#another thank you to my sweethearts on google hang out

[siriuslysmoking]

Oh, Baby

A/N: I have not been motivated in the slightest to write anything recently, but I was in the shower and thought of this.

Warnings: Pregnant!reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, delivery, comfort, Y/n is overused, I have no idea what pregnancy or birth feels like, this is all either from google or how I think It'd feel like.

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You're pregnant, three weeks till your due date, your husband is on tour with his band for a last 'hurrah' before he becomes a stay-at-home dad. One problem. He arrives back at home tomorrow, but your water breaks tonight.

Masterlist

You were making dinner when you felt it, a slight pain in your belly, you turned the stove on to low as you made your way towards the bathroom, you didn't.

Wayne's in the kitchen, getting ready for his night shift, you feel a trickle of liquid rush down your leg. embarrassed you rush back to the kitchen to grab towels.

Then you feel the pain, a soft pain in your lower stomach before a sharp pain travels through your body. You take deep breaths, putting your hands on the counter holding yourself up.

no. nope. not happening.

"Are you alright, Y/n?" Wayne speaks from the living room where he's tying his shoes. you quickly shake your head as the pain leaves after a minute. He moves quickly, coming to your aid.

Wayne was staying with you just in case you needed anything while Eddie was gone. you had a spare bedroom and he was happy to help. "My water might have just broken in the hallway."

Wayne looks, seeing a small puddle of liquid on the hardwood. "You call Eddie, I'll grab your bag, okay?"

You give a soft nod, making your way to the phone, "It's in the nursery."

You punch the numbers of Eddie's phone, before looking to the stove to see the time, it's seven, meaning Eddie is playing his last show for the next few hours.

There's no hope in calling him, he won't have his phone on him, you quickly dial his managers.

ring

ring...

ring...

"Hello?"

"John! It's Y/n, Eddie's wife."

"Hey, hon' what can I do for you?"

"I might be in labor, would really appreciate it if you would notify Eddie."

"Oh! sure thing!"

"Thank you! I'll be at the Hospital in Hawkins, tell him he can reach me there."

"Of course!"

"Alright, thank." You hang the phone back up, just when Wayne comes back down the hallway with your go bag and your shoes. you look at him in appreciation.

"Talk to him?"

"no, I called John, he said he'd relay the message." Wayne nods, heading to the door.

"Ready?"

"Nope."

"Sounds about right." Wayne laughs as he helps your sit and put on your shoes, he grabs your hands, helping you stand up and head out the door.

It's silent for most of the ten minute car drive, there's a total of three contractions on the way there. Wayne just reaches over to squeeze your shoulder.

you walk in the emergency room, a nurse comes quickly with a wheelchair. they find you a birthing room as a nurse starts to ask Wayne questions.

How far along is she?

Is she on any medication?

"Ask me.' Y/n sits up, looking at the nurse.

"Oh! I'm sorry, are you not the father?"

"No!" Both of you shout at the same time.

"I'm-"

"Grandpa, He's the baby' grandpa." The nurse nods, looking over to you.

"Alright, if you can lift your legs on the stirrups, I'll check your dialation." You nod as Wayne comes to your side, he asks you a silent question.

Want me to go? You shake your head, he's the only one here and you'd rather not do it alone.

"Alright, you are six centimeters dilated." Your eyes widen, only four? you need to dilate four more inches?

"How long?"

"It differs from patient to patient, Ma'am."

Another nurse comes into the room, "You have a call, it's transferred to your phone."

Wayne hands you the phone.

"Eddie?"

"Sweetheart?"

"Hey."

"Are you alright?"

"Are you kidding, I'm getting ready to push out your baby and you aren't here."

"right, sorry. I'm about to get onto a flight, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"You better or I will be so pissed at you."

"I know, baby"

"Please hurry."

"I will, I love you, honey."

"I love you too, Eds."

Eddie asks if he can talk to Wayne so you hand the phone to him, just in time for another contraction, Eddie can hear it through the phone, he feels a tear roll down his eye in this empty airport.

That's how your night turns, for three hours, Wayne never leaving your side, telling you to squeeze as hard as you want. You do, you feel bad, but you do. "Alright, Mrs. Munson, you're at nine centimeters."

"Can I push? Please can I push." You can't even hear Wayne's words of encouragement in this moment, you see the doctor shake her head, as she says something, "I change my mind! I don't want to do this! He's supposed to be here!"

There's tears running down your cheek. You had received your Epidural Block two hours ago, you still felt the pain, but right now all you were feeling was the absence of someone who is supposed to be in this room, right now.

“Alright Ma’am, take a deep breath and push for me.” You do as she says, Wayne squeezes your hand. You can finally hear everything around you again, you can also hear the heavy footsteps in the halls.

A doctor hurries in followed by a frantic looking Eddie, you sigh in relief as he makes his way towards you. He kisses your forehead and takes a hold of your hand.

“Another breath and push.” The doctor speaks again, you do, looking at Eddie as you do, you’re so beyond grateful he got here in time.

“One more.” You have tears running down your cheek as you give it your all, you collapse back onto the bed once you’ve done your best, that’s when you hear it. The soft wailing of a child.

“Congratulations, It’s a girl.” Eddie smiles down at you, brushing stray hairs away from your face as he kisses your head once again.

“You did so well, I’m so proud of you.” The nurse hands you the baby and you hold her on your chest as eddie’ hand grazes her little arms. Wayne is sitting in the chair next to the bed as he also smiles at you.

Eddie and you both make eye contact, you have decided on both a name for a girl and a boy.

Eddie of course said, ‘if it’s a boy we have to name him edward jr.’

‘Eds, there is no Edward sr.’ because no one ever calls him Edward

After a split second, you mutter together, “Melanie.”

-

-

-

[reaper2187]

Kathryn Hahn x female reader

Scene opens with Kathryn Hahn and Y/N sitting side by side in front of a camera for Wired’s Autocomplete Interview. The two are on a press tour for their latest movie together, a dark comedy-thriller with a supernatural twist. Kathryn, with her warm smile and energetic demeanor, contrasts with Y/N’s more stoic, but subtly charming presence. Y/N is 23, tall, and has a masculine-presenting style—she’s often dressed in darker clothes, favoring leather jackets and combat boots, a stark contrast to Kathryn's colorful, quirky outfits.

They both look at the famous whiteboard with Google search questions taped onto it, ready to answer fans' most searched questions.

Kathryn: (grinning at the camera) Hello, Wired! We are here for the Autocomplete Interview! I’m Kathryn Hahn, and this is the incredible Y/N, my co-star, who you probably know from her chilling horror roles or as Knightmare in the Marvel universe.

Y/N: (smiling slightly, a subtle quirk of her lips) Hey.

Kathryn: (playfully nudging Y/N) She’s super talkative, as you can tell. laughs But, seriously, she’s brilliant, so let’s see what people are curious about!

Kathryn peels off the first question.

Kathryn: Alright, first one! reads “Is Kathryn Hahn…”

Y/N: (leaning over to read too, curious) Ooh, let’s see what they wanna know about you.

Kathryn: laughs I’m nervous! “Is Kathryn Hahn…related to Adam Sandler?” Oh, wow. laughs

Y/N: snorts softly What?

Kathryn: Yeah, no. I’ve been in a movie with him, sure. But related? No. That would be an interesting family dynamic, though, wouldn’t it?

Y/N: nodding with mock seriousness Yeah, you guys could have, like, a whole comedic dynasty thing going on.

Kathryn: laughs Right? Imagine family dinners—just bits, all the time. But nope, not related. Alright, next! tears off another strip

“Is Kathryn Hahn…a witch?” laughs loudly Okay, okay, I see where this is coming from.

Y/N: grinning now Agatha Harkness. People loved you in that.

Kathryn: dramatic voice The power of Agatha compels them! laughs But no, I’m not actually a witch in real life. I just play one on TV, and apparently, I’m convincing.

Y/N: smirking Too convincing, maybe.

Kathryn: You know, with all the witchy roles, I might start believing it myself. Alright, next! Y/N, your turn!

Kathryn hands Y/N the board, and Y/N tears off the next strip of questions.

Y/N: reads “Is Y/N…”

Kathryn: leaning in with curiosity Ooooh, I like this.

Y/N: deadpan “Is Y/N a serial killer?”

Kathryn: bursts out laughing Oh my God, of course that’s the first thing people want to know!

Y/N: shrugs with a smirk Can’t really blame them. I’ve, uh, killed a lot of people. Kathryn giggles at that On screen.

Kathryn: Yeah, let’s make that clear! She’s a total sweetheart off-screen, I swear.

Y/N: quirking an eyebrow Thanks. But no, not a serial killer. Just play one in horror movies. turning to the camera with a mock serious tone Don’t worry.

Kathryn: teasing I mean, she is very convincing, though. Sometimes I wonder. laughs You’ve got this whole intense thing going on in your roles. How do you flip the switch between being the killer and just, you know, hanging out?

Y/N: considering for a second Honestly, I just look at it like a job. I step into the character’s head, and then once the scene’s done, I step out. It’s like leaving the mask behind.

Kathryn: nodding That’s cool. And also, the intensity you bring to those characters? Terrifying. You know how many nightmares you’ve given people?

Y/N: smirking Knightmares, you mean?

Kathryn: laughs Yes! Marvel’s very own Knightmare, everyone! Speaking of which… Kathryn rips off the next strip “Is Y/N in Marvel?”

Y/N: nodding slightly Yeah. I play Knightmare. She’s the daughter of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Kathryn: Which is so badass.

Y/N: chuckling softly Yeah, she’s… complicated. A lot of darkness in her, but she’s also figuring out her place in the world. Kind of like me, except I don’t have demon parents.

Kathryn: laughing That we know of!

Y/N: dryly True.

Kathryn: Knightmare is such a cool character, though. Dark, complex, a little terrifying. Very much your brand.

Y/N: nods Yeah, I like playing her. She’s got layers.

Kathryn: You’re amazing in that role. Every time you come on screen, people are like, "Oh no, things are about to get real."

Y/N: smiling a little more now Thanks. It’s fun getting to show up in the Marvel universe and just… bring that intensity. But also not just be, you know, the villain. She’s more than that.

Kathryn: seriously Absolutely. There’s so much more going on with her. I love that Marvel’s giving you that space to explore it.

Y/N nods, visibly comfortable in the conversation, though still measured in her responses. Kathryn peels off the next question.

Kathryn: reads “Can Kathryn Hahn…” pauses “…sing?”

Y/N: grins Can you?

Kathryn: laughs Yes! I mean, I can carry a tune. I did some singing in Central Park and WandaVision, and I love it. But I wouldn’t call myself a full-on singer. You wouldn’t see me in, like, a rock band or anything.

Y/N: teasing I don’t know, I think you could pull it off.

Kathryn: playfully Oh, please. With you on guitar? We could start a band! What would our band name be?

Y/N: deadpan Agatha and the Knightmares.

Kathryn: laughing hysterically YES! That’s it. You’ve just named our band. We’ll tour next year.

Y/N: smiling, slightly amused I’m in.

Kathryn: still chuckling Alright, let’s see what’s next. tears off another strip “Can Y/N…fight?”

Y/N: smirking I hope so.

Kathryn: mocking awe You are so intense. But seriously, you do all your own fight scenes, right?

Y/N: Yeah, mostly. I train a lot for them. It’s important to me that the physicality feels real, especially in the horror stuff and as Knightmare.

Kathryn: nodding You’re amazing at it. I mean, I’ve seen you fight on set. You’re no joke.

Y/N: modestly Thanks. It’s all choreography, but yeah, I like it. It’s like a dance in a way.

Kathryn: smiling A deadly dance, but yeah, I see it. You’ve got that precision.

Y/N: shrugs Gotta keep the audience on the edge of their seats.

Kathryn: You definitely do. Every time you fight, it’s like, “Oh no, someone’s about to die.” But you also bring this emotion to it, like it’s not just about the violence.

Y/N: nodding Exactly. It’s more than the fighting. There’s always something driving it—whether it’s survival, vengeance, fear, whatever. That’s what makes it interesting.

Kathryn: impressed See? This is why you’re so good at what you do. You put so much thought into it.

They share a smile, and Kathryn reaches for the next question.

Kathryn: reads “Does Kathryn Hahn…”

Y/N: mock suspense Drumroll.

Kathryn: laughs “…have tattoos?”

Y/N: looking at Kathryn, curious Do you?

Kathryn: laughing No, I don’t! I know, shocker, right? I’m like, the most tattoo-less person ever. But I do think about it sometimes. What about you?

Y/N: shrugs A few. Nothing crazy, though.

Kathryn: intrigued Really? Where?

Y/N: teasingly You’ll have to guess.

Kathryn: laughing Ooh, mysterious. Okay, okay

. I’m not gonna push you for details, but I’m now very curious.

Y/N: smirking Good.

Kathryn: shaking her head, smiling Alright, next! “Does Y/N like horror movies?”

Y/N: nods slightly Yeah, I do. It’s weird because I’m in them so much, but I love the tension, the atmosphere. It’s not just about the scares for me. It’s about what horror can say about fear, about people.

Kathryn: thoughtful That makes sense. You don’t just act in them—you kinda live and breathe them. What’s your favorite?

Y/N: pausing to think I’d probably say The Shining. It’s a classic, but it’s more psychological than just jump scares. There’s this creeping dread that sticks with you.

Kathryn: nodding Yeah, that movie is so unsettling. I can totally see why you’d love that. You bring that same kind of dread to your roles.

Y/N: shrugging modestly Thanks.

Kathryn: teasing And yet here you are, the nicest person in real life. It’s wild.

Y/N: smiling slightly Gotta keep people guessing.

Kathryn: laughing You’re good at that.

They both share a relaxed look before Kathryn grabs the final question.

Kathryn: Last one! “Does Y/N have a Marvel future?”

Y/N: glancing at the camera with a slight grin That’s… classified.

Kathryn: laughs Classic Marvel answer! But seriously, people are excited to see more of Knightmare. And I think they should be. You’re fantastic in that role.

Y/N: nodding We’ll see. There’s a lot of potential for where Knightmare can go. I’m just along for the ride.

Kathryn: excited And we can’t wait to see it!

They both look at the camera as Kathryn wraps up.

Kathryn: Alright, that’s it for our Wired Autocomplete Interview! Thanks for hanging out with us and for all the weird, funny, and insightful questions!

Y/N: nodding Yeah, thanks.

Kathryn: grinning And don’t forget to check out our new movie—it’s a wild ride!

Y/N: smirking It’s killer.

Kathryn: laughing Of course you’d say that!

The camera fades out with the two of them laughing together, a perfect blend of Kathryn’s infectious energy and Y/N’s cool, subtle charm.

I tried a bit of a different style with this one, hope that's ok also I did another oneshot since I was away for sometime, I started University like 2 week ago and I'm still getting used to the timetable and that shit

[hunterbunter3000]

Can we have more with sweetheart and Kruger plssss 🥰

P.s I love your writing ❤️

EEEEE OF COURSE ♡ (and thank you! 🥹🥹 that means alot to me♡)

I'm so sorry I used Google translate for some of the language 😔

Content under the cut!

Tiny headcannon of mine that König is Sebastian Krueger's younger step-brother.

Krueger: Hallo again, kleine Göttin. (Hello again, little Goddess.)

141 Sweetheart, a bit nervous that this man is TALLER than König: Uh, hey Krueger!

Another dumb headcannon of mine is that Krueger is 7'1.

141 Sweetheart, whispering: König what the hell did he call me--

König grips her waist and pulls her close to him.

König, frowning: sie wird dir nicht gehören, Bruder! Dieses Mal nicht! (She's not going to be yours, brother! Not this time!)

Krueger: Oh? Und du denkst, sie wird dir gehören? Ich weiß bereits, dass hier viele Männer um ihre Zuneigung kämpfen. (Oh? And you think she's going to be yours? I already know that many men here are fighting for her affection.)

Krueger, stepping closer to the two: Glauben Sie dass es Ihnen gelingen wird, ihre Liebe zu gewinnen? (Do you think you will be successful in winning her love?)

König: Es ist mir egal, ob ich gewinne oder verliere. (I don't care if I win or lose.)

König, looking at Sweetheart with love in his eyes: As long as she is in my life, I couldn't be more happier.

141 Sweetheart: I am so confused--

--

When Krueger met Sweetheart, he was still apart of Chimera. Nikolai said he needed to provide Task Force 141 some new weapons for a 'messy' mission. Krueger had the urge to come with him when Nikolai said his old friend was bringing someone along. 'For protection.' As Krueger explained his reason to his leader. Nikolai snorts and shakes his head. He agrees anyway.

When they arrived at the meeting spot, Price drove up not too long after them. The Capitan got out of the car first then a tall woman who made Krueger's heart stop beating. Oh, how Krueger folded so hard when he saw Sweetheart.

Nikolai explained that she was still quite new to SAS, but moved quickly up in the ranks. She was gonna be a Sergeant in a couple of months. Krueger was quite intrigued. Nothing was new that she moved up in the ranks quickly, many good soldiers have done that. But what intrigued him was her knowledge of weapons. She broke them down like she was reading a children's book to you. Pointing out which thing does what with manicured hands and fluttering dolly eyelashes. The proud look on Price's face mixed with admiration made Krueger's hair stand up.

"Very knowledgeable, young lady!" Nikolai said as he looked up at her. She chuckles as her hands clasps together near her meaty hips. "Thank you kindly, sir! Sorry, automatics get me in an explaining mood."

Nikolai chuckles. "Not a problem, Sweetheart."

Sweetheart?

Sweetheart.

He called her Sweetheart.

Krueger's eye twitched. Nikolai and Price started talking again while she stood there, eyeing the big loadout with her hands behind her back, resting on her behind.

Stop it, Krueger. Enough. Stop looking. Stop walking towards her. Stop.

He couldn't control himself. His feet moved him out of the shadows and made a stop right behind her. Her perfume swirled up to his nose, the sweet and airy cocoa aroma teasing his willpower.

Her scent travels through his blood stream, wraps around his nerves and tangles in his brain. It's apart of him, forever.

Fuck, he wants to devour her.

Her high pitch yelp snaps Krueger out of his trance. He looks down at her wide eyes and her figure crouching behind Price. "Krueger! I thought you were staying behind." Nikolai asks. Krueger doesn't answer him. He's too busy staring at her pretty hands resting on her Capitan's shoulders.

They shouldn't belong on there.

His gloved hand hangs out for her to shake. "Sebastian Krueger. Apart of Chimera. Nice to meet you."

Price shakes it instead. "Capitan John Price. Task 141. Likewise."

That wasn't meant for you.

Sebastian's grip tightened in rage. Price narrows his eyes at the tall giant's sudden hostility. He could tell that handshake wasn't for him. Krueger lets go and moved his hand to her. She stares at it until her brain cogs move again.

"Oh!" She steps from Price and Krueger's shoulders relax. "Call me Sweetheart. Nice to meet you, Krueger!" She says with a smile.

Her smile...

Oh he's fucked.

--

That was so long for no reason omg

I'm still trying to get used to writing like this- like full on fics? So this is like practice! Lol let me know what you think!

[l0chn3ss]

l0chn3ss update

I feel like the last time I ever really active on tumblr was in the year 2016, so i want to address my absence between 2017-2020. Part of it is because I feel like I owe it to my friends and mutuals who I just basically left on read and another part is because I’ve always treated this blog as a personal blog that documents my life and my growth. I put off writing this for a long time but now that I have a huge paper due, now is definitely the time.

You are welcome to skip but I will address a few hard hitting questions I feel should be answered, especially since I feel like I departed like an anti-hero of a bad tv show.

Where I am currently: I am in grad school to obtain a master’s in library and information science. I have a full time job at different middle school libraries, though I work from home now. I also tutor kids on the side to pay for my tuition because I basically make minimum wage. Quarantine messed with my head at first, but now I’m feeling much better and I’m trying to reconnect with friends and close a lot of loose ends.

TLDR: I took an extended break because tumblr mobile sucks and my laptop needed serious repairs. I made a huge migration away from social media in 2018. I prioritized my education and in-person connections, which fell to shit because of my fandom involvement in the past. I did not like the direction of the main fandom I participated in and knew that many of the people I once respected did not respect me in return/ Us versus them mentality. I recognized that I treated my life on tumblr too seriously and took petty drama personally. I am sporadically on tumblr now because I genuinely enjoy the social connection and because I still like running fandom events.

Yes, you can reblog this. I’d love for this narrative to be heard.

Long version: To preface this, this post is being written to give myself closure and because I really am procrastinating on my final big paper of this semester. I’ll be tackling on the points in the tldr in a longer narrative that will appear to be in an expository fashion, which I recognize will be a source of contention, but my intentions are to throw it onto the table so that I can be freed. I can let it go and move on. I’m no longer a 20 years old who cared too much of what other people think and will think; I think differing perspectives are important and I want to give myself a chance to say my piece. That and I recognize that I lost the audience that I once had, so I doubt this will be an issue at all. It’s been 4 or what ever years, let’s just not.

Back in 2015-2016 there was a huge back and forth between three groups of people in the SE fandom. The reason why I’m not listing out the name is because I don’t want this to show up in the tags. I’d say that the three groups could be seen as quite literally the soma shippers (mostly white, demi sexual girls), lgbt centric bloggers (very kid or star oriented, very fed up with soma), and the people who were deemed as alright to soma shippers (c r ona, ste inm arie, jac k im centric people). There was a constant (and understandable) tension between the first two groups while the third was like the weird cousin that everyone in the social circles liked because they sprinkled in soma for the masses. Don’t argue with me on this-- this was literally how the fandom was in 2015 and you know it.

The main issue was that one group felt that they were being inclusive towards identities and sexualities while the other felt that they were not. I remember that one of the arguments was that soma WAS an LGBT ship because people headcanonned the members to be demisexual. However, the other side of the argument was that it wasn’t good representation of a gay pairing. Now that we can look back at this 5 years later, I have two things to say: 1, I now very much understand why the argument broke out because of how heated the topic is, and I do believe that I lean more towards the “other side” now that I’m not wearing rose tinted glasses, but 2, I need to make it clear that demi people are lgbt, but a headcanon is not fact and ship diversity was the main question at hand, not the ship itself. This argument lasted for weeks, destroyed my friendships, and no matter what I felt I did in the moment (which was to mend the fandom), it was taken as an insult.

(Side note: Somethings that I remember was being in someone’s DM’s to encourage them to participate in the large fandom events more, but once they twisted my intentions and rallied their friends, I became their enemy. I also became the mods’ enemy but then again, when was I not? I was made fun of for saying “queergender,” a term that is now currently being widely used, quite openly by someone I wanted desperately to be friends with. I was outwardly mocked by popular users who only apologized behind closed doors but didn’t bother to clear things up with their followers. Adults who were in their 30s quite literally attacked a 19 year old. It was in that moment that I realized I would never become friends with either side, and not because I didn’t want to.)

I bring this up because as I begun to stop writing soma fics, I also begun to see and understand why people moved away from it. It wasn’t the ship itself, it was the culture surrounding it. However, on tumblr we have the ability to connect intensely with the content we produce. Therefore, the ship itself began to be connected with the shippers and their attitudes towards outside pairings-- that attitude being tied into elitism.

I say this with every ounce of love I can because I once had the exact same mannerism. When you become so tied into one pairing to the point where other ships appear to threaten the existence of it and you react negatively towards it, you become rancid. The popular tag “everything is soma” takes a very dark turn. Even if readers consume another pairing’s work, they will be obliged to say “I ship soma more BUT that was cute.” They will read an entirely different topic and wonder why soma wasn’t inserted into it in the background. They will reject pairings that separate the two as if breaking them up is sin and an insult.

The only reason why I stopped writing my soma fics in 2016 was because I saw a real need to fill in the gaps of other pairings. I took what people were saying to heart and I wanted to change my ways and my perceptions. I saw the animosity of the ship culture and rejected it. I wanted to use what little influence I had to make the fandom just a bit more accepting. In 2016, I don’t think the fandom was ready for it. In 2017, they still weren’t ready for it. In 2020, I see hope, but I wonder sometimes if it’s masqueraded pity because of previous treatment.

In the middle of it all, I went from being the soma angst master to becoming the weird person everyone once knew. I was the friend that people excluded from group chats and I just “wasn’t the same.” Cliques grew extremely large in power in 2017 and exclusion hurt like a bitch.

The straw that broke the camel’s back and completely shut me down was in 2017 when I was graduating as a bachelor. There was a fandom event that I decided to go all in to. For context, there used to be a huge debate on how many times a person should enter in an event, but in my mind, the more exposure the better. My graduation and the event took place at the exact same time, which was cool, but what hurt me was what happened after.

I was lucky enough to be accepted into field school (when you travel to do outdoor excavating) for my major. I’m an anthropologist-- it was an honor. I didn’t plan in advance for it, and if anything, I thought that I would be committed completely to the events and my 5 or what ever entries at the time. I’ve always prided myself in communicating with others, so I made sure to let my partners in the event know what was going on. I was so excited to be going on my first ever excavation and no one at the time said anything otherwise, in fact, they all seemed incredibly supportive. 

What I didn’t know was that I would be called out by name in the event feedback response by one person who felt that I didn’t take the event seriously enough and that I should’ve prioritized my time accordingly. Two of the mods let me know because it referred to me directly, though the name of the submitter was not included. It was not only a slap in the face, but a dumbfound moment that reminded me that wow, fandom content really is someone’s life out there. My enforced silence because of lack of internet in the woods actually upset someone and made them believe that I wronged them, because I put my real life ambitions first before a fandom event.

It was then when I woke up and I remember very clearly thinking to myself: I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want to treat my fandom life seriously. I want to participate in fandom for fun, not out of duty. I don’t want to prioritize this life because in the end, if I am hated for putting my work and education first, then I don’t want it.

(For context, I suspect that it was the same person who made a 200 note call out on me during the fandom tension. I respected this person immensely, but I also treated them like the flawed person I believe everyone is. I’m sure because of this, I’m pretty much trash in their eyes, which is totally fine. They have really cute cats so they can’t be all too bad. Don’t look into it too deeply.)

Once my month long field school was up, I was already used to not being on the internet or any of my social media accounts. I didn’t play my mobile games for a month. I didn’t read the news for a month. It was like going cold turkey on the internet, which reshaped my habits entirely. The only time that I had online within that time span was during the weekend, but I spent my time working on my projects and catching up with friends instead of being on apps.

I was also completely fed up with tumblr’s mobile app at the time, so one by one, I deleted my apps. Good bye to tumblr, snapchat, what little I used of instagram, twitter, everything. The only thing I kept was facebook, which was because it is the main platform that I use to message my boyfriend. That meant that any friends I retained from the fandom (who I still contact now) were also friends who had the chance to add me on facebook.

This was the cause of my 2 or 3 year hiatus on tumblr, and therefore the fandom. I occasionally checked back every 6 months to do a few fandom events, but I have several unopened messages and notifications that I haven’t been able to get to. I open my instagram for a few days once a year, and I only go onto twitter if my friends tell me (through facebook) that they dm’d me a post there.

When I left my online persona behind, I quickly strengthened my in person connections. New drama that erupted every other day became replaced with starbucks and boba runs. Reality TV shows replaced fanfiction. Text messages replaced the tumblr activity feed (which still doesn’t work on mobile BTW). I study at cafes unironically with friends instead of typing alone in my room. Overall, it opened my world considerably.

I still like making fun of myself and I try not to take myself seriously. I still make self depreciative memes to send to friends but then double up with kermit heart pics. I’m still a plot bunny, I still write my fics, I still watch my anime, I still play video games, I still sleep at 4am, I still take my depression medication, I still love potatoes, I still use my voice for people who can’t find theirs yet. But I think I’m in a much healthier mindset now, even if I still make stupid shifty posts calling out bad behavior.

Nowadays, I’m working on my Master’s degree in secret. My parents don’t know about it because my mom doesn’t like that I want to go out and do unladylike things like getting an education. I tutor kiddos and I’m really good with younger children, but I’m not going to do anything with kids because I just don’t want to. Instead, I want to work at an archive or a museum to bring my library interests and my anthropology background together. If I had my dream job, I would be a marine archaeologist; however I love my boyfriend of 8 years whom you probably all remember and I really came to terms with my grandeur dreams. I’m extremely happy with living in a small town with loved ones now, and I don’t need to move somewhere far away from my parents to be content. It’s a huge realization.

From 2018 to 2020 I got into actual drama in person while I was job hunting. Adult people suck and honestly it’s kind of embarrassing how ill equipped some people are. Even so, I currently work in middle schools as a media assistant. One of those realms is the library, and honestly it’s like fulfilling a prophecy. As much as I love the social aspect, public schools are an absolute train wreck.

I’m going to wrap this up now. This post is meant to help me close the past and move forward because the fandom culture feels different now. Things from several years ago don’t need to resurface. I want to enjoy my life fully, and fandom life is one of those aspects that I truly did enjoy. I’m going to keep using my voice and act like a fool, but I’m also not going to be losing sleep because of this. People are going to talk about you no matter what, whether positively or negatively, and it’s important to not take it personally.

Idk, go enjoy yourselves. Do things for yourself. It’s more fun that way.

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օռʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)

[writethelifeyouwant]

Mine

Summary: You tag along with Jensen to a convention and get to hang out on the sidelines during his solo photo op but you don’t particularly enjoy the experience – and you make sure Jensen knows that.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen x Omega!Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: omegaverse, jealousy, angst, smut Word Count: 2.5k Bingo Squares: @spnabobingo - Possessive Omega | @j3bingo - Possessive

Photo credit: @katbratsupernaturalwhore and Google - edit mine

Commissioned by: @synmorite - thanks so much for the prompt babe! Who doesn't love a little Alpha!Jensen? I think we can all sympathise with this one ❤️

If you'd like to get monthly commissions plus early access to all my stories, I only have three spots left in my Triple Tier ☕️

Your foot snaps against the linoleum tiles as yet another shell-shocked Omega girl is ushered away from your mate by a volunteer. All he’d done was hug her during the stupid photo and you could instantly smell the slick leaking into her panties. What an utter slut, you think derisively, checking your watch for what feels like the millionth time in the last half hour. Only ten more minutes left for the photo ops and then you get Jensen back to yourself. You can wait that long.

You think.

Looking up from your wrist to check the line again you see a guy at the front now, and watch curiously as he approaches Jensen, hand outstretched with confidence. This guy radiates Alpha. He also radiates ‘Winchester’, which you’re sure is by design. When he throws his arm around Jensen for their picture he looks like he could play Sam and Dean’s younger brother, or at least their cousin. You smile happily, thinking it’s nice to see guys here on their own and not just being dragged along behind deranged fangirls all intent on sleeping with your mate.

But your smile drops when you catch sight of Jensen’s fingers curling closely around the guy’s waist, burrowing into the flannel. And your stony expression turns murderous when you scent more pheromones in the air – distinctly Alpha ones. For fuck’s sake, is everyone at this convention trying to take your mate’s knot up the ass? At least they’re not Jensen’s scents, you try to comfort yourself as the fake Winchester files off only to be replaced by a new Omega girl who’s already leaking like a faucet from the smell of her. How does Jensen stand taking photos with this walking parade of raging hormones?

Deciding you can’t take another second of this onslaught to your olfactory senses you grab your phone off the table by the photographer’s equipment and turn to go. As you pick it up you catch sight of one of the monitors Chris is using to check the pictures before he sends the occupants off to collect them. On the screen you can see an image of Jensen and this simpering girl, Jensen clutching her to his chest, her head buried in his t-shirt. It would be a sweet photo if it didn’t make your blood boil. You storm off without looking back at Jensen, positive you can’t stomach the sight of another Omega in his arms right now.

Despite not telling him where you were going, your mate finds you in your hotel room relatively quickly after his photo op has ended.

“Hey baby,” Jensen’s arms wrap around your waist and he drops a kiss to the top of your head. “I didn’t see you leave, I missed you.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed. “I’m sure you were so lonely.” You can practically feel Jensen roll his eyes behind you. This isn’t a new argument, but you can’t help yourself.

“Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this,” Jensen groans. “I love the fans but none of them mean anything to me like that. None of them are you,” he squeezes your hand in his, pulling your chin up to look you in the eyes. You had tried not to let Jensen’s words melt your icy mood but staring into his eyes now, bright and earnest, starts to thaw you out.

“They all wanted you,” you complain. “It smelled like a strip club with all the pheromones flying around out there.”

“Hey, I can’t help my good looks,” Jensen laughs. “It’s why you love me, really.” He throws you a wink and you can’t help but giggle, smacking his chest lightly to show you haven’t totally forgotten your annoyance yet. “Baby, you know I’m yours, no matter how many crazy fangirls line themselves up – I will always be yours.” Jensen’s thumb brushes against the small scar at the base of your throat, his claim mark, and you shiver despite the heat of the day.

“Damn straight you’re mine.” Your hand closes over his, pressing his hand into your scar and pushing his fingertips to wrap around the back of your neck. “And I’m never gonna let you forget that mister.”

“Never dreamed you would,” he smiles and pulls you into a kiss.

You don’t want to let your agitated mood drop so quickly but it’s hard to stay mad when Jensen’s lips are on yours; when his hands are crushing you to his chest in such a complete demonstration of possession… when you feel his cock starting to harden behind his jeans. A groan slips past your lips when you catch the scent of his arousal, deep and smoky like that whiskey you always share on your anniversary, and you comfort yourself in the knowledge that amidst the sea of pheromones you’d been wading through downstairs, Jensen’s scent had never been present. His arousal was for you, and you alone.

“Fuck, you smell so good, baby,” you say against his lips, using his answering laugh as an opportunity to curl your tongue inside and around his own.

“What do I smell like, sweetheart?” Jensen pulls back with a wry smile, intent on teasing you.

“Like mine,” you growl, the word reverberating in your throat, seeping into your veins, into your skin. Jensen’s eyes darken, and an answering growl rumbles through his chest. You surge forward and push him back onto the bed, climbing over his body before he even has the chance to settle on the goose-feather comforter. “My Alpha,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck near his own mating gland and inhale, filling your lungs with him. Unconsciously, your teeth scrape over his throat and Jensen moans, his hips bucking into you insistently.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he moans, continuing to grind his hips up and into yours. “Yours ‘mega, all yours.” He pulls your lips back to his and you go willingly, letting him take the lead for a moment and devour you. Your world turns upside down when he pulls that trick he’s so proud of and spins you beneath him. You drag your hands down his body, feeling the bulge of his shoulders, his arms, tracing from his chest down to his hips and teasing your fingers under the hem of his t-shirt.

“Off,” you grunt into your kiss and he sits back, immediately confused.

“Everything okay?” Jensen checks worriedly and you roll your eyes.

“I meant take your shirt off, doofus, not ‘get off me’.”

“Oh. Good,” Jensen nods and pulls both his shirts off in one go, leaving you with a stunning view of his tanned and freckled torso. You reach your hands out to run them through the scattering of chest hair he’s let grow back in, and use it to yank him back down on top of you. “Ow!” he shouts, landing on your chest and glaring up at you.

“Mine,” is your only response as you drag his face back to yours. Jensen starts to tug on your clothes, forcing you apart to pull your top over your head, and you use the momentary distraction to unbalance him and shove him back onto the mattress so you can get on top again. You start at his throat, kissing and licking your way down over every inch of bare skin you can find, all while fumbling with his belt and the button on his jeans.

You finally manage to get his jeans open, and you pull yourself up so you can look him straight in the eye. “Mine,” you whisper again, dragging your nails down his chest hard enough to leave behind red streaks that fade just as quickly as they appear – only a temporary mark of your claim. You fingers dig into the waistbands of his remaining clothes and you begin to peel them down his legs, still never breaking eye contact. Jensen’s cock lands on his stomach, twitching as you once again dig your nails into his skin on your journey downwards.

When you’ve discarded the last of his clothes you quickly strip out of your own and rejoin him on the bed, this time kissing your way up his legs instead of down his chest, all the while chanting “mine”. You want to mark him with it, press it into his skin, inject it into his veins. He’s your drug, and you want to be his. At the point where his thigh meets his hip you pause, tongue and teeth seeking out the softest part of him. You concentrate your violence on this one spot, drawing the blood to the surface and staining him with your ardour. From the corner of your eye you see his cock twitch again, a small trail of slick spilling onto his skin.

You’re drawn to the shine, mouth watering as you scoop the head of his cock between your lips with nothing but your tongue. Jensen’s moan echoes down his body and you feel it where your head is resting against his hip. You pull off a little and lick around and around the tip, pressing your tongue to the spot just under the head that makes him tense up every time you touch it.

You sit up, and use your hand instead of your mouth, massaging the same skin you just left nice and slick. Finding that one spot again you squeeze a little, loving the feeling of his cock jumping in your hand. You roll your thumb across it, pressing the tip of your nail against him and Jensen’s eyes shoot open with a surprised whine bleeding through his lips.

“Fucking hell woman,” he sort of laughs, but it dies in his throat in favour of another moan when you press your nail in again.

“Mine,” you grin, and then you bend to suck him as far down your throat as you can. Jensen’s big, and you never manage to take him all the way down, but you can feel the stirrings of a knot starting to press up into the base of his cock and your lips can just about make it that far. You bring your hand up to wrap around the length that doesn’t fit, massaging the growing bulge that you can feel working it’s way higher. You know if you want him to be able to get his knot inside you, you need to work quickly. Pulling off with a gasp you place one last lick right over his slit, making him hiss from the sensitivity.

You shift your hips so they're hovering directly over his and drop down, running his cock through the slick that’s positively dripping from your folds. You ride the flat of his dick, leaning down so the head catches on your clit every time you bump past it, small gasps escaping your lips with every touch.

“Anytime you wanna put it in baby, just let me know,” Jensen pants, grabbing handfuls of your ass in an effort to get more pressure where he wants it. You giggle, happy that your ploy to make him desperate for you is working.

“Oh believe me,” you purr, dropping a small kiss to his lips, “I intend to use every inch of what’s mine.” You lift your hips and reach down to grab hold of him, lining up to sink back on top of him. You both groan at the feel of him sliding inside of you, your pussy squeezing around him with every beat of your pulse.

“Well, good thing you’ve got a lot of inches to work with then,” Jensen grins cockily, and you give him a long, suffering stare.

“Don’t make me question our entire relationship. I’m trying to enjoy myself here.”

“Don’t let me stop you, baby girl,” Jensen smiles even wider until you squeeze yourself around him as hard as you can and he chokes on a moan.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk, and you start to move your hips on top of him earnestly. Your thighs start to burn quickly with your punishing pace but you keep fucking him hard and fast. He feels so fucking good inside you, stretching your walls more and more as his knot continues to grow and you fight to sink it inside of you. Jensen is meeting you thrust for thrust, pistoning his hips up into yours, his feet wedged into the mattress under his knees to give himself more leverage. The angle is doing wonders for your impending orgasm.

“That’s it baby girl, keep fuckin’ me,” Jensen growls, fingers pressing into the meat of your hips so tightly you know it will leave a bruise, and you’re again struck with the desire to mark him too. “Look so fucking pretty, just using my cock to get yourself off. This what you wanted when you made me yours? Just after a dick you could claim as your own?”

“Fuck, Jensen,” you whine, feeling yourself nearing the edge as his knot presses harder against your entrance.

“You gonna cum ‘mega? Cum all over your Alpha���s cock?”

“Shit, yes, Jensen, yes!” A ragged scream leaves you as he shoves his knot inside of your cunt and you come undone around him, the extra stretch exactly what you needed to pull your finish out of you.

“Fuck baby, so hot,” he gasps, breathless as he continues to fuck into you with sharp, solid thrusts. “Cum on this cock of yours, ‘mega, all yours.” Growling, Jensen stills suddenly, back arched and rigid, eyes screwed up tight. You can feel his knot pop inside of you, cum shooting deep and warm into your body. You close your eyes too, basking in the pleasant feeling of being so thoroughly connected to someone.

When Jensen’s muscles ease and his hips start to droop you follow him back down to the bed, curling against his chest as he hugs you to him, pressing little kisses to the top of your head while he catches his breath. “I love you Y/N,” he sighs happily, rubbing his hand absentmindedly up and down your back. You grin into his chest, snuggling in closer and pressing a kiss of your own into his skin.

“Love you too, Jay,” you smile. Jensen’s thumb finds your claiming scar again, brushing over it back and forth, soothingly.

“You know,” he starts, thinking out loud, thumb still playing across the base of your throat. “There’s one way you could really make sure everyone knows I’m yours. The way everyone knows you’re mine.” You look up to him, surprised, understanding immediately what he means.

“Really?” you ask skeptically. “You want me to claim you?” A swoop of delight dances through your stomach at the thought of putting something that visible on him.

“Why not? As you’ve been so eloquently putting it all night, I’m already yours. Why shouldn’t people be allowed to see that?”

“Because the make-up girls will murder me,” you giggle, fingertips splayed over his neck where a claiming mark would go.

“Screw ‘em,” Jensen shrugs, eyes sparkling. You nod slowly, letting the feeling of euphoria sink in as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. You kiss, and lick and tease against his skin, letting your teeth out to scrape against the vein you can practically hear pulsing beneath the surface. With a deep breath you draw back your lips and bare your teeth, whispering between you as you bite down.

“Mine.”

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[anne-i-write]

sweet love

| who would have known that the local bakery could get sebastian to show his soft spot |

sebastian moran x reader

word count: 3609

tw: sexual implications but no actual spice (mostly from sebastian’s “flirting”)

a/n: a little new years gift from me to all of you! i’m sorry it took so long to get another post up but i enjoyed writing this one! hopefully sebastian isn’t too ooc in this idk ig i just have a thing for making characters ooc but it’s very sweet and possibly tooth rotting. i also realize that i got carried away making this one and now you can read through my brain rot lol. ALSO APPARENTLY HES 6’6 THE MAN COULD ABSOLUTELY PUNT ME WHAT anyhow, i hope you all enjoy!! p.s. if you see grammatical errors and incoherent sentences, i just copy pasted from google docs lmao good luck

Sebastian grumbled under his breath, annoyed with the work that William had him do.

“‘Those who do not work in this house aren’t treated as people.’” Sebastian scoffed as he glanced over at the list. “Louis should be glad I’m on good terms with William.”

The ex-colonel should’ve been back at the estate an hour ago but he felt somewhat spiteful and decided to stay out longer. He had finished everything he needed but he had no clue what to do. It was already lunch and his stomach was silently growling but he refused to face the brothers just yet.

That was until he stopped in front of a quaint bakery with the words Fox’s Biscuits painted on a hanging sign.

“Isn’t this…” He looked at the bakery window, mouthwatering biscuits on display for everyone to see.

“These are the biscuits Father bought for me when I was younger.”

Longing for a sense of his childhood, Sebastian walked into the small shop.

In an instant, the sickly sweet smell of chocolate hit his nose and the bell above the door rang out. It was a small space but one could feel the dedication put into the little treats. “Hello?” Sebastian called out as soon as he realized he had been alone for at least two minutes.

“Just a moment!”

Crashes and clangs could be heard from behind a door that presumably led to a kitchen. You burst through the door, your apron stained with chocolate and your right cheek was covered in a light dust of flour.

Sebastian stared at you with wide eyes, not sure if he should focus on the disorderly ruin that was yourself or the absolute charm that you carried. “You have a little something—” He pointed to his cheek and your cute eyes widened a smidge.

You frantically turned around, swiping at both cheeks and turning around when you felt like you were clean. “How may I help you today?”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat when you smiled widely, his cheeks feeling a little flush. He shook his head.

“Those biscuits by the door; how much are they?” You took a step to the side to see which one he was talking about. “Oh, it’s 10 shillings for each one.” You informed him, walking to the stacked treats with a cloth in hand. “How many would you like?”

A sly grin painted Sebastian’s features and he turned to face you. “3 pieces please.” You barely picked up the second biscuit before you felt a presence looming behind you. “Perhaps, I can have you too if I pay extra.” He whispered in your ear.

Heat spread across your face as you quickly shoved the rest of the biscuits in the small bag. You shoved the biscuits his way and held out your other hand expectantly. “Th-That’s 30 shillings!” You cursed the way you stuttered.

Sebastian laughed at your flustered state as he handed you the payment. He shot you a teasing glance.

“I can’t bake very well but I can show you how good I am with my hands.” Your eyes widened again at the implication and you shoved him towards the exit.

“Thank you for coming to our bakery!” You breathed out a sigh of relief. One patron down… only many more to come.

The ex-colonel swung the bag leisurely as he strode into the manor, forgetting about lunch. “Where were you, Sebastian?” Louis asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Getting myself food.”

The bell rang in your little family shop and you smiled, heading out to greet the next customer with freshly baked biscuits in hand.

“Good afternoon–” Your smile dropped when you realized who came into the bakery.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” Sebastian cooed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you not wish I would come back?”

“I wish you never came at all.” The man stilled for a moment but laughed when you walked past him to restock the display case. “You were here yesterday, were you not?” He turned to see you carefully placing the treats on the platter. “Yes but I’m here to buy more of those delicious biscuits you sell.”

Sebastian stalked closer to you just as you spun around to point the tray in his face. “Personal space, please.” He raised his hands in resignation and backed up. You walked back to the counter to place the warm tray on top. “You weren’t complaining yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect yesterday. Now, how many biscuits would you like?” Before he opened his mouth, you continued. “And buy enough so I don’t have to see you again.”

Sebastian laughed again, enjoying your quips. “You seem very spirited today, m’love.” You rolled your eyes. “Either you buy something or you can get out of the shop.” The man walked towards you but you stood your ground this time, arms crossed.

“Your biscuits are delicious but I bet you taste even better.” Your face heated up and Sebastian grinned. “Th-The way out is right behind you.”

Why do I always stutter?

“You’re adorable when you get shy on me.” You shot him a pointed glare and he chuckled. “I’ll have the whole display.” Sebastian thoroughly enjoyed the way your shy attitude appeared when he spoke.

“Th-The whole—” Sebastian chuckled and leaned on a nearby wall. “Yes, sweetheart; the whole case.” Of course, you needed the money but could the man even afford it?

“Th-That’s 100 shillings.” Sebastian took another glance at the display and shook his head. “Come now sweetheart, all of that is at least 600 shillings.” You shook your head.

“600 shillings is too much!” The thought of even getting mad at his previous words flew out of your head as he insisted on paying the full price. “Please, I’ll lower the price.”

Sebastian smiled as he reached into his coat and pulled out a satchel of coins. “It must have taken a painstakingly long time to make all those biscuits, it’s only right I pay you in full.” He placed the bag on the counter and you slid it back towards him. “I don’t have time to count 100 shillings! Please, that would be more than enough.”

This continued on for another ten minutes before he finally got you to settle on paying half of the original price.

“Enjoy your biscuits!” You called out to him just as the door barely closed behind him. Thankfully the door had a large glass pane and he turned around, offering a small wave before walking off.

You watched as he left the front of the shop and your eyes drifted to the empty display case.

“What in God’s name happened.”

Sebastian was aware that the last time he saw you was the other day, but he did comprehend that coming back the day after buying 60 biscuits would look rather odd. Telling Louis he had to run an errand in the town, the ex-colonel set off to your little bakery. Considering how empty it was the last two times he saw you, Sebastian expected it to be the same.

What he didn’t expect was a large crowd that seemed too big to be inside of the bakery.

Sebastian carefully opened the door and was greeted with the bustling sound of people chatting as they waited for their treats. Being the tall man he was, he searched for you in the crowd until he saw you rush out of the kitchen with your hair a complete mess.

“Thank you for being so patient, have a great day!” You said breathlessly and the patron nodded, wishing you well before leaving. They passed by Sebastian and he watched as they left the shop. He turned his attention back to you, who wore the same smile that made his heart stutter as you helped the next customer.

God only knows how long Sebastian was in the shop but the last customer left and you slumped against the counter. “Is that how you hold yourself in front of your patrons?” You groaned and he laughed.

“You bought 60 biscuits the other day and I still have to make the next batch, why are you back?” You glanced up at him and he shrugged. “Can I not wait for the biscuits?” You kept staring at him and he shot you a questioning glance.

“I can give you an estimated time for when the biscuits are done.” You yawned as you stood up and stretched. “I saw you come in a while ago, do you not have anywhere to be?”

Sebastian leaned against the counter and sighed. “Not today.”

Not having the energy to make him leave, you simply walked back into the kitchen and he watched as the door swung behind you.

It had been three minutes since you disappeared behind the doors and Sebastian was about to leave before you emerged from the kitchen. “If you’re staying until I make the next batch, then I want you to try this.” You said as you place down a small plate with two chocolate covered biscuits. “My father doesn’t know about these so I want to see if these taste good.” He took a glance at the plate and looked up at you.

“You couldn’t try them yourselves?” He asked as you stood across from him, arms folded. “I’d be favored to like them because I made them.” A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other.

“They’re not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” An impressed look crossed Sebastian’s face as he picked up the biscuit and ate it. You watched closely as the man in front of you chewed your creation. “Is that jam and cream?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s indecent.” Sebastian snorted as he took another bite. “You sound like my mum.” You smiled softly as he started to reach for the second one.

“Keep staring like that, I might have to eat something else.” He said as he winked at you.

“Y-You—!”

Sebastian’s visits became routine and each time he came in, your day got a little better. You scoffed. Like you would ever tell him that.

“Darling!” Sebastian called out as he opened the door. “You know, I don’t even know your name and you’ve been coming here for two weeks.” You stated as you cleaned down the counter.

“Aw, you want to put a name to a face so you can moan it tonight?” He cooed and you slammed your towel down, flustered. “O-One day without suggesting those things! I-Is that too much to ask?” Sebastian laughed and you went back to furiously wiping down the counter.

He smiled as he walked towards you and placed his hand on yours. “If you keep scrubbing like that, the wood will wear down.” You sighed and relaxed your grip on the washing cloth. “Your hands are warm.” You said and he chuckled.

“The cloth’s gone cold.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t realize.” Sebastian snorted and took the cloth out of your hands. “Here.” He took both of your hands and held them in his, breathing out slowly on them. He looked at you, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes.

If you were working yourself that much, he would make you take this short break to relax.

You looked up at your hands and suddenly felt shy at the intimate contact. “(Y/N),” you muttered, looking away.

Sebastian glanced up at you and huffed softly. “Sebastian.” You continued to let him warm up your hands.

A serene silence fell over the two of you as he exhaled softly on your hands.

That was until your sister barged into the shop, back from the market. “(Y/N)!” All three of you paused as you stared at each other. You watched as your sister’s eyes traveled from yours to your intertwined hands and you instantly flared up.

“I was just handing him biscuits!” You yelped, yanking your hands out of Sebastian’s. You looked at him and nodded your head towards the exit. “Thank you so much for coming!” Sebastian grinned and he leaned in closer to you. “I’ll come back for you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He knew he said this loud enough for you sister to hear. “Good day!” He smiled innocently, nodding to the girl by the door and walked out.

You watched as he left, not noticing your sister walking up and taking her place next to you. She watched with you as Sebastian walked away and took note of the subtle starry gaze in your eyes.

“Now I understand why you always want to watch the shop.”

You fidgeted as Sebastian walked into the shop once again. What was this? His 40th time at the shop? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

I will ask him!

“What’s troubling you, sweetheart?” Even through the teasing tone, you could hear some worry and you just decided to spit it out.

“Would you like to accompany me to the moorish dance tonight?” Sebastian’s eyes widened as you stared up at him with unintentionally large eyes. The man knew he had a persona to hold in front of you but felt himself failing as he struggled to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.

“Only if you’ll accompany me to my bed tonight.” He watched as your eyes narrowed and you puffed out your chest, crossing your arms. “Forget I asked.” He laughed as you turned away from him. “I’m just playing around!” You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned away again.

“You’re pouting!”

“No I’m not!”

You two continued to bicker until he apologized, albeit through laughs. “I’m serious though, Sebastian.” He looked at you with a fond smile and he exhaled.

“I’d be honored.” You turned to face him with the same smile you used when you first greeted him, except this time it was wider and you looked like you were about to bounce over the counter. “But I really thought I would be the first to ask you.”

“Let customs lay themselves to rest for a bit, Sebastian.”

The dance was some time later at night so you decided to close shop early and walk around the town with Sebastian.

He had never seen you so talkative before and it was very interesting to see you speak without having to put him in his place every five minutes.

“So, do you and your sister run the bakery by yourselves?” Sebastian asked as you walked down the bustling road. “Lately. My father had been overworking himself so my sister and I decided to take over for him.” You smiled as a girl ran past your legs, her little brother following shortly after.

He watched on with a fond look as you continued talking about the bakery and all the baking mishaps that made you the person you were today. “That sounds like it requires a lot of effort.” You chuckled as you reached a secluded tree, not too far from the town but enough to be alone.

“It does, but the son of my father’s friend likes to help from time to time.” The sound of a possible competitor peaked his interest and sat down beside you on the grass. “The son of your father’s friend?” You nodded as you stared at the town and leaned on the tree.

“He’s a wonderful boy, very enthusiastic about helping me and my sister.” You turned to face him with an excited expression. “Oh, I’ll introduce you at the dance later! He’s helping the men set up but we should be able to see him!” The alpha male in Sebastian refused to let himself lose the one good thing he could possibly have in his life.

“You hid the whole jar?”

“Mrs. Pettor makes the best jams! I wasn’t going to let my family finish it!” Sebastian laughed as you defended yourself.

It was almost time for the dance and you both were walking to the town center.

“I’ve been talking all this time.” You realized and you turned to Sebastian. “Tell me more about—” You cut yourself off with a squeak as you were lifted off of your feet.

Sebastian watched as a blonde boy swung you around. “A-Alexander!” The boy put you down, a grin on his face.

The blond boy looked at you and you smiled back before Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, right!” You turned to face Sebastian and grinned. “Alexander, this is Sebastian! Sebastian, Alexander!” The shorter man held out his hand, blue eyes instantly hardening.

“Hello Sebastian,” Alexander said as Sebastian shook his hand. “Alexander.” You looked between the two and felt a tense aura emanating from them before you clapped your hands.

“Shall we go to the dance?” Alexander let go of Sebastian’s hand and immediately faced you. “Of course!” The blond grabbed your hand and you were barely able to get ahold of Sebastian’s before Alexander took off running.

Cheers and music filled the air and the sound of shoes hitting stone echoed throughout the streets. Despite knowing most of the faces, you spent most of your time talking with Sebastian about stories from each of your lives.

“(Y/N)!” You turned your head and saw Alexander heading towards you, out of breath and sweaty from dancing. You excused yourself from the conversation and Alexander stopped in front of you. “I never did thank you for working more than you should have these last few days.” You laughed as you waved him off. “It’s nothing you should thank me for, Alexander. My sister helped so it wasn’t all bad.”

Alexander took a glance at Sebastian, who had been mobbed by most of the town women and looked like he was trying to hold his own. “Would you like to dance?” His question caught you off guard. “I invited Sebastian, I couldn’t leave him…” You turned to see a group of girls crowding around the man and your smile faltered. “One dance wouldn’t hurt.”

“Sebastian!” He looked up from the group of girls and saw you waving. He was about to move until he saw your hand in Alexander’s. “I’m going to dance for a bit!” You laughed as Alexander pulled you to the dance area. Alexander chuckled at you as you told Sebastian of your whereabouts. At least you had the decency to tell him you were dancing with another man.

“So how’d you meet Sebastian?” Alexander asked as you danced to the music. “He came into the shop one day and just kept visiting!” You smiled and the boy in front of you exhaled softly, deciding to drop the topic and talk to your sister about it later.

The former colonel no longer focused on the girls in front of him as he watched you laugh hard at something Alexander said and his heart beat faster in his chest. Out of jealousy or awe, he couldn’t tell. But the way your eyes shone under the golden glow of the street lamps told him to move and get you.

He pushed his way through the crowd of ladies and kept his eyes trained on your carefree figure. Your skin looked so beautiful under this light, maybe you were the one who lit up the town. Your smile alone had enough energy to do so anyway.

“May I have a dance with (Y/N)?” Sebastian asked as he reached you and Alexander. The blond man smiled and your eyes sparkled in delight. “Of course.” Alexander gently let go of your hand and placed it in Sebastian’s.

“Thank you Alexander!” You called out and he turned around, sending you a soft smile and a small wave before walking towards your sister.

You turned your gaze back to Sebastian and you grinned. “Did you get jealous?” Sebastian scoffed before shaking his head. “I don’t get jealous.” You laughed as you felt Sebastian pull you closer. “I saw you looking at Alexander like he was going to steal me away.” You pointed out with a smug smile.

“He did steal you away.” You grinned at him.

“You’re pouting.”

“N-No I’m not!” You laughed and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. “Aw, you’re adorable when you get shy on me!” You cooed, using the exact same words he said to you a while back.

“You—” He picked you up by the waist and you squealed as he lifted you up. “You think you’re so smart.” He muttered as he placed you back down and you looked up at him, your skin shining from sweat and short breaths leaving your lips.

He instantly leaned in, placing a short kiss on your lips and your eyes widened before trying to chase him before he pulled away. “You do taste better than your biscuits.” You buried your head in Sebastian’s chest in embarrassment and he laughed as he started to lead the dance once more.

“Because of that, I’m charging you the rest of the 60 biscuits you bought.” Sebastian feigned hurt. “But that’s too much!” You rolled your eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m sure if you don’t want to pay, Louis can help me find something for you to do to pay me back.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and you giggled at the sour look on his face. “I’m sure you can help around the shop to pay them off, if you don’t want Louis to get involved.” His eyes softened before gently grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss to it.

“If it means I get to see you everyday, it will have been worth it.”

tags: @zoehanji @infinitebells

[wanderingalien142]

His Scientist

Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: Fluffy Zemo taking care of his partner

Warnings: pronouns used: They/them (let me know if any others were used), fluffy... that’s it...

Word Count: 845

Translations: Liebling= darling, Schatz= Sweetheart (if wrong blame google translate lol) 

Side note(s): This is my first completed fan fiction and I thought screw it someone might enjoy this like I’ve enjoyed others so on the off chance at least one person does this is for you! You beautiful/ handsome human! It was also written in one night... so I apologize for any grammatical errors no one has proof read it soooo yeah... enjoy!

Zemo’s POV:

I walked by the study with a mug of tea in hand. I had trouble sleeping so I had gone to read in the living room by a small fire. It had gone out not long ago, now in the early hours of the morning I know why I had trouble sleeping. Seeing the light seep through the crack at the bottom of the door I lightly pushed it open. 

Walking up to the desk I set down my mug on one of the papers that had been scattered across the desk. Some contain handwritten notes, some formulas, graphs, diagrams, and many other things I don’t quite understand. A couple books on the right side of the desk are open. Some closed with bookmarks of more notes sticking every which way out of the books that were stacked on the desk and even some on the floor. An empty mug of presumably coffee to the left and empty plate with crumbs from a quick snack of which I’m sure is the only thing they’ve eaten. A lamp is on the left corner of the desk hanging above the cup and plate. I turn it off and rest my hand on the person who’s fallen asleep in the middle of the papers with pencil in one hand and book in the other. 

Taking the book I leave it open on the page knowing there’d be hell to pay had I closed it. Resting my hand on their shoulder I bend down and kiss their head. Smiling gently at how relaxed they are, it's rare to see but it remains to be one of my favorite things to behold. Opting out of waking them up I reach down and pick them bridal style leaning their head against my shoulder. 

I nudge the door open with my foot and walk them down the hall to get some proper sleep in bed. (y/n) had been overworking themselves on a new scientific theory as usual. Laying them down I did my best to move the covers without waking them. (y/n) then raised their hips and legs so I could get the covers over them.

“How long have you been awake liebling?” I asked grinning. 

“Since you walked into the study. Also you left your tea on the desk.” (y/n) said eyes closed grinning. They cuddled up into the covers and turned over. I simply chuckled of course they knew and I simply left the room going to get the forgotten mug. “Don’t forget to turn off the light Helmut!”

(Y/N)’s POV: 

I heard the door creak open and shut gently. The tea mug was set down on Helmut’s night stand and I heard him hang up his robe. Pulling back the covers he slid into bed. Instantly I cuddled into his chest and sighed much more comfortable than I had been on the desk. He wrapped his arms around me and left another kiss on my head. 

“Thank you for getting me.” I whispered as not to disturb the calmness that had settled like dimming lights upon us. 

“Anytime schatz. But you know you need to stop overworking yourself, or at least eat properly.” 

“I know but you also have no room to talk. You do the same thing and you know it.” 

“I know but that’s no excuse for you.” He chuckled. It was a nice sound and comforting to hear. I smiled hearing him and feeling how his body slightly shook and how his arms wrapped around me a little tighter. 

I yawned sleep taking hold once again after working my brain all day. “Thank you for leaving the book I had open, I was afraid of losing my train of thought.”

“I knew you’d be mad had I closed it. I honestly don’t know how you keep track of any of your research in that mess.”

“We all work differently, you’d probably go mad trying to follow how my brain jumps around.” He chuckled again and I felt him nod. 

“But you had better hope that mug didn’t leave a mark on the paper you set it on.” I felt him tense up a little. I laughed and yawned once more. 

“If so, I'll make it up to you liebling-” This promise caused you to break away a little bit and look up at him smiling, an idea had already come to mind. 

“But I will not be an experiment for you.” Helmut finished having read your mind.

“You never want me to have any fun.” You complained frowning. You had suggested he help you with a theory in which he would be an experiment years ago. He had agreed but quickly backed out saying he was joking realizing you were only partly joking. It has been a joke of yours ever since then. 

“Right now I want you to sleep.” Leaning in, he kissed you. And pulled you back into his chest. “Goodnight my little scientist.”

“Goodnight my baron.” I sighed and fell asleep to get some proper rest.

[hansolmates]

jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation.  pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity  w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet​ BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write! 

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.” 

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach. 

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason. 

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs. 

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy. 

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache. 

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud. 

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long? 

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?” 

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly. 

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong. 

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon. 

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook. 

You scream. 

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—” 

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!” 

“Well… is he at least cute?” 

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!” 

“Tasteful nudes.” 

“I’m gonna die.” 

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.” 

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates. 

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM. 

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?” 

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.” 

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot. 

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram. 

Of course, he’s stupid hot. 

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well. 

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more. 

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend. 

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league. 

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on. 

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen. 

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen. 

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?” 

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot. 

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?” 

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?” 

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.” 

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!” 

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.” 

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?” 

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance. 

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing. 

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.” 

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures. 

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.” 

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something. 

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie. 

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.” 

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.” 

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy. 

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really. 

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing. 

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?” 

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.” 

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment. 

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film. 

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic. 

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?” 

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.” 

“You think right.” 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair. 

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?” 

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.” 

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier. 

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot. 

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud. 

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes. 

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container. 

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?” 

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display. 

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”  

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?” 

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.” 

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation. 

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.” 

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking. 

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.” 

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.” 

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.” 

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize. 

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.” 

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.” 

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.” 

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?” 

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.” 

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.” 

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you. 

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down. 

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks. 

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts. 

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed. 

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ??? 

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird. 

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture. 

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today. 

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.” 

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.” 

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.” 

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.” 

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?” 

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.” 

You choke on your saliva. 

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?” 

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.” 

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?” 

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!” 

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.” 

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.” 

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.” 

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off. 

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?” 

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?” 

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.” 

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.” 

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens. 

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists. 

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger. 

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine. 

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.” 

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.” 

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?” 

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.” 

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag. 

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio. 

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony. 

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him. 

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.” 

“It was.” 

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table. 

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.” 

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.” 

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity. 

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die. 

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more. 

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.” 

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them. 

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.” 

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists. 

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset. 

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself. 

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.” 

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.” 

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink. 

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set. 

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.” 

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.” 

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?” 

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that. 

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?” 

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?” 

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.” 

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself. 

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.” 

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.” 

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.” 

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame. 

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home. 

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead. 

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade. 

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?” 

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this. 

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.” 

[eliselovely]

Canine Matchmaker

Words: 2819

Warnings: p in v sex, oral (f receiving), they don’t really know each other in this, stranger danger irl but this is fiction

New Years Eve night was usually a night spent with friends, getting drunk and eating way too much snack food while waiting for midnight. Not for you though, you were happy to make yourself dinner, pour yourself a glass of wine and cuddle up on the couch with your dog to watch movies. The first two steps of that plan had gone well, and you had just let Basil, your pitbull shelter dog outside. You wait a few minutes before checking on her, she usually finishes her business pretty quickly in the winter time, not wanting to stay out in the cold for too long. However, tonight she was taking longer than usual. Going over to your patio door, you look around your backyard but you don’t see her.

“Basil, come here girl!” you call for her, stepping outside. You take a moment to listen for the jingling of her collar but you don’t hear anything. “Basil come!” Again nothing.

There was a snowstorm that was just beginning, and you were starting to fear that she had gotten out of the yard. If that was the truth, then you’d be in for a stressful night. The temperature outside was hovering around freezing, which meant that the roads would be coated with slick ice and the holiday meant that it was unlikely that the city would send out many plows. If you were going to drive in search of Basil, it had to be soon. Triple checking the yard, just in case, you find the fence gate slightly ajar, the last piece of evidence you needed to be sure you were making the right decision to get in your car.

“Fuck,” you grumble, going back inside to get your purse and keys. Donning a pair of snow boots and a heavy coat you head out to your car.

As almost an afterthought, you text a few of your neighbors to see if they’d keep an eye out for her. Driving slowly, you start to circle the neighborhood, going block by block making sure to be careful around corners, the roads getting more and more slippery by the minute. Visibility was also rapidly decreasing as the heavy snow continued to fall. You had just started to panic when you got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” you answer, trying to keep your voice from shaking in panic.

“Hi,” comes a male voice, “I think I found your dog, this number was on her collar.”

“Yes! Oh my god, is she ok?” you ask.

“Yeah, yeah, she was shivering pretty badly, but I gave her some water and she’s settled on my couch under a blanket.” the man said.

“Oh thank god,” you breathe out. “Can you text me your address so I can come pick her up?”

“Definitely,” he confirms. “Drive safe, it’s getting pretty bad out there.”

“Thank you,” you say and hang up.

As soon as the man’s text comes through with his address, you punch it into google maps and you’re on your way. You pull up to your destination a few minutes later, a quiet stretch of townhomes just a few miles from your home. You sent him a quick ‘I’m here’ text and hurried up to the front door. The man who answers your knock had to be the most attractive man you had seen in real life, and in other circumstances, you would have flirted.

“Hi,” he greets. “Please, come in. Basil is in the living room, she’s pretty worn out.”

Kicking the snow off your boots, you step inside. As if she could sense your presence, Basil comes trotting into the entryway causing you to drop to your knees, giving your previously lost companion as much affection as you could. 

“Hi baby,” you say to her, turning your head away from her attempts to lick your face. “Hi, yes thank you, I missed you too. You worried me naughty girl.”

You hear the man chuckle lightly at your one sided conversation, you had almost forgotten he was there. 

“Thank you so much for taking care of her,” you say, standing up again to face him.

“Absolutely no problem. I’m Frankie by the way, Frankie Morales,” he says, offering a hand for you to shake.

You shake his hand and introduce yourself in return. The two of you make small talk for a short while, and when you do leave, you find the snow storm has picked up considerably, roughly an inch and a half of fresh, wet snow.

“Shit,” you breathe. “Driving is going to suck.”

“If you want,” Frankie starts, “if you want, you can wait it out here and see if it lets up a bit, the plows will be out soon and make driving a whole lot easier.”

“If you don’t mind, that would be great,” you say. “But I am going to send my location to some friends just in case you’re a psycho or something.”

Frankie chuckles again. “I’d expect nothing less. You want a drink or something?

The two of you end up in his living room, chatting easily and flirting over a few beers, Basil comfortably dozing between you. Your thoughts start to wander to what you would do if you had met Frankie at a bar, how you probably would have chatted him up, or maybe he would have beaten you to it. You don’t realize you’ve zoned out until you hear his voice, calling you back to the present.

“Hey, you still with me?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say. “Just got lost in thought is all.”

“What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

“Not to answer a question with a question, but can I say something sort of forward?”

“Shoot.”

“You can totally stop me if I’m overstepping, feel free to kick me out if yo-.”

“Hermosa, what is it?”

You take a second to pluck up the rest of your courage, flushing at the nickname he called you.

“If we had met at a bar, I would have invited you home with me,” you confess, flicking your eyes up to meet his heavy gaze.

“Oh yeah?” he encourages, obviously knowing exactly what he was doing. “What would we have done?”

“I would have had you fuck me until I couldn’t walk,” you say bluntly, leaving the pleasantries until you had your response. Frankie didn’t respond at first, just took a sip of his beer never breaking eye contact.

“And what about here?” he finally says. “What if I were to invite you upstairs so I could do just that?”

“Well then, I think I’d tell you to show me a damn good time,” you say.

Frankie slowly leans forward to set his beer on the coffee table, taking yours from your grasp and doing the same. He stood in front of you, offering his hand to help you up. His touch is gentle as he places a large hand on the side of your cheek, taking a small step closer as he presses his lips to yours. You had barely a moment to bask in the feel before the two of you were being startled apart by Basil letting out a particularly loud snort in her sleep.

“I think that’s her way of telling us to get a room,” you joke, giggling lightly.

“If you say so,” he says, and before you have a chance to comprehend what he said, you are being swept off your feet into his arms, one strong arm around your back and the other under your knees. He gives you another quick kiss before starting up the stairs, presumably towards his bedroom.

He gently sets you down on the soft down comforter, giving you the first real kiss of the night. One you can truly take your time to enjoy, it’s slow and passionate, but with an undercurrent of obvious lust. You feel his tongue swipe at your bottom lip, politely asking for permission to do more. You gladly open for him, loving the taste of his mouth. 

“Frankie,” you moan into his mouth, your brain no longer being able to form full thoughts.

“You want more Hermosa?” he asks, hands sliding down to caress and squeeze your breast making you arch into his touch. “Yeah?”

“Please,” you whine, embarrassed at how desperate you sound.

“Alright Sweetheart, I’ll give you more,” he promises, pulling you upright again to pull your sweatshirt over your head and tossing it somewhere to be found later. “My god you’re gorgeous,” he says running his hands across your bare skin, reaching around you to unclasp your bra. He lays you back down again, attaching his warm mouth to one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other one.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe out. 

You feel his grin against your skin, delighting in giving you pleasure. Pulling his mouth off with a pop, he moves further down, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off along with your panties.

“Damn, I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he says.

“I know a better use for that motor mouth of yours,” you tease in a moment of clarity. You hold his gaze as you slide your legs open further, exposing your dripping core to him.

“So fucking sexy,” he all but moans.

Leaning down again, he kisses your lips, and from there leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down your chest and abdomen. Placing a kiss to each thigh, sending you a wink before licking a thick stripe through your folds up to your clit, sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves between his lips, his short facial hair scraping against your inner thighs.

“Ah, yes Frankie,” you moan.

Without warning, he sinks his index finger into your pussy causing your hips to buck up into his mouth in response. You card your fingers through his hair and hold him tightly to your sensitive heat, your moans growing louder as he continued. Frankie adds another finger, hooking them upwards and stroking your g spot.

“Right there!” you exclaim. “Fuck, right there.”

Frankie chuckles against your cunt, the vibrations just adding to the pleasure he was giving you. The familiar coil in your core was growing ever tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

“I’m close,” you warn in between breaths.

“Cum for me Hermosa,” Frankie groans against your clit, sucking even harder and pumping his fingers even faster.

The coil in your belly snaps and you cum on his fingers, letting out a loud, lewd moan as you do. He pulls fingers out of you, licking one more long stripe through your folds.

“You taste so good Hermosa,” he praises, kissing up your body reaching your mouth yet again. You love tasting your release on his lips. 

“Frankie,” you say, desperate to feel him inside of you. “Frankie, fuck me please.”

“As you wish Hermosa,” he grants. “You want to ride me?”

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Oh my fuck yes!”

Frankie chuckles again and stands to undress himself. His golden skin glowed in the lamp light, the small dusting of hair on his chest looked soft to the touch and you couldn’t wait to run your hands across his skin. You let your eyes wander downwards as he strips his pants away, a dark, well groomed happy trail leading to his substantial cock. You feel your pussy clench at the thought of having it inside you.

“You like what you see Hermosa?” he says with a sly smile.

“Dear god yes,” you say almost in a whine.

He grabs a condom from the bedside table and rolls it on before settling on the bed. Once he is ready you sling one leg over his abdomen, straddling him. It is your turn to lean down to kiss him, the remnants of your cum still detectable on his tongue. You pull away and reach behind you to line his cock up with your entrance, slowly sinking down onto it. The two of you groan in tandem at the feel of it, the stretch of his cock inside of you dancing on the line between pain and pleasure. 

“You’re so tight Hermosa,” he praises, “so warm.”

You moan at his words, grinding your hips down against him. Bracing your hands on his chest, you start to bounce at a steady pace, Frankie’s hands on your hips helping to guide you as you take your pleasure. His resolve is straining as he resists the urge to fuck up into you, not wanting this to be over too quickly. He slides a hand up to cup one of your tits, the other moving to rub your clit, hoping to coax another orgasm out of you.

“Come on baby,” he groans. “Cum on my cock.”

You clench around him as you cum again, your nails digging into his skin leaving crescent shaped marks. His fingers rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you come down from your high, your fluttering walls providing the perfect sheath for Frankie’s rock hard member. Collapsing against his chest, you press your lips against his, happy to explore his mouth with your tongue. After a few moments, he bucks his hips up into you a few times before flipping you onto your back, careful not to let his cock slip free.

“You ready for more Hermosa?” he asks.

You nod, not trusting your mouth to work well enough to form words after two intense orgasms. He starts slow, savoring the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped around him. He steadily builds up his pace until he’s fucking you with reckless abandon, one hand squeezes your tit, the other arm braced above your head, his weight resting on his forearm as his hand stroked your hair. You felt yet another orgasm building as he slammed his hips into yours, he was grunting in pleasure with every thrust.

“Frankie, I’m gonna cum again,” you gasp.

“Do it,” he orders. “I’m close too.”

His cock hits that perfect spot inside you once, twice, three times and you’re sent hurtling over the edge, clenching down hard on his cock. As his hips start to falter, you’re hit by a wonderful thought.

“Frankie,” you moan.

“Yes Hermosa?” he replies, breathless and panting.

“I want you to cum on my tits,” you confess.

He answers you not with words, but rather with a loud groan and a quick searing kiss. He pulls out of you and tears the condom of his weeping length, stroking it rapidly as he positions himself over you. Reaching up, you place your hand over his, helping to bring him to climax.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his hot cum shooting out to land on your tits and chest. You look up with a large smile on your face, your thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of his hand, both of you still trying to catch your breath.

“That was amazing,” you pant.

“Mmm, to say the least,” he says, his voice almost at a whisper. “I’ll be right back to clean you up Hermosa.”

You hum in response, contentedly laying on his large bed. He comes back with a warm washcloth, gently dragging it over your skin cleaning away his release from your chest and yours from between your thighs. Before returning to the bathroom to return the washcloth, he places a tender kiss to your forehead.

“Gorgeous,” he states.

A chill washes over you and you are suddenly hyper aware of Frankie’s missing body heat. Rolling off the bed, you spot your discarded sweatshirt near the edge of the bed. Just the few steps it takes you to reach the piece of clothing shows you just how sore you are, and how much more you would be later. The thought makes you smile as you pull your sweatshirt over your head.

Frankie reenters the bedroom soon after, still gloriously naked. 

“Hi,” you mumbled into the kiss he gave you. 

“Hi,” he responds. “The snow is still coming down pretty heavily, and it doesn’t look like the plows have been out. So it looks like you and Basil are going to be stuck here tonight.”

“Worse things have happened,” you joke. “Do you have a pair of sweatpants I could borrow for the night?”

“I’m sure I can find something for you.”

He goes to his closet then, pulling on a pair of boxers and a shirt before digging out a pair of sweatpants before tossing them to you. As you pull on your discarded panties and his much too large sweatpants, you hear the jingle of Basil’s collar as she comes up the stairs. 

“She’s quite the matchmaker,” Frankie laughs.

“To say the least,” you giggle, squatting down next to your canine companion. 

“Hey,” Frankie says, pointing at the clock on his bedside table. 

“Happy New Year,” the two of you say simultaneously, laughing at the absurdity of tonight’s situation.

[gravesightings]

Sure I can!!! Sorry for not giving details, I always do this 🤦🏻‍♂️! I actually had to google the meaning because english isn't my first language and in every site meant something different (with some similarities ofc), so i don't even know if dork is the word. But it's a silly s/o, who behaves slightly awkward, laughs of dumb or stupid things and tend to make jokes that only dads do, still they like being like this and love the feeling their personality cause in others.

hey, it’s no problem! thank you for elaborating. I appreciate it! 💞

slashers with a silly/dorky s/o.

Asa Emory / The Collector

socially awkward? same hat!

seeing someone slightly a bit more socially inept than him would cause him to take charge of the situation. awkward silence who?

paranoid as usual. what if someone happens to take advantage of you? he simply cannot have that. here, keep one of his dogs with you at all times.

big fan of the dad jokes so you might actually hear him laugh! but he’ll quickly try to brush it off and act like nothing happened.

tolerant of your antics as long as you don’t hurt yourself. if you’re observant enough you might catch him trying not to smile at you.

Billy Lenz

sweet piggy, silly piggy! billyboy is also a big fan!

billy doesn’t catch certain social cues so it’s as if you’re never awkward to begin with.

while he thinks some of your jokes aren’t that funny, he’ll laugh anyways! that’s how much he loves you, see?

pretty straightforward. that includes both complimenting you and some of his other interesting comments. haha you’re weird and your jokes are for old people! he likes that!

naturally joins you when he sees you laughing at something dumb. do you like victim people-watching? snicker along with him when a victim does something embarrassing in private.

Bo Sinclair

bo definitely thinks it’s cute! you remind him of vincent in a way except you’re actually funny.

catch him full-on belly laughing at your dad jokes. turns out he has the exact same type of humor! he only stopped making jokes because his brothers think he’s not funny.

now that he has you around, you’re both busting dad jokes and un-funny puns.

a little awkward with him? that’s alright. a hard smack on the back will do the trick. bo’s quite the charmer so he’ll have you comfy with him in no time.

the type to tell you up-front that you’re a little weird but “in a good way.”

Brahms Heelshire

this recluse wouldn’t have a damn clue if you happen to be slightly weird. there’s no socializing to be done in the walls, after all.

just thinks you’re shy and maybe a little odd? but he has manners! and he knows not to call you that out loud. he’s a good boy, you see.

the jokes are ....not very funny to him... but he’s not gonna say that either! you know why? that’s right! because he’s a good boy.

might give you a pity laugh from time to time because otherwise he feels bad.

but! brahmsy’s very on-board with laughing at dumb things. invites you to sit with him by the window and points out a rat rolling around in the garden. oh! there it goes!

Bubba Sawyer

you’re so cute!!! bubby makes sure to “compliment” you a lot by babbling at you softly and petting your head at the same time.

unfortunately he’s a little slow when it comes to the jokes so he can’t appreciate them as much...

honestly it’s hard to tell if he’s into it or not because bubba’s always smiling around you anyways. did he get one of your jokes or is he just happy to spend time with you? who knows.

you know who would appreciate the jokes and the antics though? choptop and nubbins.

drayton’s lifespan would be halved. he’s already got his hands full with the two troublemakers, and now you too?

Jason Voorhees

jason thinks you’re positively adorable! expect frequent head pats from this man.

like asa, he’s a bit of a paranoid so he makes sure to always keep an eye on you. you’re too sweet for this world and bad people might hurt you for it!

also a fan of the dad jokes! “hey jason, what’s a fish with no eye? ...a fsh.” cue muffled chuckling. gives you a thumbs up - jason’s seal of approval.

because big boy is a sweetheart, he’ll fake a laugh even if he doesn’t find it funny. also he’s given a thumbs up to all your jokes. all of them.

not one to laugh at dumb things but cares about you enough to want to know about it. tree stump shaped like a butt? hm you’re right. why are you laughing? ? how is it funny???

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

jesse also thinks it’s cute but in a condescending way.

“hey jesse, what kind of shoes do ninjas wear? ....sneakers!” deep sigh.

like the true gentleman he is, he would never leave you hanging no matter how bad your jokes are. mostly he’ll just shake his head and give an exaggerated sigh.

once he had pulled out his knife and handed it to you, asking you to “please end his misery,” after you had told him the impasta joke.

definitely the type to give sarcastic comments such as “please not another one, I’m already dying of laughter,” or “you’re putting other comedians out of business.”

Michael Myers

no reaction as always. just grumpier than usual.

bastard hands mcmike thinks it’s dumb and you’re dumb, so naturally he’s going to follow you wherever you go. y’know, just in case someone decides to abduct you.

completely lost in thought while you’re ripping out all your killer jokes. why are you like this? internally decides he’s going to repeat the process again tomorrow.

thinks it’s a serious problem and if you keep at it, he’s going to get creative. would you behave if he just... throws a sheet over you?

would listen to you sometimes and you’d automatically know by his dramatic sighs.

Thomas Hewitt

tommy’s very socially awkward so he’d probably be more relaxed around you, if anything.

not as generous with pity-laughing but he’ll give you a good pat on the head for effort.

surprisingly sassy? tommy's actually very expressive despite not being able to talk, so more often than not he’s giving you a look that says “you need to get better jokes.”

or sometimes giving you a sarcastic sigh, followed by the rumble of his chest. that doesn’t count! he was laughing at the situation, not at your joke!

it’s hard to make the big man laugh so don’t get too discouraged. however, he does find it difficult not smile at you every time you try.

Vincent Sinclair

oh.. honey, no. vincent’s too nice for his own good so he’d be overly supportive of anything and everything you do.

dad jokes? groan. but if you’re the one making them? he’ll make the effort to chuckle, at the very least. (bo complaining in the background about how vinny doesn’t laugh at his jokes.)

can’t help but find it oddly endearing. this man is a hopeless romantic so he’d be praising you any chance he gets.

his praising method is the same as bubba’s - only vincent hums fondly at you instead of babbling.

it’s not easy to make vincent laugh either but he doesn’t want to discourage you from trying so he’ll just keep faking it and hope you get better.

[george-mackay-macfine]

Lets Play A Game - CH.2

Chapter 2 of let's play a game. Imagine who you wish as Jude.

“Okay, well, if we’re going to do this, we need rules.”

“Rules?”

“Rules.” I pushed the heavy-bodied oaf off me and stood up, “You know, like the Geneva contract….”

“This isn’t a world war, Edwards.”

“Oh really?” I spun on my heel, “Because I’m treating it as war.” I motioned between the two of us, “If I’m going to be playing dirty with the enemy, then I need to make sure there are no casualties, apart from you, of course.” I dipped my head to the side, sending him a cheeky smirk.

“Fine,” He rolled his eyes. “We’ll make some rules then.”

“Okay, first rule.”

“No one but us get’s to know about the game,” He pointed at me. “No mothers, no friends, no one.”

“Like I’d want anyone to know I was doing anything with you.” I agreed. “PDA?”

“Obviously,” He rolled his eyes. “No one will believe we’re dating if we don’t show some PDA.”

“Right, sorry, I forgot I was dealing with a man whore.” I threw at him. “Handholding.”

“Scared you’ll get cooties.” I shot him a glare. “Kissing.”

“Ugh,” I shrivelled my nose in disgust. “If we must,”

“You liked it.”

“No, not really.” He sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The feeling of his eyes on me began to make my chest feel warm.

“Then why are you still here, in my shirt, this close to falling back into my bed.”

“I’m not close to ‘falling back into your bed’, Hastings.”

“Oh really?” His hand grabbed at the bottom of his shirt, pulling me greedily towards him.

“I don’t have time for this again. I have to go.” The skin of his knuckles brushed the skin of my thighs as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

“C’mon Edwards. Admit it, you like this.” His fingers pushed up the shirt again, causing a sharp intake of breath from me. “And that.” He looked up at me through his eyelashes. “Shows me just how much you want me.”

“For God’s sake, Hastings. You’re insane.” My hands gripped onto his wrists fruitlessly, trying to stop him. “I have to leave.” In an instant, his hands had reached around my thighs and pulled me down onto his lap. His right hand rested on the curve of my ass—his left hand wandering up underneath his shirt, running along the skin of my stomach.

And when he looked at me with his stupid lips twisting into that cunning smirk. Dear God. If only his personality matched how attractive he was.

“You really want to leave?” I looked up to the ceiling, averting my eyes, so I didn’t make any more mistakes. “Stop me touching you, in the same way I was touching you last night” His hands went to the button on my pants, fiddling with it. “Admit it, I already know exactly what you like, Darcy.” His hand returned to my shirt, pushing the material upwards. I felt his lips on my skin next. Kissing along the exposed flesh. “There’s still one rule we need to decide on.”

“Mhhm.” Oh god, his hands touching me felt like it left a trail of fire in its wake, and maybe if I just pretend it was someone else, maybe Chris Evans, I could let this happen again.

“Sex,”

“What.”

“Sex, Will we have it through this little game?”

“God no,”

“Oh, come on. Tell me you don’t want it,” He whispered against my skin. I shook my head, biting my lip, hands going to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. “I need you to tell me.”

“I have to go,” I pulled my head down from the clouds and pushed him away. He fell back onto the bed with an exasperated huff. “I have brunch with my parents, and thanks to some cocky asshole, I’m going to have to sit through it without underwear.”

“Well, I’m going to have to get through today without my favourite shirt, So we’ll call it even.”

“You poor baby,” I straightened the jacket. “I hope you don’t die without it.” I walked towards the door, stopping just shy of it turning back to look at him. “Or, ya know… you can… do whatever suits you best, really.” I stepped through the threshold out into the unfamiliar hallway. “Shit,”

“Lost?” His ever so irritating voice whispered in my ear after I stood a moment, deciding what way to go.

“Of course not,”

“Then lead the way to the door, Honey.” I turned to face him at the nickname. He was still shirtless, now a pair of tracksuit bottoms covering his lower half.

“Honey?” He grinned, both top and bottom teeth on display, leaning back casually on the doorframe as he watched me. “That’s the nickname your going with? Really?”

“What?” He laughed, and God, he’d always had the kind of laugh that made you want to laugh with him. “I’m trying it out.”

“Try another one.” I looked left then to the right, trying to recollect what way Hastings had pulled me from last night.

“Need help?”

“No.” I stepped forward, then spun to the left, taking a tentative step forward, stopping when he cleared his throat. I turned to face him. His head shook no. “Mother ducker.” I muttered, spinning on my heel and walking back past him.

“You could have just asked for directions,”

“Shut up.” I growled as I stormed down the hallway and out into the living room. Surprisingly it was cleaner than I’d ever expected from Jude Hastings. “Have you seen my purse?”

“Hanging on the doorknob.”

“Great,” I walked to the door, grabbing the black shoulder bag I’d spent my morning looking for all over his bedroom. “Well,” I turned to look at my own personal demon. “This has been a ride…” A dirty smile broke out on his face. “Stop it.” I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll call you,”

“You don’t have my number,”

“Are you sure about that?”

“If you do have it,” I took a deep breath, pulling the door open. “Lose it.”

“Backing out already?”

“Never!” I shut the door behind me, ending the conversation. “What is wrong with me.” I muttered to myself as I began the walk to the cafe.

I had just agreed to potentially - doubtfully - fall in love with Jude Hastings, my mortal enemy. It may be dramatic, but he was the absolute worst, at least whenever he opens his mouth. Maybe I can just put a bag over his personality and gag him… then I would happily reinstigate what happened last night. Can you bag someone’s personality?

Not important right now, Darcy.

I had to formulate a plan, a way to make Hastings fall in love with me so I could crush his heart in my hands. A quick google as I walked told me most of what I already knew.

THE EASY FAULT FREE SIX STEPS TO MAKE YOUR WORST

NIGHTMARE FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU!!

A dissertation by Darcy Alice Edwards

1. Maintain eye contact.

This was already a problem for me. Looking into Jude Hastings eyes for too long was known to induce nausea.

2. Be interested in who they are as a person and listen to everything they have to say.

Another problem for me, as I wasn’t interested in anything he had to say or anything he was interested in. Not only that, but the sound of his voice was often like the sound of nails on a chalkboard for me.

3. Make them feel appreciated and special.

Make Jude Hastings feel appreciated. How can I even manage to do this with a straight face?

4. Smile a lot.

This one maybe I could do. If I think of happy thoughts and pretend it was anyone but Hastings.

5. Embrace what the other person is most passionate about.

For Jude, this was beer pong and margaritas. I could embrace them.

6. Touch them more often.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

“Darcy, sweetheart, there you are.” The high pitched tone of my moms’ voice broke me from my research. She and my father sat at a table by the front door. The pair of them had a half-drunk coffee in front of them. Crap, they’ve been waiting, and by the frown lines on my mom’s face, it was longer than five minutes. “We’re been waiting for you.” There it was, three seconds into brunch, and she was already chastising me.

“Sorry,” I pushed my phone into my back pocket and took a seat across from her and my father. “Hi Dad,”

“Hi kitten,” Out of my two parents, my dad had always been my favourite. When my mom was harsh, my dad was kind. When mom drilled into me about my life, my dad made sure I felt loved. He was always the one to parent me, not just order me around.

“You couldn’t have dressed nicer for Sunday brunch?” Mom looked over Hastings crinkled shirt with an upturned nose. “What will people think?”

“Can I please order a mimosa.” I grabbed the nearby waitress with a pleading smile. “I’m sure they’ll think there’s Darcy Edwards.”

“Drinking already?”

“Extra champagne.” I called after the waitress.

“Darcy…”

“So what are we thinking of getting.” I ignored my mothers’ warning tone, picking up the menu. “Egg’s sound good.”

“I had the eggs last time. They were good.” Dad added. “I think I’ll have sausage and eggs, maybe some bacon.”

“Bacon sounds good.”

“You need to watch your cholesterol.” I was vaguely paying attention as my parents began to argue about my father can and can’t eat, but mostly I was dying for the mimosa to hurry up and arrive,

“There you are.”

“I don’t know if I want eggs anymore, maybe pancakes.” I muttered, poking the page with my finger. Syrup soaked pancakes did sound amazing right now, or maybe waffles.

“Baby,”

“Jude?” My head snapped up at the mention of his name. Standing beside me was Hastings dressed in his police uniform. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?” It was totally the man in uniform kink making my heart rate spike, not just Jude Hastings in a uniform.

“I just came to drop this off to Darcy.” He waved my wallet in the air. “She left it in my apartment when she rushed off this morning.”

“Oh, is that right?” Jude Hastings, you dirty dog. “Why don’t you join us for breakfast, Jude?” Mom smiled happily at him, she’d always loved him.

“He can’t-“

“I’d love to.” The seat was pulled out roughly, and his body flopped into the chair, his arm coming to rest on my shoulders. I turned to look at him. He was smirking. Of course, he was. “Hi.” He leaned in and kissed my lips.

“So.” I could hear the smile in my mom’s voice. “When did this all happen?”

“Two months ago.” I blurted, looking at Hastings’s eyes. “Right, Jude.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, turning to my parents. “We ran into each other one night at a bar, and we began talking, like civilised adults, finally, and it just started from there.” He shrugged as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“And you didn’t tell me, Darcy?” I heard the edge on my mothers’ voice, oh boy. I was in big trouble.

“Well, we wanted to see exactly where things were going before we announced it to the whole town.”

I honestly believed that half the town would roll over and die when they find out Jude Hastings and Darcy Edwards were ‘dating’. Considering we’d nearly pulled the town apart with our pranks.

“Given our history,” Hastings added.

“Well, I think it’s wonderful.” My dad smiled at us. “You know I’ve always liked you, Jude.”

“Thank you, sir,”

“Kiss arse,” I let out under my breath.

“What was that sweetheart,” Hastings looked down at me with that fucking shit-eating grin.

“I said how sweet.”

“Mimosa,” The waitress reappeared.

“Please.” I held up my hand partly, mouth practically salivating at the idea of my alcohol in my bloodstream helping me get through this brunch. “Thank you.” I smiled as she placed the champagne flute in front of me.

“Mimosa, huh.” Hastings’s voice sounded teasing, but I knew him well enough to know this was no innocent observation. “You’d think she’d had enough to drink last night.”

“You went out last night?” My mother’s eyebrows shot up before a look of displeasure replaced the shock. “Is that why you’re dressed so…” We reached this part of breakfast quicker than I thought we would. Sit back, ladies and gents, the shows about the start. Act one; My mother judging my life choices as if I hadn’t been of legal age for the last six years.

“So what? Mother?” I picked up the flute and sat back in my chair, waiting for my mother to go off about my appearance.

“Messily.”

“No.” I deadpanned. “I’m dressed so messily because I was up early grading papers for my fourth-grade class.”

“Darcy, you surely don’t believe that I would believe-“

“It’s true. Darcy was up around dawn and began working.” As soon as my mother heard Hastings testimony for my ragged appearance, she sat back in her seat, a sweet smile replacing the devil horns.

Classic mom, always willing to believe the perfect Jude Hastings.

Speaking of the demon man himself. I don’t know if Hastings saved me because he felt terrible for the verbal ass-whooping my mother was about to give me or because he wanted to hold it over my head at a later date.

Probably the second one.

“See,” I took a long swig of the mimosa and looked at dad. “What are you getting, dad?”

“Waffles,” He smiled widely. God, he was a good man to put up with both my mother and I’s fighting. “With a side of fruit salad.”

“Sounds delicious.” I felt Hastings fingers fiddle and tap on the back of the chair, occasionally brushing my skin as they moved. “Mrs. Edwards, what are you going to get?”

I ignored the polite conversation trying to fight the feeling of nausea in my stomach as I watched my parents interact with Hastings and him with them. He was good at this, a borderline professional, but then again, what could you expect from a man who’d had more girlfriends than Keeping up with the Kardashians had seasons. I swear, in high school, it was like he had a new girl every week. I thought it was going to end up a category in our yearbook.

Most Girlfriends in a single year: Jude Hastings.

“Babe, your mother asked you a question.” His shoulder nudged mine, breaking me from my daze.

“I’m sorry, I was reading.” I looked between the demon and my mother. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying, sweetheart, that perhaps we should go out to dinner with the Hastings soon, all of us together to celebrate you and Jude finally getting over that childhood tiff of yours.”

“Yeah, sounds great.” I mumbled, picking up the champagne flute.

“Wonderful,” My mother clapped her hands excitedly. “I’ll call Francine.”

“She’ll be excited to hear from you.”

“How’s work, Jude?” My dad distracted Hastings, pulling him into a conversation, only this allowed Hastings to work his dark magic in seducing them into thinking he was a good person.

He wasn’t. No way.

As I listened to my parents both fawn over him, I had one goal in mind. Make him fall in love with me so hard I can watch him crash and burn in a flaming pit of fire, and I will go down in history as the one girl who broke Jude Hastings heart.

[bellisperennis0]

Her Best Friend

Word Count: 1,662

Warnings: Slight Language

A/N: Not too thrilled with this one. Trying to get my inspiration to write back. GIF credit to owner, found off Google. Again, thank you for reading and enjoy! ❤️

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

Angel had texted you while you were at work telling you there was going to be a huge clubhouse party, a few other charters were coming down, he hadn’t seen you in a while and wanted you to show up and have some fun. You told him you would think about it and text him later to let him know if you were showing up or not.

When you arrived at the Clubhouse the party was in full swing. As you made your way towards the clubhouse you said your hellos to some of the guys who were enjoying the cool Santo Padre night as well as a bloody brawl in the cage. Making your way inside, you freeze when the first person you make eye contact with is your ex-boyfriend, Jake. Before you can process anything, Angel is pulling you into a quick hug.

“What is he doing here?” You ask him as you hug him back.

“Apparently he is the potential new Prospect for the Oakland charter.” He tells you, placing a kiss to your head.

“I should probably go, I don’t wan-.” You begin but Angel is quick to cut you off.

“Stop! Don’t be crazy. He knows better than to start anything here. None of us will allow that shit to fly. Come on.” He tells you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the poker table where he was currently playing a game against Bishop and Coco.

Giving Coco a quick kiss to his cheek, you go and wrap your arms around Bishop’s neck, giving him a peck to the cheek, “Hay, Uncle Bish.” You say.

“Sweetheart.” He says, placing his hand over yours, rubbing small circles.

“What is he doing here?” you ask him in his ear. He chuckles, “Sorry sweetheart, I wasn’t aware he was trying to be a Prospect. I had a talk with him already and told him he better not start shit.” You give him another kiss to the cheek and take a seat in-between him and Angel.

You were enjoying your time joking around with the guys for the past couple hours, missing the awesome stories Gilly and Coco always seemed to have.

Excusing yourself you begin to get up from your seat, “Where are you going?” Angel asks you as he grabs your hand. “Bathroom.” You tell him giving him a smile. “Hurry back, querida.” He says giving you a wink.

Since you sat down you have noticed Angel was a little touchier then he normally would be, even taking you by surprise when he kept turning down the Club hang arounds.

----------

As you were making your way through the back hall heading back to the main room, you curse when you see you ex leaning against the wall at the end of the hall, clearly waiting for you.

“Hay Baby girl, long time no see.” He chuckles, giving you a smug smirk. Rolling your eyes, you try your best to walk past him, but he grabs you by your wrist, stopping you.

“What do you want Jake?” you ask him once you were face to face with him, clear annoyance in your voice.

“Do you really think I am that stupid, beautiful? You and Angel, I’m really supposed to believe that?” he asks you as he chuckles.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Please let go of me.” You tell him as you gently try to tug your wrist from his grasps.

“Come on you‘re really not in love with Angel. You’re just using him to make me jealous.” You scoff and roll your eyes. You then hear Angel’s voice come up behind you.

“I’d appreciate it if you take your filthy hands off my girl.” Angel says as he approaches, placing a reassuring hand on the small of your back.

“Cute you really got him playing the part to.” Jake chuckles.

“I’m not playing any part. And if you don’t let her go my fist will let you know how much I’m not playing a part.” Jake is quick to release you and Angel pulls you behind him.

Jake scoffs, “You’re seriously with him?” he asks, as he points towards Angel.

“As a fucking heart attack. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll walk away.” Angel threatens. Jake puts his hands in the air in surrender. “Hear you loud and clear, Reyes. I’ll see you around y/n.” he says giving you a wink and walking away.

Angel turns to you, placing a hand on your hip. “You alright?” he asks you. “Yeah. I’m sorr-“ you begin, but Angel cuts you off. “Stop apologizing, you didn’t do anything.” he tells you putting his arm around your shoulder and leading you back to the party.

----------

As the night went on you noticed Angel was getting more and more affectionate. Hardly ever leaving your side, never letting you leave his sight, a hand on you at all times. You have noticed your ex-boyfriend creeping around outside, staring in your direction most of the night, you just figured Angel’s behavior was just part of this little act you two had going on to keep him away.

It was clear that you and Angel had a connection, one of more than just friends. Everyone could see the real connection you and Angel had, everyone telling you that even though Angel denied having any feelings towards you, deep dowm he truly did feel the same way as you did. Which is why you decided to confess your feelings for him not too long ago, after a drunken night at the clubhouse, but were completely crushed when he confessed his feeling for Adelita instead.

----------

Coming back to your seat next to Angel after helping Letty out with something in the Clubhouse, you were caught off guard when Angel grabbed you to sit in his lap instead. Catching sight of your ex across the yard you decide to going along with Angel’s lead, but were surprised when Angel decided to bury his face in the crook of your neck, placing kisses up and down your neck.

“What are you doing, Ignacio?” you ask as you pull away to look at him.

“Gotta sale this shit, querida. Gotta get rid of that asshole for good.” He tells you as he looks up at you.

You and Angel flirted here and there, but it never went past innocent touching and most the time he flirted with you when he needed to get away from a clingy club hang around. Tonight the way Angel was behaving almost had you thinking this wasn’t just an act, but his true intentions.

“You’re just drunk, Angel.” You say gently pushing him away.

“Not as drunk as you think I am.” He tells you. Before you can respond Angel’s fingers caress your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss. Your whole body tingled, the feeling of Angel’s lips against yours, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, it all felt like home.

“I love you!” he blurted out as he gently pulled away from you.

Opening your eyes, your brows furrow in confusion. Searching Angel’s face all you find is sincerity and pure love. Even more confused than before, without saying a word, you get up off Angel’s lap and begin walking towards EZ’s trailer. When you finally hear Angel’s heavy booted steps behind you, you turn to face him.

“This was all fake, this was supposed to be fake, you weren’t supposed to tell me you love me!” you practically shout at Angel.

“I’m sorry! I believe you were the first one to say it, mi dulce.” He says, clearly taking offense to your reaction.

“What about Adelita? Your feelings for her? Working things out with her?” you ask him.

Angel scoffs, “I just said all that shit because I was afraid of confessing my true feelings. I knew how drunk you were that night, the last thing I wanted to do was to pour my heart out to you, for you to not remember any of it later.” He tells you, as he slowly approaches you.

“Then why don’t you tell me how you feel now?” you shyly ask him.

He gives you a smile, “Since that night you told me everything, all I could think about is how bad I want you by my side, all day every day. Coming home to you after a long day, especially after a long run. Kissing you whenever I please. That gorgeous face being the first and last thing I see every day. Having you in my arms. Simply existing in your world.” He tells you as he pulls you into his arms, gently wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Say it again?” you ask him.

“I love you!” he tells you, smiling down at you as his thumb softly strokes your cheek.

Grabbing the front of his kutte you pull him in, claiming his mouth again, hungry and intense.

“I Love you to, Angel Reyes.”

“What do you say I take you home and show you how much I really love you?” He says

Rolling your eyes and slapping his chest, “Leave it up to you to ruin a romantic moment.” You both giggle.

“Like you weren’t thinking the same thing, dulce.”  He tells you, throwing his arm around your shoulder and walking you both to his bike.

As you both get ready to ride off the yard, you both spot your ex staring in your direction. Wrapping your arms around Angel’s waist, he leans back to give you another kiss. When you both turn back, you see your ex throw his beer bottle out of frustration and storm back into the Clubhouse; causing you both to chuckle.

“Take me home, Reyes!” you say as you place your hands on his chest.

“My pleasure, querida.” He says bringing your hand to his lips, his bike roaring to life.

-xx

[itsallyscorner]

Girls Night with Niall

Happy Birthday Niall! 🥳

☘︎︎ Y’all this picture😫😍

☘︎︎ Anyway BOYFRIEND Niall is the cutest Niall.

☘︎︎ I feel like Niall is like the perfect kind of clingy. Like he’ll have days where he’s clingy but he won’t overwhelm you because he respects your space and you respect his.

☘︎︎ But let’s say he’s just gotten back from tour, or the studio, or an all boys vacation, whatever it is. (I’ll go with the studio)

☘︎︎ You and your girlfriends have planned a night out on the town. Maybe explore London, have some dinner, then hang out at a pub near by.

☘︎︎ Niall, who hasn’t seen you the whole day because he’s been in the studio, insists that he should come with you on girls night.

☘︎︎ “Ni, the point of a girls night is that there’s supposed to be no boys.”

☘︎︎ “I know! But I could be yer body guard and make sure nobody messes with ya girls. I’ll even buy all yer drinks! Ya won’t even notice me!”

☘︎︎ No matter how many times you’ll decline his offer, he’ll just keep begging you to take him. He’ll hug you and just look at you with puppy eyes while asking you to let him go.

☘︎︎ You end up letting him come because 1) he’s persistent, 2) he wouldn’t let you get ready, 3) it finally got him to shut up

☘︎︎ When you allowed him to come, he cheered, gave you a quick peck on the lips, and ran to get himself dressed.

☘︎︎ When you met up with the girls they gave you a look of confusion.

☘︎︎ “He insisted on coming, don’t mind him.”

☘︎︎ To which Niall just happily grinned at.

☘︎︎ He would trail behind your group to make sure you guys are doing alright and to not get in the way of the conversation you guys were having.

☘︎︎ He would be a couple feet behind you guys. He’d just appreciate his surroundings, maybe text some of his buds, take some selfies, while keeping an eye on you girls.

☘︎︎ When you guys wanna take group pictures he would volunteer to take it so all of you could be in the picture.

☘︎︎ Ugh imagine Niall just juggling three or four phones in his hands trying to get decent pictures on all of them. He would probably suggest some poses to you guys as well🥺

☘︎︎ When you guys are walking around he would probably suggest some shops to go in that he thought you guys would like.

☘︎︎ He probably overheard one of you guys say you were looking for a new jacket, and he would remember his stylist mentioning a shop that had comfy jackets and suggested it.

☘︎︎ His suggestion was a success👌🏼

☘︎︎ You and the girls probably can’t decide on a place to eat so you all turn to Niall to suggest something.

☘︎︎ Omg he would suggest a few and even pull up the menus for each restaurant!!!

☘︎︎ When you guys come to an agreement, he uses Google maps to get you guys there.

☘︎︎ You guys would follow him. While he’s leading the way your friends would be telling you about how much of a sweetheart Niall is and how you’re so lucky.

☘︎︎ “I know” you replied and made your way to Niall with an adoring smile. You would wrap your arms around his torso and his free arm would wrap around you.

☘︎︎ “We’re almost there petal, just another block.” He would reassure you and press a kiss on your forehead.

☘︎︎ During dinner, he would ask if you guys could get good seats.

☘︎︎ He tells you guys to just get whatever you want because dinner is his treat. To which you all disagree to but he says it’s on him because he crashed girls night.

☘︎︎ You guys would all catch up with each other and talk about some old memories. The girls would probably interview Niall about how you guys met, his job, and just include him in the conversation.

☘︎︎ He would crack some jokes here and there, making the whole table laugh because he’s such a charmer.

☘︎︎ Maybe two of your friends are single, he would point out some guys at the restaurant.

☘︎︎ “Well he looks cute, he’s gotta good sense of style. Oh look, he’s with his family. Oh my god, he’s holding a baby!!”

☘︎︎ When that didn’t work, he suggested setting up one of your friends with one of his single friends.

☘︎︎ At the pub, he would order all of your drinks and bring it to the table for you guys.

☘︎︎ The pub was kind of crowded so Niall would be sure to look around and make sure no one was putting anything in anyone’s drinks.

☘︎︎ If someone was getting uncomfortably close to you or any of your friends he wouldn’t hesitate to tell them off or confront them.

☘︎︎ He would ask for a toast, “Thank you ladies for letting me join tonight, cheers girls!!”

☘︎︎ As girls night came to an end, everyone was pretty tipsy.

☘︎︎ He could’ve gotten your friends an Uber, but of course he wanted to make sure everyone got home safe. So he drove everyone home and didn’t drive away until they were inside their homes🥺🥺🥺

☘︎︎ When you guys finally made it home, he helped you wipe your makeup off and change into your pajamas. Which was one of his shirts, ofc.

☘︎︎ As you two settled into bed, your head on his chest and his chin resting on your head, you told him, “Thank you for tonight, I’m glad you came.”

☘︎︎ He would smile down at you and gently pull you towards him to passionately kiss you.

☘︎︎ “I’d do anything to spend time with ya, lover. Whether it just be the two of us or girls night.”

☘︎︎ After that night, Niall was approved by all your girlfriends and was always allowed to come to girls night.

☘︎︎ I WANT MY OWN NIALL UGH

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Hibiscus Kisses {1}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot Heavy, Cursing, 

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Hey, hey, hey, guys! So here we are trying something different/new. I hope you enjoy this. 🤞🏽 Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗 Also, what do you guys think of the title? What does it make you think of?

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Very Interactive**

***French Language Incorporated w/translations according to Google***

“Yes, mom, I packed my charger and my vitamins. Oh my god, of course, I have my scarf. Mom!”

 Your mother continued to press you about things any woman would never forget packing. This was how she was normally. Almost morning, she would make her routine calls. First to your sister Atali, then to you. When she made it to you, she’d ask if you ate, and of course, by the time she called you, you were usually at work or on your way to it, and you wouldn’t have eaten. Then she’d ask you why you hadn’t eaten, to which she’d go back and forth with you about the importance of eating a well-balanced meal. Somehow that would lead to her asking how you expected to find the one when you didn’t eat enough. It was a never-ending thing with her. She was obsessed with you and your sister finding the one.

You understood. Your parents had been married for well over two decades, and they were still disgustingly in love. There was also no one like your dad, so you understood. They both saw what a catch they both were. After she told you the story of how she finessed your dad and got married in record time, it always turned into focus on you finding someone to marry. No matter how many times you told her that even though marriage was great and all, you weren’t in any hurry, it never registered.

 “Mom, I have everything I need. It is just supposed to be a two-week cruise.”

 “You’d be surprised the things you realize you left once you’re at sea. Then it will be too late,” Cynthia, your mother warned.

 “Then I’ll just buy it. Mom, I’m not going to the middle of nowhere. I am going on a huge ship from one of the world’s most reputable companies. I am positive they have every possible thing I could want to buy onboard. Plus, when we dock at ports, I’ll be able to buy much more.”

 “You’re always buying. Gah, I blame your father. He spoiled you and your sister rotten.”

 “I am not spoiled. It’s not like I haven’t worked for my money. Yes, daddy helped me set up my company, but I got where I am today because of me,” you professed.

 “I know, sweetheart, you don’t have to preach to the choir. All I’m saying is your daddy’s wealth only helped spoil you and Lali more. I saw it in you at the playground the most. You always wanted what the other kids were playing with. If it was a ball, you tried to take it. If it were the swings, you’d overtake it, toys in the sandbox my goodness those kids would end up with sand in their eyes and you alone with the toys.”

 “Some would call that persistence, hardworking, and assertive.”

 Your mother laughed then tsked.

 “I’m surprised that when you were in high school, I never got a call about you getting into a fight because you stole some girl’s boyfriend.”

 You pursed your lips, but as you were going to open your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated, signaling a notification.

 “Hang on, mom.”

 You thanked the Lyft driver for helping with your bags then checked your phone.

 MSG Javii: I’ve been calling you all night. Come on, Chaton (kitten). You have to talk to me at some point. Tu me manques (I miss you).

 You sighed and rolled your eyes. He had some nerve, you thought.

 “Ajali, hello!”

 “Yes, mom, I���m here. Sorry. I was getting my bags together.”

 “So, you’re really doing this?”

 “Yes, mom. Why wouldn’t I?”

 “Who goes on a cruise alone? What about the man I heard in the background of our call a few weeks ago? Why not go with him?”

 You rolled your eyes again, thinking about that man in the background a few weeks ago who was on your shit list.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was the tv,” you lied.

 “Ajali--,” your mother began before you cut her off.

 “—Plus, mom, it’s a Disney cruise,” you stressed.

 “Exactly. The people who go on Disney cruises are families, wives, husbands, kids. You are neither of them and have nether of them.”

 You balanced your phone on your shoulder and rolled your luggage toward the designated pier.

 “I just need some time to myself to clear my head and destress. Two weeks.”

 “Ignore your mother, my petal. You take the time you need. I’ve told you, and your sister working is important, but living is just as important. You don’t live to work; you work to live,” your father said.

 “Thank you, daddy.”

 “Plus, maybe you will find a worthy man on this cruise while you’re living,” your father slid in.

 “Oh god, not you too, daddy.”

 “We are unified in this, Lulu. He may wear the pants, but I control the buttons and the zipper if you know what I mean.”

 You tasted vomit in your mouth.

 “Eck! That is disgusting, mother. On that note, I gotta go.”

 “Wait, wait, enjoy yourself, my petal. We love you.”

 “Love you too, daddy, love you, mom.”

 With that, you ended the call and continued to walk toward Pier eighty-one. You passed families with rowdy children who looked like they couldn’t wait to get ice cream wasted, couples who looked as if they couldn’t wait to get to their suites and even elderly couples who were dressed to the nines for vacation, including already applied sunscreen and sunhats. Despite what your mother thought, Disney cruises were for everyone.

 You’d purposely chosen Disney because you didn’t want to be around other couples who were loved up and nauseatingly adorable, spewing love in the air. You wanted to be as far from that as possible. Love was the last thing on your mind. You were going on this cruise to get away from it. Your phone vibrated and went off twice.

 MSG Atali: Have you made your getaway yet?

 You stopped rolling and went to reply.

 MSG: Almost. I’m walking to the boarding line now.

MSG Atali: I think you’re doing the right thing. Space and time. In two weeks you’ll know what you want to do. I hope it’s what we talked about.

MSG: I know, Lali, I know.

MSG Atali: Have some fun too. It’s Disney.

 You could picture her face as you read it. She was probably cheesing at this very minute.

 MSG: Thank you for looking after the company while I’m gone.

MSG Atali: Boo, you know it’s my company too, right. Don’t worry; our clients will be taken care of. I’ve got it covered.

 You knew she did. Atali was the older one and had always acted like it, even though she was only nine months older. You knew she could take care of things on her own while you were away.

 MSG: I know, still. Thank you.

MSG Atali: You’re welcome, Lulu. Call me later. Margaret Bailey’s appointment is next. Apparently, she’s throwing some party, and she wants to be the envy of everyone.

MSG: Eck, you have your work cut out for you. Bye.

 As you were putting your phone away, another message came in.

 MSG Javii: Chaton (kitten), call me, please. Don’t you think you’re dragging this out a little?

 You almost said, “are you stupid” out loud. The man had some nerve. Dragging it out? You rolled your eyes as another message came in.

 MSG Javii: Je t’aime (I love you).

 Just like that, you melted. He was playing on the fact that your father was French, and the language itself was a favorite of yours. He was not a stupid man; he was a smart businessman.

 MSG Javii: I’m sorry. I know we’ve talked about it, but you have to give me more time. Please.

Unbelievable, you thought as you exited your messages and stuck your phone into your back pocket. You turned and ran smack dab into someone’s hard body.

 “Shit. I’m so sorry,” you rushed out even as you were falling back.

 A pair of strong arms grabbed you and firmly held you, preventing your fall.

“It’s okay, you’re lucky I don’t mind beautiful women bumping into me,” a deep masculine voice said. You knew it was a man, but you couldn’t see his face even though he looked to be well over six feet. His head was dipped low, and the hat he wore over hair that fell to his neck was so low you couldn’t see anything but the full beard that showed off a chiseled jawline.

 He set you right side up and slowly brought his hands from your arms back to his side. “Stay safe out there,” he said before he walked off.

 You stood there for a few moments, then looked back to where he’d walked and watched him saunter away. He had a slight dip to the way he walked that could either be seen as a happy go lucky type of thing or something that said he had some sort of swagger. Before you stared any longer, you sprang into motion with wheeling your luggage to the growing line to board the ship. Thankfully the line went quickly thanks to the ten different lanes that had ship staffers ready and eager to help guests.

 When it was your turn, a friendly-looking woman with a trendy bob cut explained what to do. While she talked, her smile never fell, but you didn’t really pay attention because her uniform was so distracting. She had on a purple and green hat that had mermaid scales and Ariel printed all over it. This hat matched the shirt and skirt combo she wore. Her shirt was two-toned, on one side was Ariel’s face, and on the other was mermaid scales while her skirt was plain white. It looked like The Little Mermaid threw up all over her. You didn’t expect anything else; it was a Disney cruise after all.

 After doing all the check-in steps, such as handing off your rolling luggage to the ship porters and taking a photo for your provided identification wrist band that the crew will use to identify you and your indicated needs, you boarded the ship. All the friendly faces you passed all looked happy to welcome you to Disney Cruises and to direct you to where you wanted to go. The noise inside was much louder inside than it was out. The kids that looked excited outside looked downright jubilant inside as they posed for pictures with life-sized Disney characters and got welcome ice cream treats.

 You were even tempted to take a picture or two, but you decided against it. What you did not decide against was ice cream. You took an offered vanilla cone and kept on your way, looking around the ship as the other guests did. From your research, this was the best-rated cruise this year. It was a newer Disney ship and one that cost over ten million dollars to design and build. Everyone said it was the Rolls Royce of Disney cruises.

From what you saw with the décor looked to have cost a fortune. There was glass, fancy lights, and marble everywhere. It was clear they didn’t skimp on funding and clear that they had the comfort and luxury in mind. There were plants around the central atrium that gave off that tropical vacation vibe and even paintings and pictures hanging on the walls that further pushed the agenda that this was supposed to be a fun time for all.

 The more you walked around looking at different areas, the more you were impressed. If the gathering areas looked this upscale, you were even more excited to see your suite.

 “Can I help you with anything, ma’am?”

 You shook your head and smiled at the man wearing Hans all over him. “I’m all right, thank you.”

 The next thirty minutes or so were spent walking around while following the map in your hand. You found and noted where the spa, library, on-ship garden, movie theater, bowling alley, tropical setting wave pool, and best restaurants and bars were. You had every intention of soaking up all the luxury that you’d paid top dollar for. When you saw a few amenities that you hadn’t expected, your jaw dropped. You had no idea why there was an ice skating rink or an indoor sky flying dome that had the tallest clear tube you’d ever seen. You didn’t know who’d designed this cruise, but you knew it must have cost millions. You were sure you wouldn’t be getting in that sky flying dome.

 When you finally got the alert that your suite was ready, it was well after one in the afternoon. The walk among the crowds was noisy. Everyone was either talking about what they wanted to do first, how enormous and beautiful the ship was, or making a plan for the cruise duration. In between all the chatter, there of course, were the screams and cries of babies and toddlers who were already losing their shit.

 This is what you’d expected when you decided on this Disney cruise over another like Carnival or Norwegian. You knew that the other passengers would be of a specific age range leaning on the younger and family-oriented side, which meant you wouldn’t have to fight off unwanted suitors who tried to shoot their shot. It also meant that you wouldn’t have to deal with any sort of drama that usually happened on a cruise with young adults all looking to hook up. That was not what you needed right now. You wanted to stay as far away from hooking up or eligible men that had blue eyes or a perfect head of hair, or abs that were chiseled by Michelangelo himself, or an ass that would make a mannequin jealous.

 On the elevator ride to your floor, you caught the eye of an adorable little boy with a complete head of luscious dark locks and doe eyes with an unmeasurable depth. His smile was innocent. Every time your eyes met his, he hid behind his mother. When you looked away, he looked back at you. After two or three playful back and forth glances, which had him becoming more adorable, you surprised him by not looking away. When he realized it, his squeal was so childlike and filled with so much glee that everyone on the elevator had to giggle. Over the next several minutes, the passengers on the elevator got off group by group until it was just a few people remaining.

 “Sixth floor,” the elevator attendant announced.

 You made your way through the door but gave the adorable boy a look. “Have a fun cruise, cutie,” you said with a wink before the doors closed with the sound of his giggles. You looked at your phone to remind yourself which room was yours, then glanced at the numbers on the wall that directed you where to go. The dinging sound of an elevator brought your attention down the hall to your right to see one man walk off. His hat was dipped down low, but you noticed his face was buried in his phone before he turned and walked in the opposite direction of you.

 Focusing on the signs on the door, you walked down the left side of the aisle. It didn’t take you long to realize your room was at the end of the hall. Once you reached it, you glanced back to see the same man with his tipped low hat. It looked like the same man from before outside the ship. It couldn’t be, you thought. The odds were not that small. As you opened your door, you saw him disappear into the room at the opposite end of the hall.

 Once you walked inside, you immediately thought that this was what you got when you had Atali handle the arrangements. The theme of the room was clearly sky blue. The couch in the living area was a satin, silky sky blue that looked as if it was plush and comfortable. It matched the blue and grain colored carpet before it perfectly, and the abstract blown glass art on the wall. The colors all worked together to give you a sense of peace. It wouldn't have been something you’d chosen because, unlike Atali, you liked to keep things as low maintenance as possible. Just because your family had money doesn’t mean you had to look or behave as if you did.

 When you walked into the bedroom portion of the stateroom, you saw your suitcases waiting for you in the far left corner of the room. The sunlight pouring in from the screened balcony bathed the room in a beautiful, cheerful yellow that was so inviting that once you kicked off your shoes, you had to step out into it. The temperature was not blazing hot because it was just the middle of April in New York, and that meant a mix of chilly and warm days with the occasional possible snow shower. The salty air of the sea was one of your favorite smells. You remembered when your father took your family to France on your yearly family vacation. As a child, you loved the beach and the salt of the sea. When you became an adult, nothing had changed.

 Not realizing how long you remained on the balcony, an intercom announcement came on.

 “Attention passengers, this is Lucas Albright, one of your captains. It is with great pleasure that I welcome you aboard this Disney Enchantment Cruise.”

 He paused, and you could hear the uproar of cheers and claps from over the intercom as well as in the halls and neighboring staterooms.

 “We are all excited to host you on this two and a half week christening journey from New York. I say christening because you lot are the first to travel on this brand new ship. This is her maiden voyage.”

 More cheers and applause came for what felt like forever.

 “We will be on this beautiful vessel for two days, at which time we dock in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic at approximately eleven o’clock in the morning, where you can enjoy plenty of the excursions and activities for the day.”

 Again applause followed. Everyone was undoubtedly excited about this cruise. You tried to get out of your funk and onboard the excitement train.

 “We will then set sail again, leaving port at ten o’clock that evening and moving on to two days at sea until we reach our second destination of Port of Grand Turk in beautiful Turks & Caicos. At that time, we dock at eleven 0’clock and lift anchors at ten o’clock. From the beautiful Turks & Caicos, we will be at sea for two days until we reach the tropical breezes of the British Virgin Islands!”

 You were already making some mental plans for everything you wanted to do at each port.

 “After spending out eleven o’clock to ten o’clock time there. We set sail to the glorious white sandy beaches of—Arrrruuuba!”

 At that time, the classic Beach Boys song Kokomo came on at the Aruba part. It was so corny, but everyone seemed to love it. You shook your head as the short clip of the song played loudly until it was lowered to play in the background.

 “Again, we’re docking at eleven o’clock to set sail again at ten o’clock. We are then at sea for three more days until we get to Ocho Rios, Jamaaaaica!”

 As he spoke, you went around the room, placing things you’d need and freshening yourself up. When he finally finished giving the itinerary, you were situated and checking the schedule of events for the day. All in all, it was set to be an action packed seventeen days at sea. Atali must have chosen this length because she knew seven or ten days would not be enough time.

 “All right, ladies, gentlemen, kids, and big kids, I hope to see you all at the welcome mingle we’ve scheduled to begin within the next twenty minutes or so, at which time we will lift anchors and say sayonara to New York and aloha to the seven seas.”

 He had a voice for radio or a game show. It was velvety deep, just what many women seemed to like these days. You grabbed your phone and crossbody bag and walked out of your room. You had a mission before you lifted anchor. Everyone was still abuzz with talk of the itinerary as more of the beach boys played over the ship speaker system. Vacation vibes were in full effect. Once you got to the media area, you promptly purchased your airtime so your cell would be able to work while at sea. You knew your mother would have a heart attack if you went two days without checking in with her. You didn’t think it was because she was that attached to her children though, you knew it was her motherly duty to remain up in the tea, so she felt continuously connected. As she got older and older, you realized it more and more.

 As soon as that mission was completed, you made your way to the top deck where the mingle was being held. As you stepped out into the sun, you marveled at just how extravagant Disney had chosen to go with this ship. Several feet before you stretching obscenely high into the air, you saw something that looked like a rollercoaster. There were plenty of other passengers pointing to it and excitedly chattering about it. You made a mental note to stay as far away from it as possible. Who would think to ride an insanely high rollercoaster on a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean?

 Slowly you walked around the deck, cordially smiling at those you passed. You passed a bar area and took one of the prepared cocktails, and proceeded to find a good spot at the side of the ship to watch them lift anchor. After several minutes of searching and bumping into all the excited kids and passengers who were posing for pictures with friends, family, and Disney staff, you found an excellent spot to press your back against.

 Across the way, a familiar hat caught your eye. It was him, you thought. He always kept his head low and tried to steer away from big crowds. It was strange to you considering he’d chosen to get on a cruise ship filled with hundreds of people. He wouldn’t be able to escape the crowds. Your eyes followed him as he walked to another bar to grab one of the drinks there. As he did, he joked with the bartender, and it was then you saw a flash of his pearly smile. You couldn’t tell if he was attractive or not, mostly since all you’d gotten were glimpses of pieces of his face. Part of you wanted him to take off the stupid hat so you could be sure, but the other part—the sensible part that remembered why you’d chosen a Disney cruise slapped your ass back into focus.

 “Welcome, Disney guests!”

 In response, everyone around you screamed, clapped, cheered, and stomped so loudly the sound could have rivaled that of a rave.

 “We are pleased to welcome you once again!”

 As one of the staff members continued to speak about the ship procedures, expectations, highlights, amenities, and more, you continued to look around the deck, taking in all the grandeur before you. It didn’t take long to get lost in the directory you held. Again you took note of where everything was that you wanted to experience and even went as far as to make a plan of what you wanted to eat each night. Between you and Atali, you were the planner. You liked things to make sense and liked them to be stable and constantly reliable. You hated the erraticness of people and impulsivity. You always tried to steer as far from it as possible.

 By the time the speeches were finished, you’d had three drinks and were working on your fourth. The vibration of your phone brought your attention to it.

 MSG Javii: Chaton?

 You rolled your eyes and sighed out a little louder than you intended. What attracted you to him in the first place was what was annoying you right now. His persistence. You sat in a nearby seat and stared at the text exchange and thought of what you wanted to reply. Five minutes passed with you not typing one word. The truth was you didn’t know what to say. You were that jumbled up. The stress of it all was making your head hurt. You rubbed your brow and began your message.

 MSG: I need some time away.

 Instantly a message came back.

 MSG Javii: From me?

 Bobbing your head from side to side, you tried to make a quick decision.

 MSG: From this—us.

 MSG Javii: Chaton, say what you mean. You know I prefer directness. Do you mean from me?

 MSG: Yes.

 A few minutes passed before he sent another message. You wondered if you’d hurt him. Part of you didn’t want to hurt him, but the other part wanted him to suffer and see what it was like to be without you. Maybe then he’d start appreciating what he had.

 MSG: I just need to figure some things out.

MSG Javii: Are you breaking up with me, Chaton?

 The name was killing you, and you were sure he knew it. Every time he called you “chaton,” it made your belly flutter.

 MSG: I just need time and space, Javii.

MSG Javii: I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything.

MSG: If that were true, I’d be there right now instead of where I am. I have to go.

 You closed your messages and sighed out again.

 “Mm, I can easily read that expression, and if any man causes brow or forehead wrinkles, he isn’t the one.”

 Your head snapped to your right to see an older woman sitting there. She wore a straw hat atop her long red hair that looked close to that of Lucille Ball’s. The hue of her hair complimented her bronze and gold complexion. Her makeup was expertly done, as was her purple painted nails that pinched the straw that was at the corner of her mouth, a mouth that was painted perfectly accentuating her cupid’s bow lips. She was gorgeous.

 “Uh--,” you began as she continued.

 “The only one who is worth it is the one who gives you cheek wrinkles and smile creases.”

You grinned to yourself and took a sip from your glass that was resting on the table between you.

 “Trust me. I’ve dated plenty of men, ones who cause both, ones who cause one more than the other and ones who only cause one—the bad ones.” She motioned to the space between her eyebrows, symbolizing stress wrinkles from furrowing your brows.

 “I have yet to meet one who only causes smile creases,” she finished.

 You shrugged and looked glanced back to your phone before you put it on the table face down.

 “Maybe that one doesn’t exist on this Earth,” you countered.

 “A skeptic, I see. You’re one of those women who don’t believe in the one, right?”

 After scoffing, you looked at her. “I don’t know what I believe. Once upon a time, I did then---things got complicated.”

 The woman placed her drink down and nudged her fist underneath her chin, giving you her complete attention.

 “Oh, complications are the joys of life, darling. Nothing is ever cut and dry or so simple and steady. I say go for the ride but make sure you hand on for the bumps.”

 You contemplated her words. There was some logic there, but once she said nothing was simple or steady, you had to admit your heart skipped a beat. You hated when things weren’t simple. You took your glass again and finished its contents. At the same time, your eye found the man who’d caught you maybe an hour ago. You watched as he walked closer to where you were seated and caught another glimpse of his face before he passed you.

 From beside you, you heard the woman whistle.

 “I wouldn’t mind going for a ride with that one.”

 Your laugh was loud and couldn’t be stopped. You shook your head at her, but she didn’t look one bit embarrassed or remorseful.

 “It’s a cruse darling, a vacation. Now’s the time to live a little—or a lot,” she said, finishing with an exaggerated wink.

 This woman was inadvertently suggesting you let your hoe flag fly for the duration of the cruise. She reminded you of your aunt Josephine from your father’s side. As a French woman, she definitely embodied the French lifestyle of only living once and to live life right the first time. You’d spent countless hours with her listening to her stories of her travels, boyfriends, escapades. You and Atali always loved to live vicariously through her. That was until Atali came of age and decided to live just like her.

 You sat with this woman who introduced herself as Genevieve and listened to her stories of life and love. Usually, you hated speaking to strangers, but she didn’t feel like one. She felt like a kindred spirit, a much more carefree spirit but still kindred the same. You didn’t realize that two hours had almost passed with the two of you sipping cocktails and giggling. When you said your goodbyes, you wandered around the ship, taking in all it had to offer. You peeked in on activities that were already underway and scoped out other places you could disappear in.

 You made it back to your room in time to shower, change, and put on a lite layer of makeup before you made it to dinner at one of the forty restaurants. Once you walked into the restaurant, the atmosphere screamed luxury though it was not opulently done. It still looked family-friendly, but it was done in a way that let you know that you were meant to feel important by the décor alone.

 At the bottom of the long stairs, you quickly looked around, trying to find an empty table. When you’d zeroed in on one, you saw a hand waving you down—the hand of the same woman from before, Genevieve. Why not, you thought to yourself before you began to cross the dining area toward her. Within a few steps, you ran right into a body that felt like a brick wall. You could feel your body falling backward, but in the nick of time, a pair of strong, muscular arms wrapped around your back, holding you in place.

If his face had been eluding you all day, it was not anymore. The eyes you stared into were blue enough that the sea you sailed would be envious. His lips were so red that an apple would want a rematch for bragging rights and his face so symmetrical that even the perfect line of symmetry didn’t seem perfect enough when next to him. The man was gorgeous. You watched his eyes roam your face as if he was in no rush, wanting to take in every detail. What felt like minutes was probably only seconds before he set you upright. As you were prepared to speak, he smiled, and the action had you feeling like you’d been hit in the head at the same time as your gut.

 “Twice in one day. What’re the odds? Are you okay?”

 Rather than speaking, you nodded.

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yes, thank you. I’m—I’m sorry,” you stuttered.

 “Nah, forget about it. No harm, no foul.”

 From behind him, you could see Genevie giving you a look that said she wanted to know what was being said and who he was.

 “I uh—I was going that way,” you said, nodding your head to behind him.

 “And me that way.” He nodded behind you. “Stay safe out there,” he uttered before he walked off in the direction you’d just come from, giving you the opportunity to walk to Genevieve.

 The look on her face needed no words to along with it, but she still spoke.

 “Is that the same snack from before?”

 You nodded and nearly snorted out, hearing her use the word.

 “What’s his name?”

 “No idea, but I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before. I just—can’t place it.”

 “I don’t know how. I’d never forget a face like that.”

 She had a point; he had an unforgettable face, one that stayed with you and possibly could haunt your nights. You bet he got whatever he wanted and whoever he wanted. As dinner progressed, you had your choice of different appetizers, entrees, drinks, and desserts. If one wanted Scandinavian food, they could get it, or southern food it was within reach. As you ate, you listened to more of Genevieve’s stories. She told you about the men she’d dated, the things she’d seen in her years, and lessons she’d learned from those men. The moral you learned from her stories was love often, love hard, and love entirely because while you’d remember the pain, you’d remember the love more.

 As you ate and listened to her, you couldn’t help but think of the reason you were on this cruise in the first place. You were not running to love but from it. If you were to listen to Genevieve, you should have stayed your ass in New York and gone to Javii. If you listened to her, you’d probably spend another year living in sin. By the end of dinner, you’d met three other women all within the same age range as you, but they all were in different times of their lives. One was newlywed, and on her honeymoon, the second married a year and expecting her first child and the third long married with three children.

 It was an interesting look at alternate timelines for you. Any of them could have ended up being you if you’d only made different choices. Part of you wondered which one you wanted to be more, your natural self, or one of the three possibilities.

 After dinner, you made your way to one of the theaters to watch the planned show for the night. It was a re-enactment of The Little Mermaid, and the audience was filled with little ones who clapped and cheered throughout. You were surprised at how well the staff performed. They could have easily been true broadway stars. A little more than halfway through the show, you found the stranger with the deep eyes across the room. He was sitting alone, just watching the show with a relaxed look on his face. He looked as if he were genuinely enjoying it. Your curiosity was piqued as to why he was sitting alone watching The Little Mermaid on a ship full of people and why he didn’t seem to be bothered to make acquaintances. Who came on a cruise alone? Once you thought it, you wanted to laugh at yourself. You were the one to come on a cruise alone.

 As you were about to look away, his eyes found yours. At first, they looked empty as if he were looking right through you. Then after a few moments, there was a spark in them. You watched him raise his glass to you with a soft smile teasing his lips. Realizing you’d been caught looking, you curtly nodded back then looked to the stage to focus on the show.

 Two in the morning. That was the time when you finally made it back to your room. Festivities were going on all around the ship. No one seemed as if they wanted to go back to their rooms. There was something for everyone. The little ones had endless activities, including a sleepover with their favorite Disney characters, where they were set to have plenty of fun for the night. There was a mixer set up like a rave on the opposite side of the ship for the adults. From the things you saw when you scoped it out, you were sure a few siblings were going to be conceived tonight.

 As you scanned your bracelet and opened your door, you looked back to see the stranger again. He was looking directly down at you. You gave him a head salute and disappeared inside your room. After a quick shower, you found your way to your balcony to watch the waves roll by with a glass of wine. It was the perfect end to the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[nightlock-1989]

Side-Parts and Skinny Jeans

A short story about what happens when Millennials find out Gen Z is ripping on their precious side-parts and skinny jeans.

Context: I am a 31 year old proud Millennial. I graduated in 2007. One day, scrolling through Tik Tok, I kept seeing things about old people and their side-parts and skinny jeans. I googled it and what do you know? Forget the Boomers because the Zoomers are targeting us now. Thought it might make a good Everlark story. You can also find it on AO3 here.

Takes place in September so that school could be in person again. Enjoy!

September 2021              

The first week back when school begins is always taxing on both the students and staff. Add in 18 months of virtual learning at home and it’s a surprise that everyone isn’t already passed out in Haymitch Abernathy’s yard a victory.

It’s always been a tradition. The principal hosts the school staff the first Friday after the school year begins for a barbeque and alcohol. Normally alcohol is always aplenty since it’s Haymitch but this year everyone is a little even more stressed.

Effie Trinket, the school secretary is walking around with a tray of Jell-O shots.

“Thanks, Trinkie,” Haymitch gruffs before slurping down a green one and handing one to the English teacher Peeta Mellark. He hesitates briefly before Delly Cartwright, pulls it out of his hands and slurps it down.

“Very nice,” Haymitch remarks.

“Thank you, Mr. Abernathy,” she responds.

“You know you can call him, Haymitch; right?” Finnick O’Dair, history teacher, reminds.

“HA,” Peeta responds.

“He’ll always be Mr. Abernathy,” Delly tells.

“You’re 28,” Finnick says

“Doesn’t matter,” Katniss Everdeen, biology teacher and Peeta Mellark’s lifelong crush strides forward.

“Sweetheart,” Haymitch gestures.

“Mr. Abernathy,” Katniss greets.

Peeta and Delly both point fingers at Finnick.

“Grill’s ready,” Effie hollers.

Katniss takes a Jell-O shot and sighs before tipping it back.

“Is this the first time we’ve all drank together?” Delly asks gesturing between Peeta and Katniss.

Katniss, Peeta, and Delly were in the same grade at District 12 high; however, only Delly and Peeta hung out. Katniss kept to herself for the most part, having a difficult life. Katniss was the newest hire at District 12, having transferred over from 8 last year. She didn’t attend last year’s barbeque to Peeta’s sadness.

When Peeta saw Katniss in the auditorium for in-staff training, he nearly fainted and when he realized she lived in the same apartment village, he thought he would have a heart attack. Although she still sports her signature braid every now and then, she’s taken to wearing her hair down and walks with a new-found confidence that has only made her sexier. Everyone knows how much he likes her, except Katniss.

“Probably,” Katniss answers heading over to the kiddie pool filled with beer. She bends down to pick one up, giving Peeta the perfect view of her ass. Her jeans fit like a second glove and Delly smacks Peeta in the chest to get him to stop gawking.

The food is ready, and everyone dishes up. The alcohol and conversation flow generously.

Haymitch begins telling a story about how for seniors, they have alternatives for the seniors who have a lot of detentions left to serve. Instead of serving one detention at a time, they can pick up trash or volunteer for a student event.

“So, we needed someone to remove the gum from under all the auditorium seats.”

Katniss groans.

“All 896. I offer to free up 4 detentions. Sweetheart had 12. No one is taking it, but I can tell that I’ve got some interest peaked. I get up to 7 and Katniss sees Johanna about to pounce. She screams, “I volunteer, I volunteer.””

“Well, I wasn’t the only one who volunteered,” Katniss reminds before looking at Peeta.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t even the butt of this story. Then, the boy over here,” he says while gesturing to Peeta who puts his face into his hands, “also volunteers. I was only looking for one.”

“You let us both though,” Katniss says.

“The deal was for seven detentions total,” Haymitch emphasizes.

“But seven of mine did get wiped out,” Katniss says.

“Exactly,” Haymitch points out. “The boy didn’t even have any detentions.”

Everyone but Peeta and Katniss roar with laughter.

“Wait, what? I’m so confused,” Katniss says more to herself because she’s at that point of intoxication.

“You really always have been Brainless,” Johanna Mason, physical education teacher teases. “Let’s get another beer,” she says, pulling Katniss with her.

Delly’s phone chimes so she takes a look. Peeta, still mortified is keeping his eyes on the two girls but he stops staring when he hears, “Miss Cartwright, Miss Everdeen, Miss Mason.”

“What’s that,” he asks looking towards her phone. Delly has open the Tik Tok app and the short video shows video of the respective teachers at the same time as their name.

“Side parts and skinny jeans…….so old,” the voice in the video adds.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Delly shrieks as she chucks her beer bottle into the yard.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Johanna asks.

Delly is in such a mini-rage that she picks up her fold up chair and also chucks that off of the deck. She reaches for the outdoor end table before Finnick grabs her wrist and pulls her into him.

“Are you okay, Delly?” Katniss attempts to rush forward but trips in the process. Peeta rushes to help her up.

“We,” Delly emphasizes by pointing to all the young teachers, “have all had to deal with fucking everything. School shootings, terrorist attacks on live TV, two fucking wars, the housing market crashing, a great fucking recession, $4.00 gallons of gas, a global pandemic, ANOTHER FUCKING RECESSION….and now THIS. I’M NOT EVEN 30,” she finishes before letting out a guttural moan. Katniss leans in closer to Peeta, obviously scared before Johanna marches up to Delly who is holding up her phone.

They all crowd around and watch the offending video. It is showing the various female teachers and on the bottom is a tally marking all the women who have a side part and skinny jeans.

Johanna is first to break the silence by grabbing her folding chair and hurling it off the deck.

“Those little Tide-Pod eating Zoomers can go rot in hell.”

“Yeah, why can’t they just nearly succumb to alcohol poisoning in the cornfield like we did?” Delly cries.

“I like my side part,” Katniss says to herself.

“I have full-bodied hair. A middle part is boring,” Delly whines.

“Do they want us to wear the stupid mom jeans that they’re donning?” Johanna volleys back.

“Would they like it if we just went back to fucking ultra-low-rise jeans and had our thongs on display again because I’m not going back to that, Finnick,” Delly sobs into his chest.

“I didn’t say anything,” Finnick interjects staring cluelessly at Peeta.  “Wait, wasn’t this like a thing in the spring?”

“They didn’t make a fricken Tik Tok that specifically targeted us then” Johanna states.

“Does this mean I have to give up my skinny jeans?” Katniss asks to the empty space next to her.

“Don’t even think that, your ass looks fantastic in them,” Peeta answers.

Everyone goes quiet and stares at Peeta. He is perplexed before he realizes he actually said that out loud.

“No—I didn’t mean that,” Peeta begins before backtracking, “You know what, I didn’t mean that either…. I’m just going to go over there.” He heads down the deck stairs and grabs one of the chairs and plops down on it.

There is an awkward silence before Finnick says, “you should just side part your hair even harder.”

All three girls light up before agreeing. Katniss looks out and sees Peeta sitting alone. Delly tilts her head in a “go talk to him” motion, Finnick smiles and nods, and Johanna mimics a blow job.

Katniss orders an Uber before she heads over to Peeta.

“Peeta,” Katniss begins. He looks up with such sadness that Katniss interrupts him before he can even start, “Why’d you volunteer?”

“Um,” he stalls. “You know what, fuck it,” he resigns. “I had a huge crush on you growing up and I just wanted a reason to hang out with you.”

“So, you volunteered to remove chewing gum off hundreds of seats during our spring break?”

“Yep,” he answers with a pop.

“You know you only said like four words that whole time we were cleaning up?”

“That’s because when I’m around you, I feel like a mumbling idiot. Even now, 10 years after high school, you make me feel like- “He is interrupted by Katniss’s lips. She pulls back and smiles.

“Um, how drunk are you?”

“Definitely Ubering……. but I’ll definitely remember this in the morning.” She leans in again. He breaks apart long enough for him to stand and continue the kiss. Cheering can be heard from the deck causing both of them to laugh.

“Did you mean what you said about how good I look in these skinny jeans?”

“They look amazing on you.”

She leans up and whispers in his ear, “I think they’d look a lot better on your bedroom floor.” An alert sounds on Katniss’s phone. “Uber is here.”

Peeta wastes no time in grabbing her hand and practically dragging her to the car.

Effie comes out with another round of Jell-O-Shots while Haymitch grabs one.

“To young love,” he says.

“To side parts,” Delly adds.

“To skinny jeans,” Johanna finishes.

“We’re going to tease them mercilessly on Monday; right?” Finnick asks.

“Duh,” Delly states while everyone laughs.

Monday morning comes around and true to what Finnick suggested, their side parts are more pronounced, and they are all donning skinny jeans, their own form of mini rebellion.

And once again, Katniss’s pair ends up on Peeta’s floor that night.