#So now you have a flavor of Rain to pick

[wanderlustknightofmagic]

Catastrophe Finale

How long as he just stared into this rift with tears streaming down his eyes? How long was he just still and struggling to accept that his fate is now that of a sole survivor of a place that no one has heard of or ever will? What could he possibly do at this point now that everything he's ever known and loved was cruelly ripped away from him without even getting the chance to say goodbye? Why was his only solace a quiet hope that they didn't have the chance to suffer? So many questions and yet none of this could soothe his wounded soul and crushed spirit.

The paths before Rainald were clear, though he didn't want to even entertain them for now. He needed the time to grieve, he needed the time to heal, but he wouldn't be allowed this in a land where he is a stranger with very little to offer. He was no longer a knight, after all his kingdom was gone. His family name, the crest on his armor, and his memories are all that remain of that place. The value of his armor was now something he could no longer risk, and in an attempt to stave off the harsh march of time, he would quickly remove his armor and wrap it in the cloth he wore beneath, leaving him in just his clothing he wore beneath and without shoes. His staff, too, would need to be kept save, kept alongside the armor to ensure that he could at least hold onto the memories he made while donning the outfit of 'A knight of Levonive'. He can't risk it being damaged in a fight, nor can he risk channeling his magic into it, none of his equipment can be touched unless someone who knows how to fix it can be found.

"Perhaps... -sniff-... Perhaps that should be my start... my new start... I'm not anyone to this world... No longer a knight from another world, no longer a scholar seeking to study for trade... I'm a wandering vagabond who needs to find a new... -sob, sniff- a new home..." In an effort to hold off on grieving any further, he decided to give himself a list of things to do. Once he accomplished all the tasks on his list, then he can take the time to properly mourn all that he's lost. "First off... shelter... Somewhere I can stay... Even before that..." He'd pull out a small pouch and open it. "Ten gold pieces... I don't know what the exchange would be like here..." He would then stare at the gold in the pouch and notice that more tears were falling. "No... No, I don't have anything... This... this too is now a treasure I'll never part with," He'd declare while hugging the small bag to his chest.

"Work... I need work... With work I can... I can distract myself and I can start to build my new life. Yes... I need to get up... I need to get moving... my grief can come later... my sorrows can come later... I have to live. I have to survive. I will not let my kingdom, I will not let their lives... I will not let their existence... fall to nothing. Even if they call it the ramblings of a mad man, or fantasy stories to tell the youth... Levonive... Ealendev... it will live on... in some way," He'd quietly vow to himself before slowly rising from his current position, lifting and clinging to his belongings in his arms as he summoned up a smaller platform and began to ride on it back to the town he was staying at. The blood and the magic circle would remain there until nature retakes the area. The rift closed shortly after Rainald departed, leaving a strange scene should anyone find it.

The wanderer had his starting line in sight, all he had to do, all he could do, was march towards it.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

edit cus tumblr tweaked out n posted the unfinished draft smh.

sitting in the bus with your fifteen minute now ex boyfriend was not something you expected to happen when you’d gotten ready for your date this morning.

you’re sitting as far away from his as possible, or at least as far as he’ll let you go. because of course shouto todoroki just couldn’t let you have one moment without flashing you his sweet little puppy eyes and kissable little pouted lips, three seats away from you.

your face is practically smushed against the window, intently keeping your eyes fixed on the green grass turning dark with rain while you try to keep your eyes dry. you wonder if it’s your fault, if you did something.

more people start coming in, trying to find shelter from the rain. the more people come in the louder it gets, they’re so loud, he’s so loud. he isn’t doing anything but staring at you, but it’s so intense it almost sounds loud. you feel it in the beat of your ears and the beat of your heart, you focus on the rain droplets bouncing off the pavement outside to desperately keep from crying.

you know shouto doesn’t have to take the bus, his dad could probably get someone to pick him up, he’d only made it a habit of taking the bus with you so you could spend more time together. you think maybe he shouldn’t have, it’s his fault, he spent more time with you then he should’ve and somehow that brought him to sit you down on a random park bench, grip on your hand still firm as he told you he thinks it’d be better if you didn’t see each other anymore.

as if you could just stop seeing him, fucking idiot. you’re in the same class, have the same friends, you see him in your favorite manga and the website you read your early leaks on that you shared with him, you see him in your notes because he’d write them down for you when you were sick to bring them to your dorm, you see him in your favorite snacks because you make it a habit of having him guess the flavor of the skittles you’re sharing.

seriously, what a moron. who does he think he is, the love of your life ?!

well, you sure thought he was.

you can’t bear it anymore, this feels like actual torture and you could honestly give less of a shit about how dramatic you sounded. this is unbearable, it’s suffocating feeling those deep colored eyes constantly on you, reaching out and begging and pleading for something you cannot and will not give more of to him.

this isn’t your stop, but it’s close. you can walk the rest of the way. screw the rain and screw him.

you quietly apologize to the people you’re pushing past, though they can barely hear you as you try to keep your wobbly voice even. when you pass by a group of people the start hissing and murmuring behind you and you think you weren’t being loud enough until you realize that of course he’d followed you off as soon as you got off. ever uncaring of the people around him except you know that’s not true. you know shouto cares, he’s kind, but you thought he cared about you and he apparently didn’t, so you trudge forwards with teeth clenched and hands tightened into fists. to desperately keep from crying.

why does he care so much, why did he follow you in the bus and now out of it ? couldn’t he just let you be alone ?? he’s the one who broke it off.

but you’re sure you’re the one who did something, how could he have ? your shouto’s perfect, the sweetest boy in the whole word. teeth clenched tighter and tighter, to keep from crying.

he calls for you, and then again louder over the rain, he won’t let you drown him out. of course he won’t. not when he calls for you again, a cool hand wrapping around your wrist this time. you want to melt despite the chill, but instead you boil ripping your hand out of his grip.

“just go home ! why’d you follow me out here ?!” his eyes are wide and so sad, you’d never raised your voice at him before even during your rare arguments.

“this isn’t your stop..” he tries to reason, voice quietly drifting through the air, the rain hits the pavement and his hair is getting wetter. he’s so handsome, he always is. you want to kiss him and you hate yourself for it.

“yeah, i noticed that too. did that on purpose if you couldn’t tell, which you obviously didn’t.” you’re being mean, you’re spitting everything at him to get him to just fuck off. but of course he won’t, because your shouto is kind. and he reaches out for you again only for you to back away from him.

“i’m sorry.”

“just leave me alone ! why can’t you just leave me alone ?!” you ask him and yourself and anyone who’s listening. you sob when he slowly, ever so softly wraps his arms around you and you push at him and push and push and push him away but he never backs off, he never leaves you alone. not when he’s everywhere. with the smell of his cologne and the softness of his lips on your forehead and the softness of his clothes as he pleads, he’s so sorry he says. but you don’t know why. he’s the one who broke it off right ?

“is it me ?” you whimper, he immediately shushes you but you continue “was it something i did ?”

“no, no it’s not you—it could never be you, love.” his voice is even, or it’s trying to be, you can tell he’s having a hard time with how tightly he’s holding onto you. like you won’t hear him out if he doesn’t keep you close, it’s funny because you’d hear him out even if he was trying to convince you the earth was shaped like a rectangle, hilarious even.

your heart bleeds for him, despite it being his fault your heart is hurting in the first place.

"it's just…better that way" is what he'd managed to spit out. "but listen—look at me." he grabs your cheeks, pulling your face up to look into his unwavering pretty bicolored eyes. he presses the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your lips, you don't think anyone would love you enough to kiss you like this ever again, and the tears keep flowing because you don't think you'd want to be loved like this by anyone other than him. and it makes you press back against him when he kisses you again, and again

" i love you, i do. and it's not you." he reaffirms again, because he knows you're thinking about it

"it isn't you. i love you, angel." he babbles over and over against your lips. "you know i love you, yeah ?" and you want to say you don't, but the shine in his wet eyes tells you everything you already knew, and you kiss him again, and again. his hands, cooling and so invitingly warm still firm against your cheeks.

[nanamis-princess]

Can I rq jjk x depressed reader hcs? And gn reader please!!

Love your works btw, 10/10! You're genuinely one of my favorite people on here

���¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Jujitsu Kaisen men x depressed reader headcanons

Synopsis: your depressed & they wanna make you feel better:)

Genre: fluff with a dose of depression

T/w: depression, mentions of geto making someone go bye bye loll, not being able to take care of yourself. Plz lmk if I missed anything.

Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Yuji, Megumi (separate) X gen reader

Nanami

-Nanami is a very observant partner, that new ice cream flavor you tried and said you liked is now written down in his notes app. When he brought you as his plus one to his company dinner party, he could tell you weren’t found of one of his coworker without you having to say a word about it. He dismissed you both and you carried on with the night. So Kento notices when you start slipping, sometimes even before you do.

-kento will use his sick days to spend time with you, to make sure you’re okay. You’ll spend the morning cuddling, if you want to be held he will hold you and kiss your forehead.

- If you start crying he lets you get it out, he will wipe your tears away. Kento runs his hands along to your upper cheek after wipe your tears, rubbing your temple as tears run down your cheek. “You’ll get through this I promise” he says rubbing your temple near the roots of your hair.

-if you are in a state where you can eat he will prepare you a home cooked meal along with a glass of water. But if you prefer takeout he’ll get it for you, whatever you want to eat its yours as long as you are eating something. Eating together on the couch with light rain hitting the widow, snuggled in with blankets and candles going.

-if you aren’t able to eat he’ll just you take a few bites so you have something in your system along with a glass of water. He also encourages you to indulge, you are already going through enough and he wants you to take it easy.

-along with trying to make it easy if you take any medication he has reminders on his phone until it’s mussel memory to remind you. He cleans up after you as well, he knows how hard it is to get through this and wants to make this process as easy for you as he can.

-he takes care of your hair for you, he’ll bathe you while using essential oils and helps you get dressed along with your nightly routine. “I’m so proud of you for making it through today darling, I know it was draining” he say in a low tone as he rubs the lotion onto your back. He places a soft kiss to your shoulder.

-during the day he gets you out of the bed and to sit in the living room with him, just so you are up out of bed. He picks you up carrying you to the living room along with your comfort blanket. He puts on your comfort show or movie.

Gojo

-He’s a very quick learner, he learned how to take care of you, what to do and what not to do. Satoru will not let you slip through his fingers he will be right there for you. When he was younger he didn’t understand what Geto was going through, now he does so he truly means he will never let you fall.

-after an evening of teaching he comes home with goodies for you and him to share, along with gossip of course to see you teary eyed on your shared bed with your day time clothe still on. The past few days just took a lot from you and he can tell. “My cutie patootie gumdrop what’s wrong?” He asks using the nicknames you laugh at but with actual concern.

-he understands if you prefer not to talk about how you feel or if something made you feel this way but he listens if you do. “If its not easy to talk about right now, we don’t have to” he says softly. Satoru sits at the edge of the bed with you as he gentle wipes off your makeup. After running you a bath and getting you settled in for the evening you both lay in bed eating the sweets he brought home for the two of you.

-it doesn’t matter if he is up all night, he makes sure that you some how get one rest if you have a hard time getting sleep. But if you sleep for long periods of time he lets you. You guys even take naps together, he puts on rains sounds or white noise, your stuffed animals and fluffy bedsheets.

-Satoru makes sure you eat something, big or small portions all that matters is you eat. Along with medication, he even gets you a sweet treat to eat after you take it along with kisses all over your face. “Now that the hard part is done” he kisses your cheek “we can do what you want” he gives you another kiss on the cheek. “We can watch a movie, or that new season of that show you wanted to watch?”

-the next morning after you’ve been going through it you wake up to the curtains slightly open letting some sunshine in with flowers on your nightstand and piece of media you’d been eyeing lately. Along with the smell of breakfast flowing through the apartment.

Geto

-as we know he’s been through this himself so he can spot it a mile away, he stops you mid way as you are trying to make a cup of coffee/tea for yourself. “I can make it, go sit I’ll bring it to you” he say with compassion and a small kiss to your forehead.

-when all you want to do is curl into a ball and do nothing, he lets you but he never leaves your side. Even when its hard he tries to take care of you, getting you to eat or take a shower together. He wants to make this go away for you, so you don’t stuffer anymore. You don’t deserve to suffer.

-if something is bothering you he encourages you to talk about what made you fall into this pit, if he’s able to fix it he will. Annoying coworker or boss that wont leave you alone? That’s too bad they went missing.

-he doesn’t want you to be alone he wants to be right there with you. He cups your face as your tears fall, his thumb wipes them away. “Breath in 1..2..3..4..5, hold it. Breath out 1..2..3..4..5” he says quietly looking into your eyes. “The storm will pass I promise” he says before kissing your cheeks lovingly.

- The curtains are slightly open as the sun goes down your head gentle resting on his thigh as he gently plays with a strand of your hair whiling reading to you.

Yuji

-he loves making you smile and laugh, he will do anything to make you happy. His heart aches when he notices the depression coming back again, he just wants to pick you up and run from it so you never feel that way ever again.

-yuji will take a shower with you while a playlist of your favorite songs are playing, he understands if you just want to get in and out to lay back down so he takes care of washing your body and hair. He gives you a back massage too. He gives you his favorite hoodie that smells like his cologne, it’s a pull over hoodie that he got for his birthday.

-he read somewhere that your environment impacts your mental health so when you go through this he cleans the apartment and lights candles that are your favorite scent.

-holds you all day, all night and every moment that he can. Giving you forehead kisses or kisses on top your head. You guys also have a movie marathon until you feel better, he always lets you pick what you watch.

-has many many many reminders in his phone to remind you to take your medication if you take any. He will even make you milkshakes to take with it.

Megumi

-like nanami he is very observant especially about the ones he loves, he always keeps tabs on you so when it rises he’s ready to take care of you and be there. Doesn’t want you to lift a finger, he just wants you to ride this out. “I promise it won’t last forever, you will come out on top” he says before kissing your temple.

-when he washes your hair and body for he also is washing the bedding. He added essential oils like lavender or eucalyptus to help with calmness.

-pulls you gently to lay on his chest as you drift back asleep. You both take long naps together, you always wake up in his arms.

-he already reminds you everyday to take your medication, this is no different. Expect he got you a new plushy along & your favorite candy along with your refill.

-when he’s up making dinner you got up to use the bathroom, on your side of the bed on the floor you find a stick and a chew toy along with both the dogs on your side of the bed. When realizing you got up they both stood up to follow.

A/N: I really hope you like this! Ur so sweet thank you for saying that! As someone who struggles with depression this made me smile. For anyone going through it, you’ll get through it babes I promise. Plz try drinking water & getting something in your stomach. You deserve amazing things and to take care of yourself.

[plan3tlvrs]

Show me

Warnings: not much just a little suggestive. Smoking, alcohol.

Summary: You and Eren have been friends for years but lately things have been feeling different. WAY different.

(just a light Drabble I’m trying to get back into writing let me know what you all think!)

Light rain pattered against the window as bright head lights approached towards your apartment.

Yeager

I’m outside.

ᥫ᭡

Coming.

You and Eren had been friends for about a few years now but, up until recently things had taken a turn and, you couldn’t justify if they were for better or worse. A crossfaded night at one of Connie and Sasha’s known house parties couldn’t have made it more clearer.

The walk to his blacked out car made your heart beat faster and faster so much that with each step that you could hear it in your ears. By the time you had made it to the door Eren had already made his way to the passenger side light rain hitting his head as he opened the door for you.

“ Thank You” your voice quiet as it was 12am and, your neighbors were known for calling the cops for the slightest of reason.

“Always” Eren spoke while watching you get in the car catching a glimpse of your ass cheek poking out from under your jean skirt.

See the thing was. Eren was never quiet about his feelings for you. If anything he’d always express them towards you even if it was telling you how good you looked or those little forehead kisses he left on you when it was time for you to depart from one another. You knew that Eren liked you I mean hell you’ve known for years now. but knowing Eren for that long means you knew how he was. Eren was never one to keep a steady relationship often getting bored with his “flings”. He had a habit of bringing girls around and then showing up with another two weeks later. His homeboys often asking: “What happens with what’s her name?”

“She wasn’t my type”. He would reply and move on to the next

And he wasn’t wrong they weren’t his type.

You were.

Your hair flowed down the center of your back as you walked over to your group of friends in the center of the smoke filled room. Loud music played as Eren followed right behind you watching your hips sway back and forth thighs rubbing against one another. He watched as if every man in the room’s eye’s watched you sit down and greet your friends.

“ᥫ᭡! I’m so glad you could make it!” Sasha screamed as you sat with her and the rest of the group.

“Girl when do I not make it to one of you and Connies parties” You laughed squishing your cheek against hers.

“What’s up Yeager” Ony stood up to dap up Eren who was still standing.

“You know the usual” Eren spoke giving Ony a hug into their dap.

Moments later Connie came around the corner with a bottle of Don Julio and pre rolls everyone preparing themselves for what was about to happen. You, Sasha and Mikisa taking turns sipping from the bottle and, taking chasers of all types of flavors while sharing one of the blunts between the three of you as the guys did the same.

As you were getting higher and higher you couldn’t ignore the longing stares you were reciving from Eren as you sat on the couch talking to their girls. You avoided his eye contact until you heard Connie speak.

“Yo Eren what happened to the blondie?”

“She just wasn’t it” Eren spoke ashing the blunt out while staring you dead in your face.

It was like he could feel the pulse that traveled down to your core and back up again like it was on repeat. Eren wanted you and you knew it. Deep down you wanted him too but you wanted him to work for it just to prove it.

Of course the little random gifts he’d bring you or picking you up to take you wherever whenever even though you had your own vehicle were short signs but, you needed something deeper. You needed him.

“I’m gonna go to the kitchen and get some water i’ll be right back.” You spoke standing to your feet.

By this time the partied had died down a little bit and people were either leaving or just chilling. As you entered the empty kitchen grabbing a red solo cup from the counter and filling it up with some water from the fridge you leaned on the counter to collect your thoughts.

“You look good tonight” Eren’s voice snapping you out of your gaze on the ceiling.

“Thank you, you look nice as well” A coy smile on your lips.

“I hope you know I didn’t just drop Historia like the others, I let her down slow this time” Eren spoke stepping a little closer to you so you were now face to face pinned between the counter and his tall frame.

“Yeah why is that?” You looked up at him with big brown eyes “ And I don’t wanna hear all that she just wasn’t it shit”.

“You want the truth?”

Your hands traveled to the buckle of is jeans as you spoke softly giving him the direct eye contact he deserved.

“I want you to show me”.

[happilychaengs]

pi(e)ning

a/n: i have not written anything in so long so this might be the worst thing ever, sorry! this really is all over the place

wc: 1975 words

hirai momo x gender neutral reader

"can you just go marry your neighbor already?"

sana's mouth is chock full with blueberry pie, a small moan and a 'god' coming out of her mouth as she keeps taking bites from her fork, "like, this pie – i can't  – it's just so good and you got this for free! free has never tasted so good."

"haha." you cut out a slice from the pie, your fork stabbed at the top, "i actually haven't tried this yet."

sana squirms in her seat from the flavors she's shoving in her mouth, her head almost on a swivel as she takes another bite, a tight smile on her face, "you need to, like right now." 

you pick up the fork as you take a bite of the pie, the crust crumbling in your mouth as you relish in the sweet,slightly sour, and tart flavor that hits the base of your tongue. sana looks at you in anticipation, her eyebrows raised, “well?”

“it’s – it’s really good.” you laugh in disbelief as you take another bite, “do you want to take this home, actually?” 

she gives you a look of wonder, as if you’d just given her a million dollars, “you’re joking – seriously? i mean, are you sure? i wouldn’t mind, but, y’know-”

“yes, i’m serious, sana.” you put down your fork, “momo gives me something new practically everyday now, and i can’t really finish it. i love it all, but it’s sometimes too much for me to eat it all.”

-

“don’t you think this is a bit excessive?” nayeon rests her head over her roommate’s shoulder, looking at the flour spread all over the kitchen counter, her eyes squinting as a bit flies into her face from her roommate kneading the dough around. she coughs slightly as she steps back, “okay. mind explaining what this is all about, momo? i wouldn’t mind if you cleaned up, but you do this almost everyday and never clean up. i always have to pick up after you.”

“i’m making fresh banana bread for someone.” she lets the dough rest in a bowl as she turns to face nayeon, leaning back on the kitchen counter. nayeon looks confused, “who? because i know it’s not me. we literally always have an empty fridge.”

“it’s – it’s for y/n.” momo turns her head away, staring at the resting dough and avoiding nayeon’s eyes, “are you talking about our neighbor? why? do you like them or something?” nayeon laughs, slightly teasing her, but all she gets is silence. “seriously? how?”

it’s not like momo had any real reason to like you, she just did. she had just opened her bakery, and you so happened to be the first person to try it and to really like it, so it never really stopped considering she figured out you two lived next door to each other. with each and every new pastry she gave you, you accepted it happily, and it made her like you even more.

“i’m… going to guess it has to do with your baking, because you are nonstop giving y/n something from our kitchen.” nayeon wipes the flour off her nose as she walks back to her room, “just please clean up, at least.”

-

there’s two rhythmic knocks on your door as sana goes to get it since you’re in the shower, her not expecting it to be anything out of the ordinary. 

“hi, who is it?” sana chirps as her head pops out from the side of the door, surprised as she sees a woman holding a large bag of bread and a bit of flour on her face. “are you momo?”

momo’s face was full of surprise as she didn’t expect someone else to open the door for her, “uh, yeah. how do you know who i am?”

“y/n told me all about you! thank you so much for the food you always give them! it’s always really good!” sana rains compliments on momo, but momo is more focused on the fact that you have another woman over and it seemed like you two were really close.

“right, um, i – where’s y/n? i just wanted to hand them the banana bread i made.” momo tries to steer away from sana, feeling almost a bit uncomfortable being near her because she doesn’t know what type of relationship you two have, but sana grabs the bag out of momo’s hand, leaving it on the table, “y/n’s in the shower right now, but i can let them know you stopped by? or i could go in and just tell y/n?” okay. so you two were close enough to get into the shower together.

“no, no it’s okay.” momo lets out a nervous chuckle, her head low and her heart cracking. “i hope you two enjoy it. i’ll just leave. i’m kind of in a rush.”

sana nods her head understandingly, “yeah, okay, sorry to hold you up then! thank you again!” she basically shoo’s momo to the door, with no idea how it seemed to her.

-

“how’d it go?” nayeon is on the couch, flicking through the shows on tv, barely paying attention, “did y/n like the bread?”

“i think… y/n has a girlfriend.” momo drops her bag on the floor, her back slouched over as she plopped onto the couch. nayeon’s focus shifts, “for real?”

“yeah, she opened the door for me since y/n was in the shower, and basically pushed me out the door after i put down the bread.” momo sinks into the couch, a slight pout forming on her lips as nayeon ruffles her hair, “well, at least you tried. how long have you liked y/n anyways?”

“for a few weeks now.” momo says it in a whisper, scared to admit it because she can’t even begin to fathom how dumb she sounded to nayeon right now.

nayeon’s eyes widened, “are you serious? why haven’t you made an actual move then and why am i finding out just now?” she barrages momo with questions as she sinks deeper into the couch, “why have you only been giving y/n free food and not actually saying how you feel?”

“i’m sorry, okay?” momo sighs, “i just… didn’t know when to say it, i mean, we don’t talk a lot – we just exchange a few words, and i guess – it never came up.”

“hirai momo. you are so dumb. i mean it.” nayeon flicks her forehead, a slight ‘ow’ escaping momo’s mouth. “how are you able to start up your own bakery but you can’t even say three little words to our next-door neighbor?”

-

“hey,” you have a towel on your head as you dry your hair, “what’s up with the bag?” you sit down on your bean bag chair.

“momo dropped by and wanted to give you some banana bread, but you were in the shower so i just told her to leave it here.” 

sana takes out a slice as she takes a bite, “mmph! this is really good!” her voice is muffled with the bread in her mouth, “how did you even get momo to deliver you so much food?”

“i don’t know – i went to her bakery before when it just opened and she said i was the first customer to come in. we talked for a bit and we figured out we were neighbors so i guess she wanted to deliver it to me?”

sana looks at you, confused, because that didn’t sound like the full story, “you sure that’s all she did or said? nothing else? because i don’t think that explains it. maybe she likes you.”

“no way,” you laugh, “we’re just neighbors, right?”

“i don’t know…” sana dusts her hands off as she finishes the slice, “she did seem kind of off when she came by – she looked like she really wanted to see you.”

“really?” your voice is laced with curiosity as you sat up, because honesty, you liked her a bit. 

“you sound interested.” sana teases, “you totally like her.”

-

but momo hasn't come back in days since then. you two see each other in passing – obviously, you two are neighbors – but she just gives you a small greeting and a smile, before seemingly getting away from you. maybe she was in a bad mood.

but she avoids you for another week and so obviously too, that you can’t help but be a little worried. sana finds herself laying down on your couch, crashing here again for the third time this week – even if she was your best friend, this was a bit excessive – as her stomach rumbles. “i miss momo. she was good for you.”

“you mean good for you? i can hear your stomach rumbling.” 

sana laughs as she rubs her stomach, “fine, i loved the food she gave you, okay? but seriously, what did you do? you make it sound like she hates you or something.”

“that’s the thing, i don’t know. i mean, should i try talking to her? i feel like i fucked up by not saying thank you enough or something.”

“you’re stupid.” she laughs.

“i don’t know, maybe that’s why?”

“i doubt it. just go talk to her about it. who knows? maybe you two will fall in love after that and i can continue getting free food!”

you throw a pillow her way, hitting her face, “you’re dumb.”

-

momo sees you down the hallway of the apartment complex you two share again as she’s fumbling with her keys in her back pocket, trying to get her door open, but as luck would have it, it falls out of her hand, onto the floor and you’re calling out her name.

“momo! hold on!” you run up to her as she looks up at you, “can we talk?”

momo’s heart beats a little faster, “uh, sure. what do you want to talk about?”

“i feel bad, y’know, for not saying thank you for the food enough, and i was wondering if i did anything wrong?”

she knits her eyebrows in confusion, “no? why would you say that?

“i don’t want you to think i only want the food – because i don’t – but i don’t want my neighbor to hate me and avoid me everytime she sees me.” you give a nervous chuckle. 

momo opens her mouth to speak, but she sees her roommate standing a few feet back behind you, throwing up these exaggerated gestures, motioning her to say something. “you didn’t do anything wrong, no, i just - i just felt like i was intruding on you and your girlfriend by always coming over.”

“girlfriend?” now you’re the one confused, “i don’t have a girlfriend?”

“what? then… then who was the girl who opened the door for me last time?”

“that was my best friend, sana. i’ve known her since we were in high school, and she just crashes over sometimes. but why would you feel like you’re intruding…?”

“i…” nayeon urges momo to say it from afar, nodding her head excessively, “i actually liked you for a while, y/n.” she lets out a small sigh, as she turns away for a moment, “i always wanted to say something to you when i came over, but i never got the chance to, and then… i saw sana and i thought you two were dating and i guess i couldn't bring myself to come over anymore so i just stopped and you don’t have to like me back or anything, it’s just-”

“stop, momo,” you let out a small laugh, “i think i like you too.”

“really?” she gasps in disbelief, “so…”

“are you busy right now?” 

momo shakes her head, as she smiles, “no, not at all.”

“maybe we can have lunch, then?”

you sound nervous, though momo giggles as she nods her head, “definitely.”

[fbfh]

hmm more leo valdez x reader as parents..

You both knew being parents would have ups and downs, but to your surprise there really weren't that many low points. Your daughter, Sophia, is two, and your well into your second trimester with her soon to be baby brother. Leo thinks the problem started at the park, but you're sure it must have been the playdate with the kid who picks his nose. Either way, your little angel now has a terrible cold.

"Seriously, Annabeth," you sigh into the phone, "poor thing's sick as a dog."

Phia is laying on your lap in her favorite jammies while you rub her back. She can feel the soothing warmth of your hand through the fleecy fabric with little sheep printed on it, and she sighs, coughing a little. Your phone buzzes with an incoming call from Leo, so you say goodbye to Annabeth and hang up, taking your husband's call.

"How's she doing?"

Your heart swells. Despite all the stuff going on in your personal and professional lives, the first thing he asks is if your baby girl is okay. You consider for a moment, looking down at her.

"She's okay," you say, "as much as anyone would be."

"Good." He nods, relieved that she isn't feeling worse than she had been when he left to go to the store. "I'm getting the popsicles now, what flavor did she want?"

You smooth down the flyaways in her hair that looks so much like Leo's, getting her attention.

"Daddy's at the store, bubs. What popsicles do you want?" You ask softly. She sneezes and sniffles before answering.

"Summer-sicles..."

You smile sweetly, turning back to your phone.

"The red white and blue bottle pops." You say. She first tried them on a visit to Camp Half Blood, and they quickly became her favorite. She ate them all summer, hence the nickname summer-sicles.

"Got it." Leo states, and you know he does. "I'll be home in 10. I love you both so much, give her an extra snuggle for me till I get back."

She climbs up into your lap a little more, groaning and rubbing her nose. You place the back of your hand on her forehead, thankful that her fever isn't any worse. The front door opens, and before you can wonder if Leo somehow made it back in a fraction of the time he predicted, you hear a familiar voice.

"Mija!"

Thank the gods. Esperanza is here. You scoop up your daughter and walk to the door to greet her.

"Oh honey..." she coos as her grandbaby reaches out for her.

"Hi 'buela," she sniffles. Esperanza scoops her up and brings her back to the little nest of plushies and blankets you'd made on the couch.

"Ay, mi vida... Mírate, pobre bebe," Esperanza fusses over her, laying her down on the couch. She takes one look at you and can tell how tired and worried you and Leo have been. She reaches out, caressing your cheek.

"You go take a break, mija. I brought everything we need to get our little girl up and running again."

To your surprise, she's actually able to make Sophia giggle. You think it's the first time she's properly laughed since she came down with this bug, and your relief is palpable. Esperanza stands back up, digging through the bags she brought. She pulls out a few containers of food, a tub of vaporub, and a bottle of sprite.

She scrunches up the ankles of Sophia's pajamas and rubs some vaporub onto the bottom of her feet, then grabs a pair of her socks from a laundry basket you forgot to take upstairs. You give her a hug from behind, appreciating everything she does for you, for Sophia and Leo, for bringing Leo into the world in the first place. You thank her, then take the tupperwares of food into the kitchen to start heating up. Soon the kitchen will be filled with the smell of Esperanza's soup, Leo will be home with the popsicles, and after a solid nap you know your girl will be right as rain.

[jinxhallows]

kinktober #o17 | glory

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows glory (praise kink) || chan x fem!reader summary: you and chan met as volunteers for the local cabaret theatre, working as stagehands, but when it blossoms into something more, and the temperatures drop below freezing, chan figures out a way to warm you up, and fast... warnings: praise kink, and all that entails, plot heavy, fluffy, lots and lots of praise, 'daddy' petnames, non-idol AU

word count: 4k masterlist - click here

The first time he let it slip, you two were still just friends.

You both volunteered as stagehands at the downtown cabaret theater, and you had been sent out to purchase some last-minute supplies. Your coat was dripping wet over your arm from running through the rain, a shopping basket hooked in the crook of your opposite elbow, and you held the phone to your ear, spinning around to decipher the location of the checkout.

"Did you get the safety pins?" Chan's voice came through the phone.

You nodded, even though Chan couldn't see you. "Yeah."

"And-"

"I also got the glue gun sticks, an extra pack of AA batteries, and a small can of black acrylic paint," you rattled off.

"Good girl," Chan responded, genuinely impressed.

At the time, he had no idea that his words had a much different impact on you than he could have ever imagined. The idea of him praising you under very different circumstances had ignited a fire within you, one you couldn't ignore.

The season progressed and Chan worked up the courage to ask you out for drinks and now you two are barely two months into a very new relationship. Still working together, now as hired staff seasonally, at the cabaret theatre, you two are now working together on helping out with the production of A Christmas Carol.  It’s two months until showtime, so you’re in the thick of things, managing a team of stage designers. Chan is managing the costume department and overseeing music direction. He has a brief gap between meetings, so he decides to surprise you by grabbing your favorite drink and muffin from the local coffee shop. After leaving a generous tip in the paper cup at the front of the register, he heads back to the theater through the brisk winter cold.

Chan enters the theater's workshop, finding you in your office. He closes the door behind him, greets you with a kiss and your drink, and then takes off his coat. As he hangs it on the nearby coat rack, you take a sip of the drink, savoring the warm, spicy flavors of your favorite spiced winter beverage. Opening the small, white paper bag, you take out your favorite muffin. "I needed this so badly. I was late this morning and couldn't grab breakfast."

"Why didn't you call? You know I could've picked you up," Chan says, sitting on the edge of your desk as you ease into your chair. You blow on your drink, preparing it for a sip. "Your car's been in the shop for weeks now. Any word on what's going on with it?"

You pause for a moment, taking a sip of your drink as you ponder how to address the issue. You've been avoiding Chan's questions about your mode of transportation since receiving the bad news. You're hesitant to reveal that you don't have everything under control, fearing it might push Chan away. After swallowing, you gather your thoughts and finally speak up.

"It's gonna be a while," you say, your voice tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

At this point, Chan has confirmed his suspicion that you're intentionally keeping this information from him. He nods, taking in your response, and glances at his watch. Fiddling with one of its links, he contemplates whether you've been together long enough for him to press you about these matters. He doesn't want to start an argument or intrude on your privacy, but he's genuinely concerned, especially with the weather getting colder and the distance you live from the theatre.

"That... doesn't sound good," Chan finally says, after you've taken another sip, looking back at you. You can feel the hesitation in his words and sense that he's holding something back. Your fingers nervously tap against your cup in an unknown rhythm that's stuck in your head. "Yeah, the engine, it's kind of... shot," you say, tapping the cup at a higher tempo. You find the lid of your cup more interesting than Chan's attempt to hide his shock. He knows he's not great at concealing his emotions, and he clears his throat, suddenly fascinated by his watch.

"Wow, that's... I'm sorry to hear that. Engine troubles can be expensive. You know if you need any help at all—"

"I'm just getting another car. I've been looking, but I haven't had the time yet, especially with the production coming up, so I've been taking the trains. I'm okay, though, Chan, really," you reassure him. Setting your cup down, you interlock your fingers, resting your chin on them, and offer him a disarming smile.

"Since you've had time to come visit me, I'm guessing you're ahead of schedule?" you inquire, relieved when you see his focus shift, steering the conversation in a different direction. 

For now, you've evaded his questions again.

"Like a well-oiled machine. In fact, there's a little bit left over in the budget to get the fog machine fixed."

"Chan!" you laugh, "How did you manage that?"

"A few people owed me a few favors. I know how much you wanted to give those Ghost of Christmas Future scenes more ambiance." Chan embraces you, and you eagerly rush into his open arms, hugging him tightly, the scent of his shampoo and cologne filling your senses. When you let go, he slowly turns you around in his embrace, his arms encircling your body, your back against his chest.

"Thank you for this. Oh, Hailey will be so excited to hear this, and Thomas, we'll have to space out the set for Act Three, but that's no problem. I—" You stop yourself, your hand on your forehead as you catch yourself from rambling again. Chan loves seeing you excited like this, so he never stops you during your enthusiastic outbursts. You turn around, your arms resting on his shoulders, and you kiss him, expressing your gratitude with a hundred silent thank-yous.

Chan finds the courage to speak out, his hands gently resting along your waist. "Please let me give you a ride, at least to and from here. You live outside the city, and I'd feel better knowing you're safe in this cold." He anticipates a rebuttal and adds, "Just for the cabaret. Whatever else you do is your business, but if you did need me for other rides, I'd be up for it—just needed to get that out there," nodding affirmatively to you and himself.

You decide to accept his offer this time. You had guessed wrong; it had never left his mind the entire time.

"Fine," you roll your eyes with a small smirk, "I just know you live in the city, and that's out of your way."

"It's not, honest," Chan stands up and leans forward, kissing your forehead. "You're really special to me." With a smile, he heads out and adds, "I'll meet you in the lobby after rehearsal."

"You're really special to me..."

Those words reverberate in your mind for the next four hours of work. They're louder than the hammering of nails into wooden boards, louder than saws cutting through plywood, and even louder than the timpanis in the orchestra pit.

As you work, your head down while distressing the paint on the side of a fake building, you can hear Chan stopping and starting the musicians, going over pieces meticulously. It's hard not to lock eyes with him when he glances over at you occasionally.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is entranced by the way you bring a vision to life, ingeniously assembling pieces that leave him baffled. He observes you walking among other stagehands, adeptly adjusting a streetlamp, your gloved hands confidently resting on your hips, toolbelt hanging down. You point, shake your head, and oversee adjustments, stepping back and tilting your head, scrutinizing it from various angles before granting it a thumbs-up.

Every so often, you cast an inconspicuous glance over your shoulder, but Chan has already shifted his focus long enough to deceive you into thinking he wasn't watching. He splits his attention between you and the piano, directing the musicians, a sight he relishes.

At one point, a designer stands beside the piano with a partially costumed actor, waiting for the right moment to approach Chan. The designer holds up a piece of velvet red fabric against the navy blue costume.

"Was thinking maybe this material?" the stylist asks.

"Nah, not really, the blue is better against the gold buttons," Chan nods, providing his expert opinion.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Thomas' voice teases, breaking your focus and startling you from your reverie.

"Oldest one in the book. And corniest," you quip back.

"Don't do it, boo. I'd be distracted if Chan were mine too," Thomas remarks, and you both sneak another glance in Chan's direction. "He is a delicious piece of sweet potato pie, ain't he?"

You nudge Thomas playfully, and both of you head backstage.

As the day concludes, everyone gathers around for announcements and updates from the director. Afterward, people begin to disperse. You're embraced by hugs from Thomas and other crew members who've become like family. The holiday break is upon you, and some are leaving town to enjoy their vacation. The lobby teems with people, and amid the crowd, you spot Chan. You hear him chatting with others, and as he finishes, his expression brightens as he spots you.

You’re really special to me… You give Chan a warm hug. It's cozy inside, a welcome refuge from the cold winter winds outside.

"Ready?" he asks with a grin.

You nod, and together, you make your way to the exit. The bitter cold greets you as you step outside, and the wind feels like needles on your exposed cheeks. You tug your scarf up around your nose to protect yourself from the icy gusts. Chan holds you even closer as you both step out into the open, and he opens the passenger door of his nearby parked car.

The car's interior offers immediate warmth, and you welcome it with relief. Chan yawns as the silence settles in around you. He had a busy but good day, and now he's just as eager to hear about yours, especially after getting lost in watching you do your thing.

"Are you sure you wanna do this? Like, drive me all the way home?" you ask, your voice tinged with doubt.

"Yes, I want to drive you all the way home," Chan says with a chuckle. He starts the car, shifting it into reverse to back out of the parking space. "And then I want to walk you all the way to your door, and then I want to kiss you, like we're a couple of teenagers from the fifties."

You laugh at his sweet sentiment.

"I'm serious! You make this relationship thing feel like it's worth something, like it's something I can do... forever," Chan says. He starts to feel a little self-conscious about gushing and quickly dials it back. "You're just... really special to me." There it is again.

"Chan," you begin, and there's a moment of hesitation.

"Yeah?" Chan's gaze remains fixed on the road, but he's eager to hear your words.

"I love you," you say, surprising both yourself and him with the sudden confession.

Each quiet second Chan spends frozen on the road ahead makes you want to backpedal.  It’s too soon.  Are you dumb? He’s gonna think you’re crazy.  It’s not even three months yet.

“I love you too.” He says, and it comes out like his own kind of word vomit, at the tail end of his ruminating thoughts of whether or not you actually meant your statement.  Then he guilts himself for doubting the expression of your feelings. Chan would just like to get out of his own head for thirty seconds.

"Ok, now that that's settled," you say, your humor helping to break the tension, and you settle into your seat with a sigh. "I'm sorry I get so weird about you helping me sometimes. I just feel like you have your shit together, and I'm still trying to figure it all out. I know you didn't sign up to get a girlfriend with a bunch of problems—baggage."

Chan snorts, a mixture of amusement and relief. He's glad to hear that this is what's been on your mind, that you've been carrying a self-imposed burden. He appreciates the vulnerability in your words. Sometimes he needs to feel needed, especially in a relationship.

"I'm not sure what your definition of having my shit together is, but this version of me, isn't it," he says with a smile. "I didn't sign up for a girlfriend with a perfect life. I signed up for Y/N, and all that comes with her. How dare you short me the fries to my combo?"

You both share a laugh, and as the car settles into the quiet hum of the engine, you notice snow falling and sticking to the slushy roads as you leave the city behind and enter the suburbs. You check the weather forecast on your phone, prompting you to speak up.

"There's a frost advisory tonight, love," you muse. "You think you should stay over tonight? The roads are gonna be awful."

Chan hadn't planned on it, but he realizes he has nothing urgent to rush home to, and he's getting pretty tired too.

"Good idea."

It takes another thirty minutes, but soon, Chan is pulling into your driveway, turning off the car and walking you to your door just as he said he would. He waits patiently next to you, his hands warming in his pockets as he looks around at the snow falling and piling up, covering the black streets in blinding white reflected against the streetlights.

It's a perfect night to snuggle with a special someone.

You turn on the music, an old Aqualung album filling the former silence, making the blanket of white outside look even more magical. You had never found yourself enjoying the quiet company of another until you started dating Chan. It's a new experience for both of you since you can get lost in conversation for hours. But with Chan, there's no pressure to keep coming up with new topics. It's one of the many reasons why he enjoys your company. He can just be himself around you.

You come over to join Chan as he sits on the floor against the couch. He initially begins to unfold his crossed legs to make room for you, but you extend a leg over his, straddling him instead, holding two cups of hot cocoa in your hands.

"Oh, well hello, beautiful," he chuckles, taking one of the mugs from you.

The way he says it makes your heart flutter, and you can't help but tease him. You sip your drink, looking at him with a mischievous gaze. "There's just something about the way you say those things to me."

"What things, baby?" Chan asks, playing along. He knows what you mean, but he loves hearing it from you. "When I tell you how pretty you are? How I get caught staring at you at work at least five times a day by the other volunteers?"

You can't contain your giggles, and he takes your mug and his, placing them on the coffee table as he cups your face. "I can feel how hot your cheeks are getting too."

"Because!"

"Because why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't list every reason why I've fallen in love with you to your face."

You bite your lip, realizing Chan's winning the playful banter. He holds onto your hips, shifting himself underneath you and readjusting, all while focusing on being romantic rather than all the nasty things he wants to do to you with you straddling him like this.

He kisses you, gently at first, and then more passionately. "For one, you are beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that..." You notice the drop in Chan's volume and the edge his tone gains, making you crave him in ways you haven’t been able t0 have him yet. “I like that.” “Yeah?  You do? You should, ‘cause you’re a pretty girl, my pretty girl of course.” Chan's eyes linger on your lips, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in a single kiss that leaves both of you lingering, breathing heavily, your faces close.

"Call me your pretty girl again, and you might start something you can't finish."

"Who says I can't finish it, pretty girl?" Chan counters with a sly smile, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Chan is the next to initiate another kiss, drawing you into a passionate embrace. His hands trail up the bare skin of your back, hidden beneath your hoodie, leaving a trail of sinfire in their wake. You lean your head back with a gasp as he hums against your neck.

"Listen to those breaths you take, so sweet for me," Chan says, eager to hear more of your reactions. He sucks hard enough to leave a bruise under your collarbone, making you gasp in response.

"Oh my God, Chan, I—" You start to express concern, but the juxtaposition of his arousal and your own, both concealed beneath clothing, interrupts your common sense. He shouldn't be marking you up like this. You realize you'll need to wear a turtleneck or a collared shirt to cover your collarbone.  “B-Be careful-”

"I'm sorry, baby. You're just so intoxicating, you know that?" Chan manages to peel himself away from devouring you for a brief moment, a feat that takes immense self-control. "And you have the most adorable smile."

You try to hide your smile, but he pulls your arm away. "No, let me see it. Look at how you get when I compliment you. I can't tell if you love it or hate it, but it's damn hot seeing you get all shy like this. Makes me want to say more, see how else your body responds to me."

"I think it's turning me on," you admit, your voice slightly shaky, and a coy smile forms on your lips.

“You think?” Chan states more than questions, running his nose and lips against your chest, peppering kisses up your neckline. He sucks again, leaving another mark, this time closer to your jaw. You moan in response, and he tangles his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you in for a kiss. Your lips bruise against his, swollen as he pulls back, looking up at you as if you were Aphrodite herself.

“Thank you, babygirl. I’m sorry I left a couple of marks.”

“It’s okay, you should leave a couple more.”

So Chan does just that.

You hold onto his neck as he moves forward, pressing you into the floor, lifting your hoodie up and sliding it over your arms so he can lay more open-mouthed, deliciously wet kisses down to your navel. He dips his tongue in, taking your piercing between his teeth. Your back arches, and he's going for your jeans, ready to unbutton them, but he stops, sitting up on his knees.

Chan knows if he goes any further, it would be akin to dragging him from quicksand.

He has to ask first.

“We’ve never gone this far,” Chan says, feeling somewhat awkward for not just outright asking you. You realize, of course, that you two haven't gone this far, but Chan wants to ensure you're comfortable. How much further are you willing to go? Chan can easily wrap things up right here, but the way you're writhing underneath his lips every time they press into your skin, leading further and further down south; Chan needs you to tell him otherwise. “I want to go further,” you say, your thumbs hooked into the top of your pants. “You told me you'd finish it, didn't you?”

You assist him in getting your bottoms off, and he nuzzles against the damp fabric of your panties, taking in your scent. “Had no idea you’d smell this amazing,” Chan says, pulling your panties aside to slip a finger in, curling it up. “You must really want me, hmm?”

“Mhm, I do.”

“Can you take more fingers, baby?” “Yeah, I can,” you nod fervently, vigorously, eager to feel him spread you further. Chan gets two more fingers inside of you, and he pulls the panties even further around your lips, leaning down to kiss and suck your clit. He enjoys the way his saliva catches the light as you buck your hips up.

“Prettiest pussy I've ever seen, babygirl. Are you going to let my cock feel it too?”

“Yes, please, daddy?”

Chan has to process the fact that you've called him this. He nearly short-circuits.

“You must want to be my good girl tonight,” he says as he pulls off his hoodie, tossing it aside and unbuttoning his pants.

“I'd give anything to be your good girl, Chan.”

“Anything?”

His fat cock slaps against your wet slit as he holds it firmly. “Anything.” you begin to twist your hips, attempting to grind in a way that will make him slide inside you. You're wet, it's spread everywhere, slicking your inner thighs and cheeks. All it takes is one good thrust, and he can –

“I want this, right here,” his firm taps stop you in place, and his eyes lock onto yours as he pushes his cockhead between your folds, stopping as soon as he's sheathed inside, feeling your walls begging for more. “You feel so wet, baby. Is this for me?” he asks, inching inside until he's halfway in. Chan wants to stop, but the sensation of your walls squeezing him proves to be too much, and he bottoms out inside of you.

“Yes!” You cry out, stronger and louder than you intended, spawning Chan to thrust again, rutting into you. He doesn't always go deep; in fact, he's stroking you at just the right angle to make you see stars as you drag your almond nails down his back, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

“S-sorry,” you hiss, your head falling against the floor as you cum around his cock. “Keep it up, baby,” he encourages you, “You look so good taking me like this right now, so fucking good.”

"I-I look—"

His firm grip on the strands of your hair at the nape of your neck forces your gaze upwards, compelling you to meet his intense, smoldering eyes.

"Beautiful," he breathes as his thrusts take on a deliberate, measured pace. Each motion propels you closer to the precipice of another orgasm, and you can barely keep your eyes open. His hand presses flat against your head, angling it so you can witness the raw, primal connection between your two bodies. "You look beautiful, say it." You gasp and muster the strength to whisper, "Beautiful," as he introduces two of his fingers to your lips. You eagerly accept them, your tongue tantalizingly caressing the pads of his digits, still bearing traces of your earlier essence. He withdraws his fingers and expertly circles your clit with confident, steady pressure, evoking whimpering pleas from deep within you.

"Such a good girl," he praises with a low, smoky voice, pride lacing every word. "I'm so proud of you, baby. Can you cum again for me? I just wanna see that face one more time.” He wants to etch the vision of your blissed-out expression into the depths of his consciousness, ensuring it's the first thing he sees every morning as he awakens with thoughts of you.   Instinctively, you attempt to shield your contorted, furrowed brows with your hands, but Chan swiftly restrains your wrists, pinning them above your head with a powerful grip. His other hand intensifies its attentions to your clit, moving more vigorously.  He pairs this with shallow, accurate thrusts,each one striking your g-spot with unerring accuracy, causing you to unravel until you could think no more.  You’ve been fucked dumb, for the first time in your life.  As you gradually return to your senses, you struggle to find words or even make sense of how another human being can make you feel this extraordinary.

Amidst the haze of your post-orgasmic stupor, a lucid thought pierces through: sex is a potent, heady concoction, a force to be reckoned with.

Then, the second wave of awareness washes over you when you hear Chan's voice, close to your ear, whispering those two potent words, "Good girl." - fin

[kennarose1108]

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader !CHILDHOOD ENIMES! !PART 4!

ANTHONY'S POV

She looked so stunning... Standing there nervous with her breathing heavy and staring up at him.

He saw the innocent stare on her face and he wanted nothing more but to ruin that innocence and take her as his own...

But he was a gentleman.

He couldn't just do that.

So he leaned in but stopped about an inch away. "Wh... What are you doing?" She asks him again. Anthony's other hand trailed down her arm and slowly pulled off her glove. He dropped it to the floor when it was removed he took her hand in his. "You feel it too don't you...?" He whispers.

"That feeling... The one of desire..." He whispers, his lips barely away from yours. "I could teach you so many things..." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Anthony... We can't..."

"Oh, but we must..." Anthony whispers right after you.

"If you don't feel the same tell me now and I'll walk away..." He says. He could tell she was at a loss for words at first before she let out a shaky breath, "I do not know what I feel..." She murmured. His fingers intertwined with hers.

God... Her bare skin felt so good against his... He wanted to touch every inch of your skin... He wanted to taste every inch of your skin.

"Tell me... Tell me how you feel. Just think about it for a moment... About the feelings you have." He says while rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles. "Anthony w-we really... Can't." She whispers. Anthony stares at her momentarily, just taking in her scent, looks, aura... Everything. He wanted her fully in his memory before he did something that took all his strength to do...

He pulled away.

He let his fingertips leave her skin and he takes a step back. "I understand..." He nods and looks down. "No Anthony it's not... It's not like that, please... Just... It's too complicated." She says, clearly nervous and slightly desperate for him to understand. And he did. He did understand.

He nods again and looks up at her, "I understand Y/N. I am a gentleman. I will not force you to do something you are not comfortable doing." He says with a soft smile.

"It's not that I..." She starts but stops herself. There was a moment of silence between the two, them just staring at one another and both contemplating on what to do next. Finally, Anthony spoke up, "Let's go back to the carriage." He says while shrugging off his jacket. "Here, we'll have to run." He says with a smirk while giving her his jacket. She took it and raised it over her head to shield herself from the rain as they both ran back to the carriage. The carriage ride home was silent other than her telling him to take her straight home.

Once they got to her home she went to hand him her jacket but Anthony put his hand up to stop her, "Keep it for now. Use it to get inside the house. I'm sure we'll be seeing one another again sweetheart." He says with a wink. She blushes slightly but doesn't say anything before leaving the carriage.

Anthony watched as she quickly ran inside her home and he sighed. He wanted her so badly... But he couldn't have her. Not yet anyway.

------------------------------------------

A couple of weeks went by and Anthony had done his best to try and ignore her and ignore his feelings and focus on Kate. He got fitted for a tux, and they picked out a wedding cake flavor and where to have the wedding.

But the thought of her still lingered in his mind...

And now tonight was another ball and he knew he'd be seeing her again... He swallowed his pride and went to the ball. Anthony and Kate entered the ball arm-in-arm with big smiles on their faces... That was until he saw her.

She looked stunning, as always, but she looked upset. She was sitting by herself and looking at the people dancing... She seemed to not want to be there.

After a few minutes, Anthony peeled away from Kate walked over to her, and sat beside her. "For such a stunning lady you surely do have such a sad frown," Anthony says. She turns her head and glares at him and he chuckles softly, "And such a piercing glare..." He murmurs under his breath.

She turns away and sighs, "My mother has been on me for days... And because I've been avoiding her and her suitors none want to court me anymore. So now she's on me even more." Her gaze fell down as she spoke. "I just wish to be free... Is that too much to ask?" She says while turning her head towards him. He could see tears in her eyes and it broke his heart.

He wanted nothing more but to pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be alright... But he couldn't. Not here at least.

"Would you like to take a stroll with me in the garden? To get away?" Anthony suggests. "I don't think that's allowed..." She says but she was clearly intrigued by this idea. "Who cares?" Anthony chuckles. He then stands up and holds his arm out to her, "I would enjoy your company." He says with a smile. She hesitates before taking his arm. He leads her out into the garden and they walk around in the dimly lit garden arm-in-arm and just in silence.

It was a comfortable silence. But finally, Anthony decided to speak up, "I know you hate getting dressed up... But you truly look beautiful." Anthony says with a charming smile. She smiles back, "Thank you..." She says.

Anthony then clears his throat, "I would like to apologize for my actions a few weeks ago." They both stop as he continues, "It was ungentlemanly and I shouldn't have been so forceful on you..." Anthony says. She shakes her head, "Anthony... I told you that's not what I meant by we can't I..." She says before sighing.

"Listen... I just... I don't understand my own feelings and I don't want to ruin anything with you and your fiancé..." She explains. "Y/N... I won't shy away from my feelings." Anthony says while pulling his arm out of her grip.

"I want you." He says. She shakes her head, "No... You can't." He steps forward, "Oh, but I can." He says, his arm snaking around her waist. "I know you feel the same... The way your breath hitches when we touch, the way your face blushes when I do a kind gesture for you... I know you feel the same." He says, repeating himself at the last part.

"It doesn't matter what I feel..." She says with a heavy breath. "To me it does..." He whispers, his lips just inching towards hers.

But then a bush rustled near them causing her to gasp and both of them turned to the sound. But, luckily, it was just a bunny running through a bush. She lets out a sigh of relief and pulls back. "Anthony... This is wrong... W-We can't..." She says while shaking her head. "We cannot deny our feelings for one another..." Anthony says and she sighs and turns to walk away. He quickly follows after her.

He calls her but she ignores him as they walk back into the ball, she hurries up the stairs, trying to get away from him. She goes into a room, which seems to be the library in the manor, and tries to shut the door in his face but he grabs the door and makes his way inside. She backs up until her back hits a table in the room.

"We can't..." She says. "We must." He answers back.

"Anthony it's wrong." She says with a huff. "Since when has love been so wrong?" He answers. She scoffs, "Now you claim to love me?"

"I have always loved you!" He says, a little bit too loudly. "Since we were children... I have always loved you." He says, his voice barely above a whisper. She stares at him with a sad stare, "You are to be married..." She whispers.

"I will leave her." He says quickly. Her eyes widened, "You cannot!" She says. "But I can." He says back. "Your reputation will be ruined! You cannot!" He then grabs her hips and pulls her close to him.

"I. Don't. Care. I want you. My heart aches for you... I only want you." He says in a low and seductive, but sincere, tone of voice... They stare at one another, both of their breaths heavy and their hearts yearning for one another...

She then grabbed the collar of his shirt before yanking him forward and kissing him passionately.

PART 5?

[uas-fics]

Title: Tripping into Friendship

Rating: E

Summary: Leshy trips over a cat in the dark.

Ships: LeshyCat can be read platonically.

Warnings: Spoilers for the post-game,

Other Information: I was gonna wait to post this but I think people needed a distraction today.

Read on AO3

---

The air smelled pleasantly of incoming rain. The clouds had to be obscuring the moon. Not that it matters at all to Leshy whether the pale face in the sky showed its light down on the cult grounds. He couldn't see it anyway.

Leshy counted under his breath as he picked his way carefully back from the outhouse. He sniffed the air to ensure he could still find his scent from his earlier trip.

...thirty-three steps, thirty-two steps, thirty-one steps...

He tripped over something large and soft and stumbled face-first into cold dirt.

Leshy swallowed a mouthful of earth and cringed. The dirt in this horrid place was nothing compared to the potent and complex flavors of his Darkwood. He ran his tongue around his mouth, gathered the remaining pieces of bland dirt then spat them out.

Whatever he tripped over stirred and started to grumble.

"Huh? What...Oh, my Lamb!"

Soft paws touched Leshy's shoulders as a vaguely familiar voice apologized.

So it was one of The Lamb's little followers he had tripped over. Had he taken a wrong turn heading back towards his shelter, or had the follower moved to sleep in his path? Either answer, Leshy hoped this fool knew how lucky they were. Had he had his crown and power still, their blood would be watering the flowers of Darkwood and their flesh feeding his army of devotees.

The follower attempted to haul Leshy to his feet, but Leshy threw his arm out, pushing them away. He did not need help!

He stood and wiped the inadequate dirt from his knees.

"Again, I am terribly sorry, Mr. Leshy," The follower continued, and Leshy finally recognized the voice:that one yellow cat—well, Narinder told him this follower was a yellow cat, anyway. He didn't know for sure.

He hadn't bother to learn any of The Lamb's precious little flock's names or voices. They were unimportant. The only reason he remembered this one in particular was the cat's act of disgusting kindness in giving him a flower and reassuring words that, of course, Leshy did not need or want.

"You had better be," Leshy snapped. "What are you doing in my path, anyway?"

"My tent collapsed," the yellow cat explained. "It happens sometimes. Usually, The Lamb fixes it but they are resting after their crusade, so I thought I could sleep outside until morning."

"Oh, no, you should definitely go and wake them." Leshy smirked. "They are a god now. They do not need sleep." The thought of ruining The Lamb's slumber tantalized Leshy, but before he could continue to goad the yellow cat, a fat drop of water hit the top of his head. He turned to face the sky as more droplets fell.

The yellow cat sighed. "So it is supposed to rain. I was worried about that."

Leshy took a deep breath. He liked the rain. The humidity it brought with it freshened his leaves.

His favorite part, however, was the sound that came with a downpour.

The sound of heavy raindrops hitting the leaves of Darkwood was like music, a primal drum beat only found in his lands. His heart sank. It was a beat he would probably never hear again.

He took another breath to shift his attention away from his sorrow and homesickness.

"Son of a--!" Leshy jumped in realization.

"W-what?" The yellow cat gasped.

"My scent trail!" Leshy gritted his teeth. The downpour had already started to wash away his lifeline back to his shelter. What was worse, he'd forgotten what his step count was, too. Great! Now he would have to spend the rest of the night trying to find his way back in the rain!

"Do you need help to your shelter?" The yellow cat asked. "I can take you!" He sounded cheerful as if helping a dethroned god back to his humble shelter was something he looked forward to every day.

Leshy should have told the him to leave, but he was tired and wanted to get back into his shelter. He needed his sleep for when he inevitably had to deal with The Little Lamb and his brother bossing him around.

"I will allow it, but put your hand down. I will not take it."

The yellow cat made a noise of confusion, and Leshy gave a cheeky smile. He didn't need eyes to predict what someone like the yellow cat would do. While his realm had been the constant change of chaos, Leshy had a good mind for order and predictability, as well.

"Just take me back," he ordered.

A pause—Leshy guessed he probably nodded—then the yellow cat hastily said, "Of course! Follow me."

---

Leshy almost regretted not taking the offered paw as the two made their way back to his shelter. The rain drumming against the ground made it nearly impossible for him to hear the cat's footfalls—if he could have heard them at all in the first place.

He remembered all the times he would watch Narinder sneak up on Kallamar, walking casually with those silent feline feet of his, just to make their older brother jump when he tapped his shoulder.

Leshy almost smiled at the memory but pressed his lips together to force it away. Narinder wasn't fun anymore. He was boring and bossy. Go do this, Leshy! You can't eat that, Leshy! The Lamb says, Leshy...

He couldn't wait until The Lamb brought back Heket. She wasn't boring, just bossy, but Leshy had grown accustomed to her ordering him around in the thousand years he, Heket, Kallamar, and Shamura had ruled the lands.

And when she gets here, I will not have to feel so alone

Leshy scowled into the darkness at the uninvited thought.

The Lamb's flock didn't like him. Most seemed scared of him, as far as he could tell. Those who weren't rightfully scared only spoke to him with anger and resentment. Unless prompted by necessity, the followers did not interact with him. They didn't invite him to sit during dinner or join in a dance circle. He could not entirely blame them. Outsiders in his own cult were treated with the same level of suspicion, even the ones from his siblings' cults.

The only follower who treated Leshy with warmth seemed to be the one leading him, and Leshy could not understand why.

The two made it to his shelter without Leshy tripping on anything or anyone else. Even with the heavy rain, the strong smell of camilla that circled the shelter wafted to Leshy. He had planted the flowers as part of his claim to the shelter from seeds The Lamb brought from Darkwood.

Leshy felt along the side of the thick wooden shelter until his fingers brushed the canvas door. He pushed it open and stepped inside the warm building.

"Are you coming in or not?" he asked, keeping the grand shelter's door open with one arm.

Though he loath to admit it, it would not be a bad idea to make some...alliances in the cult now that he was stuck here. He smiled to himself. Shamura would be so proud of his forethought.

The yellow cat muttered his thanks before slipping under Leshy's arm. Leshy dropped the canvas closed then shook the water from his body. Drier now, he moved forward until his feet hit the nest of mostly ill-gotten blankets he called a bed. He flopped down to his back.

The rain beat against the roof in a steady rhythm as the wooden structure groaned against the weather.

"Wow, this shelter is really nice. It's warm and sturdy!" The yellow cat complimented, sitting down at the edge of the blanket pile. "The Leader must like you to let you live here."

"It is unworthy considering my past station, but it will do."

The Lamb had not given Leshy the roof over his head. In actuality, Leshy claimed the shelter when the previous occupant dropped dead near the shrine one day. Leshy made sure both his brother and The Lamb knew he would bully anyone who tried to take it from him. His threats were enough to make The Lamb relent and allow him to move from the pathetic canvas tent he had been sleeping in.

Leshy took a blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders, careful not to get it stuck on his branches. He yawned and leaned with his back pressed against the wall.

"Sleep wherever. It does not matter to me."

Leshy listened as the yellow cat shuffled around his shelter for a moment. It had to be dark, so, like Leshy himself, the yellow cat was blind to his surroundings. He brushed his fingers against Leshy's tail, only to jerk away and mutter an apology.

Leshy would roll his eyes if he still had them. He took the blanket from his shoulders and tossed it to where he thought the yellow cat was. A muffled 'oof!' confirmed he hit his target. He pulled a second blanket from his nest and returned to his cocoon of warmth.

"Thank you. Um, good night, Mr. Leshy."

Leshy grunted in response and drifted off to sleep.

---

It wasn't quite morning yet when Leshy woke again, as he couldn't hear the bustle of The Lamb's flock or the smell of breakfast cooking. The rain hadn't stopped, but it had faded to a light drizzle.

From beside him, something breathed deeply. Leshy nearly pushed it away before remembering the events that unfolded a couple of hours earlier. He slowly reached his fingers and brushed warm fur. The yellow cat was pressed against his hip, sound asleep.

Well, Leshy had told him to sleep wherever.

Leshy ran his fingers along the fur until he found a particularly soft spot near, what he assumed, was the yellow cat's ear. He absentmindedly stroked the spot, enjoying the warmth under his fingertips.

The yellow cat began to purr, a resonating sound that filled the shelter. He stopped, startled. He had forgotten that cats did that when they were comfortable. More than a thousand years had passed since he'd had a cat purring so close to him.

He pulled his hand to his chest. What was he doing? He didn't know this cat.

What if he woke up angry that Leshy touched him? If Leshy was going to gain favor with this cat, he had to...oh, what was it The Lamb had said? Oh, yes, Leshy would have to 'put his divine entitlement' to the side.

Though thousands of years protecting Darkwood earned him that 'entitlement', Leshy knew The Little Lamb had something of a point.

The yellow cat shifted and Leshy stiffened. Had he woken him?

The yellow cat yawned and squirmed around until his head and arms rested on Leshy's lap. He released a heavy, contented sigh.

Leshy cautiously put his hand on the top of the yellow cat's head and petted the space between his ears.

The yellow cat began to purr again, vibrating against Leshy's lap.

As Leshy began to nod off, he decided since the yellow cat laid on his lap, the petting wasn't 'entitlement.' It was just being fair.

----

The warmth around Leshy was suddenly pulled away, leaving him cold and annoyed.

"Get up," Narinder ordered, dropping the blanket he'd so cruelly taken with a soft plop. "The Lamb says you aren't allowed to keep skipping morning sermons, Leshy."

Leshy groaned, covering his head with his arms. He didn't want to listen to The Little Lamb prattle on, He wanted to listen to--

Leshy pushed himself up and started feeling around for the yellow cat.

"Where did he go?" He demanded of his brother. "Where is he?"

"He?" Narinder asked. "Whom do you mean?"

"You know, him! Ah, um, that—the yellow cat! He was just here!" Leshy threw his hands up in exacerbation. Nothing else lay in the bed beside Leshy.

"Yellow...cat?" Narinder echoed. "Oh, the one I saw sneaking out of your shelter this morning? What was it, Cornelius, Cathleon, Consus? Something with a 'C,' anyway, I think. Or maybe a 'T'? Thornton? Thimothy? Mmm, I cannot remember. If you are bedding him, should you not know?"

He had a sneer in his voice that graded against Leshy's nerves. Leshy clenched his fists. He knew his brother was trying to make him mad—and it was working!

"Do not speak on matters that do not concern you," Leshy grumbled.

Narinder snorted a laugh. "He will be at the sermon. You can go and ask his name there." The shelter's canvas flapped as his brother left. "Or not. It does not matter to me."

Leshy bristled. He stood and his side felt suddenly cold as he recalled the yellow cat leaning against him in the night. He lashed his fist out, hitting the wooden wall in anger. If he ever became a god again, he was going to cull the cat population, or at least any that acted like his damned brother!

He swore under his breath as he headed towards the door. He threw open the canvas. The scent of rain still hung heavy in the air. The wet grass brushed droplets on his ankles and feet as he stepped out. The cult was alive with morning activity. The smell of cooking food made his stomach grumble.

He opened his mouth to shout for his brother when another voice cut him off.

"Mr. Leshy, you are awake!" The yellow cat chirped.

The scent of fresh bread and warm berry jam filled Leshy's nose as the yellow cat pressed a leaf bowl into his hands. "I got you something to eat, as thanks for letting me stay with you last night."

Leshy felt the skin under his leaves heat up at the kind gesture. Before he could answer the yellow cat, from beside his front door, Narinder called, "Why, good morning there."

"Oh, ah, um, good morning, Disciple Narinder," The yellow cat greeted with a touch of embarrassment in his tone.

Narinder chuckled darkly and a shiver crawled up Leshy's spine.

"You know, Leshy was just telling me," Narinder put his hand firmly on Leshy's shoulder and squeezed, "that he was so excited for you to escort him to the temple for the morning sermon."

Leshy started to snap, "I said n--" when he smelled the yeasty bread and sweet jam in his hands and stopped himself. He gritted his teeth. He didn't want to hear that vile creature spew lies and false promises about the afterlife, but, hadn't he decided allies would be useful last night?

He sighed. "I said...I would like to sit in the back. In case, it gets so boring I fall asleep."

Narinder patted his back while chuckling. Leshy whipped his head around in an attempt to take a bite out of his brother, but his teeth snapped against empty air.

With one last, victorious laugh, Narinder whispered in Leshy's ear, "Too easy." before he took his leave.

Leshy threw some of the jam-covered bread in his mouth and chewed loudly, annoyed that he walked right into Narinder's trap. Despite their thousand-year rift, his brother still knew him too well.

The yellow cat covered a laugh with a cough. "You two don't look alike, but I guess you two are really brothers, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately," Leshy muttered. He stepped backwards until his tail brushed the camilla plants around his shelter.

The yellow cat wandered closer to continue their conversation.

"I know he was putting words in your mouth," The yellow cat said. "You should go to the sermon, but I won't drag you if you don't want to go."

Leshy took another bite, chewing slowly as he thought. Finally, he swallowed and asked, "Why are you being so nice? What do you gain from it?"

"'Gain'?" He repeated. "I guess I'd be gaining a friend—and a friend who is an ex-god at that."

"An ex-god who put your god's throat to the blade," Leshy pointed out before he could think better of it.

"But they came back, so it doesn't matter, does it?"

Leshy nearly choked on his food. He had heard rumors that orange cats were as smart as a stack of rocks, but it seemed yellow ones didn't even have that.

The yellow cat patted his back as he coughed. Once he could breathe again, Leshy chuckled with a shake of the head. This cat was something else, and Leshy was starting to like whatever that something was. This cat was no Heket, of course, but he would not be so bad of a friend to have around.

Leshy finished up the last of his breakfast and started ripping up the leaf bowl.

"Well, Let us get this over with," he said, spewing half-chewed bread as he dropped the leaf pieces to the ground.

He held out his hand. When the yellow cat didn't take it, Leshy asked, "Are you going to lead me there or not?"

After a heartbeat, the yellow cat placed his palm against Leshy's, and the two headed toward the temple.

----

AN: This one-shot is dedicated to my cat, Morwen, whom I tripped over and is the reason I have a carpet burn scar on my knee months later. Love you, boo!

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝚅𝙸𝙸. 𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: POV switching, inherent power imbalance due to boss/employee dynamic, fucked up family relationships and drama, abusive relationships, tooth aching fluff, everyone is incredibly horny | WORD COUNT: 9k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: Life at home is the worst it's been in a long time, and you've never felt better.

Winter drags on in the wet, tedious sort of way that it does in Texas. Luckily for you, Joel Miller fills all those dull gaps with his own personal brand of sunshine. Morning kisses when he picks you up. Stopping somewhere to sit and have a morning coffee for 10 minutes and pulling faces when he tastes your overly sweetened caramel flavored drink. Sneaking kisses at the office when no one else is around. Sending flirtier and flirtier texts throughout the day until he comes to pick you up from the office and drives you home. 

It’s never been easy to shift from the nebulous bliss of being with him, but lately it’s even more challenging. It’s entirely possible the nature of your relationship advancing has created a stronger attachment and thus a stronger sense of loss when you have to part, but a large component of your misery whenever you have to say goodbye is the heavy, mercurial domestic picture that awaits your return every evening.

Kenzie continues to send texts, but you haven’t responded to any of them. You aren’t sure how to or if you even want to. Apologizing and making amends feels tempting and like the “obvious choice,” but you’ve grown sick and tired of placating and doing all the work to fix things in your relationships, especially when it always seems to be for someone who’s done wrong by you. So, you let it sit, and, before you know it, weeks of ghosting her fly by.

It’s not like you don’t have enough bullshit to deal with already. You do work full time, and when you get home it’s even more of a rotten environment than usual. Your dad has been on edge ever since Calum came to visit. He hadn’t spoken a word about it to you, although you had a feeling he was well aware that you knew exactly what had transpired. Instead of sitting with his own unpleasant feelings and thoughts in the aftermath, your dad had decided he’d rather distract himself from it with heavier drinking and lashing out at you.

Baskets of laundry flipped over because one shirt was “folded wrong.” Every plate in the house broken in half because you left the dishes in the sink from dinner one night. Holes punched into the hallway leading to your bedroom when his sports team lost a big match. Screaming at you until he was red in the face when you forgot to bring the mail in before it started raining.

It was the worst he’d been in a while, but something about Calum’s visit and Joel’s constant peripheral presence gave you the sort of resilience you’d long thought had been leached from you. There was nothing to do except ride this wave out and hope his wedding planning with Denise would start to serve as a distraction to shift focus away from you. She’d been overly eager to start outlining and scheduling right away, and you could tell it surprised your dad in a way that bordered on irritation.

But for now, you had to turn down Joel’s invitations to dinner at his house several times even though it shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces to have to tell him no. Worst of all was his unconditional, forgiving nature about it. You’d just say your dad was “strict” and “in bad moods” because of Calum’s visit. He’d tried pressing the subject once, but you shut it down immediately. It was bad enough having to deal with all this at home. When you were with Joel, you didn’t want to think about all that. Being with him was the only part of your life that wasn’t marred by your home life, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You wish you could tell him every day you’d love to stay for dinner and for bedtime and for all times. He’d mentioned how he “didn’t mean to keep buggin’ you about it” but that his house is quiet these days and he “misses the company.” He’d cringed at himself and laughed. “Christ, that sounds so fuckin’ pathetic.”

You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs how it made you feel warm and appreciated just to be wanted in his presence. To share his personal space with you like it was yours, too. How much you ached for him. How every time you had to say goodbye to him felt infinitely harder than the day before. 

You know you’ll get there eventually. Spending as much time as you please with him once you strike out on your own. Away from the toxic homelife keeping you from blooming into more than just a shell of your full potential. Separated enough from the dark cloud hanging around your head to understand how to speak freely and without fear of being abandoned. But, until then, you just have to take it day by day and keep reminding yourself there are good things on the horizon.

Eight times. You’d already turned him down eight times when he asked you to come have dinner with him at his house. Just something casual. No expectations. Just to enjoy each other for a little longer than the end of the work day. He’d only kept asking because you very clearly wanted to say yes. He wasn’t sure why you didn’t. Just another puzzle in the heaping pile of puzzles that already veiled you.

Your brother’s visit had revealed a few things, maybe more than you’d realized, but Joel hadn’t been successful in broaching that topic with you even though he’d tread so carefully in his approach. Your hackles were already raised when he inquired after your brother’s injuries and if they’d healed up. When Joel tried to be sly and ask the same of your father – a roundabout way of indirectly confirming he and Calum and gotten into that bad of a physical altercation – you’d briskly and coolly replied that “everyone was back to normal” and “thanks for asking.”

So, he left it at that, at least outwardly. Inwardly he’d begun to finally admit what’d been subconsciously festering for a while now: your dad was aggressive and volatile, past the point of somebody with a bad temper or an attitude problem. You’d never shown up with any physical indications that someone was hurting you, but Joel wasn’t stupid enough to think that external harm was the only type of mistreatment that could negatively impact someone, especially a parent to their child.

He wanted to get you away from your house as often as he could just because he didn’t know for certain you were truly safe there. If Calum had been on the receiving end of that, what sort of shit was coming your way? What did your dad deem necessary and appropriate when interacting with you? It was driving Joel insane with dread, but he focused his energy on what was within his control instead of worrying himself sick over everything else.

It’s why he’d started sending you goodnight texts that quickly turned into goodnight texts with pictures and sometimes goodnight texts with pictures and a phone call. Sometimes you’d share your screen with him – something he was completely unaware was possible and thus blown away by the concept – and pull up something on a streaming service app. You’d watch a show or part of a movie together and talk and laugh the whole way through.

It was a good way to spend time together, particularly since the opportunity for even moderate physical intimacy was practically nonexistent. Now that he’d had those small facets of you, that small taste of what he was missing, he was ravenous for everything that was you. Luckily for him, you never shied away from taking the lead on that.

10:28 p.m.

Your dad is passed out drunk by now. It should be safe to call Joel without any interruptions. You just hope he’s still awake. You were horny to the point of being antsy, and, while you weren’t sure exactly what it would entail, you knew a call to Joel would help things. The video call rings only a couple of times before his cheesy grin is taking up your screen.

“Hi, handsome,” you purr into your headphones.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greets in return. “You sittin’ in the dark again? Sure wish I could see more of you.”

You tap a low light lamp on your bedside table and dimly illuminate yourself for the call. For Joel.

“Pretty.”

“I, um, I guess I just wanted to call because I wasn’t ready to say goodnight yet,” you admit. 

“Me neither,” he says softly. “I’m glad you called. Love seeing your pretty face and hearin’ your voice.”

“What if there was… other stuff that was pretty to look at? And hear?” you propose in a throaty voice.

He perks up at the insinuation immediately. “Yeah? Whatcha got to show me, sweetheart?”

“I was just feeling sort of wound up, I guess, and I thought maybe you could, um, talk to me while I… you know.”

His lip twitches up, devilish and smug. “No idea what you mean. Gonna have to spell it out for me, I guess.”

You huff and roll your eyes, which just makes him chuckle. “When I came over that day and you were saying all that stuff to me, I really liked it. It, um, made me really wet. The stuff you were saying to me.”

Joel groans and tilts his head back. He gets closer to the camera like he can get a better look at you that way. “Yeah? Got you all wet talkin’ about how bad you need me to touch that soaked little pussy of yours?”

You let out a small gasp and nod vigorously. Your hand travels with a mind of its own below your clothes.

“Mmmmm, already touchin’ yourself? Take your panties off and spread out real wide for me.”

You comply and nearly tear your clothing with how forcefully you yank it down and off. You lay on your back and let gravity take your knees to the mattress on either side.

“Lemme see her.”

You hold the phone under the covers and angle it so your glistening arousal catches on the screen. For good measure you ghost a fingertip across your clit and over your entrance to spread the wetness and create more shiny contrast for Joel to gorge himself on.

“Put the other headphone down there,” he husks. “I wanna hear you touch yourself.”

You promptly pluck one of the earphones out and drop it between your legs. You give a test rub and triumph at how well the sound picks up. Joel notices as well and makes a strained throaty sound in response.

“Fuck yeah, that’s so good, sweetheart. Just like that is perfect.”

“Tell me what to do,” you breathe. You don’t want to think about anything. You don’t want to call the shots anymore. You want to hand it over to someone who will do all the decision making for you and turn you out the other side fully satisfied.

“You’re gonna take that finger and rub it right on that pretty little clit. Gonna write out on it who makes you get like this, all needy and wet. I want you to spell it out for me: j-o-e-l. Lemme see you spell it out for me, baby. Out loud so I can hear it.”

You whimper at the simplicity of it that somehow evokes so much command and control. It’s like he’s marking you as his territory without even being in the same room, and it makes the back of your neck prickle and sweat.

“J.”

His breathing is notably heavier as you begin spelling his name.

“O.”

“Nice and round. Just like that.”

“E.”

It’s hard to concentrate on keeping the phone angled so he can see everything, but you do your best.

“L.”

You let out a small sigh and relax your back into the mattress. “I put your name on me, but I know the real thing would’ve felt better,” you pout.

“Soon, okay? I promise real soon I’ll take care of you. For tonight we’re gonna make this work. You tell me what your favorite letter was to write on that pretty little clit of yours.”

“O and L felt really good.”

“Yeah? You do some O’s on it again while I get my cock out for you, okay? Got me fuckin’ hard as a rock over here listenin’ to ya.”

You do as he asks and rub small circles on your sensitive pearl. Your mouth goes a little dry watching him unzip his pants and pull his stiff length from his boxers. Your absentminded swirling grows faster when he grips it and eases vertically in smooth, slow tugs.

“You’re gonna go up and down now when you do L. Now watch me and see how fast I go, and you’re gonna go the same speed, okay?”

“Okay,” you quiver in excitement. 

You’ve never done anything like this before, and it’s exhilarating. You study his pace and mimic it on yourself. It’s a heady little exercise to watch him try not to rush, and everything feels like a warm fog around you as he picks up speed.

“Doin’ so good. Just like that. Look at how good you’re doin’ for me. Sound so pretty, too.”

It could be 5 minutes or 5 hours since you started. You’re so locked into following his tempo that time sort of softens and liquifies. The lewd sound of him spitting into his hand for lube takes you right up to the edge, and you tell him so.

“Hang on just a little longer, sweetheart. We’re gonna come at the same time. You just hang on a little longer,” he rasps. Your breathy panting and wet fingering sound loud in your ear, but you can still hear the slick drag of Joel’s fist as he jerks himself faster. His voice sounds ragged and pitched when he speaks now. “Okay, baby. You just – ah fuck – you just keep goin’ until you come for me. Make some pretty – christ – pretty sounds for me to come to, sweetheart. Give me those pretty sounds so I can come for you.”

“You’re gonna make me come,” you whine. 

“Keep goin’. Keep talkin’.”

“I’m thinking about if it was your hands instead of mine, and it’s gonna make me come.”

Joel doesn’t get another word in before the hot band in your lower belly snaps. You tuck your head sideways into your pillow to muffle your cries, which becomes much more difficult when you glance at your phone just in time to hear and see him moaning and shooting white ropes of spend. 

You stay quiet as you both come down from the intoxicating cloud of each other. You could drift off, peaceful and unaware, right then and there. Joel cleans himself up with some tissues, and, even in a nonsexual context, watching him hold and maneuver himself sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.

“You feel good? Feel better now?”

“Yes,” you hum, all loose and mellowed. “Thank you.”

“Should be thanking you. You’re the one that made the call.”

“Next time’s your turn then,” you titter.

“Next time it’s gonna be in person, and next time instead of your fingers playin’ with that pretty little clit it’s gonna be my tongue spelling it out on you.”

One thing to always be grateful for: Joel Miller doesn’t break his promises.

Some of the downright alarming things Joel has seen and learned about your life recently are apparently of no concern to you. Noticeably more buoyant and lighthearted, you were more touchy, more talkative, more relaxed over the past few weeks, and as much as he’d like to claim it all as his impact, Joel knew a huge factor in your sudden radiant ease was getting to see your brother for the first time in months. 

He seemed like a good kid if not a little guarded, but at this point that just seemed to be a familial trait. You’d divulged – or let slip – that he hadn’t texted in all the time he’d been away because your dad had cut off his phone line and left him virtually stranded, and he didn’t know your number to reach out once he got a new line. You’d tensed up immediately after sharing that tidbit, but Joel had known you long enough to understand when he needed to train his emotions and make no sudden reactions or expressions. It sounded a bit callous to respond with “sounds like a pain in the ass,” but it was a better choice than ranting about how your dad sounded like a complete piece of shit who didn’t even deserve the title of father.

You’d relaxed again when that’s all he responded with, and he added it to the growing list of reasons why he had to frequently talk himself out of confronting your dad about what the fuck his problem was and threatening him within an inch of his life if he ever, ever thought about treating you with an iota of the same energy he gave your brother.

And the way Calum had seemed so earnest when saying his goodbyes and declaring his appreciation for Joel’s protectiveness for you, his big brave kind strong sister. It felt like an unspoken moment of gratitude, something deeper and weightier than just what was being said. Between everything that had gone down in your house on New Year’s and whatever had happened New Year’s Eve with your friend, he was surprised if not relieved to see you doing so well. It felt a little selfish to so quickly embrace this burgeoning relationship with you, but he couldn’t deny it felt right more than anything.

And when your file came across his screen when he was double checking stubs for payday, it felt like a sign from the universe that he caught the tiny numbers next to your name that revealed a February birthdate. It was roughly a week and a half away, but that was enough time to plan something for you. He wasn’t sure if Calum would be coming to visit or if your friend from the store would be celebrating with you, so he decided to just go as big as he could without it feeling like too much – just to make sure you were getting the sort of fanfare you deserved without making you feel embarrassed or guilty for being prioritized.

Valentine’s Day was coming up, and he’d been panicking about whether or not he should do something for you. Of course he wanted to, but he wasn’t really sure what was fitting for whatever the two of you had. The last thing he wanted to do was make some big show of his feelings and send you running the opposite direction. Maybe one day you’d let him do that, though. He hoped, at least. He wanted nothing more than to learn every part of you so that he could praise it and show it the reverence he already felt.

He almost blows it a few days leading up to it when he asks if you have any plans for your big day. You skirt around the question, of course – something about not really being the “birthday type,” but he doesn’t believe that for a minute.

“Real believable comin’ from the girl who made me a lemonade cake for my birthday only a few months of knowing each other because she remembered that was the drink I got at her grocery store job every time,” he snorts.

You huff and hide a bittersweet smile. “It’s different when it’s somebody else.”

He nearly told you all the details of his surprise right then and there just so you could know that he saw you for you and wanted to celebrate ever being lucky enough to know you.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans, you care to indulge me with my little gift idea?”

Joel clocks the way you shoot him a dubious look, no doubt thinking back to the numerous Christmas presents he couldn’t help himself from giving you. It makes him feel a strange sense of pride knowing how much that had meant to you. Hopefully lightning could strike twice in the gifting department and this birthday could be as much of a success as Christmas had been.

“Yeah, because you famously do impersonal, thoughtless gifts,” you deadpan.

“Everybody has a different spectrum of gifting, okay?” he chortles. “So, you gonna be nice to me and let me take you somewhere?”

“I dunno. Depends on what you had in mind,” you tease.

He leaves out the finer details but tells you the date and the timeframe, and your face falls. “Oh. I can’t be out that late. My dad wouldn’t let me do that. Thanks for thinking about me, thou–”

“Just tell him you’re stayin’ at your friends like you were on New Year’s Eve. He doesn’t have to know you’re just around the corner.”

It’s a simple enough scheme, and your eyes light up. You know it makes sense, and, best of all, you know it could actually work. He’s relieved you didn’t take it as some loaded, suggestive offer because in all honesty he just wants this birthday idea to work out. If you get to stay in his house overnight again, that’s just the cherry on top. 

When he drops you off that evening, the kiss is long and tender. He's more determined than ever to make you see how much you deserve to be celebrated.

You’d been reserved to your loss of doing anything fun for your birthday with your and Kenzie’s falling out. Calum had sent a little text to say happy birthday earlier since he was going to be swamped with work on the actual day. But then Joel had stepped up – a tendency over the last several months that had now formed into a full blown habit of his – and informed you of some “simple, fun” idea he had to celebrate with you. It was a relief to know he hadn’t bought you a gift like he’d done at Christmas because you still hadn’t completely gotten over the weird feelings of guilt over it.

You had never been fond of surprises and had more than your fair share of bad ones in your lifetime to turn you off the concept entirely. But for Joel, you’d let him surprise you with something. He’d earned enough of your trust to have your blessing to do that. It sounded silly when put so simply – I trust you enough to let you spoil me – but it was genuinely how you felt. You knew there was nothing he expected in return, and you were going to try your best to accept the genuine gesture without any feelings of guilt or unease that you weren’t giving something back tenfold.

Accept the affection and attention from a person who solely wants to give them because they care about you. It was a difficult concept that didn't quite resonate in your mind yet, but you were trying.

Your dad had slowly given into the wedding planning with Denise. Her parents and sister had taken an interest in it as well as in him from what you could gather, and that meant it was time to pull out all the stops. Beguile and soft soap them all until they would never suspect the wolf in sheep’s clothing, would never think in a million years this was a man who would readily and without provocation put his hands on those weaker and smaller. Sometimes you felt sick to your stomach knowing what awaited Denise and her kids, but there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. You know even if you tried to warn her, she wouldn’t believe you.

You weren’t going to dwell on any of that tonight, though. A gift of grace from the universe left you in your house alone to get ready and pack an overnight bag. It also left your thoughts in overdrive trying to figure out where and what this “simple, fun” gift was going to be. Joel had said to wear something comfortable “but not like pajamas or anything.” It was as helpful as it was vague, so you opted for a comfortable t-shirt and some wide legged lounge pants that were probably pajama bottoms but whatever. 

Kenzie still had all your best pair of jeans at her house since you’d never gone back to get your stuff left behind. Her dress and tights as well as your bra and panties from that night were still somewhere floating around Joel’s house. You’d have to grab them tonight. Maybe you could mail her things back to her, and she’d return the favor.

Joel’s truck barely shifts into park before you’re bounding down the front steps and wrapping yourself around him.

“Hi, birthday girl,” he greets with a warm, tight hug.

“It’s technically not until two days from now.”

“Okay, then it’s a three day affair. Party starts tonight and doesn’t stop ‘til 12:01 the day after your birthday.”

You grin and giggle, planting a soft kiss on his chin and jaw. “What happened to ‘simple’?”

“Gotta adapt to the times, Pluck. Things change, and now we’re turnin’ this into a full blown event.”

You groan and shuffle to the passenger’s side where Joel cuts you off and opens it for you. He takes your bag and loads it up and doesn’t let you get out of the car when he drops it off at his house before heading out to the mystery location. It’s about 10 minutes of driving before you realize his energy has shifted into something uncertain and nervous.

“So, listen,” he starts and clears his throat. “Your birthday bein’ all close to Valentine’s Day — well, it sorta – it’s kinda ended up a little romantic themed, but I don’t mean for – I don’t want you to feel like it’s a — I don’t want you to feel pressured like it’s a date or anything, okay?”

You force down the pitched cackle that’s threatening to burst from your chest. That is what he’s so worried about? That it might be too romantic? That it might be so thoughtful and tender-hearted that it was unmistakably intimate?

“Well what if I wanted it to be a date?  What then?”

His head practically turns off its axis with how fast it whips your direction. He’s never looked so excited and jubilant in all the time you’ve known him.

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you giggle. “So, is it a date?”

“I guess it’s a date then, sweetheart.” His cheeks go round and flushed with delight as he beams.

You faintly recognize the shopping center that the truck just passed, but you can’t remember what all is out this way. You’re in the parking lot of the “fancy cinema” before you recognize where Joel is taking you.

“Alright, birthday girl. We’re gonna go inside and get some popcorn and whatever else, and then we’re gonna go grab our seats,” he informs you brightly.

“We’re gonna go see a movie? What are we gonna go see?” You’re excited to know what kind of movie Joel picked out for you.

“Well, not just one movie. It’s a special double feature with an intermission in between and everything. Figured we’d make a whole night of it since this is the Year of Movies for you.”

“Really?” you squeak.

“Yep. They’re a little older, but they’re good. I’ve seen both of them, but it’s been a long time. Pillow Talk is first and then it’s Some Like It Hot for the second one. I think it’s about an hour and a half for the first one and then a little break before the second one, which I think the site said is a little over two hours runtime.”

“This is amazing,” you gasp. “I didn’t even know we had something like this around here.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“You weren’t even joking when you said this was going to be a whole event. This is so… I can’t even believe— I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m so excited! Thank you, baby!” you gush.

You lean across the seat and draw him into a brisk, intense kiss. You pull away and plant several pointed pecks on his cheeks and jaw and chin for good measure.

“You called me baby,” he notes in a soft, low voice. “You’ve never called me anything but my name before.”

“Oh, is that okay? I didn’t even realize I said that.”

“I liked it,” he admits sheepishly.

“Well, baby, let’s get outta this car before we miss our double feature,” you croon.

He chuckles a little and kisses your cheek before hopping out of the truck and coming around to your side to open your door for you. It’s almost dizzying how floaty you feel walking next to him. There was something about just being out and about with him like this so publicly, how freely and easily he wrapped his arm around you, and you don’t even care if you run into somebody you know. A fellow Miller Construction employee, an old coworker from the grocery store, or even your dad. It felt like it didn’t matter if someone saw you. It didn’t matter whether their reaction would be friendly or hostile or favorable or neutral or dismissive. It didn’t matter because Joel was with you, and, even if you couldn’t exactly say how, you just know down to your bones that he would face it head on and handle it for you both, no questions asked.

There’s a sort of implied promise of safeguarding with Joel that makes your brain feel quiet and sharp, like it can fully receive information and expunge all the burdensome, defunct neural pathways that were forged in all the years of stress and loss and fear you experienced prior to knowing him. Mental faculties refreshed and favoring clean new circuitry that optimized your well-being and happiness.

You sip on the bubbly, bright Coke he got for you to share as he grips a comically large bucket of popcorn in one hand and various sweets in the other. This place is like no theater you’ve ever seen before, and you start to wonder if this actually was a super expensive gift after all. When you see the dual pod reclining seats and swiveling side tables, you know without a doubt this costs way more than your average movie date night.

There are a handful of middle aged couples dotted throughout the gorgeous theater space, but it’s mostly older couples filling the seats. You’re the youngest person in the room by a longshot. When you locate your seats, Joel pauses and looks over the middle armrest separating the seats. You wordlessly lean forward and push it back, making for one large space without any barriers.

You get situated in your seats and play with all the buttons to see what they do. Joel watches on, amused and smiley, and nibbles on popcorn. You finally settle on partially reclining for both of you so you can still snack. The lights flicker and dim, and the first film starts.

“Can we cuddle?” you whisper.

He grins ear to ear and answers by way of wrapping an arm around you and pulling you snug into his side, his other hand coming to rest on top of yours in your lap. He kisses your temple and takes the pieces of popcorn you feed to him.

The movie is funny and silly even if you don’t entirely understand all the references and older technology mentioned and used. By how mellow and cuddly you both are, you’d think that was your hundredth time having an evening out like this. There was something familiar and comforting about being with Joel, and the lack of pressure or nerves about it all the entire time had you thinking Pillow Talk might just end up being your favorite movie after this because how could you not be biased now that it was associated with something so lovely?

You both get up to stretch and use the bathroom during intermission. Joel finishes first because for some reason there’s never a line in the men’s room, but he’s waiting in the hallway for you when you get out. He wraps you into a tight hug and kisses on you before walking you back to the theater. This feels like the soft launch of your relationship, and it’s hard to not get ahead of yourself with what it meant and why and how it already felt so fucking good and right.

The second movie is another lighthearted feature with solid comedic elements. You burrow and snuggle into Joel’s side this time around, hand rubbing gently across the little pouch of his belly that’s overfilled with popcorn and soda and small chocolate candies. His thumb traces your arm in gentle lines, and you can feel his whole chest vibrate when he laughs. You can’t help but look up at him a few times with a mawkish grin, which he uses as an excuse to dip his head down to kiss you.

Despite the literal hours and hours of movies you’d just sat through, you don’t feel tired in the slightest. Raw energy emanates from you, and you know Joel must feel it, too. You spend the drive back to his house thanking him roughly a million times for such a wonderful birthday and perfect gift. He basks in the influx of positive feedback and appreciation, so you make sure to lay it on as thick as he’ll tolerate.

He’s got a bounce in his step as he walks around to get your door for you. You don’t make it all the way inside his house before you’re already asking if you can stay in his bed with him tonight instead of the guest bedroom like you’d planned.

“Of course,” he huffs in disbelief. “If I ever say no to somethin’ like that, haul my ass to the doctor because somethin’ would be seriously wrong with me.”

He carries your bag upstairs for you, and your chest pounds with errant heartbeats as you pass the guest room and head for his bedroom. You creep up behind him and run your hands over his hips and towards his groin.

“I’m not really tired,” you say soft and suggestively.

“No? You need somethin’ to help get you all relaxed so you sleep?” he returns, none too intent on hiding the darkened want dripping from his words now.

“Kinda wanted to see your dick again,” you hum. “Feel it in my hand again.”

“Oh?” He turns his head sideways to gauge your unexpected admission. 

You nod firmly and rub your palm over where his pants have tented and are now straining against his hardening bulge. “Can’t stop thinking about it.”

That much was true. Perhaps a burning curiosity now that you had a male partner, you’d begun imagining all the things you could learn to make him feel good, to touch him in just the right way that makes him cry out for you louder than any other partner he’s had in the past. You might’ve rubbed his name all over yourself at his instruction, but he wasn’t the only one with a possessive side.

“Maybe we could get undressed for bed, and…” you trail off and shrug.

He turns around completely to face you and crowds your body. “Just said you weren’t tired,” he points out cheekily.

“Beds aren’t just for sleeping.”

He concedes to that and runs his hands under the hem of your shirt, pausing for a moment for you to give him the go ahead, and gently pushes it up until it’s over your head and forgotten on the floor. He repeats the action on himself and focuses his attention to undoing your bralette.

“This okay?” he checks.

“Yes,” you say firmly so he knows you want it, no doubts and no hesitation.

He continues on like this - an item of clothing off you followed by the same item of clothing off him - until you’re both bare. You can’t decide what you want to touch first and more of, so your hands just end up traversing his body in frantic little passes. He’s much more methodical – and proficient – when it comes to you. Teasing his thumbs across your hardened nipples, cupping your ass in his warm palm and squeezing it, nosing at your temple, neck, and ears.

You settle onto the bed together, and his deliberate exploration of your body has your mind going blank. He pairs sensual caresses with attentive kneading, and the combination has your entire body feeling like a willow tree in the wind. Before you can’t think of anything other than what he’s doing to you, you prop yourself up and bid for his attention.

“Can I put it in my mouth?” you ask softly.

“Yeah? That what you want?” he groans. “ You wanna taste your first cock, sweetheart?”

“Mmmhhhhhmmmm, yes. Can I?”

“Okay, go ahead.” He lays back and cups your face, tenderly caressing it for a moment, and looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “It’s all for you.”

The assertion that his patent arousal and carte blanche invitation was all yours sent an intoxicating, simmering thrill through you. It’s just the sort of endorsement you need to delve into this new sort of sexual experience and not be so in your head about it. You shimmy down, planting chaste little kisses along his chest as you work your way to his stiff length, and let yourself pause at the thicket of coarse hairs surrounding the base. You breathe in the scent of him – a concentrated, earthier smell of his usual aroma – and gently run your fingers from base to tip.

You look up at him and feel a rush of power when you see his face already warping into a pleasured frown and pinched brow. You hold his gaze and draw tiny kitten licks all the way up to his cockhead. His breath hitches when you lick at the topmost portion of the underside, so you do it again. He can’t look away as you round out your lips and slowly sink them over his tip before just as slowly drawing them back up with a little bit of suction. 

You can already tell you’re not going to be able to fit much of him into your mouth. Maybe with a little practice and just getting used to the sensation, but not a viable option today. You work the rest of what you can’t fit into your mouth with your hand and switch out suckling his tip with messily tonguing at it and the slit. You soak in the small sounds of surrender he’s making and try to just let your instinct guide you to make him feel good.

“Look so pretty,” he husks. “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

You could try to save face and lie, but it didn’t feel right to do that. It was feeling less and less right to ever not be completely honest with Joel. “I know I’m supposed to inflate your ego by saying how big you are, but you’re actually — like, you really are big, Joel,” you point out a little bluntly. “How the hell do people do this and not have their jaw hurt the rest of the day?”

He laughs under his breath and brushes some stray hair away from your eyes. “S’okay, sweetheart. You just show me your best. Just wanna see those lips wrapped around it. Don’t gotta take all of it at once.” You nod, and he grins like an imp. “Not today, at least.”

He’s teasing, of course, but for some reason it makes you want to learn how to take him to the hilt. You flatten your tongue and take him down until your gag reflex threatens to go off. Your eyes are watering by the third time, but you don’t look away from Joel.

“Christ, you can’t look at me like that when I’m in your mouth,” he groans. “Gonna make me come way too fast lookin’ up at me like that.”

“Like what?” you breathe, a little teasing and a little turned on by his admission.

“Like you–christ– like you wanna tell me thank you just for lettin’ you suck it.”

“Like I really, really like it?” you tease. “Like it’s all I’ve been thinking about doing since I first saw how hard you get for me?”

His brow pulls in a pained sort of bliss, eyes squeezing shut for a moment. You take him in your hand slowly while you talk.

“Because I have. I’ve been thinking about touching it. And licking it.” You accentuate your words with a flit of your tongue around the slit. His eager responsiveness to your talking gives you the confidence to keep going. 

“Thought about how big it’s gonna feel inside me but I don’t even care. I just want you to fill me up with it and stretch me out on it. I know you’ll make it feel so good for me.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Ah, fuck, I would make that tight little pussy feel so good takin’ my cock, baby.”

You moan and mouth at the underside of his cockhead, letting the fat tip of him smear and bob across your lower face. You think he might just enjoy seeing how messy and uninhibited you get when you’re lost in the buzz of sucking him off.

“You’re so warm and hard. Feels so nice in my hand. I wanna know what it’s gonna feel like to have it inside me,” you say, sounding a little out of breath and needy. “I get wet sometimes just thinking about it, ever since I watched you on the couch that first time. I wanted to know what you tasted like after you were done and it got all over our hands.”

“Christ you gotta—” he grits. His hands are clenched into fists on either side of him, bunched up fabric caught up in his grasp. “Since when have you had a mouth like this on you? Jesus fuckin’ christ.”

“I like you watching me. I like you seeing how much I want this. You taste so good.” You spit loudly onto his cock and mouth at his balls for good measure but decide to pull away from them when the sensitivity and movement of them are a little too foreign for you to feel confident focusing on when he’s this close to climaxing. You flatten out your tongue and run it up and down his length while you work his tip in wet circles with a strong turn of your wrist.

“Thank you for letting me suck your cock, Joel,” you murmur in a syrupy, coy tone. You bat your eyes for good measure and continue getting as much slobber as you can onto him so the noises are louder and louder with each suck or tug.

“Ohhh ffucckkkkkk.” He’s writhing and panting, and you want to give him that final push to where he can’t hold back any longer.

“I want you to fuck me raw so I can feel you come inside me,” you moan. “I wanna feel your cum drip out of me, baby.”

 His eyes snap to yours, and then his whole face is pulling and contorting as you lick and suckle along the underside of his cock. Hot ropes of his seed splash onto your face, but you keep your mouth open as wide as it will go so you can wiggle your tongue side to side on him. He’s making the most incredible sounds you’ve ever heard, and it resets something in your brain. You know you want to hear those same exact sounds as many times as humanly possible. 

“Wow,” you breathe when he finally starts to come down. “That was incredible.”

“God dammit I didn’t mean to come that quick,” he hisses. “Snuck up on me. You’re a damn devil in angel’s clothing, holy shit. Talkin’ like that and lookin’ at me like that.”

His flushing is attributable to his release, but you also recognize a delightful little nugget: he’s slightly abashed at orgasming so quickly.  When he’s walking back from the bathroom with some hand towels to clean you up, you catch him muttering to himself about get a fuckin’ grip, Joel. Considering this was your first attempt at a blowjob, you are admittedly proud of how fast he unraveled.

“Well look who’s pleased as punch,” he snorts. “Over there with that shit eating grin.”

You giggle and cover your face but don’t deny you’ve got a sense of pride at making him come so easily. He playfully pulls you to the end of the bed, and you squeal in surprise and delight. “Yeah, real proud of yourself now, but we’ll see who’s laughin’ when I get back to business down there,” he laughs.

He gently wipes your face clean of his spend and huffs a laugh when you’re lying there beaming up at him.

“You sure you never done that before?”

“Positive,” you chirp. “But I’m glad that out of anybody it was you.”

“Now you’re just tryna soothe my bruised ego,” he chuckles.

“No, I mean it. And… I mean, if there was other stuff we could do that was new for me… I wouldn’t say no to that,” you extend. You roll your hips against him and relish the stifled groan that vibrates through his chest.

“Well, coupla things gettin’ in the way of takin’ it there,” he says after a beat, like he’s trying to let you down gently.

You deflate a little at the rejection, now feeling a tinge of embarrassment yourself, until he clarifies that it’s nothing to do with not wanting it.

“First off, I just came. A lot. So, with guys it’s different. It takes a while to, uh, ‘get operable again’, if you know what I mean,” he explains.

“Oh, I– Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

He’s waving your apology off and continuing on before you can expose just how inexperienced you are with men. The last thing you want to do is come across as naive and incompatible with him. “Trust me, if it was up to me, I’d already have your legs thrown over my shoulder and be drilling down into you, sweetheart.”

Your lips part slightly at the mental image, and he grins knowingly.

“And then there’s also the fact that I don’t have any protection, but I can, you know, I can pick some up soon if you’re feeling like — if you’re sure you’re ready for that. No rush at all, though. There’s no pressure, okay?”

“I want to,” you insist.

His expression is tender and amused with an edge of sleepiness. “Okay, sweetheart. Then we will,” he promises. “I’ll pick some up soon, and we’ll take that step.”

“Okay,” you pout. 

“Lemme make it up to you in the meantime,” he suggests, crawling into bed with you and running a hang up your inner thigh and making you gasp.

He takes you apart in his mouth, spelling out his name just like he promised, and it’s him you dream about that night when you’re curled up into the swell of his broad chest.

Something hard and insistent prods at your thighs and finally stirs you awake. The sun hasn’t come up all the way yet. The heavy scent of Joel fills your nostrils when you take a deep breath. Sleeping next to him in his room was ecstasy on an entirely different level, a rehabilitation for your nervous system if there ever was one. You’re very much awake now when you realize just what it is that you’re feeling pressed against you.

You stay on your side as you were when you woke, but you turn your head enough to see the gentle rise and fall of Joel’s chest. He was still knocked out with no indication that he’d be conscious any time soon. He’s not on his side, but he is angled towards you enough that his hardon continues to make direct contact. You turn in nimble, measured movements so as to not disturb him until you’re facing him completely. Your eyes are drawn to the hefty length of him, thick and resting on his thigh.

You reach a hand down and curl around it with featherlight touch. He shifts slightly but doesn’t wake. You get a firm hold and give an experimental stroke. This garners a stronger, definitive response. His forehead and eyebrows twitch and wiggle, mouth drifting open a little and making small, silent shapes. Heartened by the effect you have over him, you stroke a little faster and study his face for any changes. 

He lets out a soft grunt and subconsciously ruts towards the friction. He’s got a sour little shape to his mouth now as he becomes half-conscious of his surroundings and fully hard.

“Mmmmmm, what’reyoudoin’?” He sounds groggy, voice thick with sleep and dazed arousal.

“Woke up to it,” you whisper throatily. “Looked like it needed a little attention.”

He sighs and opens his eyes, and they twinkle back at you with something challenging and playful. “You decided to give a helpin’ hand, huh?”

“Hand. Mouth. I’ll give you whatever you want,” you murmur.

“Missin’ a couple orifices for that list to be complete,” he chuckles. His eyes are resting shut, still not entirely awake for the day, but a big grin spreads on his mouth. That is, until you say to hell with it and resort to begging.

“Can you fuck me without a condom? Just once? Please? I wanna feel you so bad. Please, Joel. Please.”

His eyes are wide open now and darkened by your shameless appeal. “We really shouldn’t��..” Even he doesn’t sound convinced. 

“I won’t ask again,” you promise, doing your best to not sound too let down. “Sorry. I just keep thinking about it.”

He studies your face for a moment, and the flicker of a decision dances on his own. “Maybe just once. Right? Just for your birthday. Just a little gift for your birthday, just this once, okay?” he rambles, sounding eager in the way his voice pitches up the longer he speaks. You nod, a yes yes yes whispered, and resume stroking his now leaky cock.

He’s quickly between your legs and making out with your pussy. It’s only been a handful of times, but he works you like he already knows every little spot you like and every little tell you have. You come when he adds a second finger. He wipes his glistening mouth and chin on the sheets and crawls back up your body like a cat on the prowl.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Yes, please. I can’t wait any more. Please.”

He notches himself at your entrance and holds your eye as he begins pushing inside. You’d expected more of a painful sensation, but it doesn’t go past slight discomfort and stinging as you adjust. Joel looks worse for wear as he tries to keep a level head and not go too fast.

God you feel so good and so warm and fuckin’ soft and fuckin’ chokin’ me spill from his lips as he feeds you his cock inch by inch until he’s fully seated inside you. You whimper at the stretch and fullness, clawing at him to hold you closer while your body accommodates him. He obliges and cradles you against him. It’s overwhelming in the best of ways feeling him above you, inside you, all around you.

He slips a finger between your legs to work your clit and help you fully relax around him, and you’re both caught off guard when the simple motion elicits an orgasm. You’re making insane noises, you’re sure of it, but you don’t care. The sensation of clamping down onto him is otherworldly. He himself is making little grunting noises of effort – to not move or to not come, you’re not sure.

The spasming begins to subside, but you can’t stop whimpering. It only worsens when Joel starts to shift his hips and gently fuck into you. Your head snaps back the first time the drag of his cock gets plunged all the way back inside you.

“Feels good, huh? Comin’ all over me just from a little touch. Coming just because you’ve got this fat cock in you, huh?” he goads. “You gonna choke my cock again, sweetheart? Gonna come all over this cock again once I start fucking you just how you wanted?”

You speak, but it’s mostly just babbled whines. You tilt your hips slightly and cry out when the change of position gives him an open range of motion.

“There you go, there you go,” he rambles. “Takin’ it raw, aren’t you? Didn’t want anything else for your birthday, did you? Just wanted to open up this cock and have me shove it into this tight fuckin’ pussy. Never had a cock before and now she can’t get enough.”

He bends his head and latches onto a peaked nipple, and you’re gone. Your entire body seizes up with the force of your climax, and you swear your vision goes flat for half a second. Joel fights against the drowning clutch and pull of your cunt as he hastily pulls out and finishes on your mound with a gravelly moan.

By the time you both regain enough energy to speak, the sun is fully in the morning sky. Joel convinces you to get up so you can shower together and eat breakfast. He tends to you every step of the way of your blissful morning together.

Yeah, you could get used to this.

tagging:

@thethirstwivesclub @cumberpegg @survivingandenduring @windsweptarmadillo @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu

@bizarrelove-triangle @doblasftcisco @canteenee4 @koshkaj-blog @sunandmuun

@janaispunk @halfpastgrace @toomanystoriessolittletime @pastelpinkflowerlife @bonezone44

@pastelnap @ellenmunn @sherrycherry03-blog @confusedpuffin @reneerocks3617

@r3dheadedwitch @fishingforpike @zooty-and-fruity @drunk-and-capable @umnitsa

@jupiter-soups @heartstoptrying @beelzebeth87 @copperhalfcent @gay4magnetobutfanfiction

@ficrecreblo @witchy-and-persnickity @lyuir @indiegirlunited

[skrrts]

heart art & rain (drabble)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, dating ✧ word count: 774

You surprise Hongjoong with a cake & chalk hearts to celebrate your first anniversary together.

a/n: another part of me practicing to write under 1k words. today's suggestion was "hj & anniversary fluff." hope you like it 💕

As a child, your teachers would scold you for covering your school papers with little hearts and stars, but now as an adult, you looked proudly at the perfectly shaped twelve chalk hearts you had spent the last thirty minutes drawing. Each one symbolized a month you shared with Hongjoong since the two of you started dating — a big deal for you.

He didn’t know you were about to pick him up from his private lessons. Officially, the two of you planned to meet at the park to look the local cherry blossoms together and buy some snacks on the way. You checked the time again and pulled out the box with the little cake you baked with the help of your mom. It was decorated with hearts, a ‘happy first anniversary,’ and a squirrel made of marzipan.

When you sent Mingi a photo, he teased you that it looked more like a dog, but you were confident your boyfriend would know.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your racing heart because this was a little sappy, and you couldn’t change but feel embarrassed. It didn’t help that a woman came out first, giving you a frown before she walked off to her car.

A few minutes passed, and you stood there somewhat lost with your cake before finally, the guy who stole your heart stepped out.

“Surprise,” you called, holding the cake more forward.

Hongjoong stood there, confused for a moment, but as always, it quickly changed to excitement and surprise as he walked over to you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the park?” he chuckled, his eyes looking fondly at you before paying attention to the hearts on the street and your cake.

It wasn’t a secret that cooking wasn’t something you enjoyed; spending time baking was likely proof of your love.

“You are so cute, you know! I’d love to take a photo, but you will pout at me, won’t you?” Hongjoong teased, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, because you will post it in your friend group chats, and that’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled a little.

“I just like to make them jealous; nothing wrong with bragging about how cute and amazing my significant other is.”

It was hard to resist him with that excited smile that never failed to get to you, and you carefully handed the cake to him.

“Mom helped me a little, no reason to brag there, but we went with your favorite flavors and all of that! I brought forks too; we can eat it under the cherry trees.”

Hongjoong, a born artist, carefully moved the cake in his hands, and you could feel how you got a little nervous, but after a moment he nodded.

“Let’s hope there won’t be any angry squirrels; they might be confused why I eat one of theirs. This looks quite like the one I met the other day there."

You chuckled and shook your head as you placed the cake back into the box and looked at him. “I am sure they would understand.”

Hongjoong rested his hand against your cheek. “I am sure they will. Maybe they are more jealous than scared. How many people get hearts and a cake for their first anniversary? Even more so since you are all mine, best gift ever..”

Now there was his teasing grin, and he pulled you closer.

“I loved this surprise, thank you, Y/N. In six months, it’s my turn. I promise I’ll make it something special.”

As you were about to kiss, drops of rain suddenly fell from the sky. They didn’t announce that change in the weather at all. So mean! Couldn’t it have waited just a few more hours?

You looked with disappointment as your hearts were washed away, but suddenly, an umbrella opened over your head, and Hongjoong smiled at you.

“Sounds like you finally get an excuse today to cling tightly to my arm while we go for a romantic walk — just the two of us, a little bit of rain, and cherry blossoms. We will definitely look better than all those people on the TV.”

“I love the sound of that,” you smiled and curled your arms around him, making sure your bag was tucked underneath the umbrella. Hongjoong kissed your lips for a moment before the two of you walked down the road leading to the park.

And while everyone was rushing, trying to escape the rain, the two of you took all the time in the world, in your little bubble where a little bit of rain was more enjoyable than annoying.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — WOLFWOOD x FEM READER

You thought you'd be the one taking care of the stray you picked up off the streets, not the other way around.

wc — 3.6k

tags — fluff, dog boy/werewolf/shapeshifter au I guess, whatever you want to call it, “you become responsible forever for what you have tamed” but it goes both ways, animal abuse mention (non graphic and not from reader), shoujo manga vibes, title from runaway by Aurora

There’s a mangy old stray on your block. You’ve seen the kids chase him off with sticks too many times not to want to do something about it, no matter how your mother used to scold you for your bleeding heart. 

“It’ll get you hurt someday,” echoes now in your ears as the cashier rings up your dog food, both wet and dry. You’re not sure which he’d - it seems like a he - would prefer.

$12.97 is your total. Not a bad price to pay for a life. 

Only a gentle kind of revolt, more teasing than genuinely angry, remains in your mind as the first drops of rain land on your face. It was a light mist, barely enough to dampen the sweet smelling air. The wet haze pulled blurry rainbows across the clear summer sky, enough to put a hop in your step as you hurried back to your apartment. 

There are no children today, and the neighborhood is quiet. A half dug hole by the adjacent apartment’s peonies tells you that your target is either nearby or at least recently in town. You unpack your bag, setting out a trap in the form of a can of wet food. 

Something skulks in the periphery of your vision. Trying not to startle him, you peek at the shadow out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t know dogs grew to be this big. 

When you really look at him, your stray seems more wolf than dog. He’d be nearly as large as as a human if he stood up on his back paws. Hiding beneath the trees where he thinks you can’t see him, he’s tense and untrusting. 

It’s strange for you to think of yourself as capable of making anyone nervous, much less someone as big as he is. You take a step back.

He edges forward, then flees into the shadows again. He’s hesitant. His paws skitter across the grass, beating a fast and unsteady tempo that reveals how nervous he is. It’s obvious that he won’t come out to eat as long as you’re here. That’s fine.

Trust can be earned. 

From your apartment’s windows, you watch him gulp down the food. He’s so clearly famished that he doesn’t even pause to breathe between bites, leaving you almost afraid that he’ll choke. When he’s finished, he lies down by his bowl, his eyes glittering.

He’s not asleep - he’s too wary a creature for that, but it’s relieving to see him relaxed and sated. He dozes like that for a minute or two before he lifts himself back up on weary paws to trot back into the woods. 

You’ve tried to make it a routine to feed him after work, stopping by the pet store to pick up different flavors you think he’d like to try. Neon stickers pop out at you from various tags on the shelves, promising to boost muscle growth or improve bone strength.

In the end, you get them all. When all you do is work, you don’t worry about blowing your money on things like this. You have nothing else to spend it on - might as well spoil him. It’s nice to be able to take care of someone else.

It might be all in your head, but you think he’s starting to warm up to you. He still waits until you’re gone to eat, but it’s easier to keep tabs on him now. You don’t think it’s an accident.

Sneaking a glance out of the corner of your eye, you can spot the telltale signs that he was waiting. Sometimes you even find him waiting for your car to pull in. 

Today, you find him at the end of your driveway, his tail thumping against the pavement. He’s in a good mood, it seems. When you park, he even gives a short howl.

He still retreats when you climb out of the driver’s side, only inching forward when you rustle your plastic bag of groceries at him. You crack the lid and set it down slightly in front of you to wait it out. 

You’ve been trying to get him used to your presence so you can take him to the vet. It’s a slow process - some days he’s more amenable to your presence than others. 

It takes a minute or two for him to consider if it’s worth it, if you’ll hurt him. Eventually, he slinks forward, his body low to the ground. 

You smile at him encouragingly as you wait, crouched down to be on the same level as him. He’s a big dog, probably almost the same height as you sitting down. He pauses in front of the food and sniffs cautiously. Then, he passes it. 

Your heart drops. Maybe he didn’t like it. Had you picked wrong? He’s eaten everything you gave him before - you didn’t think he was picky. 

He comes right up to you, his hot breath gusting over your hand. Suddenly you realize that this is a predator. He might be feral or have rabies. After everything, you realize you don’t really know him.

Animals aren’t like humans. You’ve assigned a wild beast your own moral complications and assumptions. Perhaps it’s hungry enough to want to eat you. 

He’s close enough that you can feel the warm weight of his body against your shins. Something fuzzy bumps into your hand insistently until you lift it. You realize that he’s asking to be pet and with trembling fingers, you do. 

Your fingers stroke over his head and ears, growing surer with the way he’s pushing back against you. It tickles just a little, enough to make you giggle until he shoves his snout right into your palm. His nose is cold and wet. 

“Go on,” you encourage, trying to nudge him towards the bowl. No matter how nice his fur feels, there’s something heartbreaking about watching him choose love over food. 

“You need to eat,” you scold. He sneezes in a way that makes him shake all over. If he wasn’t a dog, you’d think he was smiling at you. He only takes a mouthful when you reach out to resume petting him. He seems to like it when you scratch right behind his ears. 

You almost feel like you’ve formed a bond until he stops right at the boundary of your home and refuses to walk any further. You had thought you were getting along so well, too. 

“Come on,” you coax. “Here, boy. There’s nothing to be scared of.” 

He skitters back anyways, circling your property with a low, mournful howl before he trots back towards the perimeter. 

Progress is progress, you try to remind yourself, however disappointed you are. 

Sometimes, it feels like you’re not making any at all. There are days where you can’t even watch him eat, not knowing if he’s alright until the next time you find an empty bowl. Your fears are only alleviated by the moments where he lets you pet him or waits for you, a reminder that you are earning his trust. 

It may be a slow process, but he is becoming more comfortable with you, little by little.

Now it worries you when you can’t find him sitting in his usual spot, wary but excited. He doesn’t come even when you peel back the lid of the can noisily, the metal crumpling easily in your hand. You can’t help your anxieties from multiplying, though logically you know that he’s probably just off doing whatever dogs do in their free time.

You’re already halfway up the walkway to your house when you turn back. You can’t go inside without knowing he’s safe. A quick lap around the neighborhood reveals nothing. You’re checking behind bushes and cars when you hear the first faint whimper. 

Frantically, you push the leaves aside until you find him huddling in the center of a rose bush. He’s curled up on himself, as small as he could possibly be. His tail is tucked under his nose. 

Your hands are pricked with thousands of little needles as you keep digging for him. You can’t imagine how much worse it would be for him. This could only have been his last resort. Something worse had chased him here. 

He wags his tail when he sees you, barely able to lift his head. Seeing him struggle, you can’t help yourself. You push the branches aside to help him drag himself out, his body battered. Those kids again. 

“Come on, baby,” you coo, stroking his matted fur as you pick him up in your arms. He’s not as heavy as he should be, starved as he is. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll take care of you.” 

It was settled before you could decide it for yourself. He’s your responsibility now. There was never a choice in it. 

Dr. Rem’s assistant comes out to fetch you less than five minutes into the check up. “I think you should stay,” he says, his tone just cool enough to sound a touch annoyed. 

Your overgrown puppy won’t submit to her ministrations unless you’re in the room with him, stroking his ears and promising that everything will be alright. He must’ve been a pet at some point, to know what needles are and have such a reaction to them. To know that despite the initial pinch, it’s okay as long as you’re being pet. 

When it’s finally over, both of you are exhausted, but Dr. Rem is as professional as ever as she walks you through the care routine for his treatments. “Honestly,” she says, shaking her head. “I don’t understand how some people can be so cruel.” 

You don’t either, but it doesn’t matter. He’s yours now, and you’ll never let anything touch him again. 

“Does he have a name?” Dr. Rem’s incredibly blonde assistant asks as he’s filling out your release forms. 

“I’ve just been calling him dog,” you admit bashfully. 

He doesn’t need to speak. His expression says it all. Unbelievable.

You take a look at the creature you’ve decided to bring home. He does look more like a wolf than a dog. You’ve always thought so. “Wolfwood?”

“What a weird - ahem, interesting - name for a dog,” Nai, from his name tag, says. 

By your feet, Wolfwood wags his tail in agreement. 

“Wolfie?”

His tail wags harder. He pauses. It wags again. He turns around and nips at it, like he’s trying to hide the fact that he might like the nickname.

When you try to carry him from the car into your home, he clambers stiffly to his feet like an old man. You have to hide your laugh behind a couch. For some reason, he seems more human than animal. You’ve caught him noticing things no normal dog would, and you’re sure his pride would be injured. 

The sound his nails clicking across the floor is strangely comforting, like ASMR. You’ve heard that dogs are naturally helpful to lower cortisol and reduce stress, but you’ve never thought you’d experience those effects. You lean down to stroke a hand over his furry coat, carefully avoiding the spots where he’s still hurt. 

When it’s bedtime, you’ve resolved to give him the comfort of your bed and take the couch, but he’s not having any of that. His jaw snaps around the hem of your shirt, teeth digging into the fabric to prevent you from leaving. Immediately, you stop moving, afraid to hurt him worse. 

“Calm down,” you say gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He barks in discontent. He really does seem human, as if he understood you. 

Out of options, you resign yourself to curling up on the bed next to him, hoping you won’t accidentally roll over him in your sleep. Maybe you should invest in one of those bed dividers they use for small children. It’s the last thought in your head before you drift off. 

A deep, reverberating sound wakes you up. You roll over with the pillow shoved on top of your head to try to get some peace, but it continues. Fed up, you finally rise out of your comfortable sheets, ready to give whichever neighbor that’s decided sunrise was a great time to mow their lawn a piece of your mind. 

Instead, you’re greeted with a strange man in your bed. Your scream is cut short by his hand clapping over your mouth as soon as you start. 

“Oops.” He says. “My bad.” 

Your eyes grow wider in terror. 

“Hey, hey,” he says soothingly, like that’s going to help when there’s a random man in your bed. “None of that. I’m a friend.” 

You scream louder. In a spark of inspiration, you try to bite him. He winces. That’s when you start noticing the ears and the tail. The faint resemblances to someone else you know. The bandages wrapped around his torso. 

“That’s right,” he says, noticing you look. “Recognize me now? Would this help?” 

The tail flicks back and forth in a familiar motion. Someone else used to do that to show his happiness. 

“Wolfie?”

“That’s a stupid name,” he laughs. 

“I think I’m going to pass out.” 

“Don’t do that,” he says, but it’s too late. You’re going back to bed. 

You’re not sure why you’re not more surprised that the stray you picked up is actually a human, but after your initial reaction, you find yourself remarkably open to the idea. Part of you feels privately that you’ve always expected Wolfie to be special. He seemed so smart. 

You’re in too deep to kick him out now, human or not, but that also might be an excuse. Having him around is nice, you have to admit. Whether he’s a human or a dog, having someone to come home to has changed your life.

You hadn’t realized how lonely you were until you came home to Wolfwood preparing dinner, the apron you bought for him wrapped around his waist. It reads ‘kiss the chef’ in bright pink letters. 

Although you’re the one who took him in, you feel like you’re the one being taken care of. 

It’s not just you. Even your coworkers have commented on the way you rush home now instead of staying up until the very last minute. You can’t keep up with your bad habits anymore. There’s someone waiting for you now.

When you open the door, the delicious fragrance of something savory drifts to your nose, spiced and warm. “I’m home,” you call. 

There’s no need. He’s already waiting at the door. It’s a comical sight. He tries to make it casual, leaning against the wall with an oh-so-nonchalant air, but he’s there every single time you walk through the entrance without fail. 

It’s too easy to get used to his presence.  

Having someone to come home to makes you quicker to turn down overtime requests and more hesitant to take on additional duties. You thought this would hurt your work report, and you were willing to take the hit. Some things are worth it. 

Instead, your productivity spikes. Even your manager notices, doling out rare and surprised praise on one of your last projects. The change in you is palpable.

“Did you get a boyfriend?” Meryl asks. “You seem happier lately.” 

Everyone notices the way you seem brighter, more easygoing. You’ve started bringing homemade lunch boxes instead of eating out. Your good mood has translated into a better work product than any amount of indifferent hours you put in before. 

It’s still a surprise when you receive your promotion at the end of the quarter. Something you’ve been working towards for months drops right in your lap. Lately, it feels like everything has been falling into place. 

Good things arrive on the heels of even better things, all because you’ve felt more personally fulfilled than you have in years. You though taking Wolfwood in would slow you down, but it’s done the opposite.

You have more time now that you have someone looking after you. It also motivates you to have someone of your own to care for.

When you present the news to him, you can’t stop yourself from crying out of happiness, though it’s embarrassing. Wolfwood licks at the small tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“What are you doing?” You laugh, trying to push his face away with no real effort behind it. 

“Kisses,” he replies. “For doing a good job.” 

Not like that, you try to remind yourself. He doesn’t mean it like that.

“Why is your heart beating faster?” 

Stupid dog senses. 

There are other ways in which his dog nature comes in handy. He’s more sensitive to nature than you are. You’ve come to rely on him instead of the forecast as he sends you off every morning, his nose scenting the ozone and petrichor in the air. 

“Don’t forget to take an umbrella!” 

“I’m already running late, bye!” 

You should’ve listened. Now you’re forced to trudge through the damp muck, soaked to the bone. Your sneeze is so strong it rattles through your bones, making you feel achey and weak as you sniffle through the last leg of your journey. By the time you finally reach the front door, you feel as pathetic as you must look, like a half drowned rat. 

Wolfwood is waiting for you again, but you barely register it. You nearly stumble over a cabinet leg as you try to make your way to the couch through the dizziness, collapsing on it. Wolfwood pads over to you, making a low grumbling noise of concern.

“Shh,” you murmur as you feel his cold nose shove into your palm. “Not right now, Wolfie. I’m tired.” 

He puts his head across your thigh and whines discontentedly. Your breathing is coming a little hard. Still, you try to reassure him. “I’m okay. Just had a long day.” 

There’s human hands against your forehead now, nice and cool. You turn your head so you can nuzzle into it, the gentle pressure relieving your headache just a little. 

Someone’s holding you now, arms around your back and sides. “Come on, sweetheart, you gotta sit up. Eat something.” 

Almost like a dog yourself, you whine and pout, turning your face away. The idea of food is turning your stomach right now. Everything seems too rich for your weak stomach. 

“This is why I told you to take that umbrella this morning.” Wolfwood’s voice is stern, but his hands are kind as he props you up. 

“One sip, alright? For me.” 

Weakly, you part your lips so he can slide the spoon between your teeth. It’s a mild broth, barely any flavor to it, but it’s the only thing you can bear at the moment. The hot soup feels incredible, warming you from the inside out. 

“There we go,” he says. “Good job, sweetheart.”

With his help, you finish the whole bowl. He wraps the blanket tighter around you before he takes the dirty dishes. Even when he leaves your side, you can hear him bustling around the room, so you’re not worried. This is nice. Even feverish, you feel pleasant. 

When Wolfwood returns to the couch, his dog ears are peeking out of his hair. He kneels by you to check your temperature. Spotting your chance, you scratch at the base of his ears, listening for the satisfying thump of his tail hitting his thigh when you get the spot he really likes.

“What a good boy,” you coo, forgetting yourself. 

He laughs at you, watching you fluster. “Did you forget I’m not a real dog?” 

Your face is hot, but not from the fever. 

A few months into the strange miracle of having someone else to care for, and someone to care for you, Wolfwood asks you for an unusual favor. 

“Can you get me a collar?” 

Your gaze sweeps over him, considering. “I don’t know how I’d feel about that now that I know you’re a man.” 

“Honest, aren’t you?” When he smiles, you can see his fangs. It’s strangely charming, the wink of white bone in the corner of his mouth. 

“Why do you even want one?”

“I dunno, instinct? It just feels nice.” He braces his hand against his throat, testing the way it’d feel. “Yeah. It feels like something’s missing.” 

“That’s strange. I thought you’d prefer to be free.” 

He stretches out, lifting his arms. You can see the muscle lining his back beneath his thin, nearly transparent white tee. “Freedom is relative. Everyone is tied to something, you know. No use in pretending otherwise.” 

You tap his nose playfully. With a mischievous look in his eyes, he lunges forward and snaps his teeth over your finger. 

“You can be wise for a puppy,” you say teasingly. 

“Like I keep telling you, I’m a man,” he says, roughly pulling you towards him so he can punish you by messing with your hair. You shriek in protest, trying to push him off, but the request sticks inside your head.

On the weekend, you take a few leashes from the right section and sneak into a quieter corridor in the pet store. Even though you’ve agreed to this for Wolfwood’s sake, it’s still embarrassing. You have your pride, and it’d be hard to explain to anyone what your actual situation is. 

Perhaps understanding your plight, Wolfwood doesn’t mess with you as he usually does. Or maybe he’s just pliant at the thought of getting what he wants as you clip the leather around his neck. 

It looks good on him, you have to admit. He looks almost like a punk rock star, transforming it from dog collar to statement necklace. 

You flick the tag on his neck, watching the silver circle twinkle with your name and number. It’s meant for him to wear when he chooses to go on walks himself as a dog. “Now it’ll be okay even if you do get lost,” you tell him, satisfied.

“I’d be fine either way,” he says. “I know the way home.” 

For some reason, that makes you feel as owned as he looks, even though you’re not the one with a collar around your neck.

[salty-croissants]

hi yes have you considered the reader finding a very wet, tired Ramon during a rainstorm on the streets and taking them to their place as our lord and saviour yet?

Thank you for the request ! 

Honestly this is such a good prompt , I can’t tell you how much I loved writing it ! 

Ramon has suffered so much , this man really does deserve to be taken care of :,I ❤️

Hope this turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

strangers to lovers ; 

presence of mild swearing

< Man … today of all days I had to leave my umbrella home … > 

You sighed , looking up at the raindrops falling from the sky while huddling in your jacket’s hoodie to find some warmth in the cold .

It had been a fairly average day , and you were ready to finally return home without anything unusual happening …

… until your eyes wandered off in a nearby alleyway .

< What the … ? > 

Maybe it was just the fact that you were a bit tired after work , or maybe it was just your imagination … but you were pretty sure that you spotted the silhouette of someone laying down on the ground , hidden in the darkness .

You looked around , unsure of what to do … 

The people passing by didn’t seem to be caring much about it , clearly all too involved in their own business , so eventually your curiosity got the best of you and you ended up walking in the alleyway , knowing full well that it wasn’t the most safe thing to do … 

But then again , you had a history of wanting to be there for someone when they where in trouble , no matter who they were .

It only took a few steps in to realize that there was indeed someone there …

And your expression immediately turned into worry when you realized in what poor conditions he was : 

he was shaking , his coat unable to give him enough shelter from the rain , and by the looks of it he was at least trying to get some sleep despite the less than welcoming surroundings . 

… wait , on second thought didn’t that face seem familiar ? 

Yeah , that was Rayman , the guy who hosted the majority of Eden’s shows !

He surely looked a lot … different than usual … and why would he be in such a place right now ? 

You kneeled before him , wondering if anyone would’ve come looking for him … he was well known by the whole city after all , it would’ve made sense . 

But at the same time you couldn’t leave him there like that …

< *sigh* … okay , carefully now … > 

After wrapping him with your jacket , you slowly picked him up from the ground , hearing him groan slightly as you walked away , following a not very crowded road to your house . 

It was definitely not quite an average day anymore at least . 

*some time later* 

< Hnn … wh … what … where … ? > 

As Ramon opened his eyes , he noticed that he was in some unknown apartment … with two or three warm blankets covering him up . 

Who would be so kind to him now that he was a criminal … ? This had to be some sort of trick … what if one of Eden’s buddies had caught him ? 

Paranoia started to overwhelm him , but before he could do anything a door to his left opened , and he wearily watched you walk in the room with two cups of tea in your hand .

Your expression became relieved when you noticed that your guest was up .

< Ah , you’re awake - that’s great ! 

Sorry , I don’t really have much tea left , I only had the lemon flavored one , I hope that’s okay … > 

Ramon looked at the warm cup you had placed in front of him , then back at you , completely baffled by your hospitality … 

It was definitely not what he was expecting , and you really didn’t seem like the type of person that would turn around and try to kill him out of the blue … but still , he remained suspicious . 

< Now ��� may I ask what you were doing out here , Mister Rayman ? > 

He growled at the mention of his old name , giving you an irritated glare …

< … that’s not my name . Not anymore . 

I’m Ramon now . > 

, he simply replied , one of his floating hands carefully grabbing the cup of tea , almost like he was afraid of it . 

< And what I was doing isn’t really your problem now , is it ? > 

You tilted your head , not understanding what he was talking about or the reason behind his hostility … 

A long silence followed his words , before Ramon eventually let out a sigh , the feeling of your eyes staring at him in confusion starting to make him feel … pretty bad for lashing out like that . 

< … I just … why would you even bother to bring me here ?

I don’t know who you are or what your deal is … for all I know , you could be working with Eden’s assholes to capture me or something … > 

His gaze met yours , but he couldn’t find a single trace of malice in it … 

< Well … you can trust me when I say that I’m probably the least dangerous person you could run into , so if you’re afraid that I might hurt you I can assure you that’s not gonna happen . > 

, you quietly replied , pausing to drink some tea before continuing the conversation . 

< I just couldn’t bare the thought to leave you there alone in the rain , so I thought I’d at least bring you to a place that could give you some shelter . 

That’s … heh , all there is to it , really . 

I understand why you’d be weary of me , like you said , you don’t really know me … but it just felt right , y’know ? 

I’m sorry if this is a bit too uncomfortable though … I didn’t mean to make it that way , Ray - sorry … Ramon . > 

Maybe it was just because he had gone through so much lately , but the relaxing atmosphere of your home mixed with your soothing voice managed to ease some of Ramon’s tension , and after a moment of hesitation he took a deep breath and took a sip out of the cup of tea he had been holding that whole time .

< You’re good … 

To answer what you asked me before , about why I was around here , let’s just say that I’m … currently not on good terms with Eden . > 

Anger flashed in his black eyes , as his mind traveled back to the past few hours …

< Turns out those bastards have been using me my whole goddamn life , and I was having none of that shit , so … >

You could see his hands visibly shaking while trying to regain composure .

< … I … the Board of Directors … they’re dead . All of ‘em . They won’t ever put any other innocent Hybrid’s life at stake . >

Your eyes widened , slowly processing that big load of information that he had given you .

 < You … killed them ? >

Ramon nodded , without a single word .

< Huh … well , that explains why Eden is looking for you . 

Are … you okay ? > 

He couldn’t help but look up at you , shocked by how concerned you were about him despite him being a total stranger …

< Wh … I just … > 

He chuckled , one of his floating hands covering his eyes as his chuckle turned into laughter .

Ramon had almost forgotten what that felt like … to be cared about .

 < Haha … I can’t believe this … how the hell can you just be so - so nice to me , even after I told you I murdered someone ??

God , I don’t get it … I don’t get it … > 

Seeing him somewhat happy for the first time since you begun talking brought a strange , warm feeling to your heart that you couldn’t quite explain …

It was … nice .

< Heh , that’s just how I am . > 

You slowly got up from your seat , walking towards Ramon to give him a little pat on his shoulder .

< Look , I understand that you’ve been through a lot … 

If by any chance you need a place to stay , I … well , I know my apartment is pretty small , but you can stay here for as long as you need . > 

Normally Ramon would’ve flinched in front of such a sudden move from anyone else , but with you it was different … he didn’t feel like he needed to fear you , he didn’t know why … 

He just stared back into your eyes , nodding in response with a little smile on his face …

< Hm … that sounds like a good plan . 

Thank you , uh … > 

< You’re welcome … 

And you can call me y/n . > 

[beatteez]

please write more for mingi 🙏🙏 like a college au anything (if you do those)

thank you sm for the suggestion i would love to. i decided on fluffy mingi, i hope thats okay!

[19:10] - s.mg

송 민기

boyfriend!mingi x gn!reader

genre: fluff, college au a/n: mingi is a himbo i stand by that

warnings: kissing in the rain (if thats a warning), collegebf!mingi, himbo!mingi, min is whipped, talks of the painting of cronus (saturn) eating his kid

"babe"

you look over to your right and almost bump heads with your boyfriend who got really close without you knowing.

"whats wrong" you look at him concern taking over your face at his expression. his eyebrows furrowed so much you could assume they were going to touch each other soon.

"why is he eating someone" he looks over at the projector then back at you, shock covering his features now.

"mingi.."

"huh"

"have you been paying attention at all" you question him, now furrowing your eyebrows. he shakes his head, his features softening.

"i was staring at you, then i look over at the screen..." he trails off shivering slightly. you giggle at his actions and point at your notes you've been taking.

"thats one of his sons, he got news that one of them would overrule him, so he decided he would eat all of his kids so that wouldn't happen" you explain to him, his features scrunching up again "try to focus on the class min" you whisper.

"but..you're so pretty when you're focused" he mumbles out. you look at him raising an eyebrow.

"min"

"yes?"

"im not helping you on the next test" his mouth drops open in offense as if you said the most foul thing in the world to him "pay attention to class baby" you say quietly pointing to the front. he pouts turning his head so he's facing the professor.

as you continue with your notes while class finishes up, mingi catching your attention from your peripheral. you look over at him and he quickly turns to face the front again.

"mingi"

"y/n" he says turning to face you. you give him a stern look "i cant help it" he groans "just let me look at my pretty girlfreind" your eyes rolled back slightly and you let out a puff of air in defeat.

"you're so lucky your hot" you mumble, a smile pulling at his lips. he goes to say something but you hold up your hand "shh, let me at least focus" you say.

soon the professor finishes his lecture, letting everyone go. you slide your notebook and computer into your bookbag and look up at mingi whos eyes are already on you.

"ready" he ask a soft smile on his lips, you nod and grab onto his hand that was held out for you. you walked towards the apartment you were sharing with mingi, his hand letting go of yours so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders.

you feel a raindrop hit your cheek then another, your head tilting up, more rain drops. you groan knowing you still have a 5 minute walk to the apartment.

the rain gets heavier and you look over at mingi whos walking with his eye closed. you admire him in the warm tones of the street lights. his hair getting wet already from the rain. the rain hitting his cheeks seem soft and gentle just like him. your heart flutters and you stop walking, mingi turns to face you his eyebrows furrowing again.

"i love you" you say turning to face him.

"i love you too" he mumbles his hands perching on your waist, pulling you close to him. his fingers squeezing softly against your now wet t-shirt. he leans down slowly stopping before your lips touch "such a pretty girl" he mumbles against your lips.

you close the gap connecting your lips with his, a soft but intense spark fills your chest. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, his arms wrapping fully around your waist now. his lips are soft, maybe from the chapstick you applied earlier on him because he was picking at his lips. you scolded him and forced him to use the strawberry chapstick you kept with you. this caused his kiss to be strawberry flavored, a favorite of yours.

you feel him pull away slightly "you can check this off your bucket list" he says giving you another peck. a smile creeps onto your face.

"how do you know about that" you question him smiling.

"you've told me before" he says softly. his voice deep and soothing.

you chuckle softly.

you're boyfriend may not always be the brightest on regular subjects, but when it comes to you hes the smartest person you know.

you pull his head down softly closer to yours to kiss him again, his lips moving in sync with yours, his hands holding you tight against him, your favorite feelings all in one.

"love you so much" he says pulling away mumbling against your lips.

"love you more mings" you say back connecting your lips again.

masterlist

[divine-misfortune]

I'm so sorry you're having A Day, but here are a few soft, romantic thoughts I have to spare. I hope they help <3

- Mountain and Rain laying side by side in the grass by the lake on a nice spring day. Chatting now and then, hands close enough for their pinkies to touch. Rain curls them together just because he can, relaxed and sun-warm and so, so at peace. Eventually they both doze off, and Rain wakes up first. Pushes himself up to sitting, stretches his arms, and when he looks over at Mountain he's still snoring - and surrounded by familiar little blue flowers that certainly weren't there when they laid down. Rain can't keep the smile from his face as he plucks a handful of the delicate little blooms. He weaves them into Mountain's mussed hair, a crown worn in Rain's honor, and curls up against his side when he's done. Rests his head on Mountain's chest so he can drift off to the sound of his heart - his favorite place to be.

- Aether, who misses Dew terribly when he leaves for tour. Didn't expect it to ache as much as it does, waking up in an empty bed - so he starts sleeping in Dew's room. Curls up in his blankets and his pillows and soaks in the lingering scent of his mate. It fades far too quickly, though, and Aether gets a touch despondent. Doesn't say anything to Dew, of course, and makes Sunshine promise she won't either when she walks in on Aether huffing Dew's linens one evening. Then, while he's scrambling his eggs one morning, Aether decides he's in the mood for tea. Opens up the rotating caddy Mountain always keeps stocked to grab a bag of his favorite flavor (rosehip and raspberry) and smells something very specific. Familiar. Something that makes him pause, tip his head and stick his face in the caddy. It's warm, spicy, a little woody - in a delayed sort of way, he realizes it smells like Dewdrop. Not exactly, but close enough for little butterflies to flutter to life in his belly and a crease to form between his brows. Aether picks up one of the baggies that smells like cinnamon and clove and cardamom and everything else he loves so much. He brews a cup while his eggs burn, and that first sup of chai feels like home. He turns off the stove and retreats once more to Dew's bed, inhaling heady steam that leaves him more relaxed with every breath. Curled up in soft sheets, scalding mug in his hands, it's almost like he has his Dewdrop back. He'll have to give Mountain a special sort of thank you when they all get home - the internal peace that spiced scent brings is worth damn near anything.

- Swiss, who latches on to Aeon immediately for several reasons and finds himself head over heels before he knows it. Looking at the new kid all moon-eyed across the practice room, squishing up next to him on the couch or in a pew during mass. Finding any excuse to touch him, to be near him, even just to talk to him - maybe he's a little obsessed, but hey, you can't blame a ghoul in love. He shows Aeon all the best, secret spots in the abbey. Sneaks him away with a sly grin and a firm grip on Aeon's hand, tugging him anywhere he pleases. Aeon, for what it's worth, never argues. He's as smitten as Swiss, truth be told, but this way they flirt and tease and play is too much fun for him to come right out and say it. Better to let Swiss drag him around with that one glint in his eye - like a teenage boy with a crush, eager to stick his hand up someone's shirt for the first time. When they finally fall into bed together, after so many stolen make-out sessions in the cemetery and shared joints in every dark corner, Aeon expects it to be frenzied. Playful, sure, but rough. Urgent. What he gets is a bedroom lit by dozens of candles, rose petals strewn all over and a bottle of wine far too nice for the pair of them. What he gets is Swiss at his gentlest, his most tender, and it absolutely bowls him over. He tells Swiss he loves him right as he's about to blow, and doesn't even think about taking it back in the afterglow. Swiss kisses the tip of his nose, winks, and tells Aeon not to be such a sap. (He blabbered a constant stream of "I love you's" into Aeon's throat the whole time, he just can't help himself.)

I really hope your day gets better. Do something nice for yourself - you deserve it :))))

OHHHH MIASMA :((((((((((((((((( /pos

Rain is the little lizard sunbathing on a nice warm rock (Mountain).

Those pale blue flowers in his lovely auburn hair, looks nearly red in the sunlight. Honestly rain probably lays back down and is going to pass back out but stops, finds his phone in thr grass, and takes a picture of both sleeping mountain and a picture of him curled up there in his side. One of which will be his new phone wallpaper.

Probably wakes up himself to mountain tucking one behind his ear, chuckling and apologizing for waking sleeping beauty but it's getting dark. Rain doesn't wanna move, too comfy.

Squeaks when Mountain gets up and scoops him in his arms, saying the ground is no resting place for his princess, and Rain wants to roll his eyes but he can't bring himself too. Not when Mountain’s grinning like that.

I imagine Dew had a similar experience on the road...maybe not with tea, but, wether it be a candle or a cologne he stops to sniff while wandering through some shop in a state he doesn't care to remember the name of. Just. Stops to sniff it cause the container looked neat and his eyes go big. Puts a hand over his mouth because he knew he missed aether but didn't realize just how much he did. He puts it down and excuses himself to go get some air. Phantom and Aurora saw his reaction, go over and also smell whatever it might have been and both realize why he'd reacted like that.

Sweet new summons use whatever money they had left of their allowance to buy it. Leave it sitting in dews bunk before he even gets back on the bus.

Dew calls Aether later and the two of them laugh at themselves for how gross and needy they've gotta be to take comfort in things like this...but both of them keep these little things close until they can keep each other close.

Pulling Swiss and bug card, going straight for my heart......they absolutely would they'd be so disgustingly in love about it......I really do think about their first times together a lot. Maybe I'll finish that first kiss fic in the wips because it was so cute.

Swiss just. Ugh. Ugh Ugh. Would want him on his back, laid out in all these pillows, maybe got a petal or two in his hair, that soft purple flush in his cheeks. He wants to stare at that beautiful face forever. Probably gets so distracted staring at him phantom asks "are you still with me there???" And ofc Swiss is. Of course he's still with him, wouldn't wanna be anywhere else.

God hearing him say i love you nearly makes Swiss bust immediately and he will die of embarrassment about it later, even if Phantom thinks it's so adorable endearing - probably makes the stupidest joke abt Swiss' dick also loving him sooo much it just had to show him. Swiss is going to smother him with a pillow for personifying his dick while it's still inside him.

I will be thinking about this for the next 3-5 business days if anyone needs me

[jobrolion]

𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔

mista x gn!reader

summary | you first met mista when he came to the bakery you worked at, and almost every monday after he would entertain you while you were on the clock.

notes | fluff and some kissing, reader is referenced to be inexperienced

wc | 1819

****

Mista came to the bakery you worked at almost every Monday after his first visit a year ago. And he always ordered the same thing. A cappuccino and a cornetto pastry with jam filling, the day he asked you out it was strawberry.

The door chimed and you locked eyes with him as he closed the door behind himself. He breathed in the air that smelled of flour and yeast, sugar and spices, and he tried to catch yours too, to no avail. 

“Good morning, Mista. How are you?” It was always a genuine question and you always got a genuine answer. You were already getting his order together, moving to the side to make his drink.

“Much better now that I’m here. Slow morning?” 

“A little, the rain is keeping people away. Not you, thankfully.” You smiled brightly at him, “The jam flavor today is strawberry, but you could always switch it up and get a custard or chocolate?”

“Nice try.” He tsked your name, sitting on the stool by the counter facing you. Nobody else was in the bakery so he could keep you to himself for the time being.

After sliding him his coffee and pastry, you leaned on the counter, sipping your drink as he started on his.

“Excuse me if I’m overstepping a boundary here, but where’d you get the bruise under your eye? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine now. Just one of the perks of being a mafioso.”

You paused, staring at him for a moment before letting out an undignified snort.

“Be serious, Mista.” You said between laughs. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s ok.”

“Gotta keep the mystery.”

“I guess so.” For as long as he’d been coming in he’d been enigmatic, this was part of the appeal.

For an hour you both talked, never a lull in conversation, before the rain stopped and customers started pouring in. 

“Until we meet again.” He bowed with an exaggerated wink.

“See you, Mista.” You curtsied in return, waving him off. 

When you got off of work you went straight into your errands. Your day off was tomorrow and you wanted it to be strictly for leisure. 

After visiting the post office you took your time at the grocery store. As your job you baked pastries and breads, but your true passion lies with cooking. So you browsed ingredients and brainstormed new recipes to experiment with. 

You had your eye on the freshly made pasta and the display of mushrooms. They were practically begging to be taken home. A cream based sauce would do nicely with them and the herbs you grew in your garden and the spices you kept in your cabinet. 

You made conversation with the cashier as they rang you out. You left for your car once they were done and what you owed was paid. 

Before you could start the ignition you saw a shadow and heard a knock on your window. Clear as day, Guido Mista was there outside your car, waiting with a grin. You exited your car and matched his enthusiasm. 

“Small world, huh?”

Mista laughed, a little nervously and stared for a moment before…

“I just uh- I have something to ask you. It’s been slowly eating away at me, but I’ve never been able to ask you because it feels wrong to while you’re working and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. And I will never show up to the bakery ever again if you ask me to so don’t hesitate to tell me off or-”

“What are you trying to get at?” Patience is a virtue, but the man in front of you was struggling.

“Would you want to maybe get dinner with me sometime?” He was actually wringing his fingers. This man would shamelessly flirt with you every time he came into your work and here he was sweating over asking you out.

“Like a date?”

“Exactly like a date.” 

“I’d really like that, Mista. Are you free tomorrow night?”

It was a date. He chose the location and picked you up at 7 the next day. But before that, you fretted over what to wear and how you were going to act. This was not going to be the same as all those Monday mornings he’d spend at your bakery. You tried to calm down, it’s just Mista, the funny, flirty guy who entertains you while you’re on the clock. But it’s also Mista, the man you’d been crushing on for over half a year now who made your cheeks hot to the touch and your heart flutter.

When he picked you up, he knocked on your door, a single rose in his hand and a blush across his cheeks. You smiled as he gave it to you.

“Watch there's a thorn right there.”

You looked and sure enough there was a thorn where you were about to place your hand. “Where did you get this, Mista?”

“That’s top secret.”

“I’m flattered that you’d steal a rose for me, touching really.”

His cheeks flushed a darker shade of red and stayed that way as he took your hand. 

“Where are you taking me?”

“The Libeccio. It’s a favorite of mine. The food is to die for.” 

“I pass it on my way to work, I’m excited to try it!”

When you arrived, you were seated in a candle lit corner by a darkened window. It was obvious to you that this was planned and that warmed your heart.

After you ordered you noticed a group of young men who kept glancing over and looking away quickly, talking hushedly amongst themselves. 

“Mista, don’t look now, but those guys over there keep looking at us.”

He did look, and immediately a panic washed over his face. 

“What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

“Ah so this is embarrassing. They’re my friends.” He simplified it. “They kind of didn’t believe that you said yes. I didn’t think they’d actually show up. I’m really sorry.”

“Some friends, huh?”

Mista laughed nervously, “Yeah, something like that.”

Truth was, the rest of Bucciarati’s team knew of his infatuation with you, but not only did they doubt the date, but they also doubted your existence. So apparently, they had taken it upon themselves to settle the matter by spying on Mista.

“Should we ignore them?”

A sharp nod was your answer, so the two of you averted your eyes for the rest of the meal. He did assure you later that they meant well and were excited for him, despite them not believing him fully.

The date went as well as it could have, disregarding that minor incident. And before you knew it, you were already back on your doorstep.

“I’m glad you asked me out, Mista. I was too afraid to.” You confessed. 

“Really? What about me is so frightening?” He looked over himself, faux concern painting his features which made you laugh, making him drop the act, smiling.

Mista then took your hand in his and leaned in, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. As he pulled away, you guided his face towards yours and kissed his lips. You swore you short circuited, having never felt a spark like this with anyone before. After a moment, you hesitantly pulled away.

“Will I see you Monday?” You said breathlessly.

“Without a doubt.”

Two more Monday’s came and went before Mista asked you for a second date. This time you were on your feet all day, exploring the city, stopping occasionally for a break, once at a cafe and once at a fountain, and many times to steal kisses from each other. You wished you could fit more hours in a day, never would you want this one to end.

After dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant Mista asked if you wanted to come back to his place for a while. 

You were hesitant. Before him you had barely ever kissed anybody, and you had never gone back to anyone's house for anything, ever.

But you trusted Mista and you wanted to spend more time with him, so you said yes.

His apartment was small and simple, a stark contrast to his personality, but it somehow suited him. It was comfortable with ambient lighting and a neutral color pallet. He offered you a glass of water which you accepted. Standing by his kitchen counter you smiled, thanking him for the time you spent together.

“I should be the one thanking you, I haven't had a day this nice in too long ” 

Eventually you both migrated to his couch, sitting closer than you really had to. After a few more short remarks about the day, he leaned in, pressing a short kiss to your cheek. 

“Kiss me here, Mista.” You pointed to your lips, eyes piercing his.

He complied, kissing you fully and passionately, hands finding their way to your face, holding you sweetly. 

It could have been a minute or an hour that you sat there worshiping each other's lips. But then he placed a hand on your waist and a groan escaped him, taking you by surprise, you pulled back.

“Shit, my bad. I don't want to cross any lines here.”

“It's ok.” You laughed nervously. “It’s just that I’ve never gone any further than this with anyone. I don’t know if I want that tonight.”

“Then we take this at your pace, alright?” Your heart filled with adoration, all anxieties washing away with a single sentence. 

“Is more of this ok?”

“Take the lead.”

After a while, you startled when you noticed the time. You hated to go, but you had to open the bakery the next day. 

“I’ll see you Monday?”

“You'll see me sooner.”

Mista drove you home. Even after this, it was like nothing changed. You could still talk endlessly and being with him just felt natural. A year of Mondays brought the two of you closer week by week until now when you swore you were already in love.

He kissed you at your doorstep and watched as you closed the door behind you. And when he was sure you couldn’t see him he pumped his fist in the air and headed back to his car. But you did see him and now you were certain you were in love.

As you opened the bakery early the next morning you lamented another rainy day. The gray sky a sharp contrast to your sunny disposition. A dreary middle of the week Wednesday promised little to no customers which meant you got to spend the day alone. 

When you finished your opening tasks, you sat with a drink and waited. Fixing the displays and cleaning could only keep you occupied for so long.

As you took the last sip, the door chimed and you turned your head to see Mista greeting you with a wave and a smile.

****

title reference

from the morning - nick drake