two glass bottles on the tabletop, then leans his forearms on the little table between you, smirking smugly. “To pay you back, cupcake.” The mockery in his voice does not bode well for you. “Remember what you told me last week when Adam was whining about how I was making him study the Bowie’s schematics for too many hours?”

You feel your stomach drop. “No,” you lie, big-eyed.

His smirk only grows. “Lemme refresh your terrible frickin’ memory, then.” Now his teeth are sharp and he heightens his voice into a whiny falsetto. “But Rocket. Maximum productivity is only five-to-seven hours a day. You can overload the crappy baldbody brain if you go longer than that–”

“Pretty sure I did not say ‘crappy baldbody brain,’” you interject dryly.

“–and he could lose everything you’ve taught him already. Plus, he needs fifteen-to-twenty minute breaks every fifty-to-ninety minutes.”

You stare at him flatly, unwilling to dignify his bad mimicry with a response. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s snickering openly at this point.

“Time to take your fuckin’ break,” he tells you. “It’s for your own damn good.”

You feel your brain fluttering in your skull like a trapped bird, and your heart is already starting to pick up the pace too. “Rocket,” you plead, all that old academic anxiety spiking high. “Unlike Adam, I’m actually on a time table. I need to finish all this by–”

“And if what you told me was true, I’m not gonna let you overdo it and lose it,” he tells you, his voice dropping for just a moment into something serious and intent. “Now get up. You’ve been at this for at least an hour-and-a-half.”

You hesitate, staring reluctantly at your laptop screen.

“Do I gotta give you a direct order, kid?”

You glower at him and drag yourself off the barstool. He turns sideways on his own, leaning against the table lazily and taking a mouthful of his ale. “Five deep breaths,” he orders lazily. “Your eyes aren’t laser cannons, and your angry looks aren’t gonna shut me up, cupcake.”

“God, I hate you,” you tell him, and then close your eyes and plant your feet and take your five stupid deep breaths.

“Roll your shoulders. Three times in each direction.”

You start and he cuts you off with a barked, “Slower. Start over.”

You scowl at him and do it.

“Touch your toes.”

“Geezus, I hate you,” you repeat. He just raises a brow and waits till you follow his instructions.

When you rise back up, he’s nudging the second glass bottle in your direction. “Drink half a’ that.”

You glare but lift it to your mouth anyway. It’s just water – but it’s the perfect temperature, and you suddenly realize you haven’t had anything but caffeine all day, and even that had been hours ago. You end up drinking more than half, easily.

Rocket sighs and shakes his head when you put it down. “Okay, ready for your next mission?”

“Rocket, I don’t have time–”

“It’ll take less time if you shut up and do what I frickin’ say.”

“You are the worst.”

He grins and his tail flicks. “So I’ve been told,” he concedes with mock humility, like you’ve just given him a compliment. He raises a clawed finger. “You need some fresh air, and you need to eat. You’re gonna go down to that street food stall in the Zygomatic Arch and get yourself a roasted yaro root wrap. Then you’re gonna come back and Kraglin’s gonna meet you across the street from here with a data pad. As long as you’re eating that wrap, he’s gonna let you scroll through those Terran holovid transmissions–”

“It’s goddamn Tiktok, Rocket.”

“–for exactly five minutes. No more an’ no less. And then you’re gonna come back in here and drink the rest of your water and I’ll leave you alone.” His grin widens. “At least for the next ninety minutes.”

You stare at him witheringly. “I hate you.”

“You keep saying that, cupcake, but I don’t think it’s true.”

You sigh, and feel your shoulders drop in defeat, and you head toward the open tambour door that leads into the streets. It’ll be nice, you grudgingly suppose: to breathe some fresh air and get some of the artificial Knowhere sunlight on your skin. To stretch your legs out and grab a snack and see some people, even if just in passing.

And it’s good that Kraglin’s gonna be in charge of the datapad because he’s such a fucking simp for his captain that he’s not gonna let you go over the five minutes Rocket has rationed for you on Tiktok.

“Kid.”

You pause in your steps and glance back over your shoulder at Rocket. His smirk is just a little softer, and you abruptly remember that this jackass actually cares about you – like, really cares about you. He just tries to hide it under layers of being fucking annoying.

“You’re gonna win your finals.”

You blink, and a laugh startles its way out of your chest, softly puffing out of your mouth. “That’s not–” you start to say, and then you laugh again and shrug. “Sure will,” you tell him affectionately. “For you, Captain. Thanks.”

please remember to take 15-20 minute breaks every 50-90 minutes! (set alarms on your phone to help.) use that time to open your window or go for a walk (even if it's cold). take some deep breaths. stretch. drink water. unclench your jaw. talk to someone who won't let you stay distracted for too long. and grab something to eat (even if it's just a granola bar). brains don't retain jackshit without sleep, nutrients, and moments of rest.

you got this. you're gonna win your finals.

check the ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist for more self-care reminders, including eat somethin, drink some goddamn water, and go to frickin bed already (yeah that means you).

[delightfulfics]

Swear Jar (Reader x Steve x Tony)

A/N: SUPRISE! hello everybody! i have been gone way too long! i just started college so I have not had time but tonight I was feeling motivated to finish this fic that has been in my drafts since forever! this fic was inspired by “the douche jar” in one of my favorite television series, new girl. if none of you have not seen it I would recommend it since it is hilarious and super addictive comedy to binge watch.

warnings: swearing/curse words

“Oh shit!”

“Y/N!”

Your head shot up from the place in your book and faced the voice in which was Tony’s.

“What?”

“Jar. Now.”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes and reached into the pocket of your jeans. Pulling out a dollar, you got out of your chair and walked over sluggishly to where the jar was, dropping the dollar and pushing it in with the others.

“You would not have to do that kid if you just watched that mouth of yours. You are lucky it was me and not Steve that heard that.”

This was so fucking stupid. You hated that stupid jar. Over the years both Steve and Tony had been on your ass about your cussing but last week Tony had came up with an idea on how to bring down your habit of swearing by making the “Swear Jar”. Anytime anyone in the compound (whether that be Thor, Steve, Tony, Peter and so on) hears you swear you are forced to put a dollar in the jar. Sometimes when you don’t Jarvis always ends up snitching on you and you are forced to put twice the amount you are expected to put in (thanks to Tony).

“You both are sooo god damn old,” you say under your breath and head towards the door.

“Excuse me?”

You stop a few feet away the door and turn towards Tony with his arms crossed, “I mean, I don’t even understand why this stupid jar is even a thing.”

“You should not be swearing as much as you do, Y/N,” a figure states and you don’t even have to turn around to know it is Steve.

You sigh, roll your eyes and make no move to turn towards Steve. “Why do you guys care so much?”

“It is not healthy how much you swear.”

You turn towards Steve with a cold glare in your eye, “It is the way I cope with all the stress that going on. It’s like a relief. I mean can’t I just let off steam?”

“No,” they both say in union.

“I hope you know, Y/N, that there are many other ways to blow off steam besides having that sailor mouth fly.”

“Well, trust me, I have tried,” you turn your back around towards Tony and gritted your teeth, “but, nothing ever works.”

“I’m sure you can find something, kid.”

Ignoring the comment you huffed and chuckled to yourself, “I hope both of you gentlemen know that this stupid jar is not gonna do anything.”

It has been a month of using the jar and now that Steve thought about it you haven’t been really making any progress.

“You know they are right, Cap.”

“Yeah I know, Tony,” Steve sighed heavily and put his fingers on the bridge of his nose, thinking.

“You both should just give up at this point.”

“Who says we are giving up? We might have an idea on how to get you to stop.”

Steve froze, removed his hand from his face and started chuckling making you look at Tony in confusion, “Oh, I think I know exactly how.”

“Oh, really Capsicle? How so?”

“Tony. Grab them.”

“Grab th- wait-“ Tony didn’t hesitate and wrapped his arms around you tightly, securing your arms to your sides with your feet hanging just above the ground. “What are you doing?!”

“Oh, you’ll see,” Tony whispered in your ear.

Steve stalks towards you and stands right in front of you with his arms crossed and smiles sweetly at you.

“What?!” you yell at him, your nerves getting the best of you.

Steve looks at Tony, “Give them to me, Tony.”

“Wait-“ you say, and squeal as Tony tosses you to Steve. He grabs you and starts to carry you bride style, walking over to the couch. “What the hell is going on!” Steve sits down on the couch with you still in his arms and glances at you.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Cap?”

“Count how much money is in the swear jar please,” he says look directly at you as he asks the question.

You don’t put up a fight because you had the feeling if you were, it would result in even more trouble for you.

“It’s about 10 dollars Cap,” he says smiling.

Why was he smiling? Your heart started to pick up, nervous on what their plan was.

“So, should I do one minute or ten minutes?” Steve asks.

“Start off with one.”

“What are you guys talking about?! You’re scaring me!” you look at Steve with confusion in your eyes, pleading him to tell you what’s going on.

“Well,” he says as he grabs your hands, “remember when you were younger?” he starts to slowly raise your arms above your head and tighten his hold on you.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he was about to do. You immediately start to squirm. “Oh hell no!”

“Make that two,” Tony adds.

Steve smiles at your squirming figure, “Sweetheart,” he leans close to your ear, “You’re not going anywhere,” he starts to wiggle his fingers slowly into your armpits.

You start to giggle and move your head towards your armpit, blocking it from his devilish fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Steve tsks, and shoves his head into the other side of your neck, rubbing his stubble into your neck.

“NO!” you start to cackle, remembering that this was what he would do to you as a kid all the time. Every-time you misbehaved he would pick you up and rub his beard into your neck, knowing that it could easy reduce you into giggles. “Steve, stop!”

He laughs at your shrieks, making it even more ticklish with the vibrations. He lifts up his head and stops tickling your armpits but still keeps your arms pinned. “How much time we got left?”

“A minute and a half,” Tony says teasingly and looks directly at you and you glare back at him.

“Perfect!” He moves his hand right above your stomach, slowly curling it, watching you as your eyes widen in panic.

“Steve!” He smiles at you and starts to wiggle his fingers, lowering his hand towards your most ticklish spot.

“I can’t control it, Y/N. I have been taken over!” He dramatically states and darts his hand on your stomach, making you yell but you don’t feel him move his hand. You look at him in confusion. He smiles wide and stares at you in silence.

“Stev-“ he finally attacks, using his hand to claw into the middle of your stomach, vibrating his hand making you throw your head back and scream-laugh.

“Wow. I’ve never seen the kid scream like that! That’s new!”

“SHUT UP!” you yell at Tony.

Steve gasps, “How dare you?!”

Tony walks over to you still cackling with laughter as Steve scribbles his hand all over your stomach and your sides. He stands over you and puts his hand over his heart, “Ouch, Y/N, that stings”

“Wanna join, Tony?” Steve looks at Tony and smirks.

“See, I wasn’t going to but not that you insulted me like that now, I have to!” He throws his hands up dramatically and huffs.

You feel Steve let go off your arms and stops tickling you. You let out a deep breath but soon you feel Tony grab you and throw you over his shoulder.

“Where are you most ticklish?” Tony asks and looks at you upside down.

“I’m not saying shit!” you yell.

Tony sighs, “Well I guess i’m gonna have to figure it out!” he then starts to claw his hand into your stomach, scrubbing his fingers all over, making you squeal and try to squirm but it’s impossible especially with you on his shoulder. “Why are you laughing so much?!” You cackle as he starts to squeeze your sides fast and quickly, making your body jolt with each squeeze.

“TONY!”

He smiles at you, “Yes, booger?”

“PLEASEEE!” you giggle, feeling his hands start to claw into your stomach like Steve had done minutes ago.

“Please what?”

“PLEASE STOP!”

Steve stands in front of you two, smiling down at your giggling figure, “Are you sorry?”

“YES! IM SORRY!”

“Hmm,” Tony starts to slow down the tickling, lightly poking your sides and stomach making you squeal and giggle, “I don’t know Steve if she learned their lesson.”

“I know something that will make her think twice before swearing again,” he smirks at you. Tony paused tickling you and took him off your shoulder and handing you back to Steve. He carried you bride-style again and looked at you smiling, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head again but slowly lifting your shirt with the other.

“No! No! No!” you start to squirm violently in his arms, “Please!”

Steve lifts your top up and starts to lower his head to your stomach, his breath making you giggle slightly, “Let me think about that… how about no!” He then blows a massive raspberry on your stomach, shaking his head to ensure you feel his stubble.

You scream very loud and laugh very hard, throwing your head back with tears in your eyes. “STEVE!” You start to hiccup as you feel him give you another raspberry, nibbling your skin lightly and rubbing his stubble on your sensitive skin.

He hears that you start to hiccup so he stop as you soon start to have silent laughter. “Okay, okay,” he releases your arms and lifts you up into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping his arms around you and cuddling you close. He looks at you, “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, still giggling from the attack. Tony sits back you and smiles at you, putting your hair behind your ear, “You sure you’re okay, kid?”

“Yeah i’m okay,” you smile at them. “I’m sorry for swearing, I’ll try to tone it down I guess.”

You squeak as you feel a poke to your side and look at Tony, smiling at you and pointing at you accusingly, “You better,” he gets up and leaves you and Steve alone.

“I’m glad that I could see that smile and laugh of yours,” you blush at Steve’s comment.

“Me too,” you look at him and smile.

“You promise to not swear as much right?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised with his pinky out. A pinky promise. You smiled at the previous memory of you and Steve making pinky promises to each other. Like when he would leave for missions, you would make me do a pinky promise to come back home.

You look at him and hook your pinky’s together, “I promise, Steve,” you smile at him.

“Good, because I will not hesitate to do that again,” he playfully threatens you.

“I know, old man,” you giggle.

You feel the air get tense as soon as you called him that. You turned towards him and saw a shine in his eyes which was never good.

“What did you just call me?”

“Uh oh,” you say and get up quickly, running away from him.

You knew that he would get you back but you didn’t care. After all, you loved to push his buttons even if it meant that he would be chasing you around the compound for a while. You have never been happier and you wouldn’t change a single thing.

[wooahaeruby]

Chapter 15: Endless Spiraling

Chapter Word Count: 4,174

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

TW: Mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, Anxiety, feeling numb, etc.

Master List | Prev | Next

The depression was tiring, but the masking of said depression when around everyone was even more exhausting. 

You were a day out from flying to Bangkok, nothing was packed for the long trip, you wouldn’t be home for two weeks with the Philippines and Singapore spots of the tour. Though it was hard to put into words, you were thankful that Jihoon understood just how off you were feeling with the bond and the unsure words you shared. He didn’t push you but all the emotions he was pushing over showed that he was worried. 

The past few days you were telling yourself that you would pack. Then you told yourself that putting it off wasn’t going to be too bad. Jihoon had asked if you needed any help but you managed to reassure him that you didn’t. Really, you didn’t think he bought it. That was a mistake, a big one, because you were still in bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like every limb was too heavy to move. There was no motivation that propelled you, there was no push to even get you to sit up. 

Jihoon had been busy with practice or studio work and based on your current state, you were glad you stopped going out a few days prior and stayed home. Everything was too draining on you physically and mentally, let alone the fake smiles and braindead small talk some of the members tried to hold with you. Thankfully you were smart enough to eat at least once per day with a little alarm that went off at dinner time so you do get up. You did manage to get through some of your work, even answered some emails so things would continue to get done in the background.

The dinner alarm was going off at this point, the blaring sound was dulled by the numbness that blanketed your brain and the lethargy in your bones. You weren’t hungry, but it would be fulfilling to eat something so no one worries about you, not that they would know since they haven’t really seen you the last few days. 

Between the ear piercing sound, a series of knocks caught your attention. Slowly you rose from your bed, each step heavier than the last and eyes unfocused as you took a peak at the doorbell that lit up at the detection of someone outside. Swaying back and forth outside the door was Minghao, bundled up in a fuzzy tan jacket to keep himself warm and something you couldn’t fully see in his hands. 

You ran a hand through your hair and fixed your shirt, checking yourself in the reflection of your phone screen before answering the door. 

When Minghao looked at you, really looked at you, eyes scanning up and down your form, he frowned but said nothing. 

“Hey!” You tried to sound as cheery as possible, a smile that didn’t properly reach your eyes spreading on your lips. “ What’s up? Why are you here?” 

“Hyung asked if I could stop over since he is working with Vernonie.” His frown deepened and you stepped aside to let him in. 

“ Oh- Why did he want you to stop over?” You furrowed your brow, dropping the fake smile, watching him kick off his shoes. He closed the door and you took notice of the plastic bag on his hand. A moment passed and he leveled you with a sympathetic gaze that had you swallowing down any spit that gathered in your mouth. “ I’m fine, I promise, I just have a lot going on in my head.” 

“He is worried.” Minghao walked right past you, going into the kitchen and placing the bag down on the counter, pulling out two containers and a small tea canister. “ Hyung asked me if I would come over and see if you needed someone to talk to.” 

You felt guilty for having worried Jihoon and now Minghao. Shuffling closer towards the kitchen and standing beside him, you watched Minghao slide a container over to you with a pair of wooden chopsticks. With a quiet murmur of gratitude, you took the container and motioned towards the couch which he gladly followed you, both taking a spot on the floor with a pillow under your butts. 

For the most part, the two of you ate in relative quiet, unsure of what to say since it already felt awkward. Not that you were awkward with Minghao, but more the fact that Jihoon sent him over to check on you. Back in the states you could hide in your apartment between work without a problem, taking all the time you needed to get over the depression. Here you couldn’t hide as easily, someone was always around or always watching. 

“ I’m sorry he sent you over here.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a tightness forming in your chest. You really didn’t want to get emotional right now but it couldn’t be helped. 

“ To be fair, Ruby-ah, I understand why he sent me over.” His expression softened and he placed his take out container down. “ Coming to a new country, not knowing many people, being overwhelmed by everything, it’s a lot for one person to handle. You have one upside with at least knowing the language.” 

Swallowing down the tears that threatened to follow, you nodded, keeping your eyes downcasted towards the floor. “ I knew uprooting my life would be hard, but constant traveling is exhausting. All the social interaction is mind numbing. I’m used to having two friends where we didn’t have to say a single word to each other and just enjoyed the quiet together. But now…” 

Minghao nodded along, sitting hands folded in his lap, listening intently. 

“ I’m not used to all the safety measures or the screaming fans or the cameras. I can’t go food shopping without security since they are scared someone will attack me again.” Sighing, you groaned, the somber feelings building up, hating that Jihoon was feeling all this now while he was trying to work. “ My life was the epitome of normal back in the states. Nine to five job, all my bills were paid, I took care of myself, I didn’t love it but I didn’t hate it. Now I have eyes on me because my name is attached to Jihoon-ah’s. And don’t even get me started on his mother hating me.” 

You weren’t expecting the quiet chuckle that escaped him but he tried to suppress the smile. “ That is still a little funny.” 

Once more you groaned. “ I have you guys to help me, which is great and I appreciate it, but it’s also an unknown territory that is hard to traverse, plus mentally and physically draining.” 

“ When I first came to Korea, my parents were so worried for me that I’d get hurt. I struggled everyday to communicate as a trainee, I didn’t know what was going on half the time.” Minghao twisted the ring around his pinky, his symbol of being in Seventeen, being with his found family. “ I was overwhelmed and tired, we got into fights, sometimes we’d be yelling at each other. We really didn’t have the best coping skills. A lot of us were probably depressed. At first, when we debuted, we weren’t in the spotlight, we didn’t understand the fame that we’d grow into. Now, it’s still overwhelming, the flashing of cameras, the interviews. Luckily we adapted into the fame a lot slower while you were thrown head first into the fire. 

It’s never going to be easy as we continue to grow with you beside us.  There are days when I’ve seen one of the guys break down because it’s all too much, there are times when they’ve locked themselves in their rooms because they need a break from us, from everything, until we have to go to a schedule, but we are still a family. We end up communicating with each other the issues we have and we get through it together. You are a part of this family now, Ruby-ah. When you need a hand, none of us will turn you away if you need someone to talk to. We will be there for you despite all the teasing and bullying. And you kinda can’t escape Jihoon-hyung since you are his soulmate.” 

With your head still focused down on the floor, you didn’t realize that tears were falling from your eyes to the ground below you. You raised a hand to wipe your eyes, biting your tongue to keep yourself from fully sobbing. Minghao hesitantly reached out and the moment his hand rested gently on your back, the dam broke and you cried. It had been a while since you had such a horrible depressive episode and the rush of emotions that overtook you was heart wrenching. 

“ Ahh- It’s okay.” Minghao panicked slightly and slowly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you the best he could into a hug. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around his thin frame and cried onto his shoulder. Somewhere between the sobbing, you apologized for getting his jacket dirty but all he did was pat the back of your head with one hand and rub your back with the other. You could feel the rumble of his chest and soon the sound of his quiet, comforting humming reached your ears. The tone was unrecognizable but as you sucked in a mucus strangled breath, it was better than calming yourself in the darkness of your room. 

“ You okay?” He asked quietly, letting you lean away from his embrace and gave a sympathetic huff of air, smiling as he used his sleeve to wipe away your tears. “ You look like a mess.” 

“ I feel like a mess.” Your voice sounded rough, feeling like a child that breathed out of their mouths when sick, sniffling to try and get some air in from your nose. 

“ Better to feel the emotions than not feel anything at all.” The reassurance made you puff out a laugh. “ Do you feel a little better?” 

You opened your mouth to answer but instead a long winded yawn left you. “ A bit, yeah. I need to start packing though so I probably will be awake for a while.” 

“You haven’t started- Do you want any help?” He was a little thrown off by that statement. 

“Nah, Nah. I think it will be okay for me to start it all on my own. Plus with all the emotions I just threw at Jihoon-ah… I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up later.” 

After helping you clean up, Minghao insisted on making you some tea before he left, specifically the one that he brought from home. It was a blend of chamomile, lavender, and mint, it was heavenly and warmed your still cold limbs. He reiterated that you could come to him if you needed, but the others are always kind enough to talk too. You gave him a hug and promised that you would reach out before he was out the door. 

Much to your tired state’s displeasure, you trudged into your room and lugged out your suitcase. Sitting on the floor beside the closet, you started to pull pieces of clothes out and folded up each item, organizing everything into specific piles to pack once you have enough for the time you would be away. You were still sniffling, grumbling that you were still congested, but at least you were getting things done since staff would be by early in the morning to get your suitcase to fly out. 

“ Ruby-ah?” Jihoon’s voice had you jumping out of your skin, breaking you from the packing trance you’ve placed yourself in. 

Whipping your head around, you were met with Jihoon standing in the bedroom doorway, worry and almost…fear written across his face. 

“ I didn’t wanna barge in earlier, but you weren’t answering the door or your phone after a while, so I used the code because I was worried something happened-” He sounded scared and the crushing feeling of his panic started to set in past the numbness from your side. 

“No- Hey.” Quickly you stood up, stumbling over your feet to reach him. “ I’m okay, I was zoned out and didn’t hear anything.” 

Placing both hands on his cheeks, feeling the bond hum under your touch, his shoulders relaxed and the panic eased away slowly. He leaned into your touch, gently holding your wrists and letting his eyes slide shut. 

“ You were really emotional earlier. Minghao-ah told me he came by and that’s why I got hit with everything you felt. Then it settled and turned into…nothing for a while, it was so weird not feeling anything- then I panicked when you didn’t answer the door because I didn’t know-”

“ Hey- Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” You leaned up on your tiptoes and rested your forehead against his. “ I was trying to get all the packing done and wasn’t paying attention to anything around me.” 

The puff of breath Jihoon let out was shaky, worry was still present in the bond but not as much as it was previously. His hands fell from your wrists to rest on your waist, pulling you closer just a tad. Nothing was said, the proximity more than enough to calm the troubling thoughts that raced through his head. 

“ I remember before I was eighteen not feeling anything.” Jihoon didn’t move away, taking slow, even breaths. “ I’ve gotten so used to feeling all your emotions that it was normal, a part of me, and I freaked out because I wasn’t used to it anymore. I thought that something was wrong or you-” 

You stopped him before he could continue, dropping down from your tiptoes and resting your head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I know.” 

The unspoken words were heavy on your heart. The panic he felt was undoubtedly reasonable. Sure, you can get violently depressed, it was inevitable, but questioning your life was something separate that you never wanted to toe the line of. You wouldn’t be surprised if he knew someone that took the final step over the line. 

“ I wouldn’t do that to you or myself.” You reassured, snuggly wrapping your arms around his waist. “ Don’t ever worry yourself with that, it will cause you more grief than needed.” 

He sighed. “It was dumb to freak out like I did.” 

“What? No, it wasn’t dumb.” Pulling back, you frowned at him. “ How dare you call my soulmate dumb?” 

Jihoon scoffed at that and managed to crack a smile at your absolutely stupid comment. “ You’re dumb.” 

Dramatically, you gasped, clutching onto whatever invisible pearls weren’t around your neck. “ How dare you call your soulmate dumb- I thought we were meant to be!” 

“I’m going to have to tolerate you for the rest of my life.” 

“ And you will love every moment of it. Now help me pack my suitcase.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Jihoon sat himself on the floor with you in front of the suitcase, helping you place all the clothes and necessary items in. With his help, it didn’t take too long to finish all the packing, as well as making sure you had everything you’d need for the long two weeks you’d be away from home. 

“ If you forget anything, we just buy it.” Jihoon gave a nod, standing up after successfully zipping up your suitcase. He reached out to help you up, smiling tenderly when you laced your fingers with his. “ Have you eaten?” 

“Yeah. Minghao-ah brought take out when he came over. Did you?” 

With a quiet hum, Jihoon nodded. “ Vernonie got us food. I should head back to the dorm and see if I have any last minute things I need to get together.” 

“ Can I come?” 

The dorm was…a lot more clean than you honestly expected. Through videos and interviews, Soonyoung is an absolutely messy person but the floors were relatively clean outside of the suitcases littering the living room. You guessed the cleanliness was thanks to Seungkwan or Jeonghan since Jihoon wasn’t always home. 

You recognized a corner of the living room Jeonghan had used as a background for live streams plenty of times and the coffee table he sat at. Jihoon waited for you to kick your shoes before moving further into the apartment, the simple sound of feet against the hardwood catching your ear.

“ Oh-” Seungkwan came walking down the hallway, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw you with Jihoon. “ Welcome to the eighth floor dorm.” 

“It’s cleaner than I thought.” You snickered. 

“ Don’t go into Soonyoung-hyung’s room. It’s like an explosion went off and things are everywhere.” 

“Note taken.” You chuckled now, letting Jihoon lead you down the hall past Seungkwan.

“ Don’t have too much fun in there, kids!” Seungkwan called over his shoulder while Jihoon followed with a ‘ shut up!’ before the door to Jihoon’s room was opened and closed behind you. 

One flick of the switch lit up the mostly bare and simple room, black and white the overall scheme that didn’t surprise you. Blankets were haphazardly made and his backpack was tossed open near the foot of his bed. The desk tucked in the corner only held a lamp and a closed sleek, black laptop with a mousepad and mouse beside it. 

“ I really only sleep here so there isn't much.” He grabbed his backpack and pulled his ipad out from under the pillow and tossed it in.

“And game.” You walked over towards the desk and lifted the gaming mouse. 

“ Not as much as I used to, being too busy.” 

Taking a seat on the bed, you watched him shuffle around, tossing different wires and a pair of headphones from his desk onto his bed beside you. The quiet that settled between you was soothing and you helped wrap up any of the wires so they weren’t tangled in a knotted mess. He swung the door open and stepped across the hall, knocking on the door across from his room. 

“ What?!” Soonyoung’s voice was heard on the other side before the sound of something thudding on the floor.  

“ Give me my apple watch back.” 

“I don’t- I don’t have it-” Soonyoung stammered, shifty eyes looking at everything but Jihoon currently. 

“ Do I need to use my phone to get the alarm off? I know you took it when I was charging it in the studio.” 

“No!” Soonyoung turned quickly and grabbed the aforementioned apple watch and handed it to Jihoon who was holding out his hand expectantly. 

“ Why do you even take this to begin with?” 

“It was Seokminie’s idea and he was bored. He offered me ten-thousand won if I got it.” 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” Soonyoung only gave a child-like smile that made you want to squish his cheeks before Jihoon stepped away. “ Ruby-ah is here and you didn’t tell me?!” 

Pushing the shorter man aside, Soonyoung bounded into the room, popping onto the bed, causing you to bounce a bit with a laugh. “ Hello, Soonyoungie.” 

“I’ve missed having you at practice!” He tossed his arm around your shoulder, wiggling back and forth. “ I don’t have anyone that I can teach dances to anymore.” 

“ I haven’t been feeling the best.” You said honestly. “ I took some time to myself.” 

Soonyoung rubbed your shoulder and nodded. “ I get it. Sometimes being alone is nice when you feel down, but we are always here if you need an ear.” 

“Thank you, Soonyoungie.” Giving him a nudge with your elbow, you smiled. “ I’ll make sure to remember that.” 

“Get out, your presence is annoying.” Jihoon motioned towards the door. 

“ Wah- Do you see how mean he is to me, Ruby-ah? Tell your soulmate to stop being so mean to me.” 

“I think I will stay out of that one, bud. ” Giving him a pat on the leg, Soonyoung pouted and stood. 

“ I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.” 

“I’m not even betraying you!” 

“How rude.” Just as childish as his smile was earlier, Soonyoung stomped out of the room and closed his room, sighing dramatically on the other side. 

“ I need to move out.” Jihoon closed his door and all you did was laugh, 

“He is endearing.” 

“Yeah yeah…” He replied, continuing to pack his backpack, sliding his laptop in with all the other necessities he’d need. “ Sometimes he is like a leech.” 

“A very…cute leech.”  

“ You get out too.” He sent you a pointed glare and a pout that had you falling back onto his mattress laughing. “ He isn’t cute, he is annoying.” 

“Oh come on! He isn’t too annoying, plus being cute is subjective.” Shifting to lay on your side and watch him shuffle around the room, pulling things out from his built in closet. 

“ Only you would think that he of all people was cute.” 

“To be fair, I was a Carat first.” 

He turned to throw a bundled up sweatshirt directly at your head but you just barely managed to grab it before it hit you. 

“With a Cheol bias. ” You added and he reached over your head for the pillow and beat you with it. You let out a high pitched squeal and tried to stop him but he didn’t relent. Through the pelting, you could make out the smile on his face and the joy that fluttered through his side of the bond. “ I give up! I’m sorry!” 

“ You deserve this! I already have to hear it enough from 95 line!” He was laughing, full of heart and carefree enjoyment. “ I don’t need you teasing me too!” 

“That’s my job.” You cackled, managing to watch his wrists finally and stopping the constant assault. “ I can’t be boring.” 

“You can sure as hell be annoying.” Jihoon let the pillow drop onto your face when he released it, snorting out another quiet laugh. “ Why do I put up with you?” 

Removing the pillow from your face, you hugged it to your chest, smirking. “ Because you likeeeeee me~” 

“ What did you say to Hyung once? Oh, get over yourself?” Jihoon gave a heavy roll of his eyes, standing at the side of the bed, looking down at you. “ And if I said I did like you? 

With the smirk only growing on your face, you sat up, “ Then I don’t see a problem with anything, Jihoon-ah.” 

Whatever Jihoon was feeling right now, you couldn’t put a proper word to it. It made your heartbeat a little faster, your limbs feel a little lighter, and the moment all the sweeter. It wasn’t uncomfortable, maybe a little intense with the overwhelming feelings you had earlier, but you didn’t want it to cease. Though the physical touch you’ve shared was warm and buzzing under your skin, your soul felt warm, like the sunshine that follows after a hurricane. Nothing previously has felt so…secure and refreshing. 

When you stood up, Jihoon barely stepped back, giving you just enough space to tilt your head back and look up at him. His hands easily found their way to your waist, steadying you as you stood on your tiptoes, arms winding around his neck. 

“ Comfortable?” He raised a brow in question. 

“ I will be in a moment.” 

As you closed the distance, you kissed him. This one didn’t feel as awkward as the first, it was still sweet and less hesitant. The little internal fireworks and sparks that went off earlier were just as energizing, but nothing as internally explosive. The hands on your waist gripped a tad tighter and Jihoon didn’t hesitate to keep you close to stay in the moment. In your opinion, it felt right. You craved the feeling the kiss gave but you craved just being close with him. He was a safe space, someone you couldn’t hide from, and he was your soulmate , he was meant for you. 

When you both pulled away, your cheeks were hot and his face was red. Standing flat on your feet now, looking up at Jihoon through your lashes and you knew you had a dumb smile spread on your features. Your hands were still linked around his neck, keeping him from taking a step away, not that he seemed ready to move with how he held you. He still looked tired but calm. The worry he felt was long gone and that still unknown feeling was strumming quietly behind the contentment you both shared. 

“ Comfortable now?” 

“Hm..maybe. Might need another kiss.” 

“You’re lucky you are cute.” 

“Nope, I’m lucky you like me.”

[jjtheresidentbaby]

hi! pls dont feel pressured into doing this!! but could u write aunt may with little!reader who's been lately regressing more often and in a younger headspace and they feel bad abt it-

so one day little!reader just went quiet the whole day not playing their toys not asking for anything, just quiet. And its so uncharacteristicly not them! so May finds out whats happening and comforts lil!reader thank you!<3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ I’m sure ໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

|| aunt may & reader

a/n: this got extremely self indulgent hope you don’t mind — also hi I’ve been gone for awhile but I swear I’m still working on requests and trying to write more, I’ve just had a lot going on lately and haven’t found as much motivation to write

warnings : reader being insecure about their regression, nicknames, reader is referred to as ‘bug’ cause I think that’s something may & peter would use :), slight baby talk

-

May chews on her bottom lip watching where you sit on the couch, there’s a movie going but she can tell you haven’t been paying attention to it, you seem caught up in your head. As you have for the past week or so.

She had noticed the change almost immediately and tried to give you moments where you could tell her what was wrong in subtle ways; taking you to ice cream just the two of you, walking in the park with no distractions around, spending a few extra minutes combing your hair in the morning— none of it seems to be working. Even Peter has noticed your drop in energy and enthusiasm about playing with your toys or wanting to help cook dinner like you normally do.

It’s what May’s doing right now, most nights it’s you and May cooking while Peter’s out on patrol so he’ll have a warm meal to come home to. It doesn’t feel the same not having you next to her as she stirs vegetables around in an oiled pan, you weren’t there to list off each vegetables name or measure out the oil and May thinks it’s making the food look a little depressing.

She sighs and clicks the stove off, shaking her head to herself before turning towards the living room. She can’t take how quiet the normally loud and busy apartment is.

“Bug? Can I talk to you for a minute?” Your head turns to May with a nod as she slides onto the couch beside you.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit quiet lately and I just wanted to ask if everything’s alright? You know you can talk to me about anything.” A reassuring smile spreads over May’s face, staying quiet for a second to give you time to process the question and think your answer over. She knows when you regress it can be more difficult to answer heavier questions as quickly as you normally would.

“M’okay. Just feel kinda bad.” Her brow furrows as one of her hands comes to cup your cheek, concern clear as day on her face.

“Feel bad about what honey?”

“I’ve felt smaller then usual, I don’t like it.” You huff and May shakes her head.

“Why don’t you like it? You know I’ll watch over you no matter what.” It’s something that you joke about often, how May can’t refuse any caregiving role when her nephew is a boy that can climb on ceilings at any moment he so pleases.

“Can’t do as much when I’m smaller, I need more help and stuffs.” You shrug, shoulders hunched in a way that makes Mays chest ache.

“Oh sweetheart I’ll always help you, you regressing younger doesn’t change how much I love taking care of you.” Her thumb brushes softly against your cheek, eyes wide and caring when you look up to meet them.

“You sure?” You ask quietly. May’s mouth falls slightly ajar before she pulls you into her arms, squeezing tight like she does with every hug, tucking her chin atop your head with a shaky breath.

“Of course I’m sure, I’d never stop taking care of you.” You nuzzle a little further into May with a nod, letting yourself relax into her hold, letting the anxiety you’ve felt for weeks slip away and the comfort May brings replace it.

“Now, wanna come help make dinner Bug? Peter should be home soon.”

[lovingviolet]

Hi! So, if you're taking requests I would like to make a request I'm not forcing you to do it but, possibly maybe An relationship which is like enemies to lovers with Rowan laslow?? Also can it be Male x Female please? The reader can be anything ^^

i am taking requests! so if you have any let me know <3

————————————————————————————————��—

rowan laslow x fem!reader

———————————————————————————————————

To everyone else at school Rowan was just a timid loser but to y/n he was more than that. At first Rowan didn’t think to speak to her when she transferred to nevermore. Until he saw that she was on top of the academics list, right where his name used to be

Y/n wasn’t sure how her academic rivalry started with Rowan. To her it just seemed to happen out of no where. It started off as racing to raise their hands before the other to teasing comments and bickering

As the bell finally rung, their teacher passed out the test they had taken last week. She looked down at her most recent test, her heart dropped seeing the score. She had gotten a fifty percent, she had been slacking on studying that week but she didn’t think it would be this bad.

She glanced over at Rowan noticing his eyes were already on her. Seeing him grinning only turned her shock into anger. He held up his paper showing the ‘100%’ in bold red ink. that asshole couldn’t wait to show off his perfect test score.

“Seems like you’ve lost your touch y/n” Rowan said placing his test inside of his backpack as the two left the classroom. She rolled her eyes with a huff, she should’ve expected for him to get a perfect score.

“I can assure you that this is a one time thing, i just didn’t have the time to study. I actually have a social life so I can’t devote all my time to studying”

“And look at where that’s gotten you” Rowan responded.

If she was being honest, she enjoyed the teasing back and forth. It only motivated her to do better. She also enjoyed talking to Rowan even if most of their conversations were comparing grades.

“if you’re sooo educated on the subject why don’t you teach it me, hm?”. She wasn’t expecting for Rowan to agree but he did. He instructed her to meet him at his dorm at eight.

“don’t be late” Rowan said as he quickly walked away to get to his next class. she had noticed he looked a bit flustered when telling her to meet with him later on. everyone knew Rowan wasn’t really popular so there was a possibility she was the first person he’s invited to his dorm.

later on, she showed up to Rowan’s dorm room as instructed, purposely showing up two minutes late. she knocked on the door and waited patiently for Rowan to open the door. he peaked his head out, almost looking surprised that she actually showed up.

“you’re late” Rowan says opening the door fully. this was the first time she’d seen Rowan without his neatly placed hair and his uniform. his hair was a bit all over the place but it didn’t look bad, he looked cute.

“but you still let me in” y/n teased, stepping into the room. he closed the door as she looked around the dorm. Xavier’s side was covered in artwork and music posters while Rowan’s was bare. “your side is pretty boring”

“did you come here to judge my room or to study?”

after about two hours of studying she had gotten bored. usually she could study for hours upon hours but this subject was so boring. “i need a break” she yawned out standing up from the chair and stretching out her arms.

“We haven’t even been studying for that long. it makes sense to me now why you failed that test” Rowan said standing from his chair well. He had started up the back and forth between them again about who’s smarter. She hadn’t noticed how little the space was between them until the bickering died down and they both had went quiet.

It seemed as if they had both been thinking about it for a while by how naturally they leaned into each other. they both inched closer until their lips finally touched. she hadn’t realized how much she wanted this until now. How badly she had wanted to kiss the guy that she had been teasing and arguing with for months. Rowan placed his slight shaking hands onto her waist as the kiss deepened. She definitely wasn’t expecting for things to turn out this way.

the two pulled away looking at each other with the same shocked yet flustered expression. “is this a good time to say that i like you?”

“i think you’re smart enough to answer that on your own”

———————————————————————————————————

i’m sorry this is so short and kinda bad lol

[i-write-and-therefore-i-am]

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Seven)

Hi. I know it's been quite a long time since I last updated this story, I'm sorry guys! If there's anyone still interested, here's a new chapter, just for you! This is partially motivated by Season 2 dropping, and partially by intense nostalgia from rereading what I had already written. I have an outline for the last chapters, but I'm still trying to decide how to split them up. I can't promise how soon I'll be posting more after this, but I can guarantee it will be sooner than last time! Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you love this chapter as much as I do <3 (Pst! Here’s the AO3 version!)

First-Previous-Next

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: A group of kids stop Armageddon (offscreen). A deadbeat dad shows his face. Aziraphale almost has a panic attack.

Warnings: Unsure, please let me know if any pop out at you! I wrote the first part of this chapter 3 years ago, and finished it tonight, so please forgive me if you spot any yucky parts. 

Word Count: 4,714

Tadfield Airbase, some weeks later…

Crowley was well aware that things were far from being over. He knew exactly how much Hell had been itching for a do-over, that they were still licking their wounds from the Great War. Adam and his friends had stopped Armageddon, something that would not go unpunished by both sides. If Heaven and Hell wanted a war, they would get one. It was only a matter of time.

They were all standing around in the lull between banishing the Four Horsemen and the next Big Thing, doing the dreaded, but inevitable small talk thing with each other. Crowley ignored most of it, staying on high alert. He was soon rewarded for his diligence in the form of an enormous bolt of purple lightning striking the ground not ten feet away from where the group was standing. Simultaneously, the ground began to break apart and crumble in a small patch beside the spot where the lightning had touched down, seemingly being forced up by something moving from below the pavement. They all gasped, stepping away from the new developments. Everyone except for Adam and Anathema. Newt was trying to pull his new girlfriend back, but she stayed, feet planted firmly where they were. Adam just looked.

Adam watched as a tall, dark shape began to form in the lightning, and something broke through the ground next to it and continued to rise. The rising form turned out to be Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies. Adam did not know how he knew this, but he did. The other form was not just one person, but two. An Angel, Gabriel, Adam thought, and a woman. Adam frowned. Gabriel seemed to be holding the woman up by her hair! That didn’t look very nice. The Demon and the Angel glared at each other before marching forwards, Gabriel dragging the groaning woman behind him.

Aziraphale couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him when he saw the state you were in. Once Gabriel had gotten close enough, he threw your limp body to the ground, shaking out his hands as though he had been touching something quite foul. Aziraphale was already halfway to you, shrugging off his coat to cover your ripped and dirty clothes. He gathered you into his arms, mindlessly healing all your scrapes and cuts, taking your bloody wrists in his to press cooling miracles into the wounds there. The look he gave Gabriel could have sent him straight to Damnation, if Aziraphale had been concerned with anything other than your wellbeing. You whimpered and fell fully into Aziraphale’s embrace.

“What did you do to her?” Aziraphale demanded of the Archangel, feeling his blood boil in rage. “Her clothes are soaking wet!”

Gabriel grinned shrugging as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, and he could feel Crowley bristling at his side.

“Oh, I haven’t done anything to your precious little pet. You know me, Azi, I don’t like getting my hands bloody. You know, unless there’s a war on. A divine, righteous war that you…people had no right getting in the way of!”

If Aziraphale hadn’t been holding you, he would’ve lunged at him. As it was, he could feel your shivering getting worse, so he wrapped his coat tighter around you and brought you closer to his chest, burying his face into your messy hair. He was thankful you were alive, anyway. Seeing how the angels had treated you doubled the guilt he felt for not dropping everything to scour creation looking for you. Although he knew it was the right choice, later, he would look at every single cut, scrape, and abrasion on your body, thinking that if he had gotten to you, if he hadn’t gone to Tadfield instead, that you would be whole. You would be healthy and happy, far away from all of this mess. As it was, you were right smack in the middle of Armageddon, completely and utterly clueless about what was happening.

Meanwhile, you had gradually been coming back to consciousness, the jolt from being thrown onto the concrete doing most of the heavy work for you. The first thing you noticed was the smell—like wool and tea and old books. A familiar smell that you couldn’t quite place, so you opened your eyes to find your vision blocked by a wall of light tan. Your pain-addled brain was slow to recognize what had happened, but once it did, you couldn’t help yourself from bursting into tears.

“Aziraphale! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…they just took me! I sw-swear I didn’t tell them anything, honest—”

“Hush, now! Don’t be silly!” Aziraphale was aghast. Here you were, after Heaven only knows what you had gone through, and you were apologizing! To him! He began rubbing soothing circles onto your back, cooing softly, and quieting your crying. As if he needed more proof that he did not deserve someone like you.

“Oi! Do you think you could get her to stop bawling?” Aziraphale lifted his head to see Lord Beelzebub snarling at the pair of you. Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself from staring as a fly landed right on her eyeball and crawled back into the socket. Shuddering, Aziraphale forced his gaze away from the disgusting sight.

“Surely you can understand, Your Highness, with her having just been tortured and all.” Crowley answered, speaking over whatever was about to come out of Aziraphale’s mouth. He knew his friend, and he recognized the same ancient anger that he had felt from Aziraphale the night they had gone to your empty flat. If Aziraphale had had the wherewithal to keep him from burning half of Heaven to find their girl, then Crowley could, at least try and do the same. For now. Beelzebub sneered at him but turned back to the conversation.  

“Now. Adam. Listen to me.” The Prince of Hell was bending over in front of the Son of Satan, looking him straight in his eyes. Adam had to stop himself from scrunching his nose at the rank smell that was rolling off her in waves. He stared at her, waiting for her to speak. “When this is over, you’re going to get to rule the world! Don’t you want to rule the world, boy?”

This was a question that every child has thought of at least once. The ultimate, most interesting question one could ask themselves. Adam, being who he was, hadn’t thought about it at all until the past few months, as things in the world had gotten stranger and stranger. After reading the Antiquarian magazines, after finally learning about all the stuff that was really happening, everything that was wrong with the world, Adam knew that he wanted to fix it. Get rid of the nuclear plants! Welcome the aliens to Earth! Adam would fix everything. Hearing Lord Beelzebub say that he really could rule the world and all he would have to do would be to listen to the voices in his mind that he had been resisting all this time was tempting, to say the absolute least.

But then Adam looked around him at the strange group of people that had gathered together to stop that very thing from happening. The two Angels and the two Demons, the witch and the witchfinders, the fortune teller…and his friends. He knew for a fact that he had scared them witless with how he had behaved towards them. Despite how horribly he had treated them, they were here with him—they had his back. He grinned at them, and they grinned back. He turned to the Prince.

“It’s hard enough to have to think of things for Pepper and Wensley and Brian to do all the time so we don’t get bored. I’ve got all the world I want, right here.” His friends cheered, while Gabriel and Beelzebub looked positively murderous. Gabriel huffed and waving his hands around angrily.

“Well, you can’t just refuse to be who you are,” he informed Adam. “Your birth, your destiny, they’re part of the Great Plan—”

Aziraphale stopped fretting over you when he heard those damnable words. The Great Plan. Poppycock. How many times has that phrase been used over the millennia to excuse all sorts of shit? As he listened to Gabriel and Beelzebub squabbling over not getting their war, he was hit with a sudden realization. It was something that had crossed his mind from time to time, but he had always dismissed it outright because…because of what, exactly? Righteousness? Fear? Was he afraid to acknowledge something so huge that it would shake the very foundations of his faith? He turned and gestured to Madame Tracy, who had been watching the proceedings with varying degrees of horror and fascination. Her heels clicked on the pavement as she hurried over, and it occurred to Aziraphale that he had inhabited that body not one hour ago. What a strange thought.

“What is it, my dear?” Tracy asked kindly. Aziraphale waved her closer to where he was sitting with you half across his lap.

“Tracy, would you mind terribly if I asked you to watch Y/N for a moment?” Tracy immediately got down on the ground beside him, reaching for your still weak body and pulling you gently towards her. She could see Mr. Shadwell inching closer out of the corner of her eye, but she focused on you.

“Oooh, you poor dear. We’ll have you right as rain as soon as all of this nonsense is over with!” She assured you, squeezing your hand. You sneezed and groaned.

Aziraphale rose to his feet, brushing the dirt and grit off of his trousers, and strode over to the rest of the group. He cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Ahem. Um, excuse me, you…keep talking about the Great Plan,” he began. Gabriel did not look at him when he replied,

“Aziraphale, maybe you should just keep your mouth shut.” Aziraphale had no intention of doing anything of the sort.

“One thing I’m not sure I’m clear on just yet. Is that the Ineffable Plan?” Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a confused and irritated look with each other.

“The Great Plan!” Beelzebub insisted, her voice going sort of staticky in her frustration. “It is written! There shall be a world, and it shall last for 6,000 yearzzz and end in fire and flame!”

“Yes, yes that sounds like the Great Plan.” He paused, smiling warmly at the two entities. “Just wondering, is that the Ineffable Plan as well?”

There was a short silence.

“Well, they’re the same thing!” Gabriel sounded a lot less confident than he had before. Crowley couldn’t believe it. All of this fighting. All of this uncertainty, and running around England searching for the bleeding Antichrist, trying to stop the unstoppable war and the two people in charge of the whole affair didn’t even know if God wanted it in the first place. You couldn’t make this drivel up, you really couldn’t.

“You don’t know,” Crowley was incredulous. He looked at Aziraphale and he knew that they were on the exact same page. He smirked. “Uh, well, it’d be a real pity if you’d thought you were doing what you thought the Great Plan said, but you were actually going against God’s Ineffable Plan. I mean, everyone knows the Great Plan, yeah? But the Ineffable Plan…” He licked his lips with his forked tongue. “Well, it’s ineffable, isn’t it? By definition we can’t know it.” Gabriel and Beelzebub looked stricken.

“But…it izzz written?” Beelzebub buzzed, disheartened. Crowley nearly felt sorry for the poor things, all the work they had put in, all for naught. Then he thought about all the work he had put in and found he didn’t care about their feelings anymore.

“God does not play games with the Universe.” Gabriel tried in a tone that sounded resolutely final, but with an expression that looked like someone had just broken his favorite toy. Crowley couldn’t help himself from laughing out loud at that one.

“Where have you been?” he asked in between chortles. The two of them stepped away from the group to have their own little conversation. Crowley watched as Aziraphale returned to his post at your side, nodding his thanks to the strange red-headed woman he had been when Crowley had first reunited with him. Gabriel and Beelzebub couldn’t resist one last threat directed towards Adam before they both blinked out of the world. That was that over, then, onto the next one.

You had been watching all this taking place from your spot on the cold, wet ground. Aziraphale’s coat and arms had been warm enough, but you couldn’t even focus on your own body with everything that was going on. You had never felt more confused in your life, surrounded by complete strangers, except for Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale. The people who had taken you, they’d called themselves Angels, had known who he was, and had known about Crowley too. They had called Aziraphale an Angel, too, and Crowley a demon. They had demanded any and all information that you had concerning either one of them, but you had no idea what they were talking about. At first, you assumed that Aziraphale was secretly in some deep trouble with some strange crime syndicate, like a Godfather sort of thing. But the longer you stayed on that chair, the more you had begun to realize that these angels were…well, they were Angels. And that meant that Aziraphale was an Angel too.

________________________________________________________________

Of all the things you’d expected to happen to you, meeting actual Satan was not high on that list. After the shock of Aziraphale, Crowley, and …Adam(?) blinking in and out of existence, you were greeted by the deep rumbles and sharp smell of burnt earth announcing the arrival of the Great Adversary. Here. In the flesh. About a million feet taller than you, with only his top half poking out of the actual ground, Satan cast an extremely intimidating figure. Your heart stopped when Adam, a boy that couldn’t even be in his teens yet, stepped up to the Ruler of Hell and gave him a piece of his mind. Apparently, Adam was Satan’s son, and had never even seen his own father for the entirety of his life. Typical. Adam sent his father straight back to where he had come from. Once the pavement had patched itself up, a small, red car came tearing through the lingering smoke. The door opened, and out stepped a very cross, middle-aged man.

“Can anyone tell me, what exactly is going on?” He demanded. It turned out that this man was also Adam’s father, which was very confusing. The children all migrated over to him, and the rest of them stayed back, assessing the damage, and waiting to see if it all really was over. You watched as the young couple embraced almost forcefully; the man’s glasses being pushed askew with how…passionate his partner was being with her kisses. The red head and the old man with the Dr. Seuss-ian gun-thing were standing awkwardly next to each other, but you could see their hands brushing each other ever so slightly. Your boys had examined each other, and were now making their way over to you, Aziraphale not even bothering to hide his worry while Crowley sauntered along behind him.

“You alright, Y/N?” Crowley nearly could’ve convinced you that he wasn’t concerned about you, if it wasn’t for the serious expression on his face that completely belied the casual way he had spoken. Aziraphale stayed quiet, seemingly unable to meet your gaze. You looked back at Crowley.

“I’ve been better.” You paused. Aziraphale and Crowley had hidden this part of themselves from you, their true selves, one could say. Now that Crowley wasn’t wearing his glasses, you could see that he had sickly yellow eyes with slits for pupils. Aziraphale didn’t seem any different, but after what the Angels had told you, and what you had seen in the nightmares they had given you, he was hiding some very impressive wings under that trench coat. What were you supposed to do with this information now? The two people you had grown to love more than anyone else weren’t even human, apparently, and they had kept that from you the whole time you had known them. What else could they be lying about?

Immediately, you felt awful for even entertaining such a terrible thought. You knew it wasn’t like that. You could tell just by the look of pure remorse on Aziraphale’s face. Crowley was too much of a sweetheart at his core to hurt you needlessly. You wouldn’t treat them any different at all. You would accept them for who they were, just as they had accepted you with all your faults. You lifted a shaky arm towards the pair, pulling yourself back into the moment.

“Help me up?” They didn’t hesitate to come forwards, Crowley going to one side and Aziraphale going to the other to lift you as gently as they could off the ground. You groaned quietly as your aching body was made to move, but your boys held onto you, letting you lean on them for support. The moment he was sure that you wouldn’t collapse on them, Crowley dropped his hands and stepped back to where he had been before. Aziraphale did not. His fingers dug into the fabric around your waist almost as if he were afraid to let you go. You remembered the last time you had seen him, when he told you that he loved you and how reluctant he had been to let you leave even then. You turned around so that he was now holding you properly in his arms and placed your hands on his chest.

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale startled and looked straight at you for the first time, completely bewildered. His grip on you lessened quite a bit, but he still did not let go.

“Y-you’re asking me if I’m alright? Have you seen yourself?”

“No, actually, but I’d imagine I’m not looking too hot at the moment.” Aziraphale appeared to have lost the power of speech. He sputtered, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while trying to find the words, any words, to say.

“Not too hot?! I can’t believe you, I really can’t. After everything—”

“You know, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t mention it, if you don’t mind.” You interrupted. “I promise I will let you therapize and rehabilitate me to your heart’s content later, but right now, I just want to make sure that you’re alright.”

The process of Aziraphale understanding what you had said was clear in the expressions on his face. At first, he was still baffled at your seemingly blasé attitude towards your kidnapping and torture. Then, you could see the change in him as he slowly realized what you had said. You knew it had clicked when Aziraphale’s mouth dropped open, and you had to hide your amusement when his eyes widened in genuine surprise. You evidently hadn’t been fast enough because Aziraphale quickly attempted to reel himself in, blinking and clearing his throat. He swallowed audibly.

“So…you…what I mean to say is—” He cut himself off. He bit the inside of his cheek, but you could tell that he was trying to hide the way his lips had begun to tremble ever so slightly. “After everything, you aren’t…you…you want to see me again?” Your heart broke at how shyly hopeful he sounded. You grinned, lifting your hands to frame his beautiful face. One of his hands flew to cover yours, his thumb stroking your knuckles absentmindedly.

“Of course, you silly man. Though I suppose I should call you Angel, now, huh?”

“I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am about that, Y/N. I wanted to tell you, truly I did. I even planned to more than once, but I could never summon the courage. I will never forgive myself for what they did to you, those horrible, vile—” He broke off when you lifted onto your tip toes to press your lips to his cheek. He stared down at you in shock.

“We don’t have to talk about any of that right now, Azi. Really, we don’t have to talk about it at all, although I know you’ll need to get it off your chest eventually. I’m just glad that I have my boys back. All the rest, we can deal with later.”

Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself. He had waited all these months pinning for you, never once thinking that you could possibly feel the same. And then, on the night he had tried to force you to leave him by saying all those wicked things, you’d told him that you loved him too. After weeks of not knowing where you were, but not being able to look for you, after seeing what the angels had done to you, after feeling you here, alive and in his arms and looking at him like that, he couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head and leaning down to (finally) plant a kiss on your lips.

Your reaction was instant. Your hands dropped from his face to go around his neck, pulling him farther down so that you could feel his lips more fully against your own. He pulled you in closer, feeling the desperate urge to never let you out of his sight again. You sighed into the kiss, prompting Aziraphale to put a slow and reluctant end to it. You were still in public, after all, with an audience. The both of you pulled apart, unwilling to end the moment. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes before you did and took great joy in being able to watch your serene face for the few moments your eyes stayed shut. He felt a sharp pang in his heart as your eyelids fluttered open, almost as though you had just awoken from a very pleasant dream. Your smile could have lit up a room, and it was all for him. He almost couldn’t take it. He could feel Crowley’s excitement radiating off of him, but he ignored his friend. You were the only thing that mattered. He raised a hand to tuck a bit of your hair behind your ear, smiling serenely down at you.

“So…what does this mean, then?” You asked, hating that you had to interrupt the moment that you were having, but needing to know the answer. After everything, you needed Aziraphale in your life more than ever, and if he didn’t feel the same, now was the time to break it off. You couldn’t wait around for him to stop being afraid to love you, you needed it to happen now.

Aziraphale wanted to say many things, but something was holding him back. He frowned inwardly, confused. What was making him hesitate? Every inch of his body wanted to fly to you, to stay wrapped protectively around you until the Universe finally burned into nothing. But there was some small, wriggling thing trying to grasp his attention, fluttering around on the wind—

That damned prophecy! “When alle is fayed and all is done, ye must choose your faces wisely, for soon enouff ye will be playing with fyre”. Fire…Aziraphale had to talk to Crowley about it. He couldn’t quite parse it on his own, although the “faces” part was fairly straightforward. He refocused his attention on you, and felt his heart twinge at the mix of emotions on your face.

“My deepest apologies, dearest, I was lost in thought. What this means—” he took your face in both of his hands, holding you as the precious gift you were, “Is that Crowley and I unfortunately have one very small thing that we must take care of to ensure that any loose ends get tied up. After we have finished with that…”

Aziraphale trailed off. All of his insecurities, all of his doubts that he wasn’t good enough for you, that you would turn him away, especially after what his kind had done to you, raced to the forefront of his mind and stopped his mouth. You frowned a little, but slowly, realization dawned on you and your expression turned sad. You lifted your hands to cover his.

“Aziraphale, listen to me. I love you. I will continue to love you for the foreseeable future. I want to be with you. I just…I need to know if that’s what you want, too. If it’s not, I will understand, but I can’t keep waiting, Azi. I need you to tell me what—”

You were interrupted by Aziraphale’s lips crashing into yours once again, this time with much more urgency, like he was trying to answer you with the kiss. Before you could sink into the kiss, he pulled away, his eyes wide.

“Of course that’s what I want, my darling. I will stay by your side for as long as you will have me. I love you too, and I am so very sorry for everything—” You stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“Shh. I said I don’t want to talk about that right now.” You dropped your hands and grinned. “Well, I suppose you’ll be stuck with me forever then.”

The smile that Aziraphale gave you was so utterly pure that it almost broke your heat.

“Then I suppose I am fortunate that there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with, aren’t I?”

________________________________________________________________

The swap had gone perfectly. Each side was completely bamboozled by their trick, and equally terrified of the possibilities it implied. Crowley had been absolutely chuffed at how well his plan had gone off. Aziraphale was equally pleased to be done with the whole situation—that is, at least until the next Big Thing showed itself. But for now, everything was put to rights.

Nearly everything, that is.

Crowley hadn’t even needed to ask before dropping Aziraphale off at your apartment, where they had left you. Even after your conversation on the airfield, Aziraphale could feel his nerves skyrocket as Crowley pulled into park in front of the building. He tried to even his breathing, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“Angel, you’re going to hyperventilate” said Crowley, unhelpfully. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I know that, thank you.” Aziraphale loved Crowley, he really did, but sometimes the Demon’s lack of a bedside manner really irritated—oh. Aziraphale looked down to wear Crowley had put his hand on top of Aziraphale’s trembling one. He looked over at his friend, whose head was turned away from Aziraphale, towards the driver side window.

“Listen, Angel. You’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m frankly surprised that she still wants you after everything—” Aziraphale yanked his hand out from under his friend’s and moved to get out of the car.

“Really, Crowley, you’re not helping.”

“No, Aziraphale, listen to me.” Crowley sounded annoyed now, and when Aziraphale looked back at him, the Demon was staring back at him. 

“She loves you. Despite everything that has happened, she wants to stay with you. That means a lot, Angel. You’ve got something real special with her, you know. Almost as special as us. I know you’ll want to have a therapy sesh with her, but promise me you’ll hold off on that until you’ve had a proper reunion alright? She just needs you to be with her right now. She doesn’t need Aziraphale the Angel, she needs her Azi. Make sense?”

Aziraphale didn’t notice until Crowley stopped talking, but he had apparently started crying during Crowley’s speech, and now he reached up to wipe his tears away. On pure impulse, he reached out to pull his oldest friend into a tight hug, putting all of his love and gratitude into the embrace. After a few moments, he felt Crowley awkwardly tap his shoulder and Aziraphale pulled back, knowing how important personal space was to the other being.

“Thank you, dear boy.” With that, he got out of the car and headed to the apartment, pausing to wave goodbye to Crowley. Aziraphale took a deep breath and rung the bell to your flat.

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