#I wish I made better friends faster I wish my job sucked less

[didnt-hear-cold-as-you-live]

the first resume to a job in Melb has been sent, though :') and I've pretty set-in-stone picked when I'm leaving Queensland (could change due to The Roo, but like. I've Decided)

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Hey, idk of you are going requests but if you are can I request an Anthony Lockwood x fem caryle reader where she is Lucy's older sister who doesnt have any talents and she is very over protective off Lucy so when they come to London, she takes an immediate dislike to Anthony and George but she still tolerates them becuase Lucy wants to work for the agency. She has her own flat and she is studying to become a surgeon.

One day she gets a call from Lucy that lockwood is really hurt and he needs medical attention but he doesn't want to go to the hospital so she sucks it up and goes to help him.

I Care About You

Anthony Lockwood x f!Carlyle!Reader

Warnings: None, this is just fluff :) 💖💖💖

Summary: Y/N has to patch Lockwood up yet again, because for some reason her hates hospitals. Who is she to say no ?

A/N: I hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 I love this request so much! I thought it was so cute and I relate so much cause I'm getting a degree in medicine too :') 💖💖💖 All just to answer the question I do take requests, but I'm super slow :') 💖💖💖 Have a good day :) 💖💖💖

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"Lucy you can't keep calling me to patch your friends up, I do have a life", she frowned. The phone was balanced between her ear and shoulder. As someone who didn't have a talent, she seemed to get involved with agents a little too much. When she had heard that Lucy had left for London, she was excited. It had never occurred to her that she would be accompanied by two boys. George was quiet and a little odd at times, but he meant well. They got along relatively well. He had a lot of questions about human anatomy, but she appreciated that he looked out for her sister. Then there was Lockwood. It wasn't to say that she didn't like him. He was rash and careless, and that attitude was what got Lucy into trouble. She was worried. People who didn't know better would say that she should just avoid him. That was easier said than done, especially when he had an animosity to hospitals, which left her with the job of fixing him whenever he got hurt.

She groaned, "I know, I know, but he always insists on you and not the hospital". Her voice with laced with concern. She ran a hand through her hair.

"Well I hope he knows that I'm much less proficient in comparison to a licensed doctor", she sighed. Hastily she shoved her equipment into a rucksack, slinging it over her shoulder. He was too well aware that despite her thoughts of him and his behaviour, she would never be able to say no. She just didn't have it in her. Sometimes she wondered if he just liked having her around, but no one would put themselves through the kind of self-torture that he did just to have someone over. It seemed crazy.

"So you'll do it ?", she sounded hopeful. At least if anything, she would win her sisters favour.

She shook her head, "Fortunately for Lockwood, my moral code compels me".

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She had her gloves on, gently prodding at the blue-black patches across his face and chest. They were both silent, which was unusual for him. She chewed her bottom lip, concentrating on the gash that was on his cheek, "So, are you going to tell me how you got these ones ?".

"I don't think you want to know", he sighed. His eyes were fixed to the ground, avoiding hers. This was different. She usually couldn't get him to sit still. Her heart pounded faster. She had once wished that he would just keep quiet, now all she wanted was for him to go back to normal.

Still his lack of confidence in her made her scowl, "I see open surgery twice a week, I think I can handle it ?". His shoulder seemed to be out-of-place. She tried to move it. He looked pained, but said nothing.

"I- Alright, we were-", he turned towards her, wincing. She decided his shoulder was dislocated, but throwing yourself from a first-storey of a house could do that to someone. In fact, she was quite aware of what had happened, having received a rather detailed retelling from George and Lucy before she went to see him. She had only asked with the hope that he would snap out of whatever trance he was in, but she was clearly wrong. At least re-positioning his shoulder would.

It snapped back into place with a loud crack. "What was that for ?", his eyes were wide and he appeared distressed. She had considered giving him a warning, but decided against it in the last minute. Maybe she should have put more thought into the decision, but this was a slight improvement compared to the silence.

She tested the joint, moving his arm back and forth slightly, "Your shoulder was dislocated, I had to push it back in place". He wouldn't stop staring at her now. She looked away, cursing when her breath caught in her throat.

"You could have given me some warning", he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Experts say anticipation makes the act more painful", she dug around her bag for a roll of cotton, her back turned to him.

"Why do you hate me ?", his voice was hesitant.

This is not what she expected. She felt a burning regret in the pit of her stomach. She had always tried to keep him at arms length, not because she didn't like him, but because she liked him a little too much. She had always been alone. Not having a talent, meant not joining an agency, which meant she couldn't make money. That made her a liability and a burden to her mother, and it only got worse when Lucy left. Who could blame her when she took the first chance she could to get out. She was comfortable being alone, but of course Lockwood had something to say about that.

Gingerly she sat next to him at the edge of the bed, "I- I don't hate you, just- I'm just worried". She chanced a glimpse at him. He looked surprised. Was it that shocking ? How could she not worry ? Yes, he pestered her all the time, was conceited and rash, but he also knew all her favourite books and always had a cup of tea for her, made just the way she liked it. She wondered why he made such an effort with her, she was difficult, usually chalking it up to her being Lucy's older sister and wanting to make a good impression. She now found herself hoping there was something else behind it too.

This was starting to be more difficult than she thought it was going to be. She took a breath in, "Look, when I found Lucy again, it wasn't just her who entered my life, it was George and you too, and as much as I hate admitting this I- You keep Lucy safe and you have a big heart, which makes it hard for me to not like you". She felt stupid and vulnerable.

Spotting his grin out of the corner of her eye, she groaned, "Stop making that face".

"I didn't do anything", he protested. The look on his face said otherwise.

She had been on her own for so long. Too many people had left her, and it hurt. She had thought she would be better off without others. If she didn't take chances, she knew she'd always be safe. Now she wasn't so sure what she wanted. Maybe she had given herself enough time ? Maybe it was time for her to let someone else in ? She ran a hand across her face, "Just, let me finish- I- I care about you, so I-".

The smile fell from his face, "I- I'm sorry". He had a hand on her knee, and he sounded genuine.

A warmth spread through her, she laughed, "Just, try a little harder at not dying, alright ?".

"Alright", he scratched the back of his head. She shook her head, turning her attention back to the wound along his face, dabbing gently the cuts across his face. Perhaps she should have gone a little easier on him.

She felt his stare on her. He was smirking, "So ? You care about me ?". What had she gotten herself into ?

A heat rushed to her face, she turned away, "Shut up". He seemed to have recovered quickly enough. Once again his ego was through the roof, it didn't help that he looked terribly cute, but he didn't need to know that. Well this is what she wanted, he was acting like himself again, but now she was having second thoughts.

With his finger, he tilted her face towards his, "No, no, don't be embarrassed I care about you too, Ow-". She pressed the alcohol swab deeper into the inflamed cut. It would have hurt less than what he was making it out to be, always the dramatic one. She felt a little bad, but not so much that she was going to apologise.

His mouth was agape with his brows furrowed, "Was that really necessary?".

Probably not, but someone had to keep him in check. She grinned, "Highly".

Probably not, but someone had to keep him in check. She grinned, "Highly".

Probably not, but someone had to keep him in check. She grinned, "Highly".

[malfoysstilinski]

pretty sights | draco malfoy smut

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco walks in on you masturbating on his bed and talks you through it before finishing you off himself.

warnings: smut, female and male masturbation, fingering, eating out, praise kink but also some degradation, slight cum play, maybe more?

word count: 2.1k 

a/n: this was meant to be less than 500 words for a blurb but i got carried away--

Draco was late. The two of you had been hooking up for a few months now, right under the noses of all of your friends, and he was easily the best you’d ever had. He’d slipped you a note that morning, telling you to be in his prefect dorm by seven that night-- no excuses. 

Yet here you were, all alone, no Draco in sight at all. You sighed, shutting your eyes as you lay your body across his silk sheets. They were the same Slytherin green that he loved, making you smile a little as you skimmed your fingers across them. His scent surrounded you; the green apple of his shampoo, the expensive cologne you bought him every year for his birthday. 

It was hard not to get turned on when you thought about all of the things that had happened on this bed. All of the words he’d said to you, all of the things he’d done to you and promised to do to you again and again and again until you were sick of it. You were sure you would never get sick of Draco and his fingers or his tongue or his cock. 

Without thinking too much about it, you sighed and wriggled on his bed so your head was comforted by his pillow. Your hand snaked down past the waistband of your school skirt, past your panties, touching your cunt. Your hands were cold from the coolness of the Slytherin dungeons, making you gasp. 

“Fuck…” You whispered, arching your back slightly to get a better angle at your clit. 

Waves of arousal surged through you as you began to rub yourself, feeling it throb beneath you as wetness collected around your entrance, dampening your fingers slightly as you slid them down. Swallowing, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, small breathy whimpers leaving your lips as you thought about Draco. 

“Are you imagining those are my fingers, darling?”

You glanced up, barely phased by Draco’s silent entrance into his bedroom. He stood leaning against the door, his arms folded and his silver eyes dark. His jaw was slightly clenched as if he was restraining himself from marching over to the bed and finishing your job himself. 

“Mhm,” you gave a small hum and a nod, deciding to part your legs a little so that he could see what you were doing better. 

Draco nearly groaned at your words, his lips parting slightly as he strode over. He kneeled on the end of the large bed, grabbing your knees with his large hands and parting them even further. Your actions didn’t stop on your clit, your fingers drawing circles that he couldn’t see properly past the lacy panties that you were wearing. 

Hiking your skirt up, he then reached forward and pulled at your panties. You moved your hand so he could tug them all the way down, but quickly returned your hand. Draco’s tongue darted out and wetted his top lip, entranced by your movements. 

“Are they as good as my fingers?” Draco questioned, voice darker than usual.

“No,” you whispered, sliding your middle finger down to your entrance and thrusting it inside, curling it the best you could. “Yours are so much longer. Feel so much better inside me. Thicker and deeper.”

Draco nearly looked like he was drunk, sort of dazed as he focused on your pleasuring yourself. He’d never seen you do it before, he’d always been the one making you feel good. His cock felt hard in his trousers, throbbing as it begged to be inside of you. Draco refrained from palming himself, tracing circles on your knee as he studied you. 

“Add another finger, pretty girl,” Draco murmured, “Stretch yourself wider for me.”

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you did as you were told, sliding your ring finger inside as well. Draco’s mouth parted a little further, his hand now gripping your knee a little as you began to slide your fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He watched the way you curled them upwards, but he could tell that your own fingers didn’t do it for you like his own did. 

“Go faster,” Draco ordered, “I want to hear how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched but nevertheless you obeyed. Thrusting in and out of your cunt, you threw your head back and allowed your thumb to simultaneously rub at your clit. You wished he would take over and fuck you as hard and fast as he wanted into his green, silky sheets, but this was also arousing-- the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten already.

“Does rubbing your clit feel good, princess?” Draco whispered. 

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Pull out your fingers,” he commanded, watching with a smirk as you followed everything he said. “Let me lick them clean for you. Don’t want a drop to go to waste.”

You sat up a little, Draco moving to hover over you, his hand hand supporting his weight. You guided your fingers towards his mouth, watching as he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out slightly. A gush of wetness dampened your cunt even further, a moan escaping your lips as he took your fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly whilst looking you in the eye. 

He smirked around your fingers, the tip of his tongue cleaning you before he pulled away with a small pop. Breathlessly, you reached for him and tugged his face close to yours, your lips smashing against his. Draco’s mouth worked against yours like magic, like you were made for one another, his other hand moving to grab the back of your neck and bring you even closer.

“So good for me,” Draco muttered as he pulled away, his forehead against yours. “You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You’d do anything I say…”

“Anything,” you promise with a nod.

Draco bit his lip and then grinned, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you down against his pillows. You gasped as you looked up at him, feeling his hand snake down between your legs. He swiped a finger through your folds without breaking eye contact, causing your back to arch a little, thrusting your hips as he cupped your cunt with his large, cool hand. 

“So fucking wet…” He muttered, “Did imagining that it was me make you wanna cum, darling?”

“So bad,” you whispered. 

You were nearly cut off by two of his fingers thrusting straight into your entrance. It was so abrupt that you cried out, your head snapping backwards. The sound vibrated through the hand that Draco had wrapped around your neck, his thumb rubbing over your pulse point as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. The sounds that were being made nearly made you blush, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he curled his fingers, hitting spots that you could never reach by yourself. 

“Good girl,” Draco growled, “Such a good fucking girl for me. You know that nobody can make you cum like I do, don’t you? Not even yourself anymore. I’ve ruined you for even yourself.”

You could barely nod against him, your head too fuzzy. You felt like you were on cloud nine, small screams ripping past your lips when his thumb found your clit. He rubbed at it harshly, feeling your legs tremble. 

Draco pulled his fingers out of your cunt and retracted his hand from your throat. You squirmed as he moved down your body, grabbing your hips and pinning you down against the mattress so you couldn’t move. Your entire body shook a little as you felt him spit on your cunt. 

He moved one arm away and swirled his spit around your pussy, mixing it with your arousal before diving down. He didn’t ease you into it like normal, didn’t lick a stripe through your folds and then kitten lick at your clit, but wrapped his entire mouth around your swollen bud and began to suck. 

“Draco!” You moaned, reaching down and grabbing at his platinum hair, tugging slightly. “Fuck! Fuck, just like that…”

Draco made slurping noises and moaned against your cunt, enjoying the waves of wetness that coated his tongue as he lifted from your clit to thrust slightly at your entrance. Squeezing your eyes shut, you threw your head back and whined, desperate for some sort of release.

His moans against you grew more frequent so you lifted your head slightly, finding Draco rolling his hips against the bed. He thrusted his tongue in and out of your entrance a few times before peering up at you, silver eyes dark and hazy. 

“Have I ever told you how much eating you out fucking turns me on?” Draco muttered, grabbing your knees and yanking your legs apart again from where you had begun to squeeze them together for some sort of pressure. 

He delivered a smack to your clit, causing you to whimper. “Do not shut your legs,” he hissed, “Or I’ll leave you here alone to get off by yourself again.”

“No, no-- please,” you begged him. 

Draco’s smirk widened as he palmed himself through his trousers, bending down to suck at your clit. You felt his teeth nibble slightly, your mouth shaking as it dropped open. His hand that wasn’t currently unbuttoning his trousers moved to thrust fingers inside of you, fucking in and out of you whilst his tongue lapped you up and swirled around your swollen bud. 

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, your teeth clamping down on your lips. You peered down at him again, moaning even louder when you realised that Draco had his hand in his underwear and was pumping at his cock whilst he got you off. 

“Please let me cum,” you sobbed, “Please, Draco. I’m gonna cum!”

Draco thrusted his fingers in harsher, lapping you up quicker. His tongue was flat against your clit, his breath hitting you in the most delicious way. You felt him nod and knew that permission had been granted. It didn’t take long before you tumbled over the edge, cumming all over Draco’s tongue. Your walls squeezed at his fingers, Draco groaning into you, sending vibrations across your body. 

“So fucking hot…” He muttered as he pulled his finger out of you and kneeled between your legs.

He pushed his trousers down and pumped his cock, rubbing his hand up and down it. It looked like he was going to cum any moment, hard as ever and leaking precum. Then, Draco moved to hover over you, his hands either side of your head. You thought he was going to thrust himself inside of you and use your body until he came, but then one of his hands reached down to guide his cock through your folds. 

You whimpered, feeling his dick slide through your arousal and hit your clit. Draco thrusted his hips, rubbing his cock up and down your wet cunt, pressing into your clit every now and then. His mouth dropped open a little and then he swallowed thickly, glancing down between your bodies to watch his cock slide between your folds, hard and red and glistening with your cum. 

“Fuck, gonna cum all over your beautiful cunt,” Draco hissed, giving a few more thrusts before you felt his hot seed spill all over you. “Yeah, that’s it. Take my cum.”

Draco groaned loudly, burying his head in your neck, his lips nipping at you for a moment or two. Your hands moved to his pale back where you grazed your nails up and down his skin, thrusting your hips up to apply some more pressure to his cock. It jerked slightly when he was finished cumming and he pulled away, studying the mess that he had made all over you. 

“Fuck…” Draco muttered, “I’m not sure there’s a prettier sight than this… You covered in my cum.”

His fingers moved to swirl in his cum and he dipped them down to your entrance, thrusting it inside of you. He scooped more and did the same, painting you with it. Your body trembled and you swore, watching lazily as he rubbed your clit a few more times. You shuddered and came, this time less intense than the last, his name falling from your lips over and over again. 

“Maybe I’ll turn up late again if I get to walk in on you getting off on my bed,” Draco muttered, leaning up and brushing your hair out of your face with his clean hand. He slipped his messy one into your mouth, letting you clean it for him. “Fancy a bath now?”

You chuckled breathlessly and nodded. “You read my mind.”

[luffles424]

Luminous

��� Pairing: Jimin x reader 

☼ Genre: tentacle monster!Jimin, some fluff, smut, mostly just pwp

☼ Count: 9k

☼ Warnings: 18+, public sex (no ones around but they’re on the beach), tentacles (kind of a given), big dick jimin, manhandling, lots of cum, some cumplay, creampie, cum inflation/belly bulge (not a whole lot, just a small bump) unprotected sex, restraints, choking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tit fucking, thigh fucking, oral (m recieving), deep throating, anal, double penatration, minor nipple play, praise kink, mating cycles, slight impreg kink

☼ Summary: The Busan summer festival is your favorite event of the year. You like all the food and things to do, but your favorite part is watching the fireworks at the end of the night, gathered with friends and family. It’s fun and joyous. Except this year you’re spending it without them. So you find a secluded spot on the beach to watch alone. Except... you might not be as alone as you thought you were out here. 

☼ a/n:  This was written for Sol’s (jamaisjoons) collab event ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ and my prompt was ‘watching fireworks.’ Uhhh this idea was originally very different and then I started thinking about tentacles and now here we are 🥴🥴🥴 Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Banner made by the absolutely amazing @jamaisjoons​ (who did such wonderful work on it and I hope the fic lives up to the beautiful banner she made me 💕💕💕)

You let out a small contented sigh as you slip your feet into the water. This is your favorite place in all of Busan, this hidden little jutty of rock just off one of the smaller, less popular beaches, more popular among locals only. You’ve spent more time than you can count out here hanging out with your friends, passing the time and using the salty sea breeze to help combat the heat of summer. You’ve been out here plenty on your own too, just like how you’re out here alone right now. 

The sun’s dipping below the horizon, the sky slowly turning an inky black. The perfect backdrop to what’s going to happen soon and the main reason you’re out here at all to begin with rather than at home. The summer festival is happening and once the sun disappears, the sky will be decorated with fireworks, and you and your friends discovered years ago that this is the best spot to watch them, unobstructed and no one around to fight for seats. 

You kick your feet idly in the water, enjoying the warmth of it as you lean back on your hands as you watch the last few rays of light slip away. You wished your friends could’ve made it though. But Namjoon was stuck in the city for work and Taehyung was out with his girlfriend at the festival. A brief feeling of sadness overcomes you because you had been planning to go with Taehyung and his girlfriend and your own boyfriend as a double date. Until he dumped you a week ago over text because he’d moved to the otherside of the country and apparently was nothing like the man you met since he didn’t even have the balls to break up in person. 

You suspect that there was a lot more than his flimsy excuse of it’s just not working and long distance is hard. It most likely has something to do with the new girl that you’ve been told about that has shown up on his socials. 

For what it’s worth, Taehyung and Namjoon both offered you company but you waved them off. Namjoon’s job opportunity is much more important and as much as you love Taehyung and his girlfriend, you didn’t particularly feel like being third wheel to their (normally adorable and heart warming) love. 

You think this is better anyway. It’s peaceful out here. The smell of salt being carried by the breeze brings a myriad of memories that all bring a smile to your face and it’s easy to forget about the hard things in this moment. It’s healing to be out here. As much as it sucked that you got dumped, you can’t be too upset. You saw the cracks forming the more he opened his mouth and talked, if he hadn’t done it, you likely would have been doing it soon anyway. You let your head fall back, letting your eyes slip closed as you simply enjoyed this. You should tell the others that you all need to make another trip out here soon. 

Plus you’d come much earlier when the sun was still high and swam some. Using the ebb and flow of the ocean to erode your worries and stress. Then you’d sprawled out on your beach towel on your rocky perch and let the sunset dry your skin before you slipped back into your shorts and tank top and allowed the peacefulness to swallow you. 

You startle slightly when there’s a loud, echoing boom and color flashes across the sky. You’d been lulled into such calmness and had almost forgotten why you were out here to begin with. You watch the sky passively, watching the occasional flash of color and shapes as the firework people warm themselves and the crowds up. You know the real show won’t start for at least another 45 minutes, knowing the tell by the fact that there’s still the faintest of traces of blue on the horizon. 

Your feet continue their idle movements in the water, until something slick brushes the bottom of your foot and you scream on instinct, quickly jerking your foot free from the water. You back up an extra foot from the edge, to the safety of the blanket that you spread across the rocks, just as an extra precaution. You’re sure that whatever touched you was probably just seaweed. Maybe a plastic bag or some other trash that someone carelessly threw into the ocean. But anything touching you in the water when the water is nothing more than an inky black expanse is enough for you to decide that’s enough soaking for the night.

Just as your heart rate is returning to normal, something slips over the edge of the rocks where you’d just been sitting. It gleams in the moonlight, silver, smooth, and shiny, as it makes a cursory probe at the edge, like it’s looking for something. It’s probably no thicker than your thumb and you deliriously wonder if octopi are even capable of coming up on dry land, let alone the reason why one might be coming up right now. Though the longer you stare at it, the more you realize that it’s far too smooth to be from an octopus, completely devoid of the telltale suckers. 

You shuffle a little further away. You really don’t want to move too quickly, not if you don’t know what it even is and if it can follow you or how fast whatever it is. But your slight movement only seems to catch it’s attention and to your growing horror, it lashes out almost faster than you can see and wraps itself firmly around your ankle. You scream again, because aside from that, there’s really very little you can do out here all alone with it on you.

Any attempts to free yourself prove futile, the slender appendage is far stronger than you would’ve expected from such a jelly-like creature. It gives its own experimental tug, one that pulls you marginally closer to the water before you once again scramble backwards. It lets you and that just serves to freak you out more.

Then, a few more tentacles appear over the edge of the rock, watering dripping and spreading out around them and then there’s a… hand? You frown as a seemingly human hand, if perhaps a little ashen looking, plants itself on the rock right alongside the tentacles. The fingers flex for a moment before something, somehow even more surprising, appears. A fairly human face, or at least up to the eyes as that’s the furthest it raises, peaks up over the edge, gaze quickly zeroing in on you. Your heart stutters in your chest as your eyes meet and its pale silver eyes gleam like its tentacles. It’s hair is wet and slicked back and, though the locks are currently water logged and a few shades darker, it’s clearly also a similar shade of silver as its tentacles and eyes. 

Another hand joins the first along the edge of the rocks and for a moment it doesn’t move at all. You stare at it, you know it’s definitely bigger than an octopus now. You don’t think you could take it. It’s dead silent aside from the gentle lapping of the waves and you’re terrified to move for fear of what it’s going to do to you. It gives the slightest of tugs on your ankle and when you don’t budge it finally lifts itself from the water. 

You try to back away again, but it’s grip keeps you in place and you let out a startled scream when another tentacle darts out to wrap itself around your other ankle. The… monster… sits on its knees at the edge for a moment after pulling itself from the water. 

It, he?, looks almost perfectly human. Skin a dimmed golden shade, frame small but packed with lean muscle… apparently well endowed in human terms. You jerk your gaze quickly away when you realize just where you're staring. Your life is on the line, now is not the time to to fucking ogle the monster and think about if he can get hard like a human and if it possibly gets bigger. You force yourself back to his face, cheekbones prominent and lips plush as he seems to be looking you over as well, though his gaze continually seems to dart behind you, brows knitting in confusion. 

His eyes appear almost human except that it doesn’t seem like he has a pupil, silver swallowing the whole of the iris. It’s slightly disconcerting. His tentacles shift behind him, drawing your attention to them finally. The ones not on you shift behind him restlessly, never seeming to settle. A thin one drapes itself on his shoulder before slithering across his skin to the other side, forming a strange sort of living necklace. It’s hard to pin down an exact number with them constantly moving, but there seems to be a lot and they seem to come in primarily two sizes, thinner ones like the one draped around his throat and wrapped around your ankles and thicker ones easily the width of 3 or 4 fingers, you try very hard not to compare their girth with what you had glimpsed between his legs. 

You’re trying to formulate a plan to get away when there’s another boom of a firework, bathing everything pink for a moment. And what you’re certainly not expecting is for the way the monster startles at the sound. The tentacles around your ankles tighten almost painfully and then before you can completely comprehend what’s going on, you’re being pulled closer to him. Once you're close enough, he’s leaning down over you and you squeeze your eyes shut, unsure of what’s about to happen but positive that it’s unlikely to be good.

But nothing happens and as the seconds stretch, you slowly peek an eye open. His face is almost directly above yours, but it’s not you that he’s looking at. Instead, he’s studiously scanning your surroundings, looking tense and on edge. When you glance at the way that he’s leaning over you, you realize that he seems to be almost… protecting you? Which only serves to confuse you more.

Deeming there to be no immediate threat, his gaze turns down to you and you freeze now that you're faced with him this close. He blinks down at you before his lips part and he makes a strange sort of clicking sound, but you’re more focused on the sharp teeth revealed when he makes noise. Definitely sharp enough to tear into you and eat his fill.

“Please don’t eat me,” you squeak out, hands coming up to cover your face.

There’s silence for a moment before a deep chuckle sounds from him. You peek between your fingers at him and there’s a smirk stretching his lips. 

“Oh, I have met your kind before.” His voice is soft and surprisingly melodious given the higher pitch the clicking was. 

You can’t help the words that slip from your lips. “My kind?”

His lips twitch and he tilts his head. “Humans. Are you not human?” He pushes himself up slightly to inspect you again. “You do not appear to be one of my kind.”

“There’s more of you?”

His gaze darts around. “A few.”

You swallow, about to speak again when another firework goes off. He startles above you and drops closer once more, body pressed firmly to yours as he glares around, trying to discover the source. 

You’d laugh at his constant startling if your throat wasn’t suddenly so dry. His chest is every bit as firm as it looked and you can feel every shift and ripple as he looks around. It’s incredibly distracting. Why did the monster have to be hot? You squeeze your eyes shut again. You should not be thinking about how it’d feel to touch the monster with your hands. Or how other parts of him would feel. 

He shifts off of you slightly. “It is safe for now.”

You blink your eyes open, frowning at him. “Safe? What are you talking about?”

His head tilts and he reminds you of a confused puppy. “Do you not hear the loud noises?”

A giggle slips out and that seems to perplex him further. “No, no. I do. It’s just… Have you not been around here before?” 

“I have always lived here.”

“Have you… been on land before?”

His brows pinch and there’s the slightest of flushes coloring his cheeks a deep blue-gray. “I come up here every year.”

“How have you not heard them before then? They’re just fireworks.” You see the streak of a new one and point to it quickly, drawing his attention to it just before it reaches its peak and explodes in a sparkling cascade of gold. “They’re for entertainment. They’re not dangerous.” You pause. “Okay they are. But not at this distance. The only people who could possibly be in danger would be the ones firing them.”

“Fire… works?” He mumbles, sitting back on his haunches as his face remains tilted towards the sky even though the phosphorus has long since burned out. “Will there be more?”

You slowly push yourself up, cautious of what he might do but his focus remains firmly upwards. “Yeah, they’ll keep shooting some singles off for a little bit longer then they’ll start the big show.”

He says nothing else and you wonder if you can use the time to slip away before you realize that he still has two tentacles wrapped around your ankles. There goes your chance for escape. At least he doesn’t seem interested in eating you. Yet.

Another firework goes and you watch his eyes widen as he follows its trajectory up until it stops in an explosion of color and sound. But you’re far more taken watching the childlike glee on his face and the way the colors gleam on his skin and tentacles. The colors add another level to his already stunning looks, making him look far more ethereal and angelic. He grins as he watches and he looks much less like a terrifying monster. Though you worry what will happen once the fireworks stop and there’s nothing to distract him. Maybe when the real show starts he’ll be so engrossed that you can slip yourself free of the tentacles and make a quick and quiet escape. 

You shake your head, looking away and up at the sky too. There’s nothing much you can do right now with their grip on you still too tight, so you might as well also watch the show. The fireworks are slowly starting to increase in frequency and he seems to squirm in excitement the closer together the pops of color come. 

“Do you have a name?” You ask suddenly, looking back over at him. Maybe you can text Namjoon or Taehyung and tell them that if you disappear to look for something with that name. Probably Taehyung. He’d be more likely to believe that you’ve been taken by a monster than Namjoon. He’d probably ask if you’ve drank or smoked anything. Get too drunk camping once and claim that bigfoot tried to kidnap you and you never get believed again. 

He doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even seem to acknowledge that you spoke. But then his lips purse and he looks over at you for a moment. “Jimin.”

“Jimin?” He bobs his head and turns back to catch another firework going off. “My name’s Y/n.” You murmur, unsure if he’s even interested. 

It hurts a little that he didn’t seem interested in you back, but you suppose that you don’t know whatever his monster customs are. And you really shouldn’t look too deeply into why it hurts that a monster doesn’t seem interested in you. That should be a good thing. It means you have a better chance of getting away. 

There’s a long break in the fireworks and Jimin’s lips push out into an adorable pout as he turns to you with sad eyes. “Is it over?”

You laugh and shake your head. “No. It’s actually just getting ready to get started. Now it’s the big show. You thought it was good before. Just wait.”

He gives a simple nod and turns back to the sky, content to wait patiently for the rest. Silence descends on you both and you feel like you should be more worried about the tentacle monster sitting in front of you. But Jimin seems harmless enough, he certainly hasn’t tried to eat you or anything and that’s certainly got to count for something. He seems far more interested in the fireworks than in you now anyway. 

You’re just starting to relax when something cool and damp brushes the skin of your lower back. You freeze, back stiff as whatever it is tentatively touches the warm skin before slithering further up your shirt. You bite down on the urge to scream, you don’t want to startle Jimin again. Just because he was protective before, doesn’t mean that a scream coming from you would produce the same result. And before you can twist to see what is crawling up your shirt, the tentacles around your ankles slide a little further up your legs, ends timidly probing along your flesh as they go.

Another tentacle, one of the thicker ones, slides across your arm, wrapping once around your wrist and nestling the tip into your palm. The cool sensation is bizarrely familiar and it takes you only a moment to realize that whatever crawled up your shirt a moment ago is another tentacle. You’re about to speak when a thin tentacle trails up your arm to rest against your shoulder, gently tracing your jaw and neck. 

You swallow. “Um, Jimin?” All you get is a hum in response. Does he not realize what’s going on? “Jimin? What’s happening?”

Either your words or tone finally pulls his attention to you and when he sees his tentacles wrapped around you, he flushes a pretty blue. He scoots away, working to encourage them to release you, but this time of year they always have a bit more mind of their own. He makes an irritated clicking noise when they don’t move.

The one in your hand seems to respond to his sound though you’re not sure if it’s the way he wanted it to or not but it tightens around your wrist slightly before becoming… slicker?

You look at it, a weird mix of horror and maybe a little arousal. Maybe you shouldn’t have watched so much hentai when you were younger. You look back up at Jimin, at a complete loss. “Jimin?”

Jimin looks incredibly embarrassed, burying his face in his hands and making more distressed clicking noises. Probing tentacles aside, he looks adorable all flustered like this. A few of his tentacles wrap around his wrists and shoulders, patting his skin soothingly but that only seems to make him more distressed. 

The tentacle at your back has reached the tie to your bikini top beneath your shirt and is prodding at the knot with interest. You don’t know what to do to stop the distress you can practically feel coming from Jimin. The tentacle in your hand squirms slightly, drawing your attention back to it. You swallow, sneaking a quick peek at Jimin as you do the only, seemingly illogical, thing you can think of right now and you close your hand around the rowdy tentacle and squeeze. 

The result is instantaneous and certainly not what you had expected. Jimin moans. So then even if he’s not in control, he can still feel through them. Interesting to know. Jimin’s mouth hangs open for a moment before his gaze is meeting yours and you suddenly feel like maybe that was the wrong thing to do. 

There’s simmering fire in his eyes as he tries to speak as calmly and evenly as possibly. “I told you I come here once a year, correct?” You nod and he continues. “I come here to mate.”

You blink at him, mind completely blanking out. “M-mate?” You hate how high your voice sounds. 

He nods, sending a glare at the tentacles touching you. “When I saw you here, I had assumed you were one that I have spent the mating period with before.”

“Fuck, did I ruin your hookup?”

“Hookup?”

Your body heats with embarrassment. Maybe if you ask nicely, Jimin will let you go drown. “Whoever you were supposed to meet here. Did they not show up because I was here?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I did not have plans. But sometimes if someone is near they will stop by. If they are not, I can take care of myself.”

The image of Jimin splayed out on the rocks by himself, tentacles sliding across his skin, wrapped around his cock, drawing more of those noises from him shoots straight to your core. Your pussy clenches around nothing and your hand accidentally tightens around Jimin’s tentacle again, drawing a gasp from him. 

“I apologize for not warning you sooner. The fireworks distracted me but it appears that it did not distract them.” He gestures to his tentacles. “Give me a moment and I should be able to free you so you can leave.”

His eyes slip closed and your gaze drags over him, startling slightly when you realize he’s started to grow hard too. You feel crazy that the first thing you think is how badly you want to touch. 

This is such a bad idea, but before you can stop yourself or second guess, you’re speaking. “What if... you didn’t though?”

Jimin freezes, but the tentacles seem to grow more restless at your words. Another thick one stretches the distance between you both to rest against your thigh, slicking your skin wherever it touches.

“You do not know what you are saying.” He grits out.

The tentacle in your hand squirms and you give it a small squeeze, maintaining eye contact with Jimin as you do so you get to fully enjoy the shudder that ripples through him. “I um, think I have a pretty good idea what I’m saying.”

He shakes his head, hair falling over his eyes. You didn’t think it would be so hard to convince a tentacle monster that you wanted him to fuck you. This was by far the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. For all you know, he could eat his partner afterwards. If you live past this encounter, no one would ever let you live it down. If they even believed you. Your gaze drops involuntarily back to his cock and you find that he's fully hard now. And it’s almost a little intimidating how big he is, longer and thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before. You don’t think your fingers would be able to wrap around the girth. But any apprehensions you think you’d feel normally are nowhere to be seen, all you feel is overwhelming want. You want to try to fit him, to feel the burn as he stretches you out. You want to taste and you want him to absolutely ruin you. 

Unsure of any other way to convince him that you do want this, you switch tactics. If you can’t convince him with words, you’ll just have to show him what you want. You release the tentacle in your hand, though it keeps itself wrapped around your wrist, and move to remove your shirt. Seeming to know your plan, or maybe just through a stroke of luck, the tentacle that has been exploring your bikini top seems to have discovered how to undo the ties and as your top hits the ground beside you, your top slips to your lap.

His eyes dip to the scrap of fabric in your lap before they trace slowly back up, expression worryingly blank. You belatedly realize that this might not even be a good signal to him that you do want this. You don’t know what others of his kind look like, if any of them look anything like you. For the most part, he looks human enough, you’d think that maybe this was enough, that maybe this is at least sort of familiar to him. You feel suddenly self conscious, this was such a dumb idea. You really shouldn’t let the horny brain lead. You’re just about to cross your arms to cover yourself when the tentacle that had been on your thigh slithers up your stomach to sit between your breasts. 

You glance at Jimin and his eyes seem darker, jaw clenched tight. His tentacles seem to grow more agitated behind him and the ones around your ankles tighten to tug you closer, both to your surprise and apparently also Jimin’s. He flushes, staring down at you with wide eyes as your thighs come to rest against his. 

The tentacle on your chest squirms and Jimin’s gaze drops to watch. Your gaze drops too, intending to look at the tentacle currently writhing around on your chest and smearing slick there but you only make it halfway. Because Jimin is now fully hard, thick cock curving up towards his belly and the sight of it has you enraptured. He looked big when he was still soft, but now fully hard, or at least what you assume is fully hard, he looks positively massive. The skin of his cock is the same muted tan of the rest of him, the tip almost blue-gray, close to the color his cheeks turned but deeper in color, and it’s leaking more silvery looking fluid. You wonder if it’s the same thing that is leaking from his tentacles. 

Jimin shudders and it takes only a moment for you to realize that the reason is because a thin tentacle has wrapped itself around the base of his cock. It makes you want to touch too. So tentatively, you reach out, gaze flicking between his cock and his face to gauge his reaction and giving him more than enough time to pull away. 

He watches your fingers brush against the tip, dragging a smear of slick further down the shaft but he makes no move to stop you. He lets out a shaky exhale and, emboldened by the noise, you wrap your fingers around him. Or you at least try your best to because his girth keeps your fingers from meeting. 

Jimin makes a rumbling noise and then there are two more tentacles massaging at your thighs, working their way up until they meet the edge of your shorts. They only probe along the fabric for a moment before slipping beneath and continuing their exploration towards the apex of your thighs. They trace the edge of your bikini bottoms before one of them presses against your pussy through the thin fabric. 

You gasp and Jimin’s gaze is back on your face, attention wholly focused on you as his tentacles press again, but this time with a little more pressure. One happens to brush past your clit and you jolt, a moan slipping from your lips and the tentacles seem desperate to recreate that reaction as they narrow their focus to your clit. 

Jimin groans again and his hands come up to cup your cheeks, his tentacles all stilling for a moment. He waits until you look up at him. “Are you sure? It will be harder to stop once we start. Are you positive you can handle it? I do not mind spending the time alone.”

It’s sweet how concerned he is about you. But now that he’s started, all you can think about is being fucked by him while his tentacles play with every inch of you. You squirm back slightly and he seems to take that as rejection, if the flash of disappointment you catch on his face is anything to go by. You quickly undo your shorts, tugging them down your legs, assisted by his tentacles once they reach your ankles. 

He swallows and you watch as the tentacles from your ankles relocate to your thighs to keep you spread wide as the two that had been in your pants resume their work on your clit, now free of the hindrance of cloth. You bring your slick fingers to your mouth and keep eye contact as you lick them clean. It’s salty like the sea, but rather than the bitterness of cum, his has a hint of sweetness to it. It’s slightly addictive.

He stares at you for a moment and then he’s making another clicking noise and the tentacle that had been around your wrist unwraps itself and slips between your legs to join the other two already there, though it bypasses your clit to circle your dripping hole instead. 

“Needy.” He coos, though you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or his tentacles. Maybe both. 

He shuffles in close again, seemingly content to just watch his tentacles play with you. You whine, you like the feel of his tentacles, but you want him to touch with his hands and lips too. You want more. Maybe the needy was directed at you after all. He glances up at your noise, watching the way your mouth drops open as his tentacle finally wriggles it’s way into your pussy. It’s firmer than you expected from touching it, but still much more malleable than a cock would be. But it’s softer nature allows it greater freedom to explore your walls as it moves slowly in and out of you, certainly a different experience for you but you definitely can’t find it in you to hate it when it can reach all the right spots inside of you easily.

You reach out, grabbing the first part of Jimin you can grab, his arm, and tug him insistently down on top of you. He complies easily, seemingly curious as to what you want. You wonder if he’s ever kissed a partner before, if that’s something that his kind does. You hesitate and Jimin immediately notices, head tilting in curiosity. 

“What is wrong?”

You’re gasping before you can formulate your question, the tentacle inside you having quickly found your g-spot and is now making sure to rub it with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Jimin’s head dips down and his nose rubs against yours. 

“Are you okay? I have never been with a human and so I am unsure of what might hurt or bring pleasure. Please tell me if they are hurting you.”

He looks so sweet and it makes your heart stutter a little. You tilt your head, capturing his plush lips in a kiss. They’re warmer than you expected, giving the cooler temperature of his tentacles. It takes him a moment of inaction before he seems to catch on to how to kiss back. He makes a small noise when your tongue brushes his lips but he easily parts them for you. His sharp teeth skim your lip and it leaves you gasping into his mouth. He seems pleased with the response and he trails his lips across your jaw and down your neck. 

“You did not answer my question.” He murmurs, teeth gently teasing the skin of your neck, mindful of their sharpness. 

His tentacles are driving you mad, bringing you so close to your orgasm but seeming to know exactly when to slow back down to draw it out even longer. “What… question?” You gasp out.

“Are you okay?”

You’d scoff if the tentacles around your clit hadn’t started circling in tandem, winding the coil in your belly tighter. “So… so okay… Fuck, Jimin, are you sure you’ve never been with a human before?”

He pulls away from your neck enough to look down at you, a pleased smile stretching his lips. “I have not. Am I doing good?”

You nod enthusiastically, hands tangling in his hair to pull him back in for a messy kiss. He makes a pleased sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat and his tentacles speed up. And this time when your orgasm draws near his tentacles keep their speed rather than slowing again and you cum, back arching off the blanket as your pussy convulses around the tentacle. His tentacles continue their ministrations and Jimin pulls away to stare down at where his tentacle disappears inside you with wide eyed wonder. 

He groans as he watches with rapt attention. “Does it do this every time?”

You squirm, oversensitivity quickly setting in as his tentacles refuse to let up. The borderline painful feeling robs you of words to tell him to slow down and give you just a moment to breath. The tentacle inside of you swells and then everything grows a little slicker as Jimin chokes on a gasp. You struggle to reach out to grasp any one of the tentacles, to just lessen the sensations ravaging your pussy just a little, but before you can even make contact, another tentacle is wrapping around both wrists and dragging them above your head. 

“J-Jimin, please…”

Jimin pays you no mind, tentacles working faster under his focused gaze and it doesn't take long for you to be thrown into a second orgasm, though it feels almost like the first one never ended. You cry out, much too loud even if the beach is seemingly deserted right now. You shudder as your orgasm crests and Jimin’s tentacle seems to stiffen inside you before you feel suddenly wetter and stickier and full. The tentacle slips out of you after a few weaker thrusts and a small gush of thick liquid follows and the tentacle suddenly seems much less enthusiastic than its counterparts. Fuck, did that mean…?

“Jimin,” you whine, waiting until he finally tears his gaze away from your dripping pussy. “Do… do your tentacles cum too?”

His head tilts in confusion. “Come?” He thinks for a moment before realization seems to overcome him. “Ah. Do you mean do my tentacles also release?”

Embarrassment creeps over you. Something so clinical shouldn’t have you aching to be filled again when you just came twice and apparently already filled. You nod shyly. 

“Yes. They also release. It is to give the best chance of a successful mating.”

You swallow, eyeing the tentacles behind him wearily. “Do they all have to?”

He shakes his head, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “They do not. Only the big ones release. And from those, they do not all release every mating.”

You feel equal parts relieved and disappointed, though you know that you should probably question your disappointment. But you’ve already come this far, no reason to start questioning your potentially bad decisions now. 

He tilts his head. “Does it bother you? They do not need to do it near you if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You choke, unsure how to respond for a moment. This whole situation should really terrify and appall you. But you only find yourself growing hotter at the idea of being used by his tentacles and covered in their cum. You chew your lip before giving a small nod. 

His eyes trace over your face before he seems to light up and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “Does the thought of that arouse you, sweet? I must admit, most of my previous partners were less than enthused about that aspect of mating.”

You groan, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in your hands in shame but Jimin’s tentacles keep your hands studiously bound above your head. Even his own kind didn’t like it. Why were you so weird? He giggles, leaning down to brush your nose with his own. His face is set with a kind smile, but his eyes still dance with mirth and lust. 

“I find it very arousing that you like it so much. Tell me what you are thinking about, sweet.”

To punctuate his words, another tentacle slips between your legs, rubbing along your sticky slit. You moan and Jimin’s eyes shine with fire. “I… was thinking about you fucking me and filling me up and leaving me all messy.”

He smirks. “I can do that, sweet. Just ask.”

“Jimin, please, fuck me… Fuck, ruin me…”

Jimin’s grin turns positively feral, sharp teeth on display. And for a moment, fear ripples through you as Jimin looks truly like a monster for the first time since he’s surfaced. But then his tentacles shift around him, eager for their chance to touch. Jimin shoos the thick tentacle away from your pussy, the ones around your thighs assisting him in situating you how he wants. He runs the tips of his cock through the mess left there by his tentacle and a pleased chirp leaves him. 

“You are already so full. Do you think you can take more?” He purrs.

You nod and his cock presses against your entrance. He presses just the tip in and he stretches your pussy more than the tentacle did. You gasp, breath robbed from you as the stretch borders on too much. But Jimin seems to sense it and pauses with just the tip inside, allowing you all the time to adjust to his massive cock. 

Jimin’s hands skim up your thighs, the tentacles resting passively on your clit once again coming to life and the jolt of pleasure has you squirming on Jimin’s cock. His hands rest on your hips, gripping them with bruising strength to keep you from moving. You whimper at the casual display of strength, at the way that he seems to not even be trying to hold you still while his tentacles slowly circle your clit to get you to relax. 

Two other tentacles slip up your body, pressing against your breasts and kneading at the flesh experimentally. The sensation is different, while the tentacles don’t have the surface area the way a hand does, they are capable of moving in ways a hand simply can’t. They grope at the flesh, exploring and testing the limits. One brushes past your nipple, causing you to gasp and suddenly both are on the pebbled buds, playing with them to draw even more noises from you. Their motions mimic the motions on your clit and pleasure sparks across your body once again. 

The tentacles shift slightly, long bodies draping down the sides of your breasts and then they press the mounds inwards, forcing the flesh together around the tentacle still resting on your sternum. Jimin grunts at the sudden pressure around his tentacle and your gaze drops to watch with fascination as the tentacle starts to thrust into the tight space, silvery tip gleaming with each press through. 

Your pussy clenches at the thought of it slipping a little further up and into your mouth, of tasting that salty, sweet slick from the source. A high pitched noise sounds in Jimin’s throat as his hips stutter forward at the feeling of your pussy tightening around him and you moan as he slips a little further into you, stretching you just a little more. Now though, the stretch makes you ache for more, the burn finally passed with the aid of the tentacles playing with your clit and nipples and slowly pulling your pleasure back to the surface. 

You really need him to be completely inside of you and when you dig your heels into his ass to try to get him to move, he seems hesitant. His tentacles, however, seem more than thrilled at the idea and more than happy to help you in your pursuit. The ones around your thighs tighten and pull you closer, until Jimin is buried to the hilt in the clutch of your pussy. The noise is filthy, the mess from his tentacle spilling out around his cock to smear on your thighs and drip down your ass. 

Jimin goes rigid when he’s fully inside you, eyes trained on where you’re joined. He seems transfixed by the sight of your cunt swallowing down every inch he has. Your whine has his head snapping up to look at your face, drinking in the way you’re moaning. The tentacle between your breasts slips a little further up, tip bumping your chin once before it’s shifting to your lips. Your tongue darts out, swiping through the salty fluid. Jimin shudders, hips flexing where they press into you and you let your mouth fall open for his tentacle to slip in. 

Your tongue swirls around the tip and it squirms, pushing in further than you expect and causing you to gag. It pulls itself from your mouth with a pop and you frown at it’s loss before shifting your gaze to Jimin, who seems to be glaring at the tentacle like it did something wrong. 

“Jimin?” When he looks at you, you give him an amused smile. “It’s okay. It just takes me a minute.”

His head tilts but the tentacle makes its way tentatively back to your mouth, hovering until you open again for it to slip back in. It goes a lot slower this time, keeping its thrusts shallow. You hum encouragingly, tongue pressing and massaging the underside as it moves and the tentacle slides a little deeper. You gag only slightly this time, much more prepared now, and after a few thrusts you grow used to the intrusion and it can slip just a little bit more down your throat. 

Jimin watches for a moment before groaning and then he’s pulling his cock out until just the tip remains before slamming back in. You moan around his tentacle, noise muffled as it delves further down your throat. It stays there for a moment and the lack of oxygen has your head start to spin. Your hands twitch where they’re still bound above your head, but before the real need for oxygen comes and you have to try to alert Jimin that you need to breathe, the tentacle is pulling out, switching to shallow thrusts while you get a quick break to breathe. The sudden rush of oxygen has you feeling nearly euphoric and you can only hope that the tentacle does it again. When you whine around it, it pushes back into your throat and the rest of the whine is muffled by it’s girth. 

Jimin’s fingers flex against your hips as he watches and feels how much of his tentacle slips into the waiting warmth of your mouth and with a moan he starts fucking into your pussy with a quick pace. Your hands grab at the tentacle binding you, needing something, anything, to ground yourself as Jimin fucks you senseless. You feel wholly overwhelmed at the way his cock fills you, the way the tentacles swirl around your clit, your nipples and breasts, at the way the one in your mouth begins to stiffen up. 

The tentacles shift on your breasts, kneading the soft flesh once again before pinching at your nipples. You moan around the tentacle in your mouth and it gives a shudder before flooding your mouth and throat. You choke slightly, jerking your head slightly at the sheer volume being released into your mouth, far more than you can handle. Spit and cum drip from the corners of your mouth as you struggle to swallow and the tentacle pulls itself from your mouth before it's finished, painting the lower half of your face even more in its silvery essence. Jimin’s eyes gleam at the sight, seeming to become even more frantic with his thrusts. 

“J-jimin…” You whine, voice rough from use. You’re not entirely sure what you’d finish that statement with.

“You are doing so well.” He coos and the praise has your mind going fuzzy. “You look so pretty like this.”

He reaches up, sliding a hand through the mess on your cheeks before letting his hand drag the mess back down your body, leaving a shiny trail down your throat, in the valley between your breasts and across your stomach. He slams in particularly hard and you cry out, voice echoing across the empty beach and ocean, much too loud but you no longer care.

Jimin glows golden, the light haloing him and your fucked out mind is sluggish to make sense of the sudden color change. Then you remember why you were out here to begin with and you make the connection just as the resounding boom of the firework follows just after the shower of color. The fireworks show must be finally starting because the next second Jimin is bathed in blue, then pink.

But as quick as your attention was taken by the colorful shadows splashed across Jimin’s beautiful face, it’s taken back as he shifts suddenly, hands leaving your hips to push your thighs together as he continues to fuck you. Your calves come to rest on one shoulder and Jimin uses the new position to fuck you even harder. 

Something slick drags along the crease where your thighs are pressed together and a second later a tentacle is pushing into the tight space. Your skin tingles where it presses into your skin and with every thrust it makes through the tight press of your thighs, it bumps the tentacles on your clit. Jimin presses a kiss to your leg and you feel the breath leave him as his tentacle speeds up and he hisses.

The sensations are nearly overwhelming, to the point that you almost miss the new slim tentacle kneading the flesh of your ass. It delivers a pinch to the skin that leaves you gasping and you’re much more aware of it as it runs along the seam of your ass. You squirm, or at least attempt to, because between the tentacles restraining you and Jimin’s firm grip on your thighs, you’re left nearly immobile as you get fucked. The tentacle slips a little further up, gathering some slick before it’s dipping back down to prod at the tight ring of muscle of your hole. 

You shudder and if you could move, you’d press down onto the tentacle, force it to fill you because you need it as much as you need Jimin’s cock in you. “Fuck, please, don’t tease…”

Jimin’s face is set in concentration and you don’t think he heard you, except a second later the tentacle breaches your ass. You moan, glad that it was a smaller one to start. It thrusts tentatively, growing bolder as your noises raise in pitch and then a second slim tentacle is joining, slipping past the tight ring of muscle to thrust in counterpoint to the first. 

Jimin’s thrusts slow, his head tilting back as he pants. He looks like a sculpture, so beautiful that it aches a little. Something that people should look at and marvel over. A moan slips past his lips as the tentacles in your ass speed up a little, taking some time to also shift apart and spread you open even more. 

“You… are endless…” Jimin breaths out. It sounds reverent. 

The tentacles slip from you and you have no time to mourn the loss before they’re being replaced by one of the thicker tentacles. The stretch hurts a little, but with so many other things happening to your body at the same time, you’re quickly distracted from the ache. The tentacle stills anyway, allowing you time to adjust to its thick girth. 

“You are so full of surprises.” He says, head dropping forward once more to let his gaze rake over your shuddering figure.

The tentacle in your ass thrusts in response to Jimin’s words and when you don’t indicate any pain, both pull out and thrust roughly back in. The tentacle between your thighs and in your ass thrust opposite Jimin, keeping you full and stimulated when Jimin pulls out. 

“Please… Jimin please, fill me up, you said you would…” You feel slightly delirious with need, every thrust of his tentacle adds extra pressure to your clit and you feel so close to cumming, teetering on the edge. 

Jimin gives you no verbal response, only that of him pressing your thighs together a little harder. A few more thrusts of the tentacle between your thighs has you clamping down on Jimin’s cock and the one in your ass as you cum, body shuddering as the tentacles and Jimin continue to thrust. You squeeze your eyes shut, vision nearly whiting out entirely as your orgasm slams into you. The tentacle between your thighs lasts only a handful more thrusts before its stiffening and releasing, splattering your chest, belly, and thighs in the silver cum. It gives a few weak final spurts before slipping back through your thighs as Jimin parts them once more. 

His cock twitches as his gaze falls over you messy form, the normally silvery liquid lighting up in splashes of color with every new explosion that happens above you both. He’s never seen a more beautiful sight. One of his hands lands on your thigh as the other bats his tentacles away from your clit, an action that you're grateful for for only a moment because he quickly replaces them with his fingers. You arch and cry out, jerking your hands with enough force that you seem to startle the binding tentacle and it releases you. Your hands wrap around his wrist, tugging futilely at it to get him to let up. 

You moan his name desperately, trying to squirm away from the sensation as his tentacles keep you held close as he continues to fuck you through your overstimulation. 

“Can you do that for me one more time? You feel so good when you do that, sweet.”

You whimper. You want to say no, that it hurts a little and that you really don’t think you’re capable of another orgasm. But the pout he wears stops you and you find yourself nodding without even thinking about how you’re going to get past the too much feeling currently overwhelming your body. 

Jimin gives you another feral grin, eyes roving over your figure as his fingers work quick circles around your clit. For no experience with a human, he’s an incredibly fast learner. He seems to know your body better than your ex had and the two of you had been together for almost 2 years. 

The tentacles on your breasts move to collect some of the slick covering you, smearing it around your nipples as the pinch and play with them, the slick adding a new layer of feeling to the actions. 

“Come on, sweet.” Jimin purrs as his cock seems to swell ever more and the tentacle in your ass starts to stiffen. 

Another rough thrust and a few twists of his fingers and you’re cumming again with a cry of his name. Your pussy and ass convulses around him and Jimin lets out a series of clicks and chirps as he finally cums, flooding your pussy and ass with more silvery slick. There seems to be a never ending stream from his cock and after a few moments, pressure on your lower stomach makes you look down, groaning at the sight of your slightly distended belly.

Jimin makes a contented noise, rubbing gently over the swell. “You would look so beautiful swollen with my children.”

His cock gives another twitch and a feeble last spurt of cum and Jimin and his tentacles seem to deflate. His chin presses to his chest as he takes in slow, deep breaths. The tentacles all slowly slip from your body and you mourn the slight warmth you lose. Another few moments pass and then Jimin is gingerly pulling his cock from your abuse pussy and gazing over your whole body with almost reverence. 

You feel too exhausted to do much more, but you can feel his cum dripping from you, forming a puddle beneath your ass. At least you're next to the ocean for easy clean up. If you had the energy to do that. Maybe in 5 minutes… Or an hour. You can’t even feel your legs right now. You’re pretty sure you’d just drown.

Jimin stretches out beside you, arm coming to wrap around your middle, seemingly unbothered by the fact that it lands in a mess. You blearily realize that his tentacles seem much smaller now too. His head tilts and you realize that he’s watching the fireworks again. Like he didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life and leave you ruined for anyone who comes after him. 

You watch in silence for a while, endeared by Jimin’s ohs and ahs as he discovers new types of fireworks, the different shapes and effects that can happen. 

“Jimin.” You call softly. His nose brushes your shoulder in response. “Will… Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

Jimin pushes himself up enough so that he can look down at you, frown marring his pretty face. “What is it?”

You fidget, suddenly hating that you’re naked and still covered in him. You glance over at the water.

“Do you wish to go in, sweet?”

It’s an easy out and you don’t feel strong enough to ask the real question yet, so you give him a simple nod. He grins, scooping you up and gracefully sliding you both into the water, arm wrapped tight around your middle to keep you afloat. 

Colors flash around you as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, every color reflected there as well. Before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips. He lets out a surprised noise and then giggles when you pull away. 

“Do you wish to go again?”

Embarrassment fills you and you shake your head. “No. Um…” You take a deep breath. You can do this. “Will I see you again?”

Jimin’s face is unreadable for a painful stretch of time, though you’re sure it’s only a few seconds before he’s grinning. “I find myself quite taken by humans. I could certainly use a guide.”

You grin back, pecking him again. “First lesson, when humans like someone and want to spend time with them and go on dates, they give them kisses.”

He hums, giving you a kiss of his own, just a little deeper than yours. “I think I quite like kisses.” Then he grins and it’s full of mischief. “I think fireworks are my favorite though.”

You snort, prodding him with a finger. “You sure it’s the fireworks you like?”

He makes a thoughtful noise before nodding. “They make you luminous, sweet.”

[navalcriminalimagines]

summary: you became fuck buddies with Rafael after your friend Rita played matchmaker. As a FBI agent, you’re helping SVU during the manhunt of Yates and Rudnick.

words: 3,141

warnings: smut, pegging, sub/dom, sexting, alcohol

i’m very insecure about writing smut... let me know if i’m doing to good job or if i should stop... also, sorry for the typos..

High hopes

Rafael Barba wished he had stayed in bed today. The day kept getting worse and worse. He was stuck in Rikers Island for hours, only to find out that Yates and Rudnick escaped. He growled and wished he could go back to last night, in bed with you.

You met Rafael through Rita Calhoun, or so to speak. You waited in front of the courthouse one day, to go to lunch with your friend, and she was walking down with a handsome dark-haired man. She gave you a quick sign, telling you to wait a minute, but you walked up to them instead. “What don’t you understand in this sign?” she asked, raising her forefinger, just like she did a minute ago.

“I understand this one better,” you showed your middle finger, with a big grin. You heard her friend laughing on your left.

“Very elegant, Y/N.” she answered. “Barba, we’ll go back to that later. Giving you time to come to your senses,”

“To put your hopes too high, Rita,”

“You must be ADA Barba,” you interrupted them and offered your hand to him.

“And you are?” he asked, taking his time to shake your hand.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, FBI. Rita’s cutest friend,”

“Cute, indeed,” Barba agreed, even if he would say beautiful, sexy and powerful.

“Dear god, I’m gonna throw up,” Rita spoke up. “You know what, Y/N, I’ll give you his number and you’ll contact him so I don’t have to watch this,”

And Rita did give you his number. You tentatively texted him a few days after, to which he openly responded. In a few days, you and Rafael had your first physical encounter. Rules are simple; just sex, no feelings. Rafael was fine with it, casual relationships have been his thing for many years but it always ends because the other caught feelings. Never him. On your side, you just never fell really in love. You had boyfriends, you had feelings, but never enough to make it work. You know this comes from your sad childhood but you never wanted to give a try to some therapy bullshit. You were fine with it.

Sex with Rafael was amazing. Actually, ‘amazing’ is a small word to what it actually was. The best you ever had. But no chance in hell, you let him know that. His ego’s already big enough, he doesn’t need to feel more cocky in bed. It was so good though, it became more and more regular. You couldn’t get enough of each other. And as you started to trust more one another, you began to try new things. Try, discover.

You and Rafael were so damn compatible sexually speaking. And you both managed to keep feelings out of it. Or so you thought.

That day became such a mess, FBI got brought in. When Rafael saw you walking into the precinct, he felt his body reacting immediately. “Not the time to get aroused, Rafael,” he warned himself. But how could he not? You had that powerful strut, like you owned the room. Rafael had never been into badass women before, he likes that in men. But you were a badass and god how it turns him on. He thought about the few times you got dominant on him. He needs more of that. He needs more of you.

He watched you introducing yourself to Olivia, and then to the rest of the squad. When you finally noticed him, you just gave him a nod before walking over to him. “Field Agent Y/L/N, me and my team are here to find your two escaped prisoners,” you had a smile plastered on your face. As if it was fun to you. “Don’t worry, I do that every day of the week,” you added, loud enough so the squad heard.

“This is bad, Y/N,” he said, barely above a whisper. You could feel he was extremely tense, he must go through a lot of pressure because of the situation.

After a briefing with everyone involved in the search, you quickly grabbed your phone and texted Rafael.

When this is all over, I’ll suck the pressure out of you.

You can read him. He hates it. But your text got him more aroused.

Rafael stayed at the precinct all night long, waiting for good news. You were around somewhere, chasing after Yates and Rudnick. He was exhausted. He couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Find them, babygirl. I don’t know how long I can wait. He texted you. Was it bad to think about you, your body, your most intimate parts, in a time like this? Probably. But it made this night go faster. He’s an ADA, there’s nothing he can do, except waiting. Many times he was told to go home. He could have. But he wanted you to take him home. He didn’t want to leave without you.

Maybe he was screwed already.

Still up, Sir, huh? Can’t go to sleep without a good fuck?

Y/N, do you really want to sext during a manhunting you’re leading?

Dodds driving. He thinks I’m exchanging with my team. To be fair, I am. You like when we sext, don’t you?

You know I do. But this is not an appropriate time to make me hard.

Cause sending me a pic of you masturbating while I’m out with my friends is appropriate, maybe?

Aw, still mad about that, babygirl? I thought you liked it.

I did. But you still haven’t paid for that.

Wasn’t I a good boy last night?

Hell, no and you know it. A good boy doesn’t come until he’s allowed to.

Whoops…

More punishment to come, Rafaelito. Just you wait.

Damn. Be fast, Y/N.

Everyone was out there looking for the two fugitives, so Rafael went to the restroom. He was getting really hard and he just wanted to stroke himself. But he couldn’t. The guilt gets the best of him. He can’t masturbate in SVU’s restroom in the middle of a manhunting. This is highly inappropriate. He couldn’t help but to look at nudes you sent him, though. After the first one you sent, you asked for his phone and made it secure. He had to enter a password to access the files where all your pictures were. There’s one he particularly loves and it’s not nude you sent. It’s a picture he took one night, while he had you handcuffed to his bed frame. He had just made you cum with his tongue and fingers, you had bites marks and hickeys on your body. You looked desperate in a good way. Your lips were swollen for all the kissing. He stood up on the bed, with his phone in hand. “Wh—what are you doing?” You asked, out of breath and confused.

“Immortalising my work of art,” he said and snapped the picture. “You’re so damn beautiful when you come down from your high, with all of these marks I made,”

What was he doing? Was he falling for you? No, he can’t. You have rules. He just fell for your fucking body. Your perfect body he can’t stop thinking about. He gave himself a few strokes while looking at the pictures but he got stopped by a text from Liv, saying they got Rudnick. He became self conscious about what he was doing. He zipped himself back in his pants, answered to Liv and waited until his erection was gone.

It took a few more hours before you found Yates too. He had been shot by you. Rafael didn’t know what to make of it. You never talk about your job or his, he doesn’t know how you’ll feel about killing someone. Maybe he won’t have sex for now. He had to go to his office anyway.

Putting an all nighter isn’t for him anymore. Poor man was exhausted, so he allowed himself a quick nap on his couch in the afternoon. He woke up, too his phone and saw he had a text from you.

Meet me tonight? My place?

Yes, please.

He showed up at your apartment around 7. He still didn’t know what to expect. He knocked and heard you saying it was open. He let himself in. He had come to your apartment three or four times only, you mostly met at his place. But he loves your apartment, it was minimalist but cozy, with a specific smell that was yours. He spotted you on your couch, a glass of wine in hand and another one of scotch waiting on the coffee table. He dropped his suitcase next to your kitchen counter and went to sit next to you.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment.

“Exhausted. I’m too old for sleepless nights,”

He laughed at that. You’re younger than him. “Don’t tell me about it,”

“Why did you stay? You could’ve gone back home. An ADA isn’t much help in a manhunt,”

“You ‘do that everyday of the week’, I thought it wouldn’t take you long to get them and that I could go home with you,”

“Teasing me, Rafael? Aren’t you in deep trouble already?”

“A little more, a little less. Who cares?”

“Finish your drink and get on your knees in front of me, Barba,”

He was in deep trouble every time you called him ‘Barba’. He did as told, he took the last sip of his scotch and got on his knees in front of you, waiting for your instructions. “Undress me,” you ordered. He undid your dark cargo pants, you lift your hips so he could take it off you. He then took off your blue blouse. You were in your underwear, matching dark purple lace. “Matching underwear, huh?” He smiled.

“Did I say you could talk?” You snapped.

“No ma’am. Sorry,” he swallowed. He was so hard already.

“Your case is getting worse, Barba. I want you to make me feel good, okay? You gonna take that silver tongue on yours and make me cum hard in your mouth,”

He nodded and softly traced his way on your thigh to your pussy with his mouth. He gave you a few kisses above the fabric of your panties and he put them aside. You were so wet and hot. He loved it but he didn’t say anything. He lapped a few times your clit, made small circles with his tongue before he gently hit it and sucked. He heard you moan and felt your nails on his scalp. He could cum by just eating you, but he had to control himself. He failed you two nights before, he can’t do it again. Rafael ate you like a starved man, until he felt your muscles tensing. You came on his face, chanting his name as you did. He felt proud. You were still coming down your high when you ordered him to go into the bedroom and wait for you, naked on your bed.

Rafael waited for what seemed to be hours. He had no idea what you were doing in the living room. He was naked on your bed and his erection was losing up. You finally joined him, with a glass of wine in one hand. You took sight of you as you drank. He felt like a prey and he loved every second of it. The look on your face as you looked at him was overwhelming. He felt like he was some kind of a sex god. “Getting tired, Barba?” You asked, finishing your drink.

“Never,” he answered, eagerly.

You put the glass on your desk and got on the bed. Your body was covering his and you kissed him deeply. You felt his cock getting hard against your abdomen. “Do you trust me?” You asked. For a moment, there was no game. No dominance. You just needed his trust and he gave it to you with a nod. You smiled, kissed him again and went to your closet.

You knew about Rafael’s bisexuality and you thought he was the one you could try the fantasy with. You came back and dropped a box next to the bed. He had no idea what was inside but he couldn’t wait to find out. But first, you wanted to go down on him. Your body over his, you gently kissed his neck and chest, biting here and there. “Hands above your head,” you said. “You don’t touch me, unless I allow you to,”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, breathing hard from the teasing. He loves when you worship his body like this. It makes him feel good looking, sexy even.

“I’m gonna suck your big cock, Rafaelito. But if you come in my mouth, we won’t see each other for a long moment,” you warned him and he whined. “Show me what a good boy you are, or I’ll find someone else,”

Rafael tried to ignore the twinge in his heart when you said that. He doesn’t want you to find someone else. “I’ll be good, Y/N. I promise,” he breathed out. He was dying to touch you, kiss your body just like you’re kissing his. He was dying to fuck you senseless and ruin every other man for you.

The first lick you gave on his cock made him jump. “God,” he muttered. “Think about some boring law stuff,” he told himself. You took an enormous time licking and kissing his length before finally taking him in your mouth. You feel so warm, so good. You sucked him for a moment, you could feel his hips moving so his cock could hit the bottom of your throat. You watched him losing it. Rafael was fighting his urge to grab your hair and guide your mouth on him. You sucked his balls to give him a rest, but his cock was throbbing. He wanted to come, so bad. You went back to his long and heavy length, until you felt him grabbing your face and pulling you off. “I—I was about to—“ he was out of breath, “I’m sorry. Lo siento,” Rafael was all sweaty, his heart was racing so hard, he was sure you could hear it. “You’re so good—you—“ you shut him with a kiss and used your body to make him lay down again.

He took the opportunity to run his hands over your body. Since you didn’t say anything, he kept going and felt your skin under his fingers. He knew you were giving him time to recover, to gain control of his orgasm, but no matter what you had in mind next, he wasn’t going to last long. “Need a drink?” You gently offered.

“I—I’d like to, yes,”

He watched your ass sway as you left the room. You had grabbed your empty glass on the way, and came back with both glasses full. You sat to his side while you both drunk. He was staring. “Are you okay?” He asked.

You smiled. “Sure. Aren’t you?”

“On the edge,” he giggled.

You leaned in to kiss him. It wasn’t like the usual kisses. It was soft, tender, almost loving. “Your relief is coming, don’t worry,” you smiled against his mouth.

Once you both had finished your drinks, you finally showed him what was in the box. Among other things was a strap-on. You showed it to Rafael and saw his eyes darken. You needed his approval. “What do—?” You started to ask but he cut you off.

“Yes, yes! Yes, please,”

His reaction was better than you imagined. With a grin on your face, you jumped back on your bed and asked him to grab the lub from the nightstand. “To be honest, I’ve never done that before,” you giggled. Rafael could see you were a little tipsy - and maybe nervous? - but he trusted you anyway.

He cupped your cheek. “I trust you, Y/N. I’m all yours,” there was more means to this. He was yours in so many ways.

Before you started, he made one request. He wanted to be on his back while you fucked him with the strap-on. He wanted to see you, to look at you. He also wanted you to see him. Your looks make him feel so good.

After agreeing, you started to work on his butthole. You gently stroked with your saliva at first, and put some lube on your fingers before you slid one in him. He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. You gently worked on opening him. You were watching him all along, looking for any sign of discomfort on his face, but all you could see was pleasure. “Fuck me with it, please, Y/N,” he begged. Rafael was so hard, so excited, he didn’t know how long he could control himself.

You lined the plastic cock with his open butthole. “You can do better than that, Rafael,”

“Give it to you, I’m begging you. I need you to fuck me good, mi amor,” neither you or him paid attention to the pet name.

You gently pushed the strap-on into Rafael. Still staring at his face to see if it was okay, but he kept begging for more. After it was all in, you started to thrust into him. Slow and deep at first, you watched the plastic thing disappearing inside his ass, and Rafael’s cock rocking hard. “I’m gonna—I need to come, Y/N, please,”

Poor thing was on the edge more than he ever been. “Come for me, Rafael,”

He grabbed his cock and gave himself a few strokes until he came hard, screaming your name in the middle of Spanish curses. You were already soaking wet but the sight of him coming as you were fucking him, could’ve made you come too. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

As he was coming down from his orgasm, he saw you on the edge of the bed, fingering yourself. You needed the relief too. Rafael used his last strength to sit up and replace your fingers with his. He fingerfucked you and sucked on your nipples. You were holding him so close to your chest, he could barely breathe but he didn’t mind. He kept going until you came. He caught your moans with his mouth and watched you falling apart.

Screw the rules, he was in love.

Once you both came down, Rafael was scared you’d asked him to leave. No cuddling was also a rule. But tonight you didn’t care. You turned off the light and crawled into bed with him. “Does that mean I can stay?” He asked.

You tiredly giggled. “You’re asking now that I turned off the light?”

“Just wanted to make sure,” he said. “Can I hold you though?”

“Spoon or nothing,” you said.

Spooning you was perfect to Rafael.

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 4

Here it is!

“I’m so happy they let you stay here, at least for the wedding and all.”

“I am absolutely delighted, petite fleur.”

[little flower]

Lucien took Marie’s hand and looked at the ring on their fingers.

“I can hardly believe that I am now married.” He said.

“That’s what I should be saying.” She answered.

“How on Earth could you think that no man would marry you?”

“I’m not the marryin’ type. Just never saw the point of it.”

“Oh…”

“Until now.”

They exchanged a conniving smile and a kiss that of course Marie initiated.

“Lulu?”

“Oui.”

“I love you.”

He blushed.

“So do I, infinitely.”

And now it was raining. Hold on, how could it be raining, they were inside? And why was it so hot?

“Oh merde…”

Lucien woke up, or rather his hot tears woke him up. He looked at the time and it was barely 4 in the morning. He tried to fall back asleep after wiping his face with the back of his hand, but to no avail. So after fighting with himself, he decided to pull himself out of his bed.

He sighed and took a shower just to chase the last bit of hope for sleep away before realising that he hadn’t had anything to eat for more than 24 hours. So he headed out of his room and of his hotel, in search of some food. 

He found barely anything edible so he dragged his feet in a city that he started to hate profoundly until he found himself in a park. He sat on the first free bench he encountered and waited. 

For what? 

He thought that he would wait for the first few cafés to open up to get himself some decent breakfast. But in truth, the more he waited, the less he wanted to move. 

"Hey…" 

Lucien smelled the intrusion before he could hear or see it. It was a beggar. The poor man sat next to the prim one, who was still wearing his black suit. Lucien took a cigarette and lit it.

Ooh, that one was a good one, extra bitter from his fasting. Perfect. It burnt his trachea to the point of pulling the tears out of his eyes. 

"You up early, eh?" 

"I am." The Frenchman said. 

“Somethin’s on your mind?”

Lucien frowned and sucked on his cigarette harder. 

“I just lost my wife.” He coldly said and getting the words out of his mouth was both extremely easy and unbelievably hard. 

“Oh, wow… ‘m sorry…” The beggar removed his worn out hat. He scratched his bushy beard. “Is that why you’re out this early? Ya couldn’t sleep?”

“Oui, exactly.”

“I see. You don’t seem too old though, pal. The missus was young?”

“Younger than me, and infinitely better.”

“Arh… I‘m real sorry, man…”

“Mh.” Lucien sucked on his cigarette more and he realised that it was finished. He took his cigarette case out and offered one to the beggar, whose eyebrows jumped before he accepted. 

“That’s kind of ya.”

Lucien lit both of them and smoked again.

 “The worst part is that I wasn’t there for her.”

“In the end?”

“Non, all along. I barely was at her side, and wasn’t there for her last moments.”

“Why?” The beggar asked, seeing that his improvised bench-friend was now leading the conversation.

“Because I made the wrong choice decades ago. I chose my career over her.”

“So you left her all that time ago? But she’s still your wife?”

“Non, she…” Lucien raised a trembling hand to his brow, while holding his cigarette between his fingers. “She agreed to it.”

“What…?”

“She agreed to it. I was married to the only woman in the world who… putain de merde…”

[fucking hell...]

The beggar’s eyebrows were still up.

“Doesn’t sound like your typical gal, eh… Did she leave anythin’ to you?”

Lucien’s eyes slashed to the beggar’s and he might have shot bullets out of them. Money was a dirty topic and Lucien didn’t want any of Marie’s hard earned dollars.

“Don’t look at me like that, I don’t mean it for the cash! I meant like souvenirs or somethin’.”

Lucien exhaled and looked away.

“Only a letter.”

“Oh… What’s it say?”

Lucien frowned. It wasn’t like him to openly pour his life into the first stranger to come into his life. It was immensely dangerous. What if that man wasn’t a beggar but another, less than friendly spy? 

“She is asking me for two favours.”

“Oh ho, let’s hear it.”

Lucien took the letter out of his pocket and read it again, squinting at the letters to imagine the pen gliding, the ink absorbing into the grainy paper, all of this under her soft hand…

“When I met her, I was a singer.” Lucien started. “She is asking me to continue singing.”

“Oh, that’s sweet, eh. Women are like that...”

“Oui.” Lucien read it all diagonally again. He knew the letter by heart and it bore very little magic anymore, although paradoxically, it was the most precious object in the world. 

“What’s the other thing?”

“We… We had a son.”

“Had?” The older man asked. “Did he also…?”

“Non, he is alive and well.” Lucien folded the letter and put it back in his breast pocket. “She asked me to help him in life with a job. She thinks he is gifted.”

“What d’you work as?” The beggar asked.

“The worst.” Lucien answered.

“Well, a job’s a job, eh? Puts food on the table. Can you get him to work with you, whatever you’re doin’?”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped and he winced.

“Never!” He answered and almost jumped on his seat. “My occupation is a nightmare, a hell that is painfully real. I do not wish for anyone to follow my footsteps, especially him, because in the end, he will surely make the same mistakes as I did. He might choose his work over his own life and lose the only woman who ever understood him.”

“You’re wrong, pal.”

Lucien’s eyebrows jumped and he turned his head to the beggar. He was shaking his head.

“He might like the job, he might even be good at it, do something good with his life. And it’d put his Ma’ to rest too. Look, there aren’t any half-jobs, or bad ones. It’s only bad if you don’t like it. And if the wife’s seen somethin’ in him, then surely there is. Or maybe you don’t agree with her? Don’t you see him like she does?”

“I do not see him, full stop.” Lucien answered. “I do not see him because I was there for him up until his mind could remember me.”

“That’s when ya left?”

Lucien nodded.

“If you don’t mind me sayin’... That’s a hell of a mess you’ve lived through, man. I mean. You get married to a woman and you agree to live separated for decades you say? And you leave her with the kid too? Bit odd, eh?”

The Frenchman held his head in his gloved hands, his cigarette hanging from his lips.

“Besides… About your son, he's already lost his Mum. You're the only thing he has left even though it's tough with you."

Lucien sighed.

"Yeah, a mess of a life you built yourself, I don’t know how you’re gonna get yourself straight after all that.”

Lucien took a deep breath and stood up.

“I will not.”

He left the bench and walked some more. He carefully avoided any and all places that carried some souvenirs until he fell deep in thought. He didn’t see the streets, Boston waking up and going to work. Non, he only saw his black shoes swallowing more and more of the grey pavement, his heels lightly clicking with every step, stabbing his ears.

Cafés were opening thankfully and he entered the first one to cross his path. Lucien went to a table in the corner and sat down, with the window on his right hand.

“Hey there, how can I help?”

“A black coffee please.”

The waitress disappeared and he lit yet another cigarette. He saw in his metallic case that he was eating the cigarettes way faster than in normal circumstances. Marie would have told him off…

His coffee landed in front of him and soon, people started coming and going in the café, bringing some distraction to the grieving man. He had hoped that sitting next to the window would help with that too, but to no avail. 

He did the only thing he could to not let his mind play any more tricks on him and took a sip of the coffee. Ah, hot and bitter. It burnt his tongue and left an awful aftertaste that lingered all the way down to his stomach. 

Lucien frowned and put the cup back on the table before opening the letter again. His mind rolled and rolled. He would do anything for Marie, but would he have liked Jérémy to become a spy too? Surely the boy could do something better than that, better than himself. Yet she said that he was gifted and Lucien knew that she was an admirable judge of character. 

“Mh…” He grumbled and shook his head. 

He didn’t want his son to follow his path. It was way too dangerous, and for what in the end? Nothing. Nothing was worth losing his family and his life over. 

And then Fred's words came to Lucien. 

So that was the plan the Ministry had for his retirement, huh? Turn him into an instructor? Pfff… If he could, he'd burst into the Minister's office and he'd have a word with him! But Lucien was in America, thousands of miles away from the office that now doomed him further.

“What did he have?”

“A black coffee.”

“Bring me the same, yeah?”

“Sure thing!”

A silhouette appeared in front of Lucien.

“I see you haven’t killed anyone yet, eh?”

Lucien frowned and still refused to make eye contact with his American colleague.

“HQ is mad at the damage you did in the gym the other day.” He took his pack of cigarettes and lit one up as the waitress brought him his coffee. “They say they’ll make you pay for repairs.”

“What more do they want? Do I need to bury myself in the ground next to Marie for everyone to leave me in peace?” Lucien answered in a sigh.

Fred fell silent for a moment, looking at people coming and going. He waited for Lucien to drink a bit more to start the conversation again.

“Managed to sleep at all?”

Lucien eventually raised his eyes to his American colleague. The dark circles around his eyes answered for him.

“Thought about what I told you the other day?”

“Oui, and my answer is non. I am quitting. This is it.”

“You might wanna reconsider that, pal.” Fred put the cigarette on his lips and took an envelope out of his coat pocket. He slid it on the table. 

“What is this?”

“Work.”

“For me?” Lucien asked.

“Yup.”

“Fred, I said I am quitting.” Lucien pushed the envelope back to the American.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell anyone yet. So here’s work.”

The Frenchman frowned and shook his head. 

“Non.”

“Listen, pal, you can resign all you want but they’re gonna receive your letter after they sent you this, so they’ll expect you to do this first. You can then try and ask them to leave without training a newbie, but I doubt they’ll accept. Everyone does that now. The hard days of the war in Europe are over. You and I were trained like no people should be trained, but that’s what makes us so good at what we’re doin’. They want us to pass on the tricks and all to the younger ones.” 

“I could hardly care less. I have nothing left on this Earth to care about.”

“Wouldn’t that exactly make you the best spy?” Fred asked and Lucien stared in his eyes for a long second before averting his gaze. “Open the file.”

Lucien sighed. He hung his menthol cigarette between his lips and pulled the file to himself before opening it. His stare was still slicing through Fred’s.

“I am not doing it out of anything but my own curiosity.”

“I know.”

The envelope yielded and Lucien retrieved the papers and pictures. The French spy read the file diagonally. He knew how mission orders worked all too well. 

“Seems easy enough, doesn’t it?” Fred said, observing his friend discover the mess of a file he had been handed. “And yet, we’re up against the Soviets to find that guy before they do.”

“This might seem easy,” Lucien answered and removed the cigarette from between his lips to tap it against the ashtray. “However, above anything else, this is an American problem.” He put the papers and pictures together and slid them back into the envelope before sliding it back to Fred.

“Yep, you’re right.”

“It doesn't bear any sign of it being given by the French government. We have no input in this.”

“Yep, absolutely.” Fred sucked on his cigarette and blew the smoke away. “But this thing here, it’s been botherin’ me and my friends for far too long.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow. How was that any of his problems?

“So here’s the deal. You do this for me, and I’ll pay for the repairs for the gym in your place.”

Lucien burst out laughing.

“You do surprise me, Fred. You should know me better than this.” He scoffed.

“Yep, so let me put this differently…” Fred shifted closer to the table and laced his fingers together. He bent closer to Lucien opposite him. “This is my pay back.”

“What for?” Lucien asked arrogantly.

"You owe me, Frenchie."

"And what for, huh?" Lucien scoffed.

“Mary.”

Lucien’s smile shattered and his brow furrowed. 

“Listen, pal. While you were tourin’ the world and huntin’ Nazis and all, someone here had to look after the missus. More than twenty years I kept an eye on her for you, for nothing more than friendship. Now, I’ve got this case,” Fred pointed at the envelope, half annoyed and three quarters fed up. “The guy’s a goddamn pain in my ass to get, been on him for years and the Soviets might be closer than we are to get him.”

“So you blackmail me because you are desperate?” Lucien hurt him back, clearly signalling that he did not appreciate Fred’s way of doing things. 

Fred frowned and sighed. 

“I blackmail you because I’m stuck and you’re the best spy I know, you fancy ass.”

Lucien shook his head and smirked.

“I am indeed exactly that, without a doubt, you mannerless primate. But Marie is dead and gone. I have nothing left that ties me to this job or this life.”

“You got your son.”

“And?”

“The kid’s homeless and jobless. Good at baseball but absolute shit at school. He’s never gonna be as successful as his dear Papa.” Fred arrogantly answered.

“Do not speak of him.” Lucien looked away and contained his anger but Fred knew his friend all too well, and his reaction there betrayed his emotion. 

“Take him in to help. You’ll spend some quality time and hit all the birds in the world with one stone. You’ll do me a favour and you’ll get him a job and a future, and!” Fred raised a triumphant index finger. “You’ll train a rookie so they’ll be very happy high up. And who knows? The kid might have gotten somethin’ from you after all, eh?”

Lucien frowned. 

“After all that, you can call it quits. Just vanish again, fly back to Paris or the fuckin’ Moon for all I care. You’ll have cleared your slate.”

Lucien sighed in exasperation. 

“I will not involve him.”

“So you’re gonna let him be jobless, homeless and orphaned longer, eh?”

“He is not an orphan.” Lucien’s jaw was tense. 

“It’s all the same. Lives with his auntie now and two little cousins who look up to one bad slice of an example. I don’t want to hurt you further but the kid doesn’t listen, he doesn’t stay home. He spends his life outside and doesn’t have anything to do, he’s practically in a limbo of his own. You and I both know what happens to kids like that. They either finish on our side of the bars or the other.”

Lucien winced at the thought of Jérémy breaking the law, getting caught and sent to jail. What would Marie think…?

“Best thing you can do is just do it. Go through it and get done. You don’t even need to tell him you’re his Dad! And you don’t have to babysit him either, he’s overage now. Can vote, go to college or buy a gun and make his life a livin’ hell and fuck Mary’s efforts up!”

Lucien held the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“You do as you wish, pal.” 

Fred crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up before he left the café, leaving the envelope on the table. Lucien watched him and waited for the American to be out of sight before cursing in his mother tongue. His fingers slid to his head and he grasped handfuls of his hair, staring at the bottom of his near empty coffee cup. 

[friendofspidermannedleeds]

Fictober Day 2

Prompt #2: “you have no proof” Fandom: Spider-Man (MCU) Rating: Teen+  Warnings: None Characters: Ned Leeds & Peter Parker  Words: 1618 Summary: Ned gets kidnapped and does not play it cool.  

Nothing Like the Movies

Ned startles awake in a small, dingy room with crappy lighting.

All he can see is brick walls and a metal door, and all he can think is that his head is spinning and he’s horribly nauseous.

He tries to rub his eyes but find his hands tied tightly, painfully behind his back and overtop a metal chair. He takes stock of the other aches and pains that come into focus—his entire body is stiff and sore, and he’s desperate to stand and walk it off—but his feet are tied, too.

Oh.

Oh no.

Ned’s pretty sure he’s living through his first real kidnapping.

He shuts his eyes, attempting deep breathing exercises and trying not to panic.

Ned’s been awake for all of ten seconds and this is already nothing like he’d imagined a few years back when he first saw Peter in the suit. He’d thought then how cool and exciting it’d be if the bad guys realized how vital the Guy in the Chair was to Spider-Man’s operations and brought him to their evil lair with their evil cronies. He would play it just like a hero in a movie—remaining calm, cool, and collected in the face of adversity.

Yeah. He’d been an idiot.

Because this isn’t like an exciting at all, this just sucks, and he’d rather be anywhere but here right about now, and he has a college visit planned for this weekend and his family is probably freaking out, and how long has he been missing and has anyone noticed yet and Peter sure as hell had better notice because it’s almost certainly his fault Ned’s in this mess and he’d like to be rescued now before some evil mobsters come in and do that monologuing shit he assumes all villains do.

But no, he can’t start spiraling, he’ll need to have his wits about him when the cronies do come in, he has to get his story straight—but what is his story, exactly?

It’ll depend on the reason they kidnapped him, obviously, and he honestly has no idea why he’s here, unless someone figured out Peter’s Spider-Man, which, duh, of course someone has, it’s not like villains are in the habit of picking up random high schoolers off the street and tying them to chairs in random warehouses (he assumes that’s where he is, it’s always a random warehouse), and anyway, if he’s somehow been captured by a random serial killer and not an enemy of Spider-Man, at least he’ll be featured on MJ’s favorite true crime podcasts.

His heartrate increases exponentially at that thought, so yeah, okay, maybe let’s not think about the serial killer stuff…

Ned returns his focus to the breathing exercises. How do those work again? In for four, out for seven… no, hold for seven maybe? Seven seems like an awfully long time, that can’t be right, holding your breath that long would surely make it worse, at the very best it’s not helping Ned at this moment. When they taught him this shit at school to “relieve stress during exam week” he never thought he’d be using the techniques here, in the den of a killer.

Ned wiggles in his seat as much as the tight cords will allow.

He really, really has to pee. Of all the injustices, this one suddenly takes top prize. Because this is never a problem in the movies, the kidnapped hero never has to pee while tied up, and now that he’s here living this nightmare, he can confirm that is utter bullshit and who cares if it doesn’t make for great TV, kidnapped characters should have access to a bathroom dammit, this is entirely unreasonable and he’s thinking he might even try shouting into the void to see if someone will come untie him.

He’s not sure how much longer he can sit here like this—his shoulders are starting to cramp up from being pulled back so tightly, his head’s still spinning and setting in on a dull ache, he’s minutes away from pissing himself—who knew being kidnapped would be such torture?

Oh.

Oh shit.

Torture.

Ned cannot, he absolutely cannot, afford to be tortured. If the bad guys come in here and ask for information on Spider-Man he’s for sure going to tell them, he cracks under pressure on the daily for the most inconsequential of things, like his mom asking if he’s finished his homework, or MJ asking if he’s practiced his AcaDec flashcards, or Peter asking him to hack into a multi-million dollar suit.

Okay, so maybe that last one wasn’t so inconsequential—is there a possibility they know he’s Spider-Man’s hacker guy?

He hopes not, because if he’s tortured he will absolutely crack. It’s not a possibility, it’s a fact. Ned is simply not made for this kind of situation.

There’s a loud crash somewhere outside the room, then voices—angry voices arguing about something, probably what to do with the prisoner, and oh shit, Ned hasn’t even planned what he’s going to say or do yet, what if the bad guys come in and ask if he knows Spider-Man??

He has to think of something—something that won’t make him look like the weakling he is, who has more or less already thrown in the towel, who will, at this moment, gladly turn Peter Parker in for the promise of using a toilet.

He sets his teeth.

No.

No, Ned can do this. Ned has to do this.

Okay. He’ll play it cool, like it’s a scene from a movie.  

He shuts his eyes.

They’ll say: “We know you know Spider-Man, kid. And we know he’s your best friend, Peter Parker.”

And he’ll say: “You have no proof!”

Ooh. That’s good. Ned’s pretty sure he’s seen that in a movie somewhere.

But wait—that implies he thinks there is proof, and they just have to find it—shit.

He’s better off just saying he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, he’s just a kid who was walking down the street, minding his own business.

Speaking of the street, he’d do anything to be walking down a street again—anything not to be tied to this stupid, freezing metal chair in this stupid, cliché of a room.

Ned hears the voices again, louder, then shouting, then really shouting, and it sounds like maybe there’s some sort of scuffle occurring, and then—

The door busts open.

Ned’s heart beats faster than he’d thought was humanly possible. He instinctively looks at the floor, terrified of what he’ll see, unwilling to look the devil in the eye because this is not a movie, and he is not an action hero, and he sure as hell shouldn’t have to be.

“Ned?”

He looks up. The voice was the last thing he expected, and yet, the most welcome sound he could ever have hoped for.

“Peter?”

He’s wearing the Iron Spider suit, fully masked and already kneeling down to easily break the cords that secure Ned’s limbs.

“Oh my god Ned I’m so glad you’re okay—you are okay, right? You’re not hurt or anything?”

Ned winces as he bring his arms around the back of the chair and tries to rub life into his shoulders. He stands stiffly, supported by Peter’s hand under his arm.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I think. Just—that really, really sucked.”

Peter hugs him. “Ned, I am so, so sorry.”

And Ned has lots of thoughts and lots of questions, but none of them seem to matter right now, and all he can blurt out is—

“ialmosttoldthem.”

Peter’s mask retracts, and he stares at Ned. “What?”

“I don’t know what these kidnappers wanted, but if they’d come in and if they’d asked who you were or wanted to know something about you and threatened me I feel like I would’ve caved for sure and I just know I—I would’ve told them.”

He doesn’t know why he felt the need to share that information, or why he couldn’t seem to stop talking once the confession began pouring out, and he’s wishing he hadn’t said anything but he’s sure that wouldn’t have made him any less guilty, and—

“Good.”

Ned blinks. “I—what?”

“I said that’s good,” Peter says matter-of-factly. “Look Ned, I don’t know yet what these guys wanted—they were amateurs, pretty dumb actually because they didn’t get rid of your phone and that’s how I tracked you here—but honestly, if anyone ever kidnaps you or anyone else and wants information about me, you give it to them.”

Ned shakes his head. “But—but—”

“Ned, I’m a literal superhero. I don’t need protecting, I can handle pretty much anything. If you’re in a shitty situation, your job is protecting yourself.”

Ned’s shuts his mouth as he realizes it’s gaping open, and he doesn’t know why it was, because he’s really, truly not surprised.

Of course Peter would say that. Even if he wasn’t a literal superhero, he would say that. That’s just who Peter Parker is, and if being kidnapped every once and a blue moon is the price to pay for being his best friend, it’s worth it to Ned.

And the next time it happens, (hopefully an if, not a when), Ned’s not telling those kidnapper punks anything.

“Let’s go,” Peter heads out the busted metal door as Ned follows, “the police are coming for those idiots and we need to get you checked out. You need anything?”

“A bathroom,” Ned says immediately.

“Dude,” Peter nods with an empathy only someone who’s been kidnapped multiple times can share, “I am so sorry. Literally the worst. And like—they never acknowledge that in the movies!!”

“Right??”

[effieduan]

Peskipiksi Pesternomi || Morgan & Effie (& Friends!)

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & @effieduan & pixies

SUMMARY: Morgan needs to get her phone fixed and stumbles upon an unsettling scene in Effie’s shop.

CONTENT: karen :///

“I’m just saying there’s grease on my screen.” The blonde said slowly, as if Effie couldn’t understand her. Truthfully, Effie didn’t understand her, but only because this woman was an idiot.

Effie let out a sigh, finally putting down the teeny tools she was using to replace some teenagers' cracked phone screen. She thought she was done with this particular customer -- she had even let herself hope she was done with this particularly customer. This woman’s laptop had a bad run in with a llama (apparently) and wanted it back in perfect condition. Effie obliged after she was screamed at for telling her that it would be cheaper to buy a new computer. Do I look poor? Perfect condition meant a deep cleaning of all the grime that was caked onto the poor machine.

“Ma’am,”Effie said flatly. “Your screen is just clean.”

“No! It feels slippery! Look!”

Effie watched, face blank as Karen dragged her finger across the smooth surface of the laptop screen, leaving behind a fingerprinted smudge.

“Yes,” Effie said. “Because it’s clean.” The door opened, her telltale jingling bells sounding through the small store front. Effie looked over Karen’s shoulder. “I’ll be right with you.”

“You most certainly will not!” The woman was outraged now, and Effie sucked in a deep breath, wishing that the other customer hadn’t walked in so she could just go lock herself in her workshop in the back. “You will take my laptop back and clean all this grease off it this instant! I didn’t pay all that money for you to be lazy - I wanted this in mint condition so i wouldn’t have to buy a new computer, and you’ve made it all...All… shiny! It’s slippery and I’ll drop it again and just have to come back - is this how you scam people? How dare you!”

Effie stared at the woman for a long moment, before stooping behind the counter and picking up a sign she only used on particularly irritating customers.

THE TECHNICIAN HAS THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE. THIS MEANS YOU! GOOD-BYE!!!

After all the terrible things over the last two weeks, especially the thing with Erin and Betty, Morgan tried to kill her newly freed up time with Sundew and the pixies. Sometimes this led to impromptu spelling quizzes about the names of flowers. Sometimes this led to Sundew and Willowbud dropping her phone in the pool after trying to use it as a palanquin. Today was Actions Speak Louder Than Words, so the two tiny culprits joined her on the trip to the repair shop for ‘emotional support’ and to determine what they could do to make things better once Morgan found out just how bad the situation was. The rice trick hadn’t helped, so her hopes weren’t all that high.

Inside the shop, however, someone was having a much worse day.

“Her face looks like a balloon,” Willowbud giggled, hiding on Morgan’s shoulder.

“We should make it pop!” Sundew said, peeking out next to her. “And then make her get stuck on the ceiling so she can’t come down. Then she really really will be a balloon.”

“That’s cruel,” Morgan chastised softly, looking at the complaining woman. “Also, very conspicuous. And it’s...” She winced. “...human, in a bad way, to hurt someone just because you feel like it.”

“Does not,” Sundew hissed.

But the woman was being pretty human-bad too, and Morgan found herself wishing she’d put off teaching Sundew manners for another week. She had worked too many shitty jobs to have compassion for people who took off the edge off their existential powerlessness by yelling at service workers. Maybe this woman would look better stuck to the ceiling.

When the girl at the counter came to her, Morgan made a point of smiling extra bright as she brought out the phone. “I just have a uh...phone problem. Swimming pool accident. You can let me know if it’s not worth bringing her back to life.” She side eyed the woman, who was rapidly taking personal offense to everything Morgan said by the look on her face. “I can also wait a while, if you need to take care of other stuff.”

The sunny smile of the other customer was oddly disconcerting, though Effie knew it was just because the other was being such a bitch. “Your phone?” Effie managed to ask. She even managed to register her saying swimming pool accident - which happened to be her least favorite repairs, but at that moment she’d take anything. At least this woman looked like she would even get a thank you. “I’ll take a --”

Effie didn’t get to finish her sentence when her bitch of a customer interjected. “You most certainly will wait!” she snarled at Morgan. If Effie believed in God, she would pray for the strength not to strangle this woman. Thankfully, she did believe in the law, and murder was currently illegal, despite picturing this woman’s head exploding. “And you don’t want to get your shitty phone repaired here anyway, she’ll just make it greasy -- honestly, I want my money back, and I want my computer back to the way it was!”

“Smashed and hardly usable because of a llama accident?” Effie asked. “I’ve already informed you that I’ll no longer be servicing you. You can leave now. Uh --” Effie glanced over at Morgan. “Ma’am, if you’d like you can go towards the counter. This will only take a --”

“I demand you --”

“And I demand you shut up!” Effie had never been great at customer service and was born with the shortest fuse of all her sisters. “I’m running a business here and if you’re going to act like a child without a brain you can stick your head and your laptop into a pot of boiling water. Leave so I can look at this woman’s phone.”

Sundew and Willowbud thought this was hilarious. Morgan had to pretend to scratch her shoulder in order to keep them quiet. “If we’re the h-word for only supposing to make her a balloon, how many is she? Do you think she ate them?” Sundew said.

“At least four,” Morgan muttered.

This made them laugh harder. Morgan coughed to cover up the noise. “Excuse me, sorry,” she said, clearing her throat for good measure. “See, that’s what you do when you interrupt someone trying to peacefully go about their day. And then, if you’re trying to get someone to do you a favor and be nice to you, you get a little more specific and acknowledge they’re actually a person and not a text bot in a bodysuit.” Her voice was gentle, but her smile cut sharp. “Like: you look really distressed, ma’am. I can only imagine what horrible things must be happening for you right now, or how badly you’ve been hurt, that you feel like you need to be like this. But you really don’t. And this young woman has made herself really clear just now. So maybe if this is that urgent, you should try calling tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna wo-oork,” Willowbud sing-songed.

Effie coughed, at least having the sense to hide her building laughter at her customers words. Oh, Morgan was so her new favorite customer, she would be getting a discount on her phone if she could fix the water damage. And if she couldn’t, maybe she’d toss in a free pair of headphones along with the cellphone recommendation pamphlet she’d give her. What confused her, though, was the soft sing-songing voice coming from the woman’s… hair?

Facetime, maybe? Or - wait, her phone was why she was here. Unless she had two? Effie was far more interested in the voice than she was her bitchy customer.

“I don’t think you have any involvement in this!” Karen snapped at Morgan, and Effie raised her eyes to the ceiling. Was this punishment for being an atheist? She made a mental note to tell that one to Eva the next time they spoke, she’d laugh.

“Actually --” Effie said, cutting off her tirade, “You are. She’s here to get a service done and you -- a person that will no longer be served -- are getting in the way of that. I guarantee she could have been out of here faster than this whole ordeal.” Effie paused, looking back at Morgan apologetically. “Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, of course.”

Karen stamped her foot. “I just want what I’ve paid for!! This is highway robbery! I’ll sue you!”

Sundew and Willowbud were doing that thing where they whispered and giggled and cackled at each other at the same time, and their already shrill voices were literally in Morgan’s ear and it was all she could do not to swat them away or laugh from how their wings tickled her neck. As they started scuttling down her sweater, she finally barked with laughter. “Sorry, sorry, uh. You’re very scary, ma’am. Truly.” Sundew’s feet were tickling her side and Morgan covered her mouth, snorting. “And uh, you really don’t have to worry about me,” she said to the girl at the counter. “I worked retail in Texas.”

As she spoke, the two pixies were writing on one of her post its and shoved their creation into Morgan’s hand. Morgan took one look at what they’d written (for writing in the dark, the penmanship was kind of impressive) and nearly choked on her voice. Maybe being on her own was making her lose her grip on her principles. Maybe she should stop spending so much time with pixies. Maybe a lot of things. But fuck it.

“Uh, but you know what, since all three of us seem to not want you here, why don’t you give me your name and contact info right here. I have some lawyer friends, and I’ll put you in touch. Sound fair?” She flipped the post-it as she handed it to the woman, obscuring the writing on the front.

Retail in Texas? Effie raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t think I want to know what that means,” she said. Truthfully she couldn’t think of a place she wanted to go to less than Texas. Except maybe Arizona… Or, really, anywhere in the south. Effie watched as Morgan produced a sticky note from out of nowhere. Who carried sticky notes on them like that? Effie wondered if Morgan really intended on passing Karen’s information onto a lawyer -- though even if she did, she was certain that this blonde woman would be laughed right out of a lawyers office. Greasy computer her left butt cheek.

“Ma’am, I suggest you do as she says,” Effie said. “Before I decide to call someone to escort you off my property.”

The blonde woman looked at her in astonishment, “Excuse me?” she asked like she couldn’t believe the words that just left Effie’s mouth.

Effie just reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone and waving it threateningly. Of course, Effie would do no such thing. She was particularly fond of the police, nor did she feel like having more people crowded in her store. Even two was starting to make her a little nervous, if only because one of them was overtly hostile.

The blonde huffed in annoyance. “Well fine, then.” And she snatched the sticky note out of Morgan’s hand, looking Effie up and down as she did so, eyes lingering on the pair of bright blue gloves. “And I hope you choose a better wardrobe when I see you in court!!”

As soon as the woman signed the note, Sundew and Willowbud flew out of Morgan’s bag, tiny hands drawn into finger-guns. “Stick 'em up!” Sundew cried. “This here is a robbery! And you owe us big time!”

“Yeah!” Willowbud piped. “Highway robbery, missy!”

Sundew cackled. “Pew, pew!” Two bullets the size of melons shot out from her tiny fingers and zoomed straight for the woman’s face. She screamed, shielding herself, but on supposed impact, the bullets made a farting noise and erupted into a spray of rainbow fireworks.

“Sundew!” Morgan squeaked. In retrospect, she should have seen this coming. They had written When u rob me I will give all my money $$. Of course they would want to do the hold up themselves, supernatural secrecy be damned. She looked over to the girl at the counter, smiling through her panic. Please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out.

The woman, meanwhile, was wriggling in place as her arms forced themselves into her own purse for her wallet. Out came the credit cards, debit cards, store cards, wadded up bills, loose change, even a checkbook. Morgan didn’t even know people still carried checkbooks. The more the woman fought, the more her face turned a little purple, and for a second Morgan worried that she might actually burst like a human gore balloon.

As Sundew and Willowbud fluttered to the counter to surf and dance on their spoils, Morgan’s look at the girl at the counter turned desperate. “Those...drone robots the kids are making sure….look realistic, huh? I can...uh...make them give those back, if you want. Because, you know, the drones. Probably have...microphone...things. To listen with.”

Effie stared in utter disbelief. The little things with wings were cackling and shooting finger guns while this woman was making it rain the contents of her purse on the ground. Suddenly, the singsongy voice coming out of this other woman’s hair was making sense. Effie looked at her panicked smile and looked back at Karen, who was… Well, now she wasn’t very happy.

“Drones,” Effie repeated, eyeing the dancing creatures doubtfully. Drones her ass. Still, the look on the bitch’s face was really something to look at, and Effie let out a low laugh, shaking her head. “Drones! Right. Drones!” Effie was not the best actor in the world, but she was trying her best. “Well, it seems like maybe we should give the lady back her checkbook and cards. And I’ll take this --” Effie slide a wadded up ten dollar bill towards the little creatures, “-- as a fee for disturbing the peace. For the … Children, of course.”

“Maybe we should make her give up the rest!” Sundew said. She flew up to the woman, flitting this way and that, closer to her eyes. “What do you think, human? Do you think anything? Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you? DO YOU?” Sundew flicked her on the forehead. “Should we keep playing robber? Or maybe we should play tie ‘em to the train tracks instead.”

The woman, still a little purple and now definitely terrified for her sanity, took out a roll of bills from her cleavage and threw it on the ground. Finally freed from the request, she stumbled back and left the shop, too horrified to scream.

Morgan deflated, bending down to pick up the most conspicuous items off the floor and push them over the counter. “You should definitely take the checkbook and plastic,” she mumbled. “They’ve learned to type, and I really don’t want to learn what their taste in online shopping is.” She put her head over her arms and stayed there, looking sidelong at the girl. Sundew and Willowbud were too pleased with themselves to care much. Like many fae, they assigned value by shininess and aesthetic more than anything else. For now, at least. “You’re taking all of this really well. Tiny ‘drones’ flying out of a woman’s purse the middle of your store, harassing your customer, playing--” she looked back at them and shook her head, despairing. “I don��t even want to know. But, I appreciate it, and if you can handle mailing that harpy of a woman her sensitive stuff back, I can compensate you extra for the...mess.”

The woman fled from the shop, forgetting all about her greasy laptop and all of her personal belongings now scattered about the store. Effie stared after her in somewhat impressed astonishment. She looked at the woman bending to pick up the checkbook and plastic, and nodded as she grabbed it and the computer, automatically going to the safe. “I can ship it out tonight,” she said simply with a shrug. “She left her address on file, and I think her license is somewhere in that mess too.”

“Uh --” Effie looked down at the two little creatures. “Well, uh…” Actually, it was probably a good idea to check in to see how she actually felt about the existence of … these things. Fae. Had to be. Her grandmother’s warnings echoed in her head along with the insistence that she eat more dinner. “I’ve been around,” was all she said. “And I don’t particularly… ask questions unless I need to know.” It was simpler that way, anyway, and it kept people at arm's length, which is what she liked.

She stooped under the counter and pulled out paperwork -- the ones to start a ticket. “Your phone’s been waterlogged, right? Just fill this stuff out for me and I’ll take a look to see if there’s anything I can do. And you two…” she looked down at the two creatures. She looked back at Morgan. “Uh. I have candy??”

Morgan’s tired face brightened with relief. Slowly, she smiled. “Wow. I think that might actually be a first. I’m guessing that’s how you and this place are still standing.” She grabbed the paperwork and filled it out, writing a little ‘no promises’ in the corner, punctuated with a smiley face as a warning.

At the mention of candy, Morgan checked back in on the two pixies, who paused in their frolicking to proclaim, “We accept your tribute!” before going back to making the dollar bills roll like a mini ocean. “You really do know what you’re doing. I had to ask an expert to figure that one out,” she marvelled, sliding the pad over. “I know these aren’t the most auspicious circumstances, but my name is Morgan Beck and you just became my new favorite person in town.”

[horrorslashergirl]

Could I request Chromeskull with a s/o who's much much much richer than him and they jokingly ask him if he could be their sugar baby

Chromeskull x Reader- Playing Therapy

A knock at the huge double doors of Jesse's home pulled him from his thoughts and he grinned, moving to open it with excitement, seeing your face plastered with a smile that turned into a grin as you saw the 6'7 tall man.

"Jesse!" you greeted him, pulling him into a hug, one of his hand coming to ruffle your hair, making you punch his shoulder lightly.

'It's good to see you, doll.' he signed.

"Likewise, Cromeans." you told him with a smirk.

He invited you inside, guiding you to the living room, where a bottle of whiskey and two glasses were along with a silver box of cigars. Jesse invited you for some drinks.

No, you two weren't together, but more like very good friends, always talking and going out for fun, joking and having a good time. You were a nice fresh of air, so sincere in all your words and actions. It was nice to spend time with someone who wasn't interested in his money or status.

Why would you? You were just like him, CEO of your own company, making your own money, not depending on a man to buy you nice things or go onto vacations.

You sat down on one of the black leather armchairs, making yourself as comfortable as possible.

'It's weird to see you dressed like that.' Jesse signed, motioning to your attire.

You looked down and chuckled. You were dressed in a pair of black jeans, one off-shoulder graphic t-shirt, and red converse.

"They are comfortable. All the elegant and put together clothes something can make you feel a little stuffy." you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

Jesse chuckled silently, pouring two glasses of scotch with some ice cubes, handing you one.

'You still look very good.' he signed flirtatiously with a smirk and you giggled in response.

'So, how's work?' Jesse changed the subject and you sighed tiredly.

"It's sucking the life out of me, but I love what I do. No pain, no gain." you answered, taking a sip of your drink, licking your lips.

Jesse chuckled and nodded. He could relate to being a workaholic, feeling you. He pulled out a cigar from the box, handing you one, making you grin, eagerly taking it. You both lighted them, taking deep drags of the tobacco.

"I really needed that." you said, resting the back of your head on the plush armchair.

"So, Jesse. How have you been? We haven't talked for a month." you said, looking at him curiously.

'Been busy with business trips. The last trip was a nightmare, couldn't get that girl off my shoulder.' he signed with an exasperated sigh.

You laughed at his response, remembering what a ladies-man he was, all the exciting hook-up stories he told you always made you laugh.

"Hey. I cannot blame her. You are a captivating work of art." you told him with a wink, making him smirk smugly at you.

He knew you were accurate, always were, words sincere and always made him feel funny. They weren't said because you would gain anything from him.

You were so different from the other woman or rather said piggies. You could go from a classy and elegant woman to looking like a teenager now dressed like that. Not sluty, no. You weren't the type to flaunt your body like you were some model. Maybe that's what made him attracted to you.

Yes, Jesse Cromeans was attracted to you, ever since that day when he partook into a business meeting and you came a little late, not exactly dressed business-like with a simple pair of jeans and plain white shirt.

Your mind spoke more than your looks, especially with your witty remarks that put arrogant and snobby people into place like they were struck by a lightning.

Back to now, as you took another sip of your drink, your brow furrowed and Jesse knew something was bothering you, and he had a pretty good idea as to why.

'Divorce going well?' he signed a little reluctantly.

You always assured him if he needed to sign something he just should. Honesty was a very big deal in any relationship for you, be it lovers or just plain friends.

A groan left your lips at his question.

"Yes, but the process is such a knife in the back. You try to get it out, but you cannot reach the handle to pull the blade out." you said, and Jesse smirked darkly at your dark sense of humor, so morbid sometimes.

Another plus of why he was head over heels enamored with you.

"At last, I won't have to deal with my mother-in-law." you added, stretching your arms above your head.

Jesse could relate to that sentence. When he was married, his mother-in-law was like a very nasty that you just cannot get off. That old leach was always sticking her nose in his business, always had something to say and remark.

He remembers all the times he wished to skin the old hag alive when she showed up unannounced, the times she dictated to Jesse how to do his job as a husband. That woman tried to look all sweet and shit, but he just wanted to murder her, make it look perhaps like an accident.

'I feel you, doll.' he signed to you with an assuring and pity smile.

You smiled back at Jesse, remembering when he told you what he went through, but you never once pitied him, more like supporting him, but never once made him feel any less.

"I know, but sometimes I just wanna get rid of her, make it look like an accident." your mind spoke to earlier.

Oh? Now, Jesse felt like he won the jackpot when the cruel words left your mouth.

"Sorry! I wasn't supposed to say that. I guess I am just irascible now. Haven't had a good night's sleep in a long time." you quickly said, your face morphing into one of shame.

Jesse waved his hand in a motion that told you not to worry about it.

'It's normal to feel like that. Get everything off your shoulder. It's good to talk about your thoughts and what's bothering your mind, darling.' he signed and you raised an eyebrow.

"Wanna play therapist with me now, Cromeans?" you joked with a chuckle in which he returned with a huff of silent laughter.

'That's something I love about you. You always speak your mind loud and clear.' he signed, and you blushed at his unspoken words. The word he used 'love' was making you feel a little more than chatting with a friend.

"Anyway...In a week or so I hope to finally have the divorce solved out, so I can have everything out of my hair. My ex-husband is going to be finally just a memory." you added, somehow more relaxed, sipping on your scotch.

'And back into the dating game?' Jesse signed curiously, wanting to test the waters.

"Most likely not. You know it, Jesse. People like us don't really have that good luck. Comes with the price of being the CEO of your own company. It's hard to maintain a relationship with people like us." you sighed, most afraid of being lonely than anything.

'Going to get a sugar boy?' he asked with a cheeky smirk and you almost choked on your drink, giggling.

"Why are you asking me that? Better yet, why don't I be your sugar baby?" you joked, laughing at your own question.

Jesse, on the other hand, didn't laugh, maybe because he was taking the jokingly question a little too seriously, he was actually considering it, but it was also pretty ironic because he didn't have anything you might need, considering you were pretty wealthy yourself.

'Do you want to?' Jesse signed, licking his lips.

You stopped laughing and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You know I am not the type, dumbass." you remarked, finishing your drink.

'You don't have to. We can always roleplay.' he signed, wiggling his eyebrows, making you smirk and roll your eyes.

"You are so despicable, Cromeans." you shot back.

'Why, thank you, doll. Your words always make my manly ego purr.' he shot back, again.

The rest of the evening, you talked, joked, spoke of old stories, to the point where the bottle of whiskey was finished and the living-room smelt of rich tobacco smoke.

At some point, you ended up on Jess's lap, enjoying the closeness, the liquor making you now a little bolder than you would be as sober. His brown eye looked down at you with intrigue, loving how you fit into his embrace, his fingers running through your hair.

'We should do this more often when we aren't busy with work.' he signed, making you smile and nod, your head rested on his chest, the smell of tobacco and expensive manly cologne invading your nose, making you be putty in his arms.

"Indeed. It's nice to have someone who enjoys spending time with you without a certain greedy reason." you admitted, making Jesse's heart beat faster.

'Maybe next time we can have dinner?' Jesse signed and you smirked up at him.

"Are you inviting me on a date, Cromeans?" you asked smugly and he smirked back at you, his scarred face inching closer to your own.

'Maybe?'

Your response was to move your lips closer to his, his brown eye blown wide, waiting for your lips to finally touch, only for your half-lidded eyes to close and you blacked out, breathing into his chest.

You fell asleep.

Jesse's chest rumbled with a chuckle, his lips touching the top of your head.

You sure were an interesting one.

[lukneetoonz]

Ghost of You Part II

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Summary: You were the greatest thing in Katsuki’s life…. now you’re gone.

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, angst, violence, and just very sad.

Word Count: 2,518

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long for this, tbh didn’t mean for another cliffhanger but it was too good! Thank you anon for the inspiration for this one. Def will have a part three and I’m hoping that will be the end.

NO ARTWORK POSTED IS MY OWN AND IS FOUND ON PINTEREST

——————————————————————

Running. That’s all you remember doing and that’s all you were doing currently. Panting, you focused on the world in front of you as tears poured down your cheeks. Out of all places he could be, Bakugou Katsuki was where you went so you could forget about him. Not to mention he was looking like you were the one who broke his heart, not the other way around. You wanted forever, he wanted a fling. He took your heart and tossed it in the trash, yet the first thing you wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything was gonna be okay.

“Y/N!! Please!” Katsuki’s raspy voice called out and you could hear his footsteps get closer to you, making you only run faster as you tried to make as much distance between the two of you that you could, if you got near him you knew you wouldn’t have much self control… no matter how much hurt he caused. Even if he stomped on your heart, he still had it. He still had your love, and that’s why you were still in pain.

“Princess! Please! Give me just 5 minutes! That’s all I need to explain!” Explain? That one word made you stop as you went tense and turned around, body shaking as you stared the blonde down. “Explain? How could you possibly ‘explain’ anything? It’s what it is K- Bakugou!” The fact that you weren’t even saying his name hurt, it was like a knife driven through his heart as he finally slowed down to be in front of you, only to have you back away like he had a disease.

“That’s not- please… I fucked up okay? But I love you! Only you! It was a mistake, and- without you I’m nothing.” His voice was weak as he gulped, clenching his fist and looking at you, trying to see how you reacted but couldn’t tell. Your own body shook with heartbreaking sobs as you looked away, lip trembling. “Love me… that word means something! You can’t throw it around when you want because you’re a douchebag! If you love someone, you wouldn’t have cheated on me, with camie out of all people!!”

Your words made him flinch as you cried out, each word hitting at a different level. Katsuki bowed his head in shame, suddenly feeling very aware of where you both were and the circumstances of you meeting again were. Groaning, he looked up at you with pain filled eyes as he tried to reach out to you, but you were quick to rip away from his touch, the touch that used to bring you comfort. “Y/N… please. Please” Dropping to his knees, the man that was supposed to be one of the strongest hero’s latched onto your bottom half like a child clinging to his mother.

His tears soaked through the fabric on your stomach, the whimpers leaving his mouth made you cry harder. “Please give me another chance. I know I don’t deserve you, but please- fuck… I- I can’t live without you. It hurts to even breathe without you.” Every word he said was the truth as he pleaded to you in the middle of a sidewalk in the night, the only thing illuminating you was the street lights. As you clasped your hand over your mouth, you gasped for air. “I-I can’t… it hurt so much… you hurt me so much.” Your broken words made Bakugou tense as he sucked in breath, nuzzling his head into your stomach more.

“Please… please. I love you so much… please. I’ll do anything Y/N. Anything at all. Please just take me back.” As much as you wanted to, as much as his words cut you to the core, you pried his arms off you and backed away. Shaking your head, you whimpered and took in his state, this could be the last time you ever saw him. Just the thought killed you, turning away you walked off and didn’t stop until you reached your place, without anyone to go home to, it felt so empty. As soon as you entered the door you fell down to your knees and completely broke down, tears not stopping until you fell asleep.

*•*

2 weeks. 14 days. Yet, you still couldn’t get the image of the love of your life and your best friend getting down and dirty, out of your head. How could either of them do that to you? Bakugou was supposed to be your forever, Camie knew how much you loved him and yet she still wrapped herself around him like she was the one who had been with him for so long. If you knew she liked him, you would never have dated him! You would have stepped away and let her have him, saved your heart this pain. Why did she wait to do this to you? You couldn’t remember even doing something bad to her so she’d want to get revenge.

“Y/N! Let’s go apartment hunting today okay? You deserve to go out and get fresh air…” Uraraka came and rubbed your back as you sniffled, you turned to face her and your lip trembled. “Why did they do it? I thought he loved me..” Uraraka frowned sadly, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t know… you don’t deserve this pain Y/N… I think apartment hunting can help take your mind off of this, and then we can go out to eat.” You nodded and got up, hugging Uraraka back before getting changed. Looking into the mirror, you saw how puffy your eyes were, cheeks and nose red. Shivering, you frowned at your appearance and groaned, “Let’s go before I regret going out”

Uraraka nodded and quickly pulled you out, and you guys started walking to the apartments you saw for rent. The weather was beautiful, the sun shining down on you as the breeze was gentle. It was like a reminder that there are still beautiful things out in the world, and you started to believe it. After the third apartment, you and Uraraka decided to go get some food since your stomachs begged for it. Walking down the golden lot sidewalk, you laughed at Uraraka dancing weirdly before a hand was placed on your shoulder timidly, making you turn around.

“Y/N… can we please talk?” Emotions crashed through you as you stared at Camie, she looked just as bad as you. Her eyes met the ground as she started to cry again, hands playing with each other as she sniffled, “I know I don’t deserve it, and I don’t have an excuse or explanation, but I just- please can we talk?” It was something about how she said she didn’t have an excuse or explanation, that’s what caught your attention. Nodding silently, you gave Uraraka a reassuring look before leading Camie to a bench and sitting down.

“Go ahead Camie… talk.” Quickly she nodded and sat by you, but not too close as she gulped, “I’m a bitch okay? I don’t deserve your friendship and- I just… l was alone, and it didn’t help that I liked him when we were younger… I know I never told you, but I fell head over heels for him- so one night at the office, we were working late and I don’t even know who thought of the idea to open up some alcohol and then, I came onto him-” you interrupted her rambling as you stared ahead blankly, “How long?”

The simple question sent shivers down the girls spine as she looked away, even parler than before, “2 months…” Did it hurt more knowing? Or less? You couldn’t tell, but all you knew was the tears were building up and you could barely do anything to stop them. “For 2 months You fucked my boyfriend and pretended that everything was okay? You listened to me say how I thought he was pulling away, you listened to my relationship troubles. Yet you still spread your legs for him like the whore you are!” By the time you ended, you stood up screaming.

Red in the face, with hot, angry tears running down your face you stared at the ashamed girl. “Was It worth it Camie? Getting dick, but you ruin a relationship and your own damn friendship?! Was it worth destroying me?!” Your voice strained in frustration as she cried and shook her head, “No! Y/N! I was stupid! And selfish! I wasn’t thinking and- god I thought If it kept going it would've been better than a meaningless one night stand-” once again you had fury in your eyes “DID YOU FALL FOR HIM AGAIN?”

Camie looked away embarrassed as she clenched her jaw, “I- I want to say no… I want to say I didn't so badly… but I can’t.” You nodded and looked away, wiping your eyes, at least appreciating her honesty. “Did he- return the feelings?” Automatically her eyes widened in horror and she shook her head, “No! God no… I- it was always me texting and calling first… the day you- well you know, I saw an engagement ring in his desk drawer, that’s why I was in there.” It’s like your heart stopped working altogether as you tried gathering your breath, eyeing the girl down.

“Y-you tried stopping it?” Camie nodded with a sigh as she rubbed her face, “I’m sorry Y/N…. I really am.” Sniffling you started walking back to Uraraka, “Yeah… I am too. But hey, you got what you wanted right? He’s all yours”

*•*

You didn’t think seeing Katsuki would hurt so much, it’s like breaking up all over again. Of course it didn’t help that he tried contacting you through your mutual friends, but that only resulted in multiple people being threatened with a block. When you moved into your new apartment, you gathered everyone and made it very clear that Katsuki and Camie should never know where you live, no matter what. You weren’t going to chance one of them showing up at your apartment one day to try and say one of their half assed apologies… not again.

You transferred jobs, banks, everything. You practically started a new life, because the scar of your past one was too big. The news that was filled with the pictures of the beautiful ash blonde made you believe he had moved on, made you think he was okay. But you were wrong, and oh how you wish you didn’t assume things so silly. Katsuki was fighting crime like he was born to do, and from the news he was doing better than he has ever before.

But oh how little did you know. Katsuki was only working so hard because he wanted to get you out of his head, maybe if he worked hard enough you’ll even see he’s changed. That he’s better. Sadly for him he couldn’t get you out of his head, but luckily he’s only had to deal with easy villains so nothing he’s had to do than blink an eye. Until today. Katsuki had barely gotten any sleep since he last saw you, but he still worked, hell he worked double the amount of hours even if his body was screaming for rest. It took such a toll on him, even his friends started to notice.

“Bakugou… are you sure you should be working? You look like- well you look like shit bro.” Kirishima scratched the back of his neck only to sigh when he saw the glare directed at him, “It’s not your problem shitty hair. So what if I’m taking extra hours? I just want to group up my vacation days together.” Katsuki grunted out a lie that not even Kirishima believed, but the redhead knew he had to go along with it so he nodded. “Okay… but I'm here for you, that’s what friends are for.”

Katsuki couldn’t even reply before there was a loud explosion and screaming that followed, the heroes running onto the scene. Kirishima paled before activating his quirk when he noticed this was your new place of work. A group of villains spread out, two had taken hostages inside the building that was in flames, one of the villains seemed to have a quirk where his tattoos came to life, another looked like a feral child, one seemed to be breathing green like poison that was covering the streets and making civilians pass out, one of the ones in the building could make anything out of any non living object he wanted, like it was Plato so he had weapons, and the female had a the mutation quirk to make her look somewhat of a spider.

Fuck fuck fuck, they were outnumbered and these quirks- they were pretty fucking good. Katsuki snarled and started fighting, trying to keep them busy as they waited for backup. Kirishima fought alongside Katsuki, knowing you were here but he didn’t know what to say, how could he say something!? If he did, surely his best friend would do something stupid and reckless… that’s the last thing he wanted, because if Katsuki got hurt then you’d probably get hurt too.

Inside you stayed calm as the female crawled around you and your colleagues, her sadistic smile stayed as she wrapped another person In her webbing, “Awh c'mon my little babies, don’t be sad! I’ll be nice if you tell me where the hard drive is. The heroes trust you, so we know you have their personal information, if you give us their hard drive, then it will be fine.” You tensed at their words before standing up with shaky legs, “I can do you one better- I’m the girlfriend Of ground zero. A-and I’m best friends with all of his friends like red riot, pinky, uravity, chargebolt, you name it… but If you take me then you’ll get the heroes.”

Your words made the girl look at the man almost like they were sharing thoughts, before the girl smirked and in seconds she was by your side, biting your shoulder and you could feel poison being released into your shoulder. Crying out in pain, you fell to your knees as they mumbled something you couldn’t quite hear as you fell to the ground, whimpering at the pain in your shoulder that spread through your entire body. The last thing you remember before your world faded into total darkness was your name being called and a familiar silhouette running towards you.

*****************************************************

Taglist; @katsukiswhore @leeeah-loooser @do-not-talk-to-me-i-am-awkward @desia2 @katsukiwonu

[justseveralowls]

Your best verses your breaking point: From a perfectionist to society in denial

mental healthHello, once again spectacular individuals! Today’s post is covering a topic that I think is very important and doesn’t get enough attention. This post is not a call out or to shame anyone/ any habits, instead, this is a pattern I have noticed in friends/acquaintances, and struggle with myself. This is to share awareness and offer some help and advice. So if you think this could be helpful for you or a loved one please continue! 

So we live in a productivity obsessed society. Proof of this lies in everything from our media (youngest billionaire, world records, how to have it all…), our ‘normal’ timeline for life (high school, college, career, marriage, kids…), and even our economic system (glorifying 60+ hour work weeks and normalizing over time even when not compensated for efforts. We start being exposed to this even before we can understand. We are taught that above average is what is required, praised for working hard had no matter other costs, encouraged to give up things that bring us joy or help us in order to be ‘productive’. This trend leads to an obsession with winning a race/maze that doesn’t exist/never ends instead of going a path that is healthy and fulfilling. 

There are REAL consequences to this method of thinking that are detrimental and reaching epidemic levels. The constant need to do more, be better, do it faster, earlier and for less reward leads to constant feelings of inadequacy and stress. This leads to chronic anxiety, depression, low self-esteem, a decrease in motivation and even feelings of hopelessness. This is the burn-out epidemic, and arguably is a huge problem for mental health and humanity as a whole.

Now I am guilty as heck of this, I have been pushing myself past breaking for years, and it took nearly dying (twice actually) to get me to actually realize this. At my breaking point, I thought I was fine (okay J reminds me, I wanted to think I was) but it wasn’t until I was forced to stop that I realized just how bad the situation was. Now I will acknowledge that my chronic illness struggles and life-threatening mental health issues (eating disorders are terrifying and dangerous. Get help) made this crash much more visible, but even without those two things, I would have been living on borrowed time. What I am saying is you can’t live at your breaking point, not only is it unsustainable but it will mess. you.  Up. Sometimes permanently (#chronic illness sucks guys). 

Learning to do your best instead of pushing yourself to your breaking point is not only helpful, and healthy, but actually can be actually life-saving.

So now comes the inevitable thought of “okay R, that’s great…. But how the flip-flap do you tell the difference between doing your best and going too far/ hitting your breaking point?”. And that my friend is what the following list/ comparison chart if for.

First, let’s look at important things to know about your personal best. Learned from experience, or things I am still trying to drive into my head.

Everyone has there own best, and that is valid and deserves as much respect before anyone else’s

Your best can change, whether by day or year

Example: On my good days my best is three blog posts and a shift at work without debilitating symptoms. But on my flare days: my best is listening to audiobooks and doing symptom management.

Your best is what is best for YOU, not your parents, society, or anyone else. Your job in this world is to make your life as happy and healthy as possible and be not hurt others. 

Okay so with that out of the way… now a handy dandy chart:

This list is a good quick check to see if you are pushing yourself too hard. If you found you fell more in the breaking point category, that is okay, this doesn’t make you bad or your situation hopeless. There are things to do to get back from that point. You are strong enough to have a happy life with reasonable standards and expectations. You can do this.

Reminders/ affirmations to end what turned out to be a rather long post…

You have a right to say no (I have a right to say no)

You are not obligated to push yourself to your breaking point (I am not obligated to push myself to my breaking point)

You are allowed to put yourself first (I am allowed to put myself first)

The people who care about you will respect your needs and boundaries (The people who care about my will respect my needs and boundaries)

Self-love is not selfish

Self-care is not selfish

Your best is enough (My best is enough)

You define your meaning of success (I define what success is for me)

We wish everyone positive energy, rest and happiness. You are doing great, you are not alone, you can do this.

Keep fighting,

R and D

[jade4813]

Resolution

Fandom: Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist

Title: Resolution

Rating: G

Pairing: Zoey/Max

Synopsis: Sequel to Fallout and Repercussions (and episode 7 of the series). Zoey has finally figured out how she feels about Max, but when she tries to get up the never to tell him, Everything. Goes. Wrong. Will the two of them ever manage to get on the same page?

The clock on the wall read 6:22 a.m., and Zoey was already on her third cup of coffee for the day. She remembered with some regret the way she’d once expressed surprise at Joan’s suggestion that they share a drink in the middle of the afternoon. Her day hadn’t even officially started, and she was already wishing she had something to steel her nerves.

All the caffeine she’d consumed was making her jittery, the coffee roiling around in her otherwise empty stomach until she felt sick. She briefly considered grabbing some cereal or perhaps a piece of bread to settle her stomach, but the thought of consuming food just made her feel slightly ill.

She pressed her hand to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. She could do this! She had a plan! When Max showed up to work, she’d take him aside and tell him that she’d realized that she loved him and wanted to give their relationship a shot! How hard could it be? After all, she already knew how he felt about her, right?

Except…he’d been even weirder than usual with her over the last couple of days, ever since their last conversation, when he’d suggested she should go talk to her mom.

“Zoey? Uh…what the hell was that?” he’d asked.

“What was what?”

His eyes narrowed, he looked at her in confusion and concern. “You…you didn’t just…you didn’t hear that? Are you messing with me right now?”

Completely at a loss as to what he meant, she shook her head slowly, “Max, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Hear what? Did something happen?” she leaned to the side to look around him, scanning the office for something out of place.

He stepped back, running one hand across his face. “I’m losing it. Lack of sleep or…I-I thought you…I must have imagined it. It’s fine. Never mind.” She threw him a reassuring smile, but he hurried back to his desk and avoided her for the rest of the day. And for the two days since, although she occasionally caught him watching her closely, like he was trying to figure her out. Or as though she might bite.

“I don’t bite,” she reassured herself in an undertone. But what if his strange behavior was because he’d realized his feelings were all a mistake? What if he’d realized he wasn’t in love with her anymore – at least, not like that? She hadn’t heard any of his heartsongs since the night he coopted a scooter for her, after her dad fell. Was it possible he just wasn’t romantically interested in her anymore?

Zoey pushed away the thought with a grimace and a stern self-reproach. “Not. Helping.” Desperate for a distraction, she grabbed for her tablet and tried to focus on her work, instead. Her love life might be a disaster at present, but this was a language she understood. This came naturally to her, in a way that navigating her love life did not.

In her very first computer course in college, Zoey had been tasked with programming a robot to wind its way through a maze. She had managed to complete the assignment faster than any of her other classmates, going on to earn an A+ in the course at the end of the semester. When she took a step back and considered her current situation, it wasn’t that different. She just had to get herself and Max through the maze of confusion brought on by intense emotion and miscommunication. And then everything would work itself out.

Reassured by the thought, she shot a quick glance around to make sure she was still alone. Her day hadn’t technically started yet, so she took her tablet to an isolation pod and curled up inside to craft some code. By the time she started to hear her coworkers filter in, her simple program was up and running – a digital Zoey and Max, her programmable “robots,” were winding their way through a complex maze. She smiled when she programmed the code directing the two to lean in for a kiss (hearts showing above their heads and all) when they finally made their way to each other.

It was a silly little program, but it made her feel better. Maybe she was overthinking things. She’d tell Max she wanted to be with him, and the two would kiss. How hard could it be?

Lifting the sliding door to the pod, Zoey stepped out and stretched, working out some kinks that had settled in her shoulders. With one last reassuring glance at her ZoeyBot’s progress through the maze, she closed the program and pulled up her notepad.

Any project was possible, as long as one went in with a plan. Almost every task could be broken down into straightforward, manageable steps. Like programming code. Just take each step in turn, one after the other, until the task was finished. With that in mind, she jotted herself a quick note.

Get Max somewhere private.

Show him MaxBot?? (He’ll get it, right?)

Tell him you want to be with him.

Kiss.

Four steps. Possibly three, if she decided she was too embarrassed to show him her computer program. Three or four completely simple, totally manageable steps. Completely doable plan. Now all Max had to do was to show up, and she could put her plan into action.

Unable to sit still, she dropped her tablet onto her desk and headed towards the restroom. All that coffee was taking its toll, but she also hoped that pouring some cold water over her wrists could help her stay focused and calm. She lingered a few extra minutes to give herself a silent pep-talk and practice an eloquent speech about her feelings before steeling her shoulders and heading back outside.

She returned to the office just in time to see Max grab his tablet from his desk and head towards the wicker seats – the pattern of avoidance he’d established over the last couple of days. Hoping to catch him before he got too wrapped up in code and she lost her nerve, she darted to her desk and grabbed for her tablet.

“Max!” she barked abruptly, a shade louder than necessary. He jumped, startled, and spun around to look at her. Softening her tone, she offered him a sheepish smile as she asked, “Do you have a second? There’s something I wanted to show you.” Her program was perhaps a little silly, but maybe he’d find it endearing? She could only hope.

Before he could come up with an excuse to turn her down, she jogged up to him and pulled him aside. “Okay, promise you won’t laugh. I know this is a little silly, but I wanted to show you – uh –”

Her voice trailed off as she held up what she thought would be her tablet and realized that, in her anxiety and rush to catch him, she’d accidentally grabbed her stapler instead. She actually had a stapler? Why? She couldn’t even remember the last time she needed to staple something!

Max seemed equally as confused. “Your…stapler?” he offered. “It’s…nice.”

Completely mortified, her courage fled. “Ah…yes. My stapler. I was…um…wondering. If you had any staples. I think I’m out.” That was unlikely. It was probably holding the same staples that had come with it when it was shipped from the factory, for all she knew. These things came preloaded, right? She had no idea.

“Ah,” he replied, drawing out the word for several seconds. “I don’t think so. Have you tried the supply closet? There might be some in there.”

Zoey forced a laugh. “The supply closet! Right! Makes total sense! Duh,” she waved the stapler wildly, almost clocking herself in the head. “Thanks a lot, Max…i...million.” She heard the ill-advised nickname as though it was coming from outside of herself, from someone else’s mouth, and looked at him in horror.

His smile was uncertain. “No problem. That’s not really a nickname we’re planning to run with, is it?”

“Nope! No, we’re not!” she promised. Trying to cover for her gaff, she aimed a playful shrug at his shoulder to break the tension, somehow completely missing and punching the tablet out of his hands, instead. “That’s…oh, sorry! I’ll…I’ll replace that if it’s broken.” Maybe discretion really was the better part of valor, she decided, not even wanting to see the look on his face as she backed away as quickly as she possibly could before she accidentally broke something else.

It turned out programming code was much easier than telling her best friend she had realized he might be the love of her life.

Later that evening, once she was safely back at home and unlikely to humiliate herself any further, Zoey scowled to herself and she pulled up her ZoeyBot/MaxBot computer program. It didn’t take her long to add a giant, menacing stapler that chased ZoeyBot down the first section of the maze.

Then, heaving a heavy sigh, she pulled up her To Do list. It hadn’t served her very well so far, but she still had confidence in the basic premise. Make a plan. Stick to the plan. Don’t break anything. Check. With that in mind, she reviewed her list.

Okay, so maybe she was too nervous around him to make a smooth job of it. Was there any way she could take the actual confession part out of her hands? She mulled over the question as she stared off into the distance. Finally, it hit her. Balloons! Everyone liked balloons, right?

Grinning at the brilliance of her new plan, she pulled up a web browser and search for a balloon delivery service in the area. Once she found what she wanted, she placed the order for the next day. In the morning, a courier would bring her balloons, reading “I Love U Max.” The last was a specialty balloon – they’d write in his name, and the sample online looked decent enough. Before pressing the button to finalize the order, she gave it one last critical look. Love? No, she should go with the heart instead. Less awkward, she decided, hitting “submit.” The plan was in place! He’d see the balloons and…that would be it! Not risk of ambiguity or bodily injury!

Well, maybe not it, exactly. If they were going to be in a relationship, she was going to have to talk to Joan. She would hardly be able to hide it, since she was planning on confessing in the middle of the office. Once the cat was out of the bag, she wouldn’t be able to continue to be his supervisor. It wouldn’t be right. But she was confident they could find a solution. Feeling much better than she had an hour or so before, Zoey made a few revisions to her list:

Get Max somewhere private.

Show him Maxbot?? (He’ll get it, right?)

Don’t break anything.

Balloons arrive

Tell him you want to be with him.

Kiss.

She didn’t know the exact time the balloons would arrive; more like a narrow window. So she might have to take things a little by ear. But with a plan this solid, surely nothing could go wrong, right?

Right.

The next day, Zoey realized she’d been humming happily to herself off and on all morning, but she couldn’t help it. She was in such a good mood! This plan of hers was going to come off perfectly. When she walked up to the elevator bay and saw Max waiting for the doors to open, she threw him her brightest smile. “Good morning!”

He looked a little taken aback. “Morning, Zoey. You seem to be in a good mood today.”

She nodded. “Yup! I think it’s going to be a fantastic day. It’s just a feeling.”

“Well, then, I hope you’re right,” he replied pleasantly.

She considered taking the moment of privacy to go ahead and confess her feelings, but then others joined them on the elevator and the window of opportunity was lost. No matter. She had balloons! The balloons would not fail her!

“I don’t understand,” she told the balloon courier with an askance look at the two balloons he held out for her to take. “Where are the rest of them?”

Not appearing to be terribly concerned, he shrugged and offered in insufficient explanation and complete lack of apology, “We were out. My boss said we can complete the order next week.”

“Next week! That doesn’t help! I had a whole plan and now all I have to show for it is ‘U Max’. What am I supposed to do with ‘U Max’?”

He shrugged again. Clearly, it wasn’t his problem. She took the balloons from him with numb fingers and briefly considered letting them loose in the stairway to hide evidence of her failed plan when she heard Max speak behind her. “’U Max’? What’s this about?”

Come up with an excuse! Fast! She ordered her poor, beleaguered brain as she spun around. “Maaaaax-i-mus!” Again? Seriously? What the hell was wrong with her? “I got you these!”

“I can see that,” he replied, staring up at the balloons in question. “I’m just trying to figure out what they mean. U Max? Max U? Is this a secret code?”

Her laugh was forced, high-pitched, and veering on hysterical. “No! Of course not! It’s just a new…management plan I’m trying. I’ll be randomly bringing balloons in to people on the team. To let you know that, uh, well, you know. We…see you. And we…appreciate…you know, you. That is, you. Max. I read it in a book somewhere, I think.”

“Really? That’s a little weird. What book?” She would have thought he was on to her, but he sounded more curious than suspicious.

“Oh…I don’t even remember now. Would you just take your balloons?”

He reached for them. “Sure thing. Well, thank you for reaffirmation of my name, anyway,” he teased.

Her answering chuckle was almost genuine. “We spend so much time in this building some days, I thought there was a chance you might have forgotten.”

“Is that the reason for the new nicknames? Because, for the record, I don’t think I like Maximus any better than Maximillion.”

“No, but duly noted,” she replied with a forced smile, hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt as she returned to her desk. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Joan look over at her, Max, and the balloons and shake her head in bafflement before returning to her own work. Zoey was almost pathetically grateful her boss didn’t call her in to demand an explanation. She wasn’t entirely sure she could explain what was going on with her right now, even to herself.

When she saw him walk away and thought he might not see her, she rested her forehead on her desk with a groan, tempted to bang it repeatedly against the hard surface if she wasn’t sure that would bring her too much attention.

Why did her efforts to sweep Max off his feel keep going so haywire? What was she doing wrong?

“Mo, this is getting out of hand. You have to help me!” she cried, pacing back and forth in her neighbor’s living room. Saying it was “getting out of hand” was probably generous. Things were getting downright dire. Her plan was on Day 4, and it had just been one disaster after another.

“I’m not sure there’s any help for you,” Mo offered, shaking her head. “Have you tried just talking to him?”

“Yes! I tried today!”

Mo sat back on the couch. “And?”

“Aaaaand…I decided I would casually drop it in over coffee. But I didn’t realize my ZoeyBot program was up on my screen, and he saw it and asked what it was. One thing led to another, I freaked out and tried to cover it up, and I accidentally…kinda…tripped and…threw an entire cup of coffee at him.”

He blinked. “Wow. I knew you were a mess, but I think you may be even more of a mess than I realized.”

Zoey moaned and sank to the couch beside him. “Really? It’s not even remotely a surprise to me.” Closing her eyes, she leaned back and mulled over her predicament. Then she bolted upright. “I know! What if I do a some kind of flash mob for him?”

“No.”

“What? Hear me out! I get a bunch of people together…”

“No.”

“…and we do some kind of song…”

Mo put a hand on her arm. “Let me stop you right there. So far this week, you’ve brought him a stapler. You got him exactly half of your love confession in balloons, but not even the half that would actually convey what you wanted him to know. And you tried to give him third degree burns. You really think you can get through a whole choreographed dance number without breaking something? Like yourself? Or him?”

Zoey had to reluctantly concede the point, but she wasn’t quite ready to let this idea go. Remembering how she’d imagined him singing outside her window, she suggested, “So what if it’s just me? I could bring a boombox with me and sing outside his window. I saw it in a movie I watched with him once.”

Mo threw her a skeptical look. “Do you even have a boombox?”

She shrugged. “No. Do you?” His answering stare spoke volumes. “Okay, no background music. Just me.”

“Uh huh. And what would you sing?”

“I don’t know; I’m sure I could come up with something. Like, ‘Oh, my lo-‘”

“Nope.”

“Okay. What about, ‘It’s a little bit fu-‘”

“Absolutely not. You should not sing for him. Trust me.”

“But I –” she began.

“No.”

She broke off with a groan. “Okay, what do you suggest?”

Mo sighed. “The same thing I’ve been suggesting all along. No props. No gimmicks. Just walk up to him and find a way to casually drop into conversation that you want to have lots of sex and babies.”

“Are you actually dropping a Love Actually quote on me right now?” Zoey asked in disbelief.

“I’m trying to speak your language,” he replied flippantly, breaking into a grin.

She rolled her eyes as she rose to her feet and headed for the door. “All right. Fine. I’ll just…tell him how I feel. There’s no chance that can end in disaster!”

The table was set. Dinner was in the oven. Zoey was wearing her best dress. She paused long enough to make sure she had matches to light the candles in the candelabra she’d borrowed from her parents’ house earlier in the day, then checked to make sure his jacket was hanging by the door.

She’d gotten Max’s jacket from her mom when she stopped by to visit earlier that day. He’d apparently left it at her parents’ house by accident a few evenings prior, when he’d stopped by to bring her dad some soup from his favorite restaurant across town. It was as good a pretext as any to get him to Zoey’s place, where she would serve him a romantic dinner and confess. Everything.

Wanting to make sure everything was ready, she grabbed her tablet to review her plan one last time. Her (many-times) revised list read:

Get Max somewhere private.

Show him Maxbot?? (He’ll get it, right?)

Don’t break or burn anything. or anyone!!!!!!

Balloons arrive

Bring him coffee

Dinner at home??? “Ham is easy but shows effort”

Make it romantic (candles, yes! Flowers, no. Don’t take your chances)

Music! (Mo says no singing Sing if necessary)

Touch nothing hot until it’s over

No liquids either

Pretext of having his coat?

When he shows up, tell him you want to be with love him.

Kiss.

She took a quick glance around to make sure everything was set up according to her list. Perfect. Things seemed to be going according to plan, for once.

With a satisfied smile, she grabbed her phone. Of course, she probably should have made sure he was free before going through the trouble of cooking an entire ham. But it was too late for such regrets. She tapped her phone with her hand as she paced back and forth, practicing what she was going to say.

“Hey, Max! It’s me! Zoey. It’s Zoey. Do I even need to say that? He has caller ID. Okay, just go with hey, Max! Oh, but he knows who he is. Maybe just hey! Now I sound like a chipmunk. Heeey? No, that sounds creepy. Hi! Howdy! Ugh. Hey…”

As she paced back and forth, she lost track of what was going on around her and so didn’t notice the smoke billowing out of her oven until the fire detector went off, beeping shrilly in her ear. “No! No, no, no, no no…” she muttered desperately as she raced to the oven and pulled it open. On second thought, she should have kept it closed as a ball of fire followed another billow of smoke. “What the-”

She was catapulted out of the way when Mo came in from out of nowhere, shoving her aside to spray an entire fire extinguisher’s worth of suppressant into her oven. As he worked, she jabbed the fire detector with a broom until it fell silence. Then she returned to the stove to throw her meal a morose look. If her ham hadn’t been ruined already, it was now.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Mo demanded in aggrieved affrontery, pulling out her obliterated meal once he’d assured himself that the fire had been extinguished. Wiping off some of the chemicals coating the top, he poked around at the charred meal and exclaimed, “You left the plastic on?”

“What? No, of course not! I removed the plastic!” Zoey peered around Mo’s shoulder to look at the ham, poking it with one dubious finger. “There was a second layer of plastic on the back half of it?” There was, now both firmly baked into the outer skin of the ham and crispy from where it had gone aflame.

Mo sighed and looked around, taking in the scene. Zoey in her dress and heels, way beyond “stay-at-home casual.” The dining table, set for two. The romantic music playing softly over her radio.

“I-I-I-” Zoey stammered, trying to come up with some sort of self-defense, but Mo wasn’t hearing it.

“What did I tell you about props and gimmicks? Would you please go tell Max how you feel about him before you burn down this entire building?”

“I just thought…a romantic meal…”

Grabbing her gently but firmly by the shoulders, he steered her towards the door. “Go. Tell. Him. How. You. Feel.”

“But my meal!” she protested weakly.

He shook his head. “It’s already had a Viking funeral. There’s nothing more we can do for it now. Go take care of this while I dispose of the body. Go.”

Dejected that her plans had once again followed through, Zoey dug in her heels. “Wait! I need my jacket. That black one. And – and my purse.”

She gestured and Mo leaned over to grab both items, passing them over with a dubious look. “That’s yours?” he asked when she slipped the jacket on. It smelled like Max, and Zoey breathed in deeply, pretending it was his arms wrapped around her.

It was huge on her, but she nodded. “Yup! Okay, well…I should go, I guess.”

“Uh huh. Just try not to do anything weird between here and there. I don’t want to get any calls that you’ve been sent to the hospital. Or jail.”

“You won’t. Scout’s honor. You have nothing to worry about!”

Mo shot a pointed look over his shoulder at her demolished kitchen. “Uh huh.”

Zoey rocked back and forth on her toes as she stared at the door in front of her. Too scared to knock, she pulled her phone out of her purse and texted him instead. Hey, are you home? My mom said you left a coat at her place. I’m in the neighborhood, so I can drop it by if you’re there.

She could actually hear his phone chirp through the door. A few seconds later, she got the response. You don’t need to do that! I can swing by and pick it up later if you don’t want to go out of your way. Or you can bring it to work. Thanks for the offer!

He ended his text with a smiley emoji, and she spent much longer than necessary trying to decipher what that meant. Was he genuinely just worried about her taking a special trip? Or was this part of his efforts to avoid her?

She considered making a run for it, but she suspected Mo wouldn’t let her back into her apartment unless he was certain she’d told Max the truth and would theoretically no longer be a danger to herself or others. Before she could lose whatever shred of nerve she still retained, she shrugged out of his coat (admittedly reluctantly), lifted her hand, and rapped briskly on his door.

He opened it a few seconds later, his face a mask of surprise. “Zoey? Wow, that was…really fast.”

What she meant to say was, “Hey! Like I said, I was in the neighborhood.” What she actually said sounded like, “Hey, Ma-nipples.”

He was shirtless again. Didn’t he know what that did to her self-composure? To her ability to string a coherent thought together? Granted, it wasn’t exactly fair of her to blame him. He’d had no real reason to know she was lurking outside his door when she’d sent him that text. But still.

He looked adorably awkward as he lifted one hand to run his fingers through his wet hair, trying to get it in some semblance of order. She’d apparently caught him coming out of the shower. So he was standing in front of her both half-naked and damp? Good. Lord.

Oblivious to her sudden struggle for air, he explained, “Yeah, sorry. I just got back from the gym. I didn’t realize you were coming by.” He hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Do you want to come in?” As she stepped through the door, he looked over his shoulder like he wasn’t sure if he should go grab a shirt. Or like he wasn’t alone.

She stumbled to a halt, her heart seizing in her chest. “Oh, god. You’re not busy, are you? I mean, if you have someone here -”

He cocked his head to the side, throwing her a confused smile. “No, of course not!” Glancing down, he leaned in, his hand reaching towards her. “Oh, I should –”

His face was moving closer to hers, and Zoey’s brain backfired. This was it! The moment she’d been waiting for! Her little MaxBot and ZoeyBots had traversed the maze, avoiding homicidal staplers, menacing balloons, and boiling vats of coffee (and, after tonight, actual bursts of fire that she might as well program in when she got home), and it was finally time to do the thing she’d fantasized about all week! Success!

Completely forgetting that she was holding his coat – and that she hadn’t actually gotten around to confessing her feelings yet – she lurched forward, convinced he was about to initiate a kiss. A kiss she fully intended to reciprocate. The most perfect first kiss one could ever possibly imagine, she was sure.

Instead, in her haste and panic, she missed the mark. Instead of a romantic first kiss, she accidentally semi-headbutted him, her lips landing somewhere in vicinity of the air below his chin. He jerked back in surprise, causing her to lose her balance and stumble forward, stomping on his toe.

“Zoey! What was that?” he yelped, hand cupped over his nose, as he hopped on one foot. Is it broken? Am I bleeding?” She was too horrified at herself to respond, so he pulled his hand away to check for blood before throwing her a bewildered look. “Did you come over here to headbutt me for not being able to hang out lately? Because I really have been busy.”

“What?” she protested. “Of course not!”

He must have seen the misery on her face, because his grimace melted into a soft, reassuring smile. Clearly struggling to hold back a wince, he asked gently, “Okay, then, do you want to tell me what this is all about? Trust me. You have my undivided attention.”

She clutched her hands in front of her, trying to stop them from trembling, and tried to find the words to explain. She found she couldn’t look him in the eye and form a coherent thought. His lips also seemed a little too daunting. His chest was…nope. Still bare. She wasn’t even going to attempt it. Fixing her attention to a spot roughly around his Adam’s apple – that seemed more or less safe enough – she tried to remember part of the elegant speech she’d prepared earlier in the week to tell him how she felt. The only thing that came to mind was “You Max” and she’d already discovered first-hand how insufficient that was to get the job done.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged forward. “I’m…not very good with people. I think we both know that. The only thing I’m really good at is programming! And so I just thought…if I could get the Zoey-Bot and the Max-Bot through the maze…”

Even she could tell she wasn’t making any sense. His Adam’s apple moved as he asked, “The…Max-Bot? I-I don’t…You want me to build some-”

“No. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Staring at his neck wasn’t helping, so she squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to pull herself together. “I’m trying to say that I took your advice and I talked to my mom.”

Silence fell between them for a few seconds before he replied gently, “Oh. Well, that’s good! Isn’t it? What did she say?”

She opened her eyes, meeting his unflinchingly. “She said…after she met my dad, she could spend the rest of her life running from the way she felt about him, trying to protect her heart. Or she could take a chance that she might lose him one day, and cherish every moment they were lucky to have each other along the way. The good days and the bad, as long as they were together. She said that you can never know the future, but the happiness she found when she chose to take a chance on my dad, when she chose love, outweighed all the pain. Even the pain of losing him.” She had said that, no matter how much it would hurt to lose Zoey’s father, she would never, ever regret loving him.

Max didn’t move. Didn’t speak. As far as she could tell, barely breathed. So she took a tiny step towards him and confessed, “And Max…I promised I would be honest with you, so I will. I’m still scared. And I don’t want to ever lose you. I don’t know how I could bear it. But I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you…a long time ago. Even though I was too scared to admit it to myself. And, who knows? Maybe I never would have if it weren’t for my superpower. Maybe? What I do know is that being with you…it makes me happy. So I’m – I’m choosing love over fear. I’m choosing you. I mean, to be with you.” Her courage depleted, she finished lamely, “I, I mean…if that’s…if that’s still what you want?”

He reached out, trailing fingertips down her arm until she released the death grip she hand on her hands and took his in hers. Her skin felt cold and, she was afraid, probably clammy. But she could swear he was trembling, too, and it wasn’t just her. “What I want? Of course it is! Zoey, I’m not trying to push you into anything. We don’t have to go fast with this! I know you’re scared about what might happen. I’m scared, too. I don’t want to lose you, either! It’s why I didn’t tell you how I felt for so long. But I also know that when I think about the future – my future – I want you to be in it. And that’s worth taking a chance on. I don’t mind taking this slow, as long as we’re doing it together.”

Her breath escaped her with a whoosh, as she felt the tension drain from her shoulders. “Really?”

“Really,” he responded reassuringly, giving her hand a quick squeeze. “As long as you promise Manipples also isn’t going to be my new nickname.” That elicited a laugh, so he suggested, “I have an idea. Why don’t I…put on a shirt,” his mouth curved into that boyish grin that she loved so much as he gestured vaguely at his chest, “and then we can watch a movie together.”

“I’d like that,” she replied, rocking up onto her toes as she returned his smile.

“But first, if you don’t mind…could we try that kiss again?” At his surprised look, she smiled sheepishly and explained, “I’d like to be able to say that I managed it without nearly sending you to the hospital. I made a promise to Mo, after all.” Plus, it was pretty mortifying that he hadn’t even been aware that’s what she’d been attempting when she nearly knocked him out.

“Yeah, of course,” Max breathed, tugging gently on her hand to pull her forward. Stepping into his embrace was like coming home, she realized, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him down towards her. With one hand resting between her shoulder blades and the other at the small of her back, he pulled her tight against him. Zoey closed her eyes as she savored the feeling of his lips as they brushed softly against hers once, then twice. She parted her lips and heard him groan deep in his throat as he deepened the kiss.

She thought she could stand there in Max’s entranceway, kissing him forever, but he finally gave her one last, tender kiss and pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers. “I love you, Zoey,” he whispered.

“I love you, Max,” she breathed in return.

[thicahgase7]

Got7′s reaction to trying to cheer you up after a bad day pt1

My first ever request🥺🥺 tysm  @jamiesenshi​ 💖💖I hope you enjoy and thanks for being so patient waiting for this😣☺

A/N: I changed the imagine slightly to them reacting to their soon-to-be girlfriend having a bad time. I’m also splitting this into two part since it’s kinda long😅

Opening the door to your apartment and putting down your things, you brushed by your roommate  Eli and jumped into the bed, quickly pulling the covers over yourself as you try not to cry.

You really were just having a pretty shitty day. No, not day, a week. Your boss kept yelling at you in front of some customers when the whole situation wasn’t even your fault, your mom was nagging you about your job and despite trying your best to find better job and working for your degree, it isn’t enough for her. You got stood up by your boyfriend only to find out he was cheating on you when you went to the club with your girlfriends to feel better. You dumped his ass faster than he could talk and wished the girl he was cheating with good luck before going home and yelling at the tv that love wasn’t real with a bottle of wine in one hand and ice cream in the other. 

Overall, you were tired, tried of dealing with everything. Your eyes burned from refusing to cry, the tears welling up no matter how much you attempted to stop them. Psshh, this SUCKS. Your phone buzzed with messages, no doubt from your friends checking up on you. You know you should get back to them but not right now. Right now was your time, time to just lay there and be sad. You were glad you didn’t bother turning the lights on since it was still a bit bright out, your curtains dimming out the sun just enough for you to take a nap.

“Y/N?” Eli’s voice was soft as they knocked on your door. After a few seconds of not responding, they speak again. “I know things are pretty tough right now, but I thought we could have a movie night? I was thinking of watching that new Harley Quinn movie.... feel free to come join me if you want.” You hear their footsteps fade away as you close your eyes, hoping that you’ll feel better after taking a nap.

Mark:

You stir from your dreamless nap to the feeling of someone sitting next to you, the bed sinking from the pressure of this person’s body. You make a grimace as you open your eyes, a blurry-looking Mark glancing back at you from his phone. He flashes a small smile as he puts his phone down.

“Hey there grumpy.” You groan, slowly sitting up as you rub your eyes to see him more clearly. Surely, you had to be dreaming since Mark was on tour. There’s no way he could be here.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on tour,” you blurt out, confused as you glanced at the clock on the nightstand. You only slept for a good hour and a half. He shrugs bashfully.

“I thought I would come surprise you and Eli by getting here earlier than planned but you were sleeping, so I figured I would just sit here and wait for you to wake up.” You scoff, fiddling with the bedsheets in your hands.

“Then I guess you heard about what’s been going on with me this week.” He then moves to sit next to you, shoulders touching before he nudges you slightly.

“Yea, you wanna talk about it?” You sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder. Seeing him here made you actually feel a bit better about everything, but you really didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet anyways.

“Not really. Shit just blows.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you closer to him until you hear his heartbeat right next to your ear. It calmed you down, hearing the steady beat and having him hug you close. Mark was always there for you and you really appreciate him just being him.

“Does this help?” You thought back on the last time you guys hugged and realized it was when he was leaving for the tour. You felt tears welling up again since you missed having him around but instead of crying, you adjusted yourself to hug him back properly.

“You have no idea.” Nothing is said for a bit, the only sound in the room is the soft breathing of you guys laying there. But that soon is broken when Mark suddenly chuckles to himself, making you feel the vibrations on his chest. You lift your head to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?” He just smiles and shakes his head, his eyes still closed as he begins to speak.

“Nothing, just…not for nothing but your ex was such an ass.” You let out a laugh, resting your head back down.

“Yea, you’re not wrong. But who needs that jerk when I got amazing friends like you and everyone else, right?” He hums in response, his lips kissing the top of your head.

“Right, friends..” His heartbeat is slow, and you begin to wonder why you even let everything bother you. You had your friends like Eli, the guys, and Mark. They always support you, so you didn’t need to worry about anyone’s opinion. You smile to yourself.

“Hey, Mark, can we stay like this for a bit longer? I’m starting to feel better.” He hums again and soon after, you both end up falling asleep.

BamBam:

“Wake up, hoe! This ain’t no sad boy shit, this BAD BITCH hours!” The door flies open and slams against the wall as you snap your eyes open. Before you can even sit up, you just see a body flying in the air and lands right next to you. You groan, trying to pull the covers over your head.

“Bambam, what the hell?!” He yanks the covers away until you meet him with a glare. It doesn’t faze him however as he grins.

“I know damn well you ain’t here moping over people who ain’t worth your time or effort.” You turn away from him, snuggling into yourself since he stole your cover. You don’t know how long you slept for, but you knew it hadn’t been long enough to deal with this.

“If you know what’s bugging me, why you bothering me?” Now it was his turn to groan while throwing his arm around your waist and pulling you close. You didn’t refuse the contact since he was warm.

“Come on, Y/N, you can’t let people bring you down, especially your trash can of an ex.” That got a chuckle outta you even if you wanted to stay mad at him and be sad but you couldn’t help it. Despite being a bit of a pain in the ass, Bambam always knew what to say to make you smile. And he did have a point though: why worry about what people think about you? He leaned over to peer at your face, grinning even wider. “Oh? Was that a laugh just now? And- AHH- a smile?!” Turning back around, you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Maybe...” You felt shy all of a sudden but looked up at him. “You thought my ex was trash?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Uhh, we all did. Me and the guys, even Eli thought he was bad news. But you were so happy with him that we thought maybe he was different around you. And besides, would you have listened to us if we told you not to date him?” You sigh, knowing for a fact you wouldn’t have.

“No, probably not.” He laughs.

“You see? Now all I gotta say is you shouldn’t have to worry about what people are saying about you since we all know you’re doing your best. So: screw your boss, ignore your mom, and after you change into some clothes, we’re going to go put sugar in your trash ex’s gas tank and then come home, watch some movies with the crew and get drunk.” You furrow your brows together.

“Sugar in a gas tank?” Nodding excitedly, he props his head on his head before talking

“Yea, putting sugar in the gas tank ruins the car or so I heard. It’s a lot sneakier then egging his car and he’ll never know you did it.” You can only shake your head while smiling.

“Bam, that’s got to be illegal.” He shrugs.

“Only if you get caught.” You sit up, baffled as you stare at him.

“I’m not doing that.” He tosses a smug look your way. You feel yourself worry immediately. “What did you do?” He shrugs coyly.

“Me, Mark and Yugyeom may have already done it.” Oh god..

“How much sugar did you put?” He doesn’t meet your eyes and starts looking at the door.

“Like five pounds of sugar.. But what’s done is done. Now, come, we already got the bottles of wine and Eli’s waiting for us.” With that, he quickly gets off the bed and runs away, laughing like a madman as you jolt up and chase after him.

“FIVE POUNDS?! BAMBAM!”

Jackson:

“Hey, Y/N...” You stir from the gentle shake of someone’s hand on your shoulder. Peeking out of one eye, you see Jackson giving you the tiniest of smiles. “Hey there, sleepyhead.” Confused, you slowly sit up, rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blurriness.

“Jackson?” He sits next to you, nodding.

“Yea, its me. You okay?” You shrug, not really sure if you should tell him everything that happened this week. But this was Jackson you were talking to, the guy whose been there for you countless of times and always there when you need to vent. You rest your head on his shoulder, sighing before peering up at him.

“Not really. I’m sure Eli told you what happened.” He wraps an arm around you and starts to stroke your head softly, his fingers running through your hair. You close your eyes as you relax into the touch.

“More or less. Sorry I couldn’t be here earlier to cheer you up.” Pulling away, you shake your head and look at him. You see him frown but not at you. Most likely thinking about how you found out your ex cheated on you.

“Don’t be, you and the guys were out on tour. You guys got a bunch of fans after all.” You nudge his shoulder in an attempt to be playful but he lets out a small laugh that doesn’t really reach his eyes. You look at him with worry as he shakes his head and looks down at his hand before meeting your eyes.

“Yea but still. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to deck him when I had the chance.” You give him a pity smile, resting your hand on top of his. “I also heard about your fight with your mom.” Sighing, you think back on what happened.

“I know I should listen to her and all that but how can I when she can’t even respect what I want to do? Nothing I do or say is ever good enough for her and just..” He places his hands on your shoulders and kisses your forehead, surprising you from your rant as you stared wide-eyed.

“I know not everyone can have a good relationship like I have with my mom. No one should ever put someone down, whether they be a stranger, a friend, and especially family. You don’t have to listen to your mom, I’m just sorry you have to deal with that instead of the love and affection you deserve to have from family.” You nod, letting a tear slip as you try to smile at him but he just wipes the tear away before pulling you into a hug. How did you ever get so lucky to have someone like Jackson in your life to be there for you? You squeeze him tight, tucking your chin into his chest. You scoff while trying not to cry.

“God, you always know what to say to me. It’s soo not fair.” He laughs as he pulls away, flashing a grin.

“What can I say? I hate seeing you sad and rather see you smile.” You hum, rubbing your eyes quickly to get rid of any more tears. He hands you a tissue and lets you clean your face before grabbing the trashcan, letting you toss it in. You feel your stomach growl and you realize that you hadn’t had dinner.

“Thanks. I feel bit better talking to you about it but now I’m kinda hungry.” Standing up, he offers you a hand and helps you outta bed.

“Well, Eli went to go grab take-out with the guys before starting the movie. We could snack on some chips before they get back?” You nod, not letting go of his hand as you leave the room.

“Deal.”

Annndddd I’m leaving it here. I’ll post the 2nd part soon but I hope you guys liked the reactions so far

[softyoongiionly]

In My Calvins 💼

Mondays suck. Mondays with your boyfriend suck less.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Domestic!, Model! Taehyung, kind of? Sub! Taehyung, smut

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Taehyung frequently ruins my life so, I’m dragging you all into my misery. Love you!

Warnings: smut, language aka TAEHYUNG IS A DIRTY DIRTY BOY

Mondays.

The worst day of the week.

Honestly, like who even allowed Monday’s to happen? Who signed off on that shit? You didn’t want to fight…you just wanted to talk. Mondays had gotten increasingly worse over the last few months because, you had started your new job and, on Mondays…they wanted you to come in early.

Early!

On a fucking Monday.

The audacity.

Early as in, 5am.

5…in the fucking…morning…on a Monday.

This was the opposite of ideal.

The thing is, you loved your job. You really did. The 4 years of college, 5 months of job hunting and, 3 month interview process was totally worth it. You were in a place in life where you finally felt as though you were doing what you wanted to do.

Aside from your job, you also procured an amazing condo in the nicer part of town aka the part of town you only ventured into in your dreams. Big open windows lined the walls, giving you a breathtaking view of the skyline, modern appliances were nestled in your kitchen which was complete with marble countertops and a fancy trash compacter. The rest of the apartment had been co-decorated by you and your boyfriend Taehyung.

You had met Taehyung at an art gallery nearly three years ago and, the two of you bonded over your mutual love for cheap diner food and expensive artwork.  Falling in love had occurred much faster than you expected. Taehyung’s sense of humor and, desire to speak endlessly about the complexity of the world around him had won you over almost instantly and, the chemistry between the two of you was, according to your close friends, palpable in every sense of the word. Taehyung was a walking contradiction, one second, you were convinced he had discovered the secret to immortality and, was actually born in 1728 and the next second, you were begging him to wait until after dinner before indulging in the ice cream you had come with. The point is, he was everything all wrapped into one:  sensitive and strong, childlike and wise beyond his years, goofy and refined, all at the same time.

And, my god, was he gorgeous.

Like, so fucking gorgeous that it actually offended you sometimes.

So, it was no surprise to you when he was scouted one day while the two of you were out grocery shopping. The agent worked for quite a prestigious agency and, after some time, she had convinced Taehyung to submit a few headshots to her recruiter; headshots that the two of you took on your old DSLR in front of your windows during the golden hour. The mini photo shoot had ended with the two of you fucking in front of said windows for the better part of the night. At least, you lived on the 81st floor right?

Needless to say, the headshots were a success and, after a few magazine campaigns, Taehyung’s career had taken off. For the better part of last year, he was travelling constantly, so much so, that the two of you hardly say each other. You were, of course, very supportive of his career and, wanted nothing but the best for him. However, you missed each other like crazy. You spent nearly a year living together and, suddenly he was just gone all the time. Sometimes, you would go with him but, most of the time, your previous job/job hunting kept you tied down to the city. Earlier this year, Taehyung had decided enough was enough, modelling was something he loved, yes but, he couldn’t stand being away from you constantly. His agency understood and, now, only requires him to travel during a few of the major fashion weeks throughout the year. Taehyung still models in designer brand campaigns and, often times, brands will send their photographers into the city, specifically to work with your boyfriend.

You couldn’t blame them. He was a literal work of art.

Since his career shift, life had become pretty domestic between the two of you. Date nights, weekend trips, home cooked meals, stupid fights over whose turn it was to clean the bathroom; life really couldn’t have been any better.

However, today was still Monday. Mondays still suck and, this one sucked even more because, you had trouble sleeping the night before. Nine and half hours of work on two and a half hours of sleep was bad day that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy and, yet here you were, jittery and exhausted on the cab ride home. You had doubled up on the espresso this morning but, all it really did was make you feel anxious and sleepy at the same time.

Misery.

You trudged through the front door of your condo, messenger bag across your body, empty coffee mug in hand, only to be greeted by silence. There was a bit of disappointment in your stomach as you had a feeling that your boyfriend might not have finished up his photoshoot. After the day you just had, you were really looking forward to his company. With a long drawn out sigh you placed your things on the countertop and, headed into your bedroom. It was there that you were greeted by the sight of your sleeping boyfriend.  Sandy blonde hair splayed out on the pillowcase as the duvet hung off of his hips, his bare back, broad and exposed to the rest of the room. The sight was heavenly and, you could literally feel your lids grow heavier at the thought of snuggling against his warm, tanned skin.

After shedding your work clothes, you pulled on a tank top and a pair of thin sleep shorts. The room was cooled by the powerful breeze of the standing fan but, you knew very well, that your radiator of a boyfriend, would have no problem keeping you warm. You pulled back the covers before slipping underneath them, shifting carefully in the direction of a sleeping Taehyung.  As your skin makes contact with his, you sigh out in relief, as if his presence alone was soothing you.

“Rough day?”

Your boyfriends ragged voice rumbling beside you, startles you and, he chuckles as you let out a squeak, face whipping towards him. Your greeted with Taehyung’s boxy smile, obscured slightly by the material of the pillow and, his cunning gaze, his disheveled blonde hair messily framing his face.

“I thought you were sleeping.” You whisper and, you weren’t sure why, something about Taehyung’s voice causing you to keep quiet.

“I was, until you came in.” He smirks, eyes full of fondness as he shuffles closer to you, bringing the blanket up from his hips and, over your shoulders.

You welcome his closeness, a frown on your face, your lips pouted slightly.

“I’m sorry I woke you, I was trying to be quiet.” You regret, wrapping your arm around his bare waist, securing yourself against him.

The motion causes Taehyung to smile, his nose nudging against yours before his soft lips lean to press against yours. The kiss is slightly more heated than you expect but, you reciprocate none the less, your hand squeezing lightly against his waist. He chuckles into your lips, wiggling lightly at your touch before deepening the kiss, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip, requesting entry.

“Your makeup looks pretty today…” He mumbles against your mouth, his hand slipping under the material of your tank top, fingers lightly tickling the skin there. “Is it ok if I fuck it up?”

His question throws you off and, you pull away from the kiss, brows rising as you giggle.

“What do you mean?”

He smirks, his eyes darkening as he sits up, positioning himself between your legs. It was then, that you notice the white Calvin Klein’s hugging his caramel colored hips. The definition in his stomach made your mouth water but, coupled with his choice in attire and his shaggy blonde hair that reached the nape of this neck, you felt like you could literally die.

It was moments like these that you wondered what in the world you did to get so lucky.

Taehyung shrugs, his big hands coming up to rest on your knees, “Your eyes tend to water when I eat your pussy…”

His words make your clit throb in your shorts and, you feel your throat growing dry as you try to calm yourself. You feel goosebumps collecting on the sides of your thighs and, on the back of your arms, Taehyung’s baritone voice sending you into a frenzy.

But you attempt to keep calm none the less…

“Who said anything about you eating my pussy?” You retort, brows rose in defiance. After all, he usually asks permission.

Taehyung chuckles and, his cocky because, he knows for a fact you would never pass up his mouth, especially because, he doesn’t give it to you nearly as often as he would like to.

“You had a rough day yeah? Don’t you think it would get a lot better with my tongue on your clit?”

Another throb occurs in your shorts then and, you can feel your entrance contracting as you grow more and more aroused.

“I had a rough day too babe and, I know for fact, the only thing that will improve my mood is if your cunt was in my face.”

Fuck, he was filthy.

“I-“ You weren’t one to be speechless but, your overwhelming arousal and, lingering exhaustion caused your brain to go foggy. All you could feel was desire.

Taehyung smirks again, his body lowering so his lips were kissing at your knees, his hands slowly spreading your legs, wet lips trailing over your heated skin all the while. His eyes lock onto yours, hunger in them as he starts kissing and sucking up your right leg.

“What’s gotten into you today…” You breathe out, eyes threatening to roll back as he sucks against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh.

The vibration of his voice causes your shorts to dampen and, you feel your heart quickening in anticipation.

“You’ve been working so hard Jagi…” He murmurs, nose trailing up the cuff of your shorts, a drunken smirk on his face. “I wanna make you feel better.”

He’s kissing at the junction of your thighs now, alternating between kissing your skin softly and pulling it between his teeth, the latter making it harder to keep quiet.

“Can I jagi?” The question is asked against your pussy now, your pajama shorts being the only thing separating you and his mouth. He flits his eyes to yours, the cocky smirk still prominent on his face. “Can I eat your sweet little cunt?”

You didn’t have it in you to bite back anymore. Normally, you would have made it harder for him, you would have resisted more but, today was different. Today you were spent and, you need him more than you could possibly articulate.

“Yeah…” The voice that passes your lips is small and, nearing a whimper, bracing yourself for what’s to come.

Taehyung’s brown eye flash victorious for a moment before he leans back and, hooks his fingers into the band of your shorts, ignoring the throbbing of his dick as he hears the desperation in your voice.

He lets out the breath he was holding as he takes in the sight of what’s between your legs. You’re swollen and wet and, he could hardly control himself as he begins dragging his tongue slowly up the length of your pussy, the tip of his tongue barely probing between your lips. The feeling sends a shiver up your spine and, you arch slightly towards his mouth.

“Your clit is throbbing…I can feel it…can I lick on it Jagi? Please?” Taehyungs accent is growing thicker as the taste of you hits his tongue. It’s taking everything in him not to bury his face between your legs.

“That’s what I like isn’t it?” You retort, smirking softly, trying to get a grip on yourself.

Taehyung’s brows go up in surprise as he looks up towards you, a teasing smirk on his face.

“I know what you fucking like you little shit…” He chuckles, biting your thigh in retaliation, causing a giggle to erupt from your throat. “I’m trying to be polite…isn’t that what good boys do mistress?”

The name he uses sends another pulse into your clit. The two of you had decided to spice things up recently, not out of necessity or anything but, just out of curiosity. You had dabbled in BDSM and, you were pleasantly surprised at how quickly Taehyung slipped into a submissive role. The most recent encounter occurred after he had been acting like an ass for most of the day and, you decided the best remedy was tying him up and fucking him until he couldn’t see straight anymore. It was very effective.

“You’re right…keeping showing me what a good boy you are then…” You suggest and, Taehyung feels another throb in his boxers at the return of his favorite nickname.

“Yes mam”

He dives in then, tongue pushing its way past the sticky lips of your pussy, quickly finding your swollen clit. He’s licking against it, nose buried against you, hands bracing against your thighs holding them open. The tension from your day coupled with Taehyung’s teasing were not going to allow you to last long, the sinking feeling already building up in your stomach.

Taehyung’s tongue licked on either side of your clit, lips pursing around it, sucking it into his mouth momentarily before, continuing to lick on it. The feeling made your toes tingle, it made you feel completely helpless. You couldn’t move, you just laid there, legs spread, pussy drenched, taking everything he was giving you.

“I’m a good boy aren’t I mistress? Eating your cunt after a long day…” Taehyung’s voice holds the same amount of arrogance but, its renewed slightly with desperation, his darkening eyes staring into yours.

You just nod eagerly, breath shortening with each motion of his lips against your pussy. You’re trying to catch your breath, fingers clutching against the duvet that lay underneath you. Taehyung moves down to lick at your entrance, tongue teasing at the wet skin, lush lips sucking against it lightly.

“You have no right jagi...” He groans against your cunt, hands on either side of your thighs, holding them open. “...no right to have a pussy this good.”

Teeth are gnawing at your lip, trying to refrain from screaming out, your heart throbbing in your chest. Your pussy tightening and contracting against your boyfriends talented mouth.

You feel his fingers then, long and nimble, circling your entrance, a devilish smile being shot your way from between your legs.

“Can I put my fingers in here mistress?” His voice is arrogant but, his eyes hold the slightest amount of adoration, secretly desperate to please you.

All you can do is nod as the goosebumps continue to collect all over your skin, the breeze from the standing fan not helping. Taehyung smirks, wasting no time as he tucks two of his fingers inside of you, pressing firmly against the mound of tissue that’s bound to drive you crazy.

Your breath is caught in your throat and, you feel the tension in your stomach increasing, your cunt tingling as Taehyung begins licking at your clit again. His fingers are steady as they rock inside of you, rubbing against your g-spot. You are normally one for stamina but, today is not the day. Taehyung groans against you as you tangle your fingers in his blonde mane, tugging harder as he sucks at your clit.

Its all too much, its overwhelming you, there's a deep, sickening, pleasure curling up inside of you and it’s about ready to snap.

“I’m gonna cum...” Your voice is barely above a whisper as euphoria washes over you, your back arching, your nipples hardening. All of the tension melting away as your boyfriend helps you through your orgasm. You feel more wetness that normal between your legs but, you can't find in you to care. It’s your turn to do the laundry anyhow.

Taehyung doesn't miss a beat, he slowly slides his fingers out, hunger in his eyes as he sucks them dry, dark eyes holding yours all the while. He smirks as places kisses all over your pussy, nibbling on your inner thighs, causing you to giggle.

“You came a lot...” He mumbles drunkenly, still smirking as he starts kissing his way up your body.

“You play dirty...” You retort, eyes fluttering as you feel his hardened dick rub against your sensitive pussy.

He chuckles, his still swimming with lust as he leans into your lips, “Is there any other way to play jagi?”

damn him, always wanting dessert before dinner.

[brilliantpride]

Yako stares at the clinic ceiling, still too sore to lift her head too much or, as she’d prefer to be doing, cause a nuisance for the clinic staff. After sleeping for hours (days, maybe? it feels like time is passing too slowly), she’s awake, for better or worse. Her body feels like the time she got knocked across a field with a broadsword. Breathing or shifting too much in her bed makes her muscles strain uncomfortably, and a sharp pins-and-needles feeling comes back. 

...Phew, it feels like she’s been through it. Most of it’s a muddled mess in her mind. She remembers... the labyrinth, walking endlessly, being alone. She thinks she had a visitor, no, a few, a bunch? since she got back home, but she was half-asleep, so it’s a little hard to recall. Did Cu and Connla pop their heads in, maybe? Did Mash? Ritsu?

...It’s quiet in here. It must be late. Or early...

“Ody?” she asks, quietly, but no voice answers her. ... “Ody,” she says, more insistently. Nothing. Yako sits up, searches for a terminal to tap on, despite the numbness in her arms. Her comms are gone... she must’ve left them in the labyrinth. Her jacket... where is it? She’s not wearing it. 

...

Yako rolls off the edge of the bed. She stumbles, bare feet on tile floor, feeling like she’s walking on knives. Even if someone drags her back, as long as she can be sure that everything’s fine...

-

Alone. It’s cold. It hurts. She’s alone. It’s so cold. It hurts so, so bad. Burned to a crisp and then exposed to the freezing cold of the outside. There’s no one here. The hallway goes on forever. She was supposed to have reached the elevator by now. 

There’s windows. ...It’s supposed to be snowy. Chaldea was snowy. Yako stares out the giant windows, the ones that run from floor to ceiling the size of a cathedral, so big it makes her feel like Fou; the world outside is... 

...space.

Twinkling, vast, the stars paint the universe, glittering and surrounding. Her breath catches and she presses her face to the glass; but she falls through, no glass to catch her, and finds herself tumbling out into the depths beyond. ...With no air to yell, she uselessly tries to swim backwards, but there’s nothing to push herself against. She floats, drifting away, even colder and more alone than before. The chill stings her scars, feels like the white-hot inferno she’s been bathed in before. 

...

...How long is she like this? Staring out at the billions of stars she can’t reach, so beautiful but too far away to grasp. 

I am Ananga. I am Atanu. I am Manmath and Kusumashar... 

Yako turns her head, trying to find the source of the voice. It feels like it’s coming from everywhere at once... 

Born from the mind. Lacking a body. No, my body was burned away. All because I did what that nagging goddess asked me to do, and interrupt her husband’s meditation just so she could get it on with him. Talk about throwing a tantrum. Why was I punished for doing something I was supposed to do? 

...Hey, just why are you here? Do you want to steal a peek at me that badly? I’m not in the mood, so get the hell out.

She’s back on solid ground again. This is... her high school?

White-painted brick walls covered with posters. A chalkboard that just had a smart-board installed in the last year. Metal desks and tile floor, and herself, a weighty backpack over her shoulders. She shrugs it off and drops it on the floor, and sinks into a desk chair, even though there’s no one here. She stares out a window, at a clear-blue sky with a ring in it...

...

She hasn’t thought about this place in a while. It wasn’t a very great place for her. Of course she threw all she had into it, but it was like things went in one ear and out the other, no matter how many times she tried reading textbooks or taking useless notes---the things she focused on were never the things on the tests, or she knew an answer but forgot it as soon as she stared at a quiz... All she really had to look forward to was chatting with her friends at lunchtime, though it felt like they were better friends with each other than with her. After school she would sit with a book, wishing the world, and her monotonous everyday with it, would just disappear, and she’d exist like that right up until the time she was supposed to be applying for colleges, suddenly remembering she was expected to fit herself into a world that wasn’t made for her, find something to ‘do’ and stick her identity to for the rest of her life, make something of herself so she didn’t disappoint her parents (though she’s sure that ship has sailed already)---but just what are you supposed to do when you’re not good at anything? 

It was, in a word---

---so lonely. 

Someone sits next to her. She doesn’t try to talk to them. Who is that, anyway? Where’s the teacher? The rest of the class? It’s too quiet... Did she come here on a weekend by accident? (Then how did she get inside?) 

...Oh, right. She’s not in school anymore. She graduated, things happened, and then she thought she’d gotten her first job, when...

...

“It’s not much to look at,” Yako pipes up, resting her chin in her hand. “I have more interesting memories.” She doesn’t look away from the window. It doesn’t matter who it is. “Unless you’re trying to find something that makes me insecure? ...Yeah, then I guess you found it.”

She sinks down in her seat, folds her arms on top of the desk, leans her head down. “Being trapped. Being stuck. Being forced to play a role that I just can’t. ...I can’t even think of what I thought I was gonna do. I think I thought I’d take a gap year that would turn into being a high-school grad with no future hopping between part-time jobs because it felt better than trying to... do something with myself. And then... here I am. Saving the world. Giving up a normal life altogether just because I haven’t figured my shit out by eighteen. Makes me kinda feel like an ungrateful asshole... My parents just wanted to make a good life for me, and that’s how I repaid them.”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Maybe it’s the atmosphere that makes me want to talk. I don’t really care.”

There’s silence. No... maybe she just can’t hear? Outside the window, it’s turned to night, the stars glittering beautifully. The lamps in the schoolyard parking lot look kind of like little suns.

“Not like any of this is gonna help you. I don’t have any doubts about what I’m doing. I know it’s the right thing, and I’ll keep going, no matter what. ...But I have regrets, yeah. I wish I’d tried harder. I wish I hadn’t given up like that, or become such... a shell. If you showed me a picture of who I looked like when I graduated, I’d ask you why her eyes look so dead.”

...It was only natural for me to become like this.

“I got here. I learned magic existed. I learned I could do magic. I learned I was chosen because I could do magic. I thought I found an adventure made just for me. And then--- I... ran away. I knew it would disqualify me. I’d be sent home. I was afraid I’d screw it up. I hid in a bathroom, and I think... that’s the only reason I’m still alive...” (Is she crying...?) “I remember prying open the door and the metal burning my hands, but I just kept going, because I was desperate, I didn’t want to die here. I remembered I was supposed to be able to do magic, so I used a reinforcement spell, even if I didn’t know what that was, and I pulled open the door and got myself out. I should’ve run away. Instead, I ran towards the core... the Rayshift room. I tried to get people out. Everyone in there was dead already. I wanted to save someone... just one person...

“...but the smoke was bad, and there wasn’t enough air... and I realized I would die in there if I stayed, but I wanted to help someone... and then a hole opened up and I heard screaming and there was the Director and she--- ...and then I...”

The feeling of dizziness and suffocating as smoke clogs your mouth. Flames licking at your skin. If you don’t want to die, form a contract with me. 

"All this place does is remind me of how useless I used to be. ...And still am, in a lot of ways. No matter how many times I tell myself I’m stronger now, I can take care of myself, I still find ways to cause problems for everyone. I keep having to get saved. I told myself I’d practice, I’d learn, I’d put more effort into this than I have anything else in my entire life, but I’m still lagging behind.” 

And maybe she always will be. Maybe she’ll never be enough.  Those thoughts will always stick with her, even after all the progress she’s made.

"...But the funny thing is... Yeah, I’m frustrated, but it just makes me want to try harder. Like if I just stretch out a little more, maybe I can grab those stars outside. It’s weird, right? I feel kinda like I should want to give up... but I just can’t. I want to keep going. I want to get stronger. It’s not even in an ‘I’m gonna prove myself wrong’ way, it’s just... natural. It feels good. If nothing’s a challenge anymore, then what’s the point of living? I’ll just go back to being bored all the time.”

She sits up again and turns her head, meeting a face she doesn’t quite recognize. She smiles, then she laughs, feeling a bit vulnerable.

“So even if you want to tell me it’s useless and I should give up, all I can say is... sorry, I’m too dumb to know when to count myself out. I’ll just keep going, getting stronger, getting knocked down, and getting back up again. See, the thing is, the more times you peel yourself off the pavement, the faster you get at it---and the less it hurts.”

-

Yako stretches and yawns, the pain in her body lessened somewhat. It’s probably the medicine, sure. She doesn’t feel as feverish, but she still feels like her muscles are made out of marbles... Man, it’ll suck if she needs to build up her strength again before she can head out in the next Lostbelt. 

“Ody?” she calls, absentminded. From a terminal by her bedside, a sound chimes.

[ Good to see you again, Yako. ]

“Ody! I was worried about you. What happened?”

[ The computer systems had been compromised, so I isolated my program from the kernel. ]

“Well, I’m sure glad to hear from you again! Just you wait, once I’m out of the clinic I’m coming for the sim! For some reason, I’m feeling really motivated!”

[ I’ll be sure to take your physicians’ recommendations into account. ]

Aww, seems like she’ll have to take it easy for a while. Ah, well. She’ll just have to find her momentum again! “Hehe. Sounds great. Let’s do our best together, okay?”

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Hi all! Here is the next Installment of the little au pair Harry ditty inspired by @papiermachecat, thanks to @chasm2018 for the brainstorming sessions, @emulateharry for the read through, and @dirtystyles and @bleedinglove4h for being my people!

To Be So Lonely

Home Not Alone

"Shhhhh," Victoria told the door as it clicked behind her; she hoped she suppressed her pointed exhalation enough. These were difficult nights, the ones where she thought she'd make it just in time for the twins bedtime, but missed it by just enough to be a distraction. It had been happening more than she'd liked the last month, being late for the routine.

The routine that Harry created with them. Not her.

Was it normal to be jealous of your nanny? Manny?

That was weird, her face screwed up at that. That word didn't need to be gendered.

"Your face might stick like that." The softly accented voice was her third favorite thing to hear when she came into her apartment. After Mateo and Maribel giggling together, the ding of whatever food Harry had ready for her, and way above her kids calling him 'Awwy'. Partially because it was annoying that they said it wrong. Mostly, because it came not long after mama and was said more often. Not that she was keeping count.

Her eyes had closed while she grimaced over her loud entrance. She blinked open and noticed the slight bags under Harry's eyes. She should send him to bed. Mateo had been on a very early kick, which meant she got to see him first thing, but also, that he was very cranky by 7 pm but had to be kept up for an extra half hour to stay on schedule. That half hour felt really, really long. And she only had to do it last Sunday, when the new pattern emerged. Then the work week had come and Harry had taken over. It was Thursday now. That was lots of tiring nights.

Plus the twins had tarted crawling. They moved faster than a two legged creature on four legs should be able to. They also tended to go in separate directions straight into harm's way. Victoria had decided to call a baby proofer this weekend, though Harry claimed to be certified. He didn't have the time.

Who certified baby proofers?

Her hand mopped the hair that had fallen over her forehead. Her weighted lids seemed heavy to open. She was tired too, her wandering mind proof. Victoria finally convinced her eyes to open, it took all her strength. Speaking of baby proofing, the coffee table had been moved again, so they didn't get stuck under it she'd been informed. Maribel had done it right before afternoon nap not too long ago, and she couldn't push up all the way under the mid century design, it had pushed her to her belly, and Victoria figured she had flashbacks to all the tummy time Harry instituted. The fit had been epic, he'd sent her videos. She wondered if Harry rued his tummy time emphasis in that moment. It was responsible for her early crawlers and their baby frustrations, which Harry bore the brunt of. She should buy him ear plugs.

She should get rid of the coffee table. If they started pulling up on that, and god forbid walking into it, she imagined hospital trips, even if it was pushed against the wall. She had a mental flash of someone losing an eye. Coffee tables were useless anyway. When she had a mug, it was in her hands. She'd never wanted it anyway. Her mom had insisted she had one; Victoria had wanted an ottoman.

"They busy today?" She pushed off the wall and walked to the kitchen. Her plate was in the microwave, since it wasn't next to his on the breakfast bar where it was when she made it home in a timely fashion. He waited if he could help it, so they had an excuse to not eat standing up in the kitchen. It was later than she thought, kids should definitely be sleeping well by now. Then why was he whispering?

He answered her raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," he huffed and sat across from her at the breakfast bar. "Bell was really fussy at morning nap, kinda kept Mateo awake, but then he returned the favor later. He was out by 7, but Maribel was unsettled I'd really just got her down when I heard the door click."

"I'm so tempted to wake them both up at the same time tonight." Victoria cut into the chicken. "You stuffed it? How'd you find the time?"

"I got it premade." She nodded. He continued. "I don't see why you dont. Seems like a solid choice with two babies. To change all the nappies and such at the same time?"

"I guess I can't get my mom's 'no molestate, tienen suenos' out of my head." She looked up and immediately started translating.

"I get the gist," he had a nice laugh. Harry was pleasant all together. "But, due respect," clearly tip-toeing over what he thought were dropped eggs. "your mom never had twins." She laughed and it brought out the dimples. She always had a soft spot for those. They inspired trust in her mind. It had gotten her in trouble with clients, because she'd assumed honesty. She assumed nothing these days, but she had trusted Harry and his dependable face straightaway.

He stretched and his sweatshirt lifted to show one of the tatttoos she'd not discovered he had until he rolled up his sleeves to do dishes one day. One day she'd have energy to ask about them. She'd even missed the hand tattoo at the first meeting. She must have been in dire straits. Right now she was too tired to even think about the leaves?

She could sleep standing up at the moment, entirely too tired. Oh, his eyebrows were a question mark.

"She did not, and I should have ignored her benediction months ago. They wake up much less now, and for shorter periods of time." Her forehead felt tight. She should wash up.

"Do you want a glass of wine?" His question interrupted the mental argument she was having with herself about washing her face and doing skincare before laying down on her bed. She'd recently got a new mattress, and it was, frankly, the best thing in the world. But, she passed out the minute she laid down. She had to go do the motions first. Definitely.

Wait, he'd asked her a question. Wine, at this time of night, by herself?

Her question must have been on her face.

"You just look like court was rough. You've been later the last few weeks. It'll relax your temples, drop your shoulders," her deltoids came down at his mention. "And, it may ease you to sleep?"

"New mattress does the work." Victoria exhaled.

"Yeah, I noticed today." He said nonchalantly.

Her brow knit. "You were in my bed?" He never gave her sketch vibes. Weird, that's why you couldn't trust dimples.

His already big eyes were huge, "yeahs sorry! weird,I know. I was super desperate with Mateo, that tooth is really bugging him. and they were keeping each other up, so I separated them. I had to grab wipes from in there, and it...damn. I really have no good explanation." He shrugged. "It looked really inviting."

She laughed. It did, that was purposeful. So she would stay there when her insomnia kicked in or when the babies woke up. Made it was easy to wait the 10 minutes to see if they settled themselves. Slowly stretching that time out would be easier and easier in the sanctuary she'd made the bed a centerpiece of.

He relaxed, "Whew, thought I may lose my job."

"Unemployment sucks, no worries, you're safe."

"I mean, yeah, but I'd miss the twins, and..." He shook his head. He'd need to find a place and he'd be out a job, those were good reasons, but less sweet and more obvious than Harry tended to be. "Anyway, glass of wine?"

What exactly was he offering? With him in the kitchen, or a sad drink in her bed alone? Victoria wasn't sure which. She thought he may have offered her wine last week too. This case must be killing her if her nanny was worried about her.

Should only be a bit longer. She hoped.

"No, but thanks, really Harry. But I think we may both do better with sleep." She smiled

"Another time then." his voice was thin over the distance. She heard it as she headed to her bedchamber.

She clicked on her monitor, though she'd given Harry the farther room, so she could hear the babies through the wall. It made it easier to tell if they were really awake of just stirring. Harry didn't need the monitor or proximity during the day. She let him sleep at night. He didn't make breast milk, and needed the sleep to chase them all day.

She drifted to sleep with the taste of wine in her mouth and a pleasant new smell in her nostrils

🌲🌲🌲🌲

"Vee!" He tried to keep his voice level, and he'd already resorted to a new level of desperate with the voicemail. Who listened to voicemail these days? No one. Except Vee. "Give me a call soon as you get this!"

Actually, she talked on the phone more than any person he knew. Usually, it was for work, or to her mom. But she seemed to talk to old friends from college and Texas, which she referred to like it was a time in her life instead of a place, on the regular.

Her mom, she talked to her mom several times a day he had noticed, usually in Spanish so rapid fire he couldn't even catch the words he knew. Though he really only knew pidgeon French.

He liked hearing her Spanish better, he thought maybe he should learn it, so he could talk to the twins in it.

Without discussing it, they had split up language duties. Victoria only spoke to them in Spanish, he took English. But he was with them when they were awake more.

He knew she secretly hated that, the only times she'd ever really mentioned it, her long hours away, it had to do with Spanish, and how she wished she had more than nights and weekends to teach them.

She wished she had more than nights and weekends with them. He could tell her career had been her baby before the babies. Now she was stuck in the middle, walking a fine line between her own ambition and her desire.

He should help with the Spanish, may kill some mom guilt. If he learned to help her. Or would it induce more? Women were complicated.

But, mental workout over, she talked on the phone, so he was hoping she'd see he called, which he never did, and know to call back.

He was thinking he needed to take Maribel to the emergency room. She'd been a little warm when she woke up, late, and then she just got hotter.

Then she was puking. Mateo seemed to sense he needed to be an angel that day and did just that. He was spinning away in his play saucer while Harry frantically walked his sister while she cried. She had thrown her water on the floor every time he tried to get her to sip on it, and the look she'd given the popsicle, he was surprised it stayed frozen. Wow! Fireball.

He loved it! Except when he had to parent it. Help parent it.

He wondered if Vee looked like that in court?

The popsicle cooled him down, he wished Maribel would try it.

Should he call again? Just bundle the kids into the car? He had all of the things, the insurance and the affidavit, and car seats put in correctly. Except, he felt like if Vee came home to an empty house she would freak.

"Harry?" She sounded distracted, maybe just that bit worried. That shade of gray her voice got "Everything ok?"

"Um, well, yes and no. Maribel has a temp of 103,—"

"Oh my god! Is she ok?"

"She's weepy and tired and she's thrown up a few times-"

"I'm coming home."

"Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea." He heard 'oh my god' and shuffling paper in her background. "But I think we should meet is at the urgent care on Washington? Her fever isn't responding to meds." He tried to keep the worry out of his voice. He wouldn't be concerned, kids got fevers all the time, but for that. The baby had taken the medicine, begrudgingly, over an hour ago, and she was still getting hotter. But, that was a detail he could share with Vee later, after, when everybody was ok. She'd freak out even more that she was about to. And then be consumed with extra guilt, and he didn't want her to feel like that.

He could hear the ding of an elevator.

"I might lose you, I'll call you back."

"I've got to get out of the house—"

"Oh, ok, just text me if you-"

"I'll call you from the car?"

He liked that she sighed in relief. "Please."

"Of course." He went to hang up, but first said "She's gonna be fine, kids get sick all the time."

"How do you know?" Oh, the lawyer voice, he may have overstepped. "You don't have kids."

"Ouch," slipped out and he heard her suck in a breath. "I don't, but I love yours, and this isn't my first nanny gig." He chose not to remind her that he had more experience with kids, on paper, than she did. She hung up then after a soft "yeah."

He frowned, he hadn't meant to incite the lioness. He worried about it for almost an hour while he tried to keep both kids from touching anything in the emergency room.

Her cheeks were flushed when she rushed in the door that opened like theater curtains. He had only seen that color the first week she had insisted on taking running back up. It was like a month in to him working for her. She walked out the door confidently.

"Take it easy, yeah? Your body's been through something," he had suggested gently.

"Pfft, I ran until they induced me." She may have rolled her eyes.

Then she came in like a hurricane popping back over the ocean to get more moisture to dump over a neighboring city. She drank water like it too.

He did not say 'I told you so', he did not need to.

"If you mention going easy, so help me..." She said between her second and third glasses.

He zipped his lips and picked up Mateo. He must need a diaper change by now. Then he had told the little guy how lovely and silly his mum was.

This was a less amusing flush to her cheeks.

Shit! She might have run here.

"Fucking Uber driver." She cursed and he laughed and jokingly covered Maribel's ears. Well he hovered his hands over her ears, she'd fallen asleep. It wasn't restful, but he was not going to disrupt the dribble she had started leaving on his shoulder. Mateo sat on a blanket at his feet. Harry had bracketed it with his legs to keep him within its lines. Luckily, Teo was very interested in the shape sorter that had delighted countless generations, because that floor was infectious. Harry was doing his best to keep the boy off of it.

"What happened with the driver?" He was still chuckling. Her ire was his favorite. Well, after her delight at the babies.

"I told him how I wanted to go, but he said 'Waze and driving all the time say this way.'" And I said, "Fuck waze, I used to walk this in college and this road backs up horribly in the next twenty minutes."

"Did he listen?" He knew the answer, he just wanted her to tell him.

"No! The Puto!" She sat next to him and tucked Mateo's chin and silhouetted Maribel's curls. She exhaled a little bit then. But fussed a little bit more, now for the sake of story telling rather than real frustrations. "And he messed up my rating!"

"Did you cuss at him a lot?" He already knew that answer too.

"Of course! Because I was right and he needed to say it." He knew he was grinning. The little smile that started backwards, with her eyes before it spread to her mouth, when she caught his amusement told him so.

"De la Rosa?" The triage nurse called. And both of their heads swiveled like a meerkat on the plain.

"But, I suppose it was better to wait in traffic than here. I saved myself some drool and energy, sticking you with the babies." She slapped a smile on her face.

"Wasn't" he caught her eye to say.

"I know." And she picked up Mateo and scooped the four corners of the blanket while blazing the trail to the curtained room they were in until 3am.

🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌🛌

"This is weird, yeah?" He asked.

"Listen Goldilocks, you've already been sleeping in my bed, don't act like you're not excited." She must be punch drunk to be teasing him about their kitchen conversation. 4:00 was an ungodly hour by any rights, especially at a pharmacy where the workers are half asleep. Seeing the wrong side of 5 made you desperate, which explained their current arrangement.

Their bodies had formed brackets around Maribel like she was the primary number in their equation. She was. And Mateo. He'd never have been here but for her needing a bit of help with the twins. Maribel had napped on and off during their time at the emergency room. She'd been sleeping best on his or Vee's chest. He'd had to dislodge her from her mum to place her in her car seat. It did not go over well. Maribel had favored them with her best high notes the whole drive home. So Mateo was awake as well. He was easy enough to get down, they just had to get home.

Their steps were slow. He had Teo and she had Mari, it was easy enough to keep the division. They wordlessly agreed to keep them separate. He followed her down the hallway after carelessly leaving everything but the babies and the medicine in the living room.

"Vee." He whispered and motioned with his head to his awkwardly extended hand. She nodded, took the step closer to retrieve the paper packet before leaving him to it at the nursery door.

Teo was tired and Harry only had to dance him a bit before he lay him down.

Harry pressed his hand to the sweet tummy for just a few minutes for good measure, but he was out like a popped bulb.

Harry could hear the fussing as soon as he left the nursery door frame, the closing a soft snick behind him. Maribel was still awake and so overtired her cry was more a pathetic whimper. Or maybe that was Vee's soothing sounds.

"I remember when I used to stay up for 24 hours on purpose!" She whispered when he came near enough to hear. "Do you ever mourn all of the sleep you gave up before?"

"Think I'm still too close to the staying up on purpose phase."

"Ah, I forget how young you are." She pursed her lips and it threw the lines of her face into stark relief in the morning light sneaking through her blinds.

"Hey, I turn 30 soon."

"Oh yes, so grown up." She smiled sleepily and the expression highlighted the 10 years she had on him.

"Let me take her. You worked all day yesterday." He could feel the bleeding heart in his eyes.

"So did you." She reminded him.

"Yeah, but I just had to make two wonderful babes smile and keep them clean and fed. You fought for someone along with the patriarchy."

"The patriarchy?"

He shrugged and shifted the baby over. She let him. "I just imagine you as the only woman standing in the courtroom."

She blinked. "I'm not always." She started rubbing Maribel's back, and the baby's whimper ceased.

"But often enough," he whispered. They looked at each, their eyes going wide moments later when they realized the baby was sleeping. Vee carefully removed her hand and Mari stirred, mewled.

Harry motioned with his chin and she replaced her hand. They stood breathless, rocking in the same slow rhythm for long moments.

"I think she's really out." Vee said after 15 min. "But I'm afraid for you to lay her down."

"I'll lay down with you guys at first?" He raised his brow.

"Yeah, yeah, ok." He could see her desperation, the call of sleep.

"I'll leave soon as I can. You need sleep."

"So do you." She cocked her head to the side.

He ninjaed his way down to the bed and was thankful he'd gone down to his tee shirt and had worn trousers. He hadn't slept in Jeans since undergrad, he was unwilling to take the habit back up. Maribel moved a bit, but she curled her little body into him and got hold of his earlobe like she did when her sleep was gonna get deep.

"She's got my ear." Harry whispered. They'd found it disrupted her when you dislodged her hold.

Vee tightened her face. "Damn, she's got my pinky." She used to do that to Mateo when they shared a blanket. When he rolled away, she always woke up. It occurred to Harry that Maribel was not a good sleeper, now he was tired enough to be grumpy about it. "I think you're stuck here." Vee opened her big brown eyes and looked up at him from her drowsy lashes.

"Yeah, looks like." He tried to inject some regret in his voice.

And that was how they found themselves forming a cocoon around the sprawled out baby whispering across a shared pillow.

"Can you pull more blanket from the side of the bed? I want to pull it down away from her face, but my shoulders are cold." She sighed with closed lids. "I already feel guilty enough she sleeps on her tummy."

"She started that as soon as she could roll over. And we both got more sleep for it." He adjusted the blanket.

"I know," trickled out slowly. "But it makes me worry."

"I know." He brushed her hair off her face where it had fallen before he could catch himself. Her eyes dragged open. "Vee," he caught her ear lobe between his fingers. "Stop worrying, go to sleep."

"Yeah, yeah, stop worrying, he says." She chuckled and he slid his errant touch away without mention. "But sleep, I can do."

Harry woke up hours later. The sun was using all its cold power to push through the wooden slats. The day would be freezing with that amount of sunshine. That had been a news flash when he'd moved here. Sun like that in the winter equaled brr. But his circadian rhythm insisted he also rise and shine.

He didn't want to wake either female in the bed. Maribel had released his earlobe in her rustling, so he was clear there. But the anchor was stronger in the hand laced with his.

Harry was sad to let it go, but he looked back from the door and congratulated himself on not disturbing them. The warmth of his hand, that was anything but upsetting as he set about checking on Teo and cooking breakfast.

It may be cold outside, but they were snug in here.