#because I feel like an idiot for writing this

[amoscontorta]

Control | ao3 | the Sylus series

Summary:

You are feeling a bit depressed after completing a mission that didn't go 100% the way you wanted. Mephisto, and then Sylus, pay you a visit to cheer you up.

Notes:

Sylus x gn reader, Sylus x mc, second person POV, a little Sylus POV This is not actually strictly part of the Sylus series, but rather a bit of an interlude outside of the series I'm writing because it doesn't advance the plot and I don't know where I'd fit it in. I was having an awful day earlier this week and wrote this purely to make myself feel better. I hope it does the same for others. It doesn't contain all the same triggers as the series (but I'd still advise checking the CWs) and can be read as a standalone if you'd like. This story contains: sfw, pure self-indulgent hurt/comfort for overachievers who, despite doing their very best, still feel like they didn't do enough, fluff, banter, tender Sylus, clingy Sylus, still-bit-of-a-jerk-Sylus, CWs: grief, discussion of the realities of law enforcement and innocent civilian death as a result of criminal activity, violence typical of the game and Sylus's criminal tendencies, mention of slight depression and feelings of emptiness.

Here you are, again. It has been a long day, a long week, a long month. You’ve been called out almost every shift to counter an increased spurt of wanderer attacks, while also trying to execute a carefully orchestrated undercover mission to stem the tide of illegal modified protocore weapons that recently flooded the black market by arms smugglers.

No, not Sylus. He’s too clever to put himself on the Association’s radar for his arms dealing in a way that could result in a trap being set for him.

No, the idiots you were going after couldn’t hold a candle to Sylus.

But their activity resulted in civilians being caught in the crossfire, and you had spent the last month seeing firsthand the carnage left behind after a gang battle erupted on the outskirts of Linkon City. You forced yourself to look at the broken bodies and broken families of the people affected, boots crunching on shattered glass, trailing bloody footprints on the cracked tarmac of the street. You would not allow your… situationship with Sylus to blind you to the reality of what his line of work could do to people. People just trying to live their lives, make their rent, raise their children–to survive a life that’s already painful and short enough already, without people like the assholes you just finished bringing down tonight arming other assholes with weapons that no one should be able to access. Weapons designed with one purpose in mind: maximum damage, minimum finesse. Weapons designed as if collateral damage is a feature and not a bug.

You’re tired. Days like this have always happened to you, even before you became a Hunter. The lethargy seeping through your body, the disinterest in doing anything that normally makes you happy. You lie on your bed, staring blankly through your gauzy curtains, the autumn wind driving the intermittent raindrops against the glass of your window. Each one a crystalline jewel, splattering, liquid diamonds trailing down the pane like tears. 

You have the evening stretching before you, and you want to enjoy it, you do. But you can’t seem to make yourself get up, as your mind drifts to the images you made yourself engrave in your brain. The least those people deserved was you to bear witness, and ensure that you never forget, since your work as a Hunter came too late to help them, in the end. 

You turn your gaze away from the gloomy late afternoon, let it wander over the riot of plants hanging from your ceiling and along the shelving in your room. Life continues. Proof of it is right here in your bedroom, the plants turning carbon dioxide into oxygen for you to breathe with your healthy lungs. You’re fine. You’ll be fine.

Before, you might have dropped in on your grandmother, making her a meal and sharing it in quiet companionship. If Caleb weren’t on a flight mission, you might have asked him to go on a run or to the gym with you, worked off some of this jittery aggression on the mats or by pushing your lungs past their capacity in an effort to leave him laughing in your dust.

But they’re gone now, of course. Victims of the same type of assholes you took down today.

You should be reveling in the success of your mission, but all you can see is the still form of one victim in particular, a snapshot in your memory of their slender wrist, their half-opened hand, lying in the street amongst the glittering shards of glass and scorch marks on the asphalt.

This empty feeling will pass. You know that. You have enough life experience to understand that feelings like this, moods like this, ebb and flow like Rafayel’s tide. So what if it’s harder now, to pull yourself out of them when you find yourself drifting in this sorrowful sea, because your support network has been washed away? That doesn’t mean you’ll feel like this forever. Only that it might take a little longer to drag your tired body off the bed, to refill your empty tank and survive and maybe enjoy another day.

Suddenly, you hear a tapping. You turn your head back to the window. Mephisto is perched on the other side of the glass, gently pecking the pane. He tilts his head and regards you with one glittering red eye.

You haven’t seen Sylus for several weeks now, both of you busy with your respective occupations, and you, doubly busy with the undercover mission. He has sent photos, here and there–blurry pictures of a black cat, a flock of birds in flight against an evening sky, the setting sun’s rays the color of fire and blood. He has asked how you’re doing, and you’ve lied and said you’re fine. He sent you a photo of a glass of wine on a low table near a roaring fire. “You should be here,” he’d captioned it.

Despite all of your complicated feelings about who he is, who he was to you when you first met him, what he does to afford his huge open hearth fireplace and all the finest things in life, you wished you were there with him too.

But you weren’t, and you haven’t been for awhile now. Over the past few weeks, you’ve seen Mephisto in the trees, heard his grating call over the sounds of traffic. But he hasn’t approached you, until today. Normally you would play your typical cat and mouse game with him, or rather, crow and worm, and you’d grab your paintball gun and see how good your aim is as he flaps outside your window, or you’d lure him in with a treat and lock him in the bathroom and wait and see how long it takes Sylus to send Luke and Kieran to set him free. You like to think of it as enrichment activities for both the crow and his owner–you’re not going to make it easy for Sylus to stalk you. He might get bored, after all.

But you just don’t have it in you, today. You slip off the bed and pad to the window, throwing it open. Rain mists your face, drawing goosebumps up your bare arms. Mephisto watches you, and caws softly. You’d call it a coo, if it wasn’t such a horrible sound. Much like his owner’s attempt at a lullaby. You back away, slip back onto the bed. If he’d like to come in, he’s welcome.

You return to staring at your bedroom walls. After a while, you hear the flapping of wings, and suddenly Mephisto lands next to you on the duvet. He shakes his mechanical feathers, and water droplets are flung onto the fabric and the mountain of pillows.

“Thanks, buddy,” you murmur, watching as he uses his beak to groom himself. It’s uncanny, sometimes, how alive-acting he is. Like a real bird. You’ve always wanted a pet. You know that Sylus insists that Mephisto is not a pet, but you really can’t see the difference. Mephisto clearly likes his owner, and does his job dutifully, and sometimes you think, with great pleasure. He drops little destroyed bits of surveillance hardware at Sylus’s feet on occasion, like a real crow bringing something shiny to a human who was previously kind to him. 

Curiously, but without much expectation, you extend your hand to the bird. He hops backward, away from you, but remains on the bed. “May I pet you?” you ask.

He cocks his head, makes soft little chirruping noises in his mechanical throat. You let your hand fall to the duvet, palm up, and close your eyes. It’s nice to have company, in any case.

After a while, you feel him hopping again, and then something cold and smooth hesitantly nudges your palm. You open your eyes. Mephisto is gently pecking your palm. He nudges it, then bobs his head, observing you with his beautiful ruby eye.

“Is that a yes?” you ask. In response, he sits down, nestling into your duvet. You lift your hand, and he lets you run your fingertips along the top of his head and along the smooth, cool metal feathers along his back. 

Every few minutes, he ruffles his feathers and readjusts his position, slowly inching his way closer to you on the bed. Finally, he is resting against your thigh, within easy reach of your hand, head tucked into one of his wings like he’s ready for a nap.

The open window lets the brisk, rainy autumn evening in, and the light slowly fades. Eventually, you manage to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

And this is how Sylus finds you, towards midnight. He lets himself in through your front door, using the fingerprint scanner he reprogrammed to accept his own as well as yours. He enjoyed seeing the look on your face, when you figured out that’s how he had gotten into your apartment without the key you had offered and he had refused. Your angry facial expression is worth more than all of his dragon’s hoard of wealth, in his trustworthy opinion.

He notes that the temperature in your apartment is surprisingly cool, even through the warm wool of his thick black coat. He had sent Mephisto to check on you, but he hasn’t managed to get an update since the bird was tapping at your window, sending back images to Sylus’s phone of you lying on the bed in your sleep clothes, awake, but not looking at your phone or watching your wall-screen, even though it hadn’t even been dinner time yet. He had told himself not to worry, that you were probably just tired after the past grueling month. But now he is worrying. He slides off his black monk strap shoes, and places them neatly along your entryway wall. Despite the faint worry edging up his spine, he takes the time to neatly line up your own hastily kicked off boots next to his, because he also worries that you’re going to trip and break your neck one of these days on all the shit you just leave scattered around on your floor, too exhausted to immediately tidy them up and put them away.

He makes his way through your dark apartment, picking up discarded clothing and folding them over his arm to put in your laundry basket, and quietly steps into your bedroom. 

No wonder it’s cold in here–your window is wide open. It’s no longer raining, but the chill night air drifts into your bedroom and stirs the leaves of your indoor plants. You’re buried in your duvet, curled around an equally nestled Mephisto, who deigns to lift his head from where he had it tucked under his wings. He caws softly, as if to tell Sylus to be quiet and to not wake Sylus’s sweet little Hunter.

“This is dereliction of duty,” Sylus quietly scolds the bird, lifting the lid of your laundry basket next to your closet and neatly putting the clothes inside. He goes to the window and shuts it, and then draws the gauzy as well as the blackout curtains against the night outside. He returns to the living room, hangs up his coat, and brings a glass of water back to your bedroom.

He leans over the bed and pokes Mephisto. “You’re in my spot.” The bird puffs up his feathers a little in indignation and caws quietly.

“Nope, out. You’ve had your turn.” Sylus prods him again, and finally Mephisto ruffles his wings, hops to his feet, and flaps off to the living room, making disgruntled noises as he goes. Sylus sympathizes, but doesn’t feel guilty at all for dislodging him from your side. It’s Sylus’s turn now.

He slips out of his slacks, pulls his sweater and undershirt over his head, and slides under the blanket next to you. You sigh in your sleep, frowning a little, and Sylus runs his finger between your eyebrows, smoothing the furrow there. If he could, he’d reach into your dreams and crush anything that would cause such an expression on your face in his bare hands. Unfortunately, that’s not one of the perks of the aether core in his eye. He settles for plastering his body against your back and wrapping an arm around you, running his nose along your neck and inhaling the scent of your hair. The distance between Linkon City and the N109 zone is getting harder and harder for him to handle gracefully.

While you’ve been busy taking down the low level morons playing at being arms smugglers, Sylus has also been busy for the past few weeks, negotiating deals, consolidating his power, tightening his grip in his efforts to acquire a monopoly on the illegal protocore arms trade in both the N109 zone and Linkon City. He’s making progress, but his work is not yet done. He’s tired, and he has spent every day of the past month missing you. Now that he knows your latest mission is over, he intends to soak in your presence for as long as you’re available, before he has to head back out into the cold gloom without you again.

Sylus closes his eyes. Just for a moment. He’ll check in on some online auctions in a few minutes, review the stock market moves of the day and reconsider investments, but for just this moment, he’ll hold you in his arms, and warm your cold hands in his warm palms.

And that’s how you find yourself waking up in the early hours of the morning, a big warm body pressed against yours. You blink, note the time of two in the morning. You reach out and feel around, setting your bedside lamp to its dimmest setting so that you can see in the pitch-black room. You turn your head, and find Sylus’s sleeping face on the pillow next to yours, looking more peaceful than he ever appears when awake. The furrow between his brows is almost nonexistent, and his mouth is soft, plush lips parted a little. In this moment, you can imagine him as a little boy, angelic in sleep, mischievous while awake. Your heart hurts a little, imagining what kind of life that little boy had to endure to become the sleeping panther next to you tonight.

You turn fully, brush your nose against his, and then cuddle into him, head tucked into his neck. You breathe him in. He smells like warm, sleepy Sylus, a little sweaty under the duvet. You resist the urge to lick him.

“This is the best way to wake up from a nap,” his hoarse, sleep-filled voice vibrates through you.

You laugh softly. “Good, because this is the only package we offer tonight. No refunds.”

“I wouldn’t dream of returning this experience.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

You both lie like that for a while, the sound of the wind outside and your combined quiet breathing the only sounds filtering through the room.

You had fallen asleep feeling empty, but waking up with this elusive man in your bed has you feeling sated. Refueled. Full. You sigh. How is it possible that a man who is responsible for the same things as those assholes you apprehended yesterday can make you feel like this? You remember that person lying in the street, eyes that will never see again, a parent who will never come home again. As if they were just sleeping. But as you stood over them, you knew better–your heart was the gravity well of a black hole, and you felt like you would fold in on yourself from the weight. If only you had been a little quicker, a little cleverer. If only you could disintegrate another human being like Sylus can, with just a gesture. You could have disappeared the assholes who were responsible for this person’s death, an entire life, someone’s baby at some point, brought into the world with love and effort and surviving each and every day, right up until the day you found yourself standing over them, as they lay broken in the street. And they died, for what? For some senseless, stupid feud over money? Turf? A feud they had absolutely nothing to do with. Fuck . You’re feeling sick again.

You burrow deeper into Sylus’s warmth.

“Speak,” Sylus says.

You pull back slightly and look up into his sleep-bleary face.

“Speak?”

“Are we a parrot tonight?” He smiles, eyes heavy-lidded.

“A parrot?”

“And a comedian, ladies and gentlemen,” he leans forward, nuzzles your nose with his.

“Don’t get too close, I probably have morning breath,” you murmur.

“Ah, so you can formulate your own thoughts.” He nuzzles the side of your mouth. “Do I look like a give a fuck if you have morning breath? I probably do too.”

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then you yawn, widely. 

He runs his hand down your side and pinches your hip. You yelp.

“Don’t change the subject,” he commands. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I can hear it racing from here–I’m pretty sure it’s what woke me up from my pleasant nap.”

“Oh, did I disturb his royal highness’s beauty sleep?”

“Yes, so you owe me. The compensation is telling me what had you staring into the void yesterday, and what made you sound so sad just now while enjoying being wrapped in my extraordinary arms. Many people would pay a lot to be in the position you’re in right now,” he says smugly.

“Yes, in order to slit your throat.”

He huffs. You note that he’s wrong; you’re probably the only one with morning breath. He somehow manages to just smell good. Toothpaste and mouth. You want to lick his teeth. “You’re probably not wrong.” He pauses. “Please talk to me. I’ve gotten used to hearing your worries. You can shut everyone else out, but I don’t like it when you shut me out too.”

You roll away from him, but his arm around you prevents you from going far. You glance at your windows, but the blackout curtains block even the city lights. 

“I’ve just. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things over the past few weeks.”

“Uh oh. Nothing ever good comes from that,” he teases. You swat him in the chest. His body shakes with quiet laughter.

“Do you want to know or not?” you gripe.

“It’s not my fault that you didn’t make it clear that you won’t be accepting editorial commentary at this time. But I’ve learned my lesson. Continue.”

You throw your arm over your eyes and laugh. You can’t help it. Even when you’re feeling at your worst, this man manages to make you laugh. But you feel guilty for laughing, because the person you can’t get out of your head, this stranger who you were unable to save, will never laugh again. You hate it.

You sigh. “I’ve always struggled with the fact that my evol seems to have only a support function. Like, I often need a partner in order to be optimally effective in battle against wanderers, because otherwise it’s just me and whatever my physical talents are. Which, though amazing,” you sniff, “are often just, not enough when dealing with the kind of creatures that I often have to deal with.” You fall silent, imagining if you could set shit on fire like Rafayel without resorting to a flamethrower, or freezing a swathe of enemies all at once like Zayne. The battles you would wage would be epic.

“And I’m obviously competent at eliminating wanderers–I can usually arrive before the damage occurs. I can actually help people. And wanderers, they’re not like human perpetrators. They have no ill intent. They’re like animals, driven by instinct. Even when I do arrive too late, it feels more like a natural disaster than a malicious injustice. Of course, it’s still awful when someone dies for something so senseless, but that’s been the case for all of humanity’s history in the face of stronger predators.” Your mind races. You’re trying so hard to articulate what has been weighing on you. “But that’s only one part of my job. The other side of it, the side that involves going after humans with ill-intent, that’s a lot more complicated. So often, I arrive after the damage has already been done. I feel like the cleanup crew, completely useless to the normal people who just are trying to get through the day who get caught up in other peoples’ cruelty. It’s not like evil assholes announce their arrival with a metaflux fluctuation like wanderers do. I’m just.. too late, too often.” You try to imagine everything you’d do if you had Sylus’s power. You’d probably turn into a supervillain too, to be honest.

You fall quiet again. Sylus props his head on his hand and runs a finger along your clavicle with his free hand. You enjoy the feel of his calloused fingertip along your skin.

“And what else? I’m sensing there’s more to this story.”

You don’t want to hurt him. But you also don’t want to lie to him. “I just can’t reconcile the fact that I spent the last month tracking down the arms smugglers that I managed to catch yesterday, and I’d have gladly killed them if given half a chance. If I could snap my fingers like you, and just fucking annihilate them. But here I am, lying here in bed, with you.” You can’t bring yourself to look him in the face as you say this.

You feel Sylus’s fingers begin to trail up your forearm and gently encircle your wrist, pulling your arm away from your eyes. You turn and look into his face. 

“I’m certainly glad you’re not in bed with them now, sweetheart,” he says drily. “I don’t think there would be room for all of us, what with your army of plushies and my impressive physique.”

You groan.

“So let me get this straight. You’re upset because you feel like your skills aren’t sufficient to protect every single person who is in need of help. You’re upset that you can’t kill with a thought. And you’re upset because you would have killed these guys, who are in the same business as me, but you refuse to do the same to me?”

It sounds so simple, succinctly listed like that, for how heavy your heart feels. For the emptiness you felt, instead of triumph, after successfully protecting a lot of people over the last month, and getting a few more petty dealers off the street so they can't contribute to hurting anyone else in the future.

The bit about Sylus being the same as those criminals, without meeting their fate, on the other hand. That doesn’t sound simple at all.

You nod. “Instead of feeling like I did well, and taking the free time I have after I’ve completed a job to enjoy myself, or do something that makes me happy, all I can do is think about all the ways I failed, or how could have done it better, or how I’m still not doing everything I should be doing to help people. That’s why I was …staring at the void, as you put it. I couldn’t imagine one thing that I wanted to do with the free evening I had.”

Sylus pokes you in the forehead. “I knew you were arrogant, and greedy. I just never realized how much until this moment,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

You jerk back from his touch. “I pour my heart out to you, and you call me arrogant and greedy?” He lifts his eyebrows at your outburst. “The fuck, Sylus?”

“Quiet, or you’ll wake Mephisto.” He drapes an arm back over you and pulls you back into his warmth.

“Oh nooo, wouldn’t want to wake your mechanical murder bird,” you bite out, but quietly. You feel like you have a new understanding with Mephisto now that he let you pet him and you shared a nap with him. It’s not his fault that his owner is an insensitive asshole.

“No, we wouldn’t,” he agrees placidly. “Would you care to know why I am rightfully pointing out that your attitude about what you 'should' be capable of is arrogant and greedy? Or do you just want to stay upset about it for a little longer? I can wait.”

You scowl at him. “Oh, I’m happy to wait if you keep looking at me like that,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

You put your palm on his face and push him away. He rolls away with a soft laugh.

“Just tell me,” you grumble. “And then go home. I’m suddenly not feeling like company anymore.”

“Hmm,” he props himself back up on his hand. “You have an incredibly powerful aether core in your heart, one that is coveted by countless people.” He rests his other hand over your heart as he speaks. “You've recently increased its power by absorbing the power of another aether core. You can heal other evolvers, resonate with them to exponentially increase their power, and probably do a lot more than you’re aware of yet. You’ve probably not even scratched the surface of what it can do for you.” 

You look away, but enjoy the press of his palm against you.

“You have extraordinary physical capabilities–I’m not just patronizing you when I said that I’d rather have you at my back than anyone else I know, even without your evol.” He reaches for your cheek, and gently tilts your head to look at him again. His wine-dark gaze drifts over your face. “And you’re not the only Hunter in the Association. If only one person were capable of doing your job, there would be no Association at all. You can’t expect to be one-hundred percent successful, one-hundred percent of the time. Not even I am greedy enough to feel like I should be able to have that kind of success rate. And I’m also not arrogant enough to expect that of myself. I can’t run Onychinus alone. I rely on many subordinates and competent people to take care of the business when my attention is elsewhere.” He looks at you pointedly, as if you’re the elsewhere slurping up all of his attention.

You blow a raspberry at him.

More quickly than you thought he could move, he snatches your tongue between his thumb and forefinger and gently wags it. His skin is salty. “Da thuck, Thylus?”

“Keep it in your mouth if you don’t want me to take it,” he wags it once more, as if to emphasize his point, and then lets go. “Next time I won’t give it back.”

You suppress the urge to just slobber all over his face in retaliation.

“So yes. I find the expectations you have for yourself to be arrogant and greedy, and entirely excessive. Do you think that your colleagues are failures, or haven't done enough, when they return from missions that went tits up, or when they failed to protect one hundred percent of those threatened?"

You scowl. Of course not. You know that they work their asses off to the best job they can. You'd never think less of them for having a bad day, or a bad mission. For people dying on their watch. But they're not you.

"Kitten, you’re doing your best, with everything you have in you. The world is cruel, and so are the people in it. You can’t control that. But you can control what you do about that cruelty. You're already fighting as hard as you can--too hard, if you want my valuable opinion."

"Trying as hard as I can with as much hardware and bodywork I can exploit. But it's just no the same as having your evol," you grumble. You might be slightly jealous of Sylus's power. Just slightly. 

Sylus huffs, sounding a little impatient. "If it's not enough for you to be a walking grenade launcher, and you're frustrated that you can’t disintegrate those you want to eliminate with a snap of your fingers, just bring me with you. You can control me, and I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

You just stare at him, mouth hanging open a little. He lifts his hand and chucks you under your chin with his thumb to close it. “Why so shocked?”

“Aside from the fact that you just offered to murder for me?” you ask, shaking your head a little.

“I already have murdered for you. I’d do a lot more than that, for you.” He pulls you into his side again and rests his head on your shoulder. “So don’t be too greedy. You're already very talented at what you do. You have control over the most powerful person in the N109 zone. The people you work to protect every single day are lucky that you are on the Association’s side, and not anyone else’s. You can’t save the entire world from injustice. But you can continue doing your best, with your already impressive skills, to protect as many people as you can. And if anyone tries to tell you that what you’re doing isn’t enough, you can send them to me. Including yourself. I will take care of them for you.”

You turn your head and rest your cheek in his silky hair. You breathe deeply and feel your heart settle in your chest. You notice that he hasn’t addressed the fact that he’s involved in the same business as the people you took down yesterday. But you don’t care. You know, somehow, in the calm beating of your heart, that he isn’t anything like them. He isn’t anything like them at all.

Your thoughts drift to a slender wrist, to an open palm. You will never forget this person. Hopefully you can honor them, in some small way, by continuing to force yourself to look, and not surrendering to the horror of it. You will keep going. Maybe next time, you'll arrive in time. You hope it is enough. And you'll also try to hear what Sylus is telling you. All you can give is your everything. No one can ask more of you than that, even if it's you who is asking.

As you continue rubbing your cheek in his hair like a cat, he speaks again. "And as for you not arresting me... or taking advantage of your position and slitting my throat." You freeze. You thought maybe you could just pretend you hadn't expressed this worry tonight. "Have you ever considered the possibility that, in order to treat an infection, it's not sufficient to just address the symptoms?"

For a second you feel like you can hear Zayne coming out of Sylus's mouth, and you're totally weirded out. "What do you mean?" you reluctantly ask.

"Sometimes, the only way to destroy a rotten core is to work from the inside out. It's not enough to desperately amputate the affected limbs. And that kind of work requires getting your hands dirty."

You feel like he just told you something very important. But you can also sense that he won't explain anything else tonight. This is the closest the two of you have ever gotten to actually discussing the substance of his work, and you're satisfied with that. The certainty you felt before, about him being utterly different than the others, settles deeper into your bones. You relax into him again.

“And your last worry. About not knowing what to do with yourself when you’ve completed something extraordinary, and find yourself with some free time on your hands… just call me. We can figure out what to do together.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. If you do, you might start crying and not be able to stop. He is everything you needed tonight. You just press closer into him, hoping he can hear everything you can’t say out loud yet.

“So, still not feeling like company anymore?” Sylus asks, after you’ve sat in peaceful silence for a few moments. “Or am I allowed to stay?”

“Would you go even if I asked you to?” You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair, and he makes a pleased noise deep in his throat.

“If I thought that was what you really wanted, sweetheart.”

And you believe him.

[itneverendshere]

hii i love your writing !! so i saw your comment on said it a million times, only stay with you one more night where you said that rafe is catching feelings only to fuck it up all over when he ignores her in public and i was wondering if you could write a second part where that happens ?

hiiii! thank you sm for the compliment and for the request 🫂 Hope you enjoy ❤️

been busy digging out her grave - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe

working at lila’s restaurant was something you usually tried to avoid, but since she was short-staffed today and needed your help, you figured why not? it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. plus, you owed her a favor. so, there you were, tying your apron on in front of the mirror in the back, trying to pep talk yourself into surviving a day dealing with kooks and tourists.

the air inside always smelt of fried food and coffee, the kind that clung to your clothes no matter how many showers you’d take. you slid out from the back, letting the swing door creak behind you as you moved to the counter, mentally preparing yourself to smile at whatever entitled ass came through the door.

it wasn’t until about halfway through your shift, wiping down the counter and refilling coffee cups, that you noticed them. and by them, you mean him. rafe.

you stopped dead in your tracks for a second, the plates hot in your hands. your breath caught in your throat like you’d swallowed an entire lemon. he strolled in with his pack of kook friends like they owned the place—probably felt like they did too. topper, kelce, and a couple of girls whose names you couldn’t be bothered to remember followed him, laughing loudly, taking up space in that obnoxious way only people like them could.

he didn’t even glance in your direction as they settled into one of the corner booths. not even a look of recognition, but you’d told him you were working here for the day.

just last night, he had you pinned against his bed again, telling you, again, how much he wanted you to stay, whispering that shit in your ear.

now? he acted like you were invisible. un-fucking-believable. one minute he was texting you at 2 a.m., asking you to come over, and the next, he was pretending like you didn’t exist. all because he didn’t want his perfect little kook world knowing he was messing around with a pogue. and that was okay before. until he started asking you to stay, and you did.

apparently, you were a fucking idiot because here you were, pissed off that he couldn’t even look you in the eye.

you grabbed the menus, biting back the urge to roll your eyes, and walked over to their table. “here are your menus,” you said flatly, shoving one in each of their faces without the fake cheer you’d reserved for the tourists.

the girls barely acknowledged you, too busy giggling at something topper said. kelce glanced up briefly, offering a half-assed smirk, while rafe kept his eyes locked on the table, fingers playing with the edge of his napkin like he hadn’t spent the last few nights wrapped up in you.

you caught one of the girls whispering something under her breath. “didn’t know they let just anyone work here.”

her name was sloan or something equally forgettable, always draped on topper’s arm like a chanel bag. she didn’t know you, but she knew enough about you to judge. she was wearing sunglasses indoors, for fuck’s sake. the other girl snorted, and you felt your fingers tighten around the pen.

breathe. 

you had half a mind to snap back. if you were outside, on the street or at a party, you would’ve ripped into them without hesitation. you’d read them for filth in a way they wouldn’t forget. but here? in the middle of the restaurant? lila didn’t need you starting shit, and you didn’t need to lose a good payment over some entitled brats.

rafe said nothing. just sat there, tapping his fingers on the table as if you weren’t even standing right there.

you forced a smile. "you guys ready to order?"

and there it was.

he finally looked at you, but it wasn’t how you wanted him to. his eyes slid over you like you were a stranger — not like the girl he’d kissed breathless hours ago, or the one he had been whispering 'stay' to. he looked at you like you were just…some waitress. 

“coffee. black.” his tone was curt, clipped, like he couldn’t stand to speak to you.

you fought the urge to throw the fucking pot at his head.

“coming right up,” you chirped, giving them your best fake grin before spinning away and stalking back to the counter.

you busied yourself with the coffee, pouring it so forcefully you nearly overflowed the cup. unreal. he had the nerve to sit here, in your space, with his little kook posse, pretending like he wasn’t the same guy begging you to stay wrapped up in his sheets. and for what? to keep up his dumb little façade?

you used to be able to ignore it, pretend it didn’t matter because you didn’t care. you were just having fun, right? it was never supposed to be more than that. except, somewhere along the line, it did become more. he’d made it more, pulling you in deeper with every touch, every late-night call. and now, standing here in this sticky-ass diner, staring at his stupid, perfect face as he chatted up some girl who probably didn’t even know your name? it made you want to set the entire place on fire while they were still inside.

you slammed the coffee cup down a little harder than necessary when you returned to their table. “anything else?” you asked sweetly, practically daring him to say something. but of course, he didn’t. just took the cup without even looking at you. typical.

“uh, yeah, can we get some pancakes?” kelce piped up, completely oblivious to the tension radiating off you. “and bacon. like, extra crispy?”

“sure,” you bit out, scribbling it down before turning away. you made your way back behind the counter, slamming the order slip onto the kitchen window with a little more force than needed.

“everything okay, sweetheart?” lila, the owner, called from the back. she was probably picking up on your mood from the way you were practically shaking in irritation. “you look like you’re about to spit in someone’s food.”

you glanced back at the corner booth where rafe sat, laughing now at something topper said. “nope,” you lied through gritted teeth. “just having a great time.”

“mm-hmm,” lila hummed, giving you a skeptical look before disappearing into the back.

you busied yourself by wiping down the counter—again. anything to keep yourself from glaring over there and blowing your cover. because he wasn’t worth it, right? he wasn’t worth losing your cool over in front of a bunch of stuck-up kooks. he was just some guy.

except, some guy didn’t have you falling asleep in his arms one night, then acting like you were nothing the next. ugh. you clenched the rag tighter, scrubbing hard at a nonexistent stain on the counter, gritting your teeth as his laugh rang out again. 

he knew exactly what he was doing. sitting there, ignoring you, acting like you didn’t matter—like you hadn’t been sprawled out on his bed while he kissed his name into your skin.

“girl, you’re gonna break the counter.”

the sound of a familiar voice snapped you out of your spiraling.

you looked up to see your friend phoebe leaning against the entrance, one eyebrow raised. she must’ve popped in on her break or something. great timing. you shot her a look.

“don’t even start,” you muttered, tossing the rag down with a little too much force.

she peeked over her shoulder and rolled her eyes, a scoff escaping her lips. “oh, them,” she said, voice dripping with disdain. “what, rafe can’t keep it in his pants for a whole day?”

“he can’t keep his ego in check.” you crossed your arms, eyes moving over to the corner before you could stop yourself. he still wasn’t looking at you. the way he leaned back in the booth, one arm slung over the backrest, talking to the girl next to him—like he didn’t have a care in the world. like you didn’t exist.

phoebe followed your gaze, her expression turning incredulous. “are you serious right now?” she asked, lowering her voice. “what happened to just hooking up for fun? ‘don’t care what he does when ’m not around,’” she mocked lightly, using your own words against you.

“yeah, well, that was before he started acting like a complete dick,” you shot back, cheeks flushing.

“started?” she snorted, “he’s always been a dick. so have you. you gonna be okay, or am i about to see you dump coffee in his lap?”

the thought was tempting. really tempting. but you forced yourself to shake your head. “’m fine. he’s just… being rafe.” you hated how flat the words sounded. like an excuse. like you were giving him a free pass to treat you like this.

phoebe didn’t look convinced. “uh-huh. well, if you need a distraction, ’m here. want me to spill something on topper’s head? just say the word.”

god, you needed her right now. “as tempting as that sounds, lila would probably kill me. then i’d really owe her more than a shift.”

she shrugged. “worth it. but fine, i’ll behave.” she straightened, sending you a knowing look. “but seriously, babe. don’t let him get to you. rafe cameron’s just a bored little rich boy playing games.”

you knew she was right. of course she was right. but that didn’t stop that feeling from creeping up in your chest. like you’d expected better, even though you knew you shouldn’t have. because this was still rafe. and rafe was never going to be anything but a complication.

“i just…thought maybe…” you trailed off, words sticking in your throat. thought maybe what? that he’d change? that he’d stop being a total asshole just because you were starting to want more?

“yeah, well, stop thinking,” phoebe said bluntly. “he’s not worth it and he’s sucking the personality out of’ya.”

you swallowed hard, nodding. she was right. he wasn’t. and you needed to remember that. but just as you were about to say something, movement caught your eye.

rafe was standing now, making his way to the counter, his long stride unhurried as if he had all the time in the world. 

phoebe stiffened beside you, “you want me to stay?”

“no.” you forced the word out, squaring your shoulders. “i got this.”

“okay.” she gave you one last look before slipping out the door, leaving you alone behind the counter just as rafe stopped in front of you. he stood there, all six feet of arrogance staring down at you with that expression that made your skin crawl.

“can i help you?” you asked, voice dripping with forced politeness. you met his eyes, refusing to back down, even as your heart hammered against your ribs.

he moved, leaning forward just enough to close some of the distance between you. “need the bill,” he said flatly, like he wasn’t currently tearing your already frayed nerves to shreds.

that’s it? the bill?

you’re just the waitress now. wow. this was rafe. rafe, who couldn’t even look at you, who couldn’t acknowledge what the hell was happening between you beyond those late-night calls and tangled sheets.

“of course,” you said sweetly, forcing a smile even though you wanted to scream. “i’ll be right back.” you turned away without another word, fighting the urge to hurl the fucking notepad at his head. you busied yourself at the register, punching in numbers with way more strength than necessary, imagining it was his face.

once you were done, you looked up to see his back was to you as he fished out his wallet, sliding his card into the reader. you kept your face neutral, biting back the million things you wanted to scream at him. the receipt printed out, and he leaned down, scribbling something quickly before straightening up.

and just as you thought he’d turn and leave like nothing had happened; he did something that made you freeze in place. he dropped a couple of crisp bills onto the counter—more than a couple, actually—and then slid the check over to your side without a word.

what the hell?

you blinked, staring at the pile of cash. that was way more than the standard 20%. fuck, it was enough to cover your rent for the next month, let alone one meal’s worth of shitty coffee and bacon. 

“what the fuck is this, country club?” you blurted out. he stilled, eyes snapping up to yours, that mask of indifference slipping just the tiniest bit. “what, trying to buy me off now? think i’ll just smile and say ‘thank you, sir’ because you threw a couple hundred my way?”

“stop,” he muttered, eyes darting around like he was worried someone might hear. “it’s just—”

“no, you don’t get to ‘just’ me,” you hissed over the counter, “you don’t get to pull this shit like you’re being generous.” you shoved the bills back toward him, nostrils flaring. “take your fucking money. i don’t want it.”

but he didn’t move. just stood there, jaw clenched, blue eyes boring into yours. “it’s not—” he cut himself off, scrubbing a hand down his face, looking almost frustrated. “it’s not like that. ’m just trying to—”

“trying to what?” you shot back, “make yourself feel better? or make me shut up and go along with this bullshit like a good little pogue?” the last word dripped with contempt.

he flinched, the reaction so quick you almost missed it. almost. “’m just giving you a tip. it’s what you want, right?” his tone turned biting, “for your work, I mean.”

your mouth dropped open, stunned. “wow. you’re such an asshole, you know that?” you shoved the wad of cash back at him with a force that sent the bills scattering across the counter. “keep it. use it to buy yourself some decency, because clearly, you’re running low.”

his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t try to pick up the money. just stood there, jaw ticking, like he couldn’t decide whether to fight back or walk away. it made you want to scream. you wanted to claw at that cold, emotionless shell of his until something—anything—broke through.

“you’re overreacting,” he muttered. and that was it. kust those three stupid, dismissive words.

overreacting? after everything?

“get out,” you said flatly, hands shaking. “get the hell out.”

without another word, he turned on his heel and walked out of the restaurant, leaving the crumpled bills scattered across the counter like the mess of your emotions. the door swung shut behind him, the bell chiming softly. you stood there, chest heaving, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack your chest right open. and for a second, you almost reached out, almost scooped up the cash just to throw it at his retreating back. but you didn’t.

instead, you swiped the bills off the counter, crumpling them up into a tight fist and then, with a furious exhale, you chucked the whole wad into the trash can.

because if rafe thought he could buy your silence, your compliance, you, with a handful of cash, then he didn’t know a fucking thing about you at all.

[kanmom51]

Are you sure?! Sapporo - Episode 8

I know.

I know it's been a bit and a half.

I know it's taken me time to come here and talk about the last episode.

I've been digesting, totally in the feels, and trying to recover.

The photobook, JM's little piece of information regarding his whereabouts night before Jeju and the pic. OMG, that JK marked by JM pic. The more you think about it the crazier it gets. That they actually did that and that the photo made it's way into the book (not to mention us knowing that JM has that pic he took of JK on his phone). All quite a distraction from me working through my thoughts about the episode. A welcomed distraction, but a distraction none the less.

This last episode we got of their Sapporo trip was an emotional rollercoaster. Not only for JK and JM. The level of Joy on the one hand. Seeing them so very happy. And them allowing us to see even more of them and their happiness. Like JM said:

Thinking again about what he said here... and then going back to this:

Yeah, I know he was talking about their Sapporo trip, but you know that this isn't the first time we saw JM wanting to claim his territory.

I know I don't have to point out where JM was pointing where he was going to be writing "Jimin", right?

So, this too is something JM does at home? Just a thought, lol.

And then those two just had to kill me. I know they were both pensive and sad it was all coming to an end, but JM crying, that just devastated me (because It's JM, and JM struggles so with showing himself so vulnerable).

So yes, it has taken me a second to get my wits together and come back and talk a bit with you about what we had in Episode 8.

When I finished watching the episode for the first time I couldn't help but think:

It's the end of the world as we know it...

Well, not really, because we knew it pretty well, but for those that didn't (or wouldn't see it, or denied it, or lived in a delusion that it wasn't happening) it sure is changed.

And then we get JM and JK just crushing down all those TKK rickety houses of cards (see what I did there?) with the photobook. Absolutely priceless!!

Are you sure?! Episode 8

Filled with romance and sentiment and so much feels. Couplie feels.

This episode, is the one, out of all those it followed, to cement for us, the spectators (all spectators, not only Jikookers), that these two are... drumroll... a REAL LIFE long term ever so loving couple.

No huge ear sucking, hickey showing or sunscreen claiming moments. And yet, this episode differs so much from the ones that came before because the whole aura of it was so heavy in "if it looks like a duck and quack like a duck then it's a fucking couple you idiots, just open your eyes".

This is JM and JK just being themselves albeit Sapporo Jikook are innately different due to timing and place - Japan and last trip before enlistment made this so much MORE for the two of them, and we most definitley saw just how much so at the end of this episode.

But this is also the editors doing, with the company's ok, of course, allowing us to see so much MORE. I do believe, that just like with the hickey finding it's way into memories 2020, this episode, the editing of it, was a conscious decision of both Jikook and the company. Jikook being themselves and allowing us to see more of it. More of them. I can assure you there is much we did not get to see, just like there was much we did not see from the previous trips and episodes, but we were allowed to see MORE in episode 8.

And again, it's not about seeing sus moments, because we definitely got a few of those in this episode. We had some in previous episodes as well.

It's about the MOOD.

it's about the editing allowing for more private moments (emotionally private, couplie private, not necessarily what people love to see or think would be the most suspicious ones, the more obvious ones with sexual innuendos), moments that I am sure happened in the other two destinations as well but were edited out.

But there were still things we weren't allowed to see.

Like when a crying JM goes to wake up JK in the morning.

Too personal. Too emotional. Too private.

Beyond the MORE, it was just TOO MUCH.

And yet we did get Jikook just being themselves and us getting to see it. Jikook just BEING. And it was beautiful. It was emotional. It was intimate. It was so very special.

We got to see them react to the first episode of the show. And although this most definitely wouldn't be the first time we got to see them sit down and watch and react to BTS content, that was always within the context of BTS content and with the other members. I can think of one time we got to see them watching their own interactions during the Black Swan shoot.

But even that had them sitting apart and the whole group present.

This was intimate. Just the two with only a red pillow between them (which I am 100% they put there to remind themselves of where, when and what they are doing). JK holding on to that pillow, to prevent hands from straying? I guess it kept them at bay... at times...

So yes. We see JK and JM (oh boy JM) definitely in the feels. And the different editing. Allowing us to see and feel their intimacy.

And with all that, the whole intimate aura surrounding that whole episode we got some cute and some more obvious moments (those moments you can point your finger at and say "there you go", unlike a feeling you get from just watching the two BEING).

We got so so much in this episode.

We got their usual playful flirting.

One example of many:

I mean, really???

The facial expression while saying it, and the mostly lack of reaction from JM as well. No flinching, no "you shouldn't say stuff like that", nope... just this:

This, to me, is not stressing about JK saying this to him but more about it being said for us to hear.

And I'm sorry, but whichever way you look at it, this is not the reaction you would get from a bro who was just told by his bro to strip.

We got more flirting in the car, at the convenience store, at the accommodations, in the hot tub as well. I will get to it all, don't worry, lol.

We got the touchy.

We also have the full combo of flirty playful and touchy:

We got JM telling us 3 times he was taking and took a boyfriend pic.

We got them calling each other pet names.

We got JM talking about his butt and JK's familiarity with it...

We got JK showing off his BF privileges.

We got JK trying to uplift JM's mood.

We got JK telling us all these trips with JM have been the best of his life,

and:

We got JK totally lost, gazing all stary eyed at JM.

Fuck, that was so beautiful!!

I want to go back a second to the clip I shared - what the absolute perfect ending to an absolutely wonderful show. And that little surprise at the end.

Even watching it again now I'm balling my eyes out.

JM rubbing his shaved head... I can't...

😭😭

The one thing that gives me strength is knowing that they are there TOGETHER!!!

[blackknight-kai]

Hi, so i’m a lurker but I kinda decided to stop lurking and personally want to request if you can maybe write a headcanon of the Destined one or Sun Wukong when reader would occassionally glances at them but its only because Reader have a crush on them and is trying to play it off that they dont have a crush

Also love your writing-

Here you go!! One for each :) just because I feel like they’d be a bit different. (Also you’re so kind for saying you like my stuff 🫶🫶🫶)

You’ve got a crush but aren’t trying to be sussed out yet? Oh boy. Poor you. He’s noticed. 100% noticed you looking at him and the little awkward thing you do when you look away quickly.

Destined One:

- [ ] Does NOT know what you’re staring at him for.

- [ ] Absolute idiot when it comes to romance, he’s been too focused on his journey to care about that kind of stuff.

- [ ] Completely lost. Starts to wonder if maybe there’s something stuck in his fur or maybe you think he stinks or something, he doesnt know.

- [ ] It’s giving him a complex because WHY does he catch you eyeing him so much? (And why does it get under his skin?)

- [ ] Do you want to fight him? Is he doing something strange?

- [ ] Starts watching you closer than he already was, probably squints/frowns deeper when he catches your eyes lingering on him before you quickly turn away. His tail will start to twitch with annoyance because WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT AND WHY WONT YOU TELL ME?

- [ ] Does he look weird? Is there food stuck in his chin fur?

- [ ] It bothers him in more ways than one. Again, now he’s aware of it he cant stop wondering about it but also, the more he see’s you do it the more awkward he acts and he gets a bit shy about it.

- [ ] Makes his fur ruffle and makes him twitchy.

- [ ] Starting to like the way you look at him, eventually he will figure out WHY he likes it.

- [ ] Don’t stare at other people though because he wants your eyes on him regardless of if he realizes it or not. It will annoy him because he thought you only glanced / stared at HIM.

- [ ] Over time he will notice if your cheeks tint pink. It’s going to make him VERY intent on you and your flustered state. He’s already pretty intense anyway but now you’re going to have his full attention as he tries to decide if maybe look him makes you sick or something. Which he would HATE.

- [ ] He’d gonna start showing off (fighting or mundane tasks) especially if he notices you staring at certain moments - this will be an unconscious act at first before deliberate.

- [ ] At some point he is going to grab your chin as you look away and silently demand you tell him why you’re staring at him so much.

Wukong:

- [ ] He clocked you glancing at him almost immediately. He’s too vain and aware not to.

- [ ] That said, he doesnt know WHY. At first.

- [ ] He’s used to people staring, he does make a spectacle of himself very often. And in his mind, why shouldn’t people stare at him? He’s amazing and all the synonyms of that word. So at first he doesnt mind it since he figures you’ll get your fill of whatever it is you’re looking at him for.

- [ ] When you dont though and he keeps catching you looking at him, well now hes curious. A curious Wukong is a dangerous thing.

- [ ] Your glances are starting to get under his fur too. Because WHY are you peeking at him?

- [ ] If others were to do it he wouldn’t care, outside of maybe using it to start a fight with them, but you? Regardless of if he realizes it or not he’s falling for you and your eyes on him makes him feel tingly.

- [ ] He’s going to start testing you. Will definitely pretend he doesn’t notice you looking for a while.

- [ ] But he’s going to start doing certain things to note exactly WHEN you stare at him so he can determine WHY. Because apparently you dont want him to know, and he going to store that nugget for future mischievous opportunities.

- [ ] But also, what if you know something he doesnt? That isnt going to slide.

- [ ] So he watches you carefully as he purposely does things to see your different reactions to them.

- [ ] He’s gonna figure you out real fast though especially when your cheeks flush pink while you were staring at his chest, his shirt had gone a little more loose than normal (might have done that on purpose).

- [ ] He is going to have the fattest smirk on his face and his tail is going to swish behind him like the arrogant jerk he is. You like him. Or at least find him pleasing to look at.

- [ ] He’s going to amp up his “do things to make them stare” mission.

- [ ] “Oops I spilled on my shirt, I guess I have to take it off” or “look at me while I do this ridiculous unnecessary show of strength” kind of shit and always right in your view.

- [ ] As much as seeing you try to cover your tracks is funny and amusing to him, eventually he’s going to get impatient with it.

- [ ] He is gonna call you out. - however THAT conversation turns out is up to you.

- [ ] But now that it’s out in the open he’s going to make sure that whenever he does something he is going to look over at you expectantly like ‘Are you watching? Yeah you’re watching. Of course you are.’

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi girly i love your writing honestly i get so excited when i see you posted!

Can you do a damian priest x reader where reader goes for a night out with rhea and gets to drunk and damian comes to “save” her and is all protective. like reader asks “why do you care?” and damian is like “because i love you”

damian priest x reader (romantic) / rhea ripley x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️drunk reader, feels, a little angst and lot of fluff

monday night

“should we go right after the interviews?” rhea asked as you were finishing retouching your make up.

“absolutely” you smiled back “i think i’ll be done in thirty minutes, what about you?”

she looked at the clock and thought for a moment “probably twenty minutes, i have to finish some interviews with damian and then i’ll change…”

before you could reply, damian entered rhea’s locker room, definitely not expecting you there “rhea are you done? oh - hi y/n” he awkwardly smiled, making you chuckle.

“hi…” you blushed under his gaze.

you’ve always had a crush on him but you knew he saw you just as a friend. you tried to give him hints but he never seemed to understand or maybe he did but wasn’t interested. you couldn’t tell but either way, you got tired of waiting for him so even if it hurt, you were okay with being just friends with him.

“yes i’m done” rhea replied to damian “thirty minutes y/n, okay?”

“perfect, see ya!” you quickly excused yourself and met jackie for a quick interview.

rhea smirked seeing how damian reacted being in your presence and she couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to confess to you.

“what you girls doing in thirty minutes?” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“oh, nothing, y/n wanted to try this club she saw on her way here and i’m going with her? you wanna come?”

he was honestly shocked. you weren’t for clubs. you always hated them and he knew so he didn’t understand why all of sudden you wanted to try a a club in a city you didn’t even know.

“no thanks…i’m going straight to the hotel after we finish our interview” he thought for a moment “plus, who goes to a club on monday night? it’s gonna be so boring…”

rhea scoffed “people who wanna have fun and not be bothered by too many people”

the older man laughed “okay, fair, let’s get this done so you can get ready and have fun with her…”

somehow, he was jealous of the close bond between you and rhea. you were amazing friends and it was thanks to her if he got the opportunity to meet you. he tried to spend as much time he could with you but it wasn’t enough. rhea was with you almost of the time so there wasn’t much time for him to spend with you alone.

rhea saw the side eye damian gave her and she knew she had to act quick because you were both two idiots in love and she couldn’t stand the glances and flirts you gave each other without realising that you both had feelings.

once you finished your interview, you ran back to your changing room and put on some clothes you brought for the club. nothing too excessive but you felt comfortable in that short dress you got. it was one of your favourites and you always looked for an occasion to wear it. pairing it with matching heels, you were done, ready for rhea who was taking longer - as usual.

as you walked towards her changing room, your eyes met with damian. shyly smiling, you waved at him.

you were breathtaking, the most beautiful person he’s ever seen “the dress looks good on you” he complimented you. he was genuine, you could tell it from his smile “rhea’s almost done, sorry we took so long with the interviews”

“thank you…” your face was heating up, not used to being complimented so often and especially not by the man you had a crush on “and no problem with that, i get, interviews can be long sometimes” as you were both speaking you saw rhea making her way out of her room.

wearing a black top and a black pair of jeans, boots and a black purse, she was more than ready.

“ready girl?” she smirked at you, making you nod your head.

“have fun girls” damian smiled - or at least, he tried. he walked with you to the parking lot before getting into rental and driving away, back to the hotel.

of course rhea had to pick metal music for the ride but you didn’t mind it as your mind was thinking of the latin man. you wished you had a closer bond with him, like him and rhea, or maybe even more but in your mind he was way out of your league. you saw the women he was interested in and none of them looked like you. those were models, tall and beautiful, and you were just, well, you. you knew that damian would never think of you like that but sometimes you wondered how it would feel like being loved by him.

you saw it with rhea. how caring he was towards her. how he cared for her, always making sure she was okay - especially since the judgement day broke apart - how he always texted her if she was okay or if she needed anything. you thought about the woman he would fall in love with one day and how lucky she was would be.

“…earth to y/n…” rhea snapped her fingers in front of your face trying to wake you up from your thoughts “are you here?”

“oh sorry, i was thinking…are we arrived?” you asked and she nodded.

seeing the parking lot loaded with cars, maybe this club was full seven days a week, you thought. making your way into the place, you were both met with the flashing neon lights and the disco music echoing inside.

a lot of people dancing and some at the bar, but it was nice and cool, no drunk men dancing and trying to catch girls attention, bodyguards securing the area. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i need a drink first” you laughed as rhea followed you to the bar as you both ordered some cocktails. rhea decided to stay light with her drink, knowing that she would have to drive you back to the hotel while you tried a vodka and tequila mixed cocktail. it was strong but not enough for you. you never really liked alcohol but tonight you were testing yourself.

“is it good?” rhea asked seeing how quickly you drank that.

“yup” you giggled “i’m gonna get another one and then we can dance?” you weren’t really waiting for an answer from rhea but she wasn’t expecting to see you getting a second drink in less than ten minutes.

once your glass was full again, rhea dragged you to the dance floor. maybe it was the music mixed with the taste of alcohol burning in your mouth but everything was spinning and you loved that sensation.

you couldn’t even tell how much time passed but your legs were feeling heavy. you needed to sit for a bit. rhea agreed and she pointed out a small booth at the end of the club.

“my feet are killing me” you laughed, exhaling trying to let go of your pain.

“i told you multiple times to not wear heels when you’re dancing…but you never listen” smirking, she pointed out at your red feet.

“yeah i know…” as you were both joking, a barista came to your both and offered you two shots of tequila.

“it’s on the house” she gently said before leaving.

“oh i can’t drink that or i’m not gonna be able to drive back” rhea said but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t a fan of alcohol, in fact she always tried to avoid it. you took both glasses and shoved them down your throat. feeling the burning sensation, not helping your head who was still spinning from before “okay girl, take my glass too, i guess” rhea laughed.

two shots and two cocktails later, you were now sipping wine as rhea blurted out how happy she was with jey.

your head was spinning, laughing from time to time.

“girl, you still with me?” rhea asked waiting for a reply but all that came out from your lips was a drunk laugh “y/n?”

“i’m okay…” you whispered.

not sounding so sure, rhea rolled her eyes “stop drinking that wine”

“i rather drink than face my problems…” you said looking everywhere but rhea.

“what problems?” she laughed. of course she knew anyone had problems but you never mentioned anything with her so she was pretty surprised to hear those words coming from your mouth.

you took a deep breath “damian…he’s my problem…i think i love him” you were sure you loved him.

rhea then got a big idea “stay here, and don’t drink your wine, i’ll go to the bathroom real quick”and in fact, she went to the bathroom, sending a quick text message to damian, knowing that if you needed help, he would be on his feet in less than ten seconds.

hey dam! i hope you’re still awake. y/n is drunk and i don’t think i’ll be able to bring her back to the hotel. can you come here and help me please?

as damian saw that text, he took less than five minutes to wear a pair of shoes and texting rhea for the address. rhea always told him how you weren’t much of a drinker so he got worried, fearing someone tried to get their way with you.

“where did you go?” you asked rhea with a disapproval look “you left me alone so i started talking about my problems with the barista…she offered me another shot” you pointed out at the empty glass in front of you.

rhea breathed “i called back up…we’re going back to the hotel…” she next to you.

only fifteen minutes away rhea spotted damian inside the building. waving at him she showed him where you were both sitting.

“rhea, what is he doing here?” you drunkly asked.

“you two need to figure out what you feel for each other…he’s gonna take care of you” she whispered as she saw damian approaching the two of you.

before you could contest her words, damian saw how lost your look was and eyed rhea, asking for questions but she simply shook her head.

“i called back up” she laughed seeing damian “thanks for coming” she greeted him as he nodded his head “he’s gonna help you…i’m gonna get back to the hotel”

damian was shocked with rhea’s words “wait what…you’re leaving?”

“yeah…that’s why i called you…you two, figure it out” she said before leaving.

as you both watched her leaving the club, you were wondering what did you have to figure out with damian. he was there just to help a friend - rhea, because she called him - and that was. nothing more.

he softly smiled at you “let’s get you into the car” as he gently helped you on your feet and guided you back to his car.

he made sure tu buckle your seat belt and he start driving. it was clear to anyone that you were drunk and he tried to drive cautiously, not wanting to make you sick.

“why are you here?” you asked, your eyes looking outside the window.

“rhea texted me…she was worried about you. you usually don’t drink and seeing you soo…drunk made her worry and honestly i worried too…” he spoke, his eyes still on the road.

“worried? you? worried about me?” you chuckled “why? it’s not like you care about me…we don’t even know each other that well…” you didn’t want to be so rude but your drunk thoughts were coming out and you didn’t know how to stop them.

damian was hurt by your words, but he knew that you were drunk and you didn’t mean what you actually said “i care about you…more than what you think” he whispered low just enough for you to hear it.

you heard his words, you just didn’t know what to say. you pretended nothing happened and he kept driving towards the hotel. once you arrived at the building, damian walked you through the long halls and reached for the elevator. you didn’t even notice that he pushed the bottom for his floor and not yours. you realised it only when you reached his room and you met with the welcoming feeling of his perfume and cologne.

“damian this isn’t my room…” you whispered as he sat you down on his bed.

“i know…i’m not leaving you alone tonight. you’re too drunk and if you get sick at least i’ll be here to help you” he said while throwing his shoes somewhere in the room.

was he serious? no - maybe he was just pitying you. he was doing this because rhea asked him, not because he really wanted. that was all your mind kept telling you while in reality damian wanted to take care of you. wanted to have you in his arms, cuddle you and making you feel safe. hell, he was going to hold your hair up in case you needed to throw up. and he never done that for anyone.

he sensed your hesitation “i meant it…what i say before, in the car, i meant every single word i said…” he said sitting next to you.

“but why?” your mind told you to stop asking him stupid questions and and savour the moment but your heart needed to know all the truth on my he was so caring with you. because, maybe, there was going to be a chance for you.

he gently cupped your face in his warm big hands and he smiled “because i have feelings for you. i love you and i always will…i care so much about you. and the fact that we are not even so close kills me because i never know if you’re okay or if you need help, if you’re happy or sad…i wanna be part of your life and i wanna be a part with being more than friends” his soft fingers stroked your cheeks making you lean into his touch.

“that’s all i’ve been waiting to hear…” you whispered. your confession surprising him. sure, you were drunk but not that drunk to say stupid things “i always liked you but i never thought you would like someone like me…”

“someone like you it’s all i want…you, it’s all i want…” he smiled, looking up at your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort but when he saw none, he leaned his lips over yours “i wanna kiss you”

“i might smell like alcohol but i wanna kiss you damian…please” you almost begged, making him laugh.

you felt his hot breath over your lips, gazing and teasing before he gently lowered his head down and finally kissed you. he was soft with you, his hands moving from your face to your hips, holding you closer as your hands lost in his long hair.

you both separated to catch breath and as you were staring in each other’s eyes you realised how stupid you were. two idiots in love - as rhea often said - that couldn’t understand that they both had feelings for the other.

“stay here tonight and let me take care of you…” damian whispered making you nod your head “i told rhea that monday nights at the club can be boring…i can’t believe you got that drunk” he smirked making you chuckle.

“it’s gonna be a long night, my head is about to explode” you joked, throwing yourself back into the bed.

it was a long night indeed. you complaining how bad your head hurt and being nauseous all the time but damian had you safe in his arms - and your hair safe in his hands as you threw up in the bathroom - you knew that you were going to be fine.

[sahisan]

— ooh, i still have your lighter.

featuring . chuuya nakahara.

tags . sfw. swearing. exes who can't get over each other. unhealthy coping mechanisms (mostly for reader (alcohol). mention of smoking. a lot of alcohol. angst. a lot of angst. more angst. could've been 5+1 typa thing but it's not that, just small drabbles. gn reader. wc 1.9k.

author note . this is like actually very rushed because i really want to sleep but i needed to finish this before going to sleep so yes. maybe i'll beta read in the morning. maybe. also almost died writing this bye why do i love suffering. also guess what the name of this one is taken of.

"i still have your sweater."

chuuya hears how your voice is a bit quieter and more slurred than usual due to the effects of alcohol in your blood, and he can't really tell if he likes it or not with how you'd woken him up at nearly 2am to talk. again. sure, alcohol and all that, but he doesn't know if his current, sleepy comprehension of what's going on is better than your drunken one.

he intakes a breath at your words.

"the grey one," you continue quietly, and chuuya can hear you shifting your head on whatever you're laying it on through the speaker. "i haven't even washed it yet. it still smells like you."

in that very moment, he wants your drunk ass to just shut up and go to sleep.

but then there's your voice. intoxicated and quiet and soft, almost as soft as it was when you'd talk to him when you were together.

chuuya hates reminiscing.

he remembers that sweater. just a plain, grey sweater, but he also remembers you taking a liking to it very quickly. he still remembers you walking around in it, still remembers how he had to force you to take it off because you wouldn't budge.

he remembers a lot.

"just how drunk are you," chuuya mumbles as if scolding or complaining or both, but he can't deny that he tries to mask the shakiness in his voice with the sounds of his bedsheets' shuffling.

"mmmaybe two sake bottles in," you tell him then.

"jesus," he mutters, rubbing a hand down his face. he's trying to remain composed, but god, is it hard. not only is he pissed off due to your drunk phone call, but a mix of bitterness and sorrow also runs through him at the realization that you still have a bit of him in your life and you still keep these bits.

well, he isn't any better, actually.

"you still got my sweater, huh?" chuuya blurts, trying to ignore the ache in his heart.

he scoffs, a frown on his face. his tone is harsh but his actual feelings still somehow manage to show through the way he speaks; he's hurting more than he's angry.

"...i still have your stupid fucking lighter," he ends up mumbling after a beat of silence.

there's more silence from you as he says the words, and chuuya exhales a breath through the lump in his throat, wishing for it to just disappear.

he hears you hum. "the silver one?" you ask, and it's his turn to hum in reply. "...you still use it?"

"yeah," he ends up breathing out.

"every fucking day," chuuya responds, words much softer now somehow despite the curses, his eyes now fixed on the ceiling above him.

and it hurts, it really does. to know that you, despite having a new life, still call him when drunk, still own his sweater, and now the realization that he still holds a piece of you as well.

he never told you that, never said a word about how the lighter never left his pocket ever since you left him, and he wasn't planning on, but chuuya, in fact, had started smoking much more since after you left.

he hopes the lighter will never break.

—

chuuya hadn't answered your calls for a month.

"where the hell have you been?" you throw at him instantly the second he picks up on the fourth ring.

"in france, idiot," he points out with a scrunch of his face, plopping down on his bed and exhaling a near groan-like sigh, the memories of the recent overseas mission creeping up his mind.

fucking city of love.

he hears you hum, and then sound of rustling, as if you're shifting in your own bed. you're not drunk this time—thank god—but you do sound a bit more... melancholic, if he compares to your voice during the latest calls.

"mm, and how was france?" you ask, voice slightly quieter like you're focused on something else besides the call. he hopes you aren't.

chuuya scoffs. he takes in a breath, turning to lay on his side and press his phone to another ear, "ça aurait été bien mieux avec toi," he mumbles out at an exhale, using the harsher tone of voice to make it sound like he'd said something bad about his trip—and not like he'd said something about you. no. not in a century.

and you laugh. you actually laugh, and, at first, he doesn't understand why—at what are you laughing? did you somehow understand what he said? were you secretly learning french all these years away to catch him saying something like this? could be possible, knowing you, but the sound of your laughter literally interrupts all his thoughts and he can't focus on anything—

"at least translate, come on," he hears you say, voice still a bit breathy from the recent laughter. "don't tell me france was that bad."

chuuya has to move his phone from his ear for a good few meters away to exhale a loud, relieving breath through his mouth.

"not translating you anythin', i'm not your personal translator," he says once he brings the phone back to his ear, scowling and huffing. "you're gonna struggle with trying to understand what i said for the rest of your life now, that's what you get."

he still has to get over the sound of your laughter. perhaps it's the first time he's heard it in years.

("would've been much better with you.")

—

it's nearing half past midnight, and chuuya, somehow, already knows you're drunk as hell as he picks up the call.

he's in the middle of a trip back home from work when he does, leaving a single hand on the steering wheel as he answers.

yeah, you're definitely drunk.

"enjoying yourself?" he mutters dryly, huffing out a breath as he hears your nearly incoherent mumbling on the other line.

he listens to it nearly a minute, stuck on a red traffic light.

"hey," chuuya calls out quietly, exhaling a sigh, he's really gonna have to do this now, isn't he? "be a dear 'n pass the phone to the bartender, will ya?"

it's a miracle you do as told, as intoxicated as you are.

once he hears the shuffling sound of that said bartender picking your phone up to their ear, he asks for the address, and once he gets it, the traffic light turns green and chuuya goes for a quick "u" turnabout, making his way towards the bar, not before asking the person on the other line to watch over you so you won't wander off before he arrives.

you're already slumped on the bar counter with your arms under your head and a finished glass of—clearly—something strong beside you as chuuya comes through the door.

he thinks of if you try to silence your desire to call him every time with alcohol and if it—alcohol—almost always makes it worse. it certainly does, he catches himself thinking.

he thanks the bartender for the address, paying for you and carefully swinging your hand over his shoulder to safely exit the bar and carry you over to his car, listening to your drunken babbling all the way through.

chuuya sighs once he gets you into the passenger seat, and you seem to almost immediately slump into the leather.

so you've had that much.

he can work with that, now that you're already fast asleep as he's back to starting the car.

once him and you in tow are at your doorway, he fishes the keys out of your pocket and lets himself in.

your apartment has remained as he remembers it—there are some minor changes, but the little details are the ones that he notices first and they're still there, even throughout the years.

at least you have some sort of stability in your life.

chuuya ends up shrugging off your outerwear and shoes and bringing you over to your bedroom, contemplating about whether or not you would like to wake up in fresh clothes im the morning, but he realises thay you two aren't that close anymore for him to go through your closet and, moreso, change your clothes. he lets it stay like it is.

before leaving, chuuya makes sure to place a glass of water and a pack of hangover pills on your nightstand.

he leaves using that same spare key you made for him years ago.

his forehead finds the steering wheel as soon as he collapses into the driver's seat.

—

"we should stop doing this," you tell chuuya quietly during one of the next calls, and chuuya can tell you loathe the words coming out of your mouth.

you're absolutely sober this time.

"we should," he confirms just as quietly, staring up at the ceiling above his bed.

there's silence on both ends for the next five minutes. after that, you wish him good night and end the call.

chuuya doesn't try to bring his phone away from his ear for two more minutes.

—

tuesdays are always shit.

chuuya does not want to receive any phone calls on a fucking tuesday night while he's buried in paperwork and stupid reports, but he ends up receiving one.

from you.

he nearly snaps his phone in two once he picks it up in his free hand, stopping for a moment as he sees your contact popping up on the screen.

he hesitates for a moment, the hand holding the pen he was previously writing with halting.

chuuya exhales a breath, eyelids closing. he presses "accept".

"what now?" he snaps as soon his phone touches his ear.

a moment before he did so, he could hear you intaking a breath as if you were preparing to speak. as if you were excited to propose something.

you're silent on the other end after that. he can tell you were taken aback, but he was really just too tired to care. maybe.

"...you, me, chateau latour 1977?" your voice is quiet; quieter than it was supposed to be before he snapped, and he can actually feel it, because your voice actually falters in the end, but he can trace the bits of hope remaining in it.

something in chuuya's chest squeezes at that, and then he registers your words.

...oh.

you're inviting him over to drink.

...oh.

chuuya is actually silent as the gears turning before in his head and the flow of his thoughts literally stop—they just stop. there's nothing in his mind except for your voice offering to drink together. he unintentionally drops the pen from his hand.

and then his eyes shift towards the two incomplete stacks of papers on the table in front of him.

you over work? his ex over work? his ex the thought about whom he can't seem to be able to get rid of as much as he wants, over work?

what an easy choice.

unfortunately, today is one of the days when chuuya ends up speaking before he thinks.

"i'm busy," he ends up barking in the end, ending the call barely a second later.

he stares at the now lit screen of his phone, showing the earlier message from you, containing a single photo of the wine bottle you'd offered him just a minute ago.

he stares at it, and stares, and stares some more, before he throws his head back and clenches his eyelids as hard as he can, because his eyes suddenly start watering with tears.

chuuya is an idiot.

—

"i'm sorry."

chuuya doesn't remember which of you two said this. he hopes it was him.

"i know."

he doesn't remember who replied.

call ended.

—

[demigods-posts]

Hi 👋👋

I dont typically send asks, and especially not without being anon. I am a mostly silent participant on tumblr and I have been for years. But I have to say something

It is so refreshing seeing big pro pjo posters able to criticize Riordan. I am not sure if this is just in my little corner of tumblr and maybe other people can tell me if it is the same for them but as far as I can see, you and lilislegacy are the big pjo posters on here. Is that just my dash? But I feel like mostly everyone in the tumblr fandom knows you guys, though I have known about you for longer. And when the book came out and I saw all the issues I fully expected everyone, especially you guys, throwing your full support behind the book and Riordan. So I cant tell you how happy I am that you are calling him out. The post you made today about not understanding why he is making Percy dumb again is so true! It’s not ok because self deprecation shouldnt be glorified. When he wrote Percy has a powerful hero, nobody was upset about it. Adult readers loved how much he had grown and kid readers looked up to him and found it exciting. In the last PJO book and in all Heroes of Olympus Riordan made Percy strong and heroic in addition to kind and funny, which made people happy. It made kids want to be like that. But now these kids are reading about him being so mean to himself. This is not okay! This should not be the example! Kids should not be reading that it’s ok for your friends and loved ones to treat you like an idiot. Riordan should be continuing to write about Percy growing up and maturing and becoming a good man who is content with who he is, not becoming more immature and more self deprecating and treated worse by his friends.

Sorry, I didnt mean to go off. But I just think its refreshing and brave how you are calling him out, no matter how much you have praised him and his books in the past. This fandom is dangerously loyal to him, and it quickly can become toxic and problematic when no one can criticize the author himself. So thank you for what you are doing. I admire it a lot and I hope you keep it up to some extent because we need it so bad

@lilislegacy if you want to add to this, feel free <3

Thank you so much for reaching out, and for being so kind! I hold the series in such high regard, so critiquing it makes me so nervous, especially since my blog is fairly well-known throughout the fandom. I really do love the series and I stand by the fact that there is so much good to come from the recent books, but with that comes some not-so-good. The consistent mockery of Percy's intelligence, the satirical characterization of Percy and Annabeth, and the seeming erasure of certain character and story arcs in the recent books are disappointing, and I enjoy having the space to express my opinion. While I have such love the series, I am open to having respectful discourse about Rick's recent writing choices, and I will engage in more in due time. Thank you again for your kind words and support!

[pedrilcvr]

Hello hope you're well. Could I maybe please request Pablo Gavi x reader who is sick and also with this prompt "You must love me a lot." "Obviously, idiot" "What now you're insulting a sick person?" Only write this if you want and feel free to include or exclude any of the prompt. Thank you😁

Lovesick — Pablo Gavi.

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being sick was the worst, but luckily you have the best boyfriend in the world.

Disclaimer/s: reader has a bad cold , otherwise just fluff!

A/N: need this man sooo bad.

Waking up to your head throbbing, was the worst thing in the world, to say the least. Nose stuffed and itchy, the universe clearly wasn’t on your side. Turning over in bed, your lip pulls into a smile. Your boyfriends worried face is the first thing you’re met with, and although you were sickly and nauseous, he still left you with a fluttering stomach.

“Good morning.” He grins tiredly, his voice raspy from sleep. Gavi turns on his side, rolling over to give you a kiss, which you quickly decline.

Dodging his lips, you are quick to explain why when you see the hurt flash across his face. “I’m sick! I woke up and my throat’s burning and my nose is stuffy! I’m not purposely avoiding a kiss, just don’t want to infect you.”

Gavi doesn’t look pleased in the least, not because of the kiss, but because the worry that took over. “You’re sick? How? You seemed fine yesterday.” His eyebrows knit together, hand reaching out to press against your forehead.

“I know, it’s hot, was the first thing I checked. I must’ve got something when I was visiting my family a few days ago and it just kicked in.” You shrug, shuffling to sit upwards but wince, pain shooting through your head.

The brunette takes that as his cue to get up, “lay down, stay there.” He instructs, pulling a shirt over his head and fixing his tussled sleep hair.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, eyebrow lifting in curiosity as you watch your boyfriend maneuver around the bedroom.

“Going to get you water and some meds.” He answers, not giving you another chance to speak as he makes his way out of the bedroom.

Laying back down, you snuggle up in bed to get more comfortable. You make sure to turn away from the blindes, the less light, the better.

It’s not long before Gavi is kneeling on the ground beside your bed, “drink this, take this, and i’ll call your mom to get that soup she makes when she comes over.” He gives you a small, comforting smile.

Your lips jut out, “aww, you must love me a lot.” There’s a teasing tone in your voice, but you really did mean it. Gavi always cared for you without you even having to ask.

“Obviously, idiot.” He huffs, lips pulling into a small smirk.

A gasp leaves your lips while you take the pill and glass of water from his hands. “Oh, so you’re insulting a sick person now?” You feign offense, head shaking in disbelief.

Gavi laughs, “take the meds and get some rest. I’m going to go call your mom.” He leans forward, like an instinct to kiss you, but purses his lips and leans back. “Right, no sickness for me.” So instead, he presses two fingers to his lips then plants them on your soft lips. The makeshift kiss would have to do for now.

“You’re adorable when you want to be, y’know that?” You hum, taking a second to pop the pill into your mouth and taking a sip of water to hide the growing grin on your lips.

Gavi, now standing, raises an eyebrow. “I’m always adorable, what are you talking about?” He’s walking backwards towards the door, hands cupping his cheeks to add a dramatic effect.

Despite how much it hurt, you laugh, your smile reaching your eyes as you watch his figure disappear behind the door.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @gadriezmannsgirl !

[lotusbxtch]

SoCal to NorCal: Chapter 2

Series Masterlist Chapter 1: Malibu

Series Pairing: husband!Joel Miller x f!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales Series Summary: Joel is your rock, and Frankie is your ocean. So what happens when you bring the three of you together? - or - you and Frankie roadtrip up from Southern California to Northern California so he can meet Joel. A polyamory fic. This series exists in the Triple Frontier universe and is a Joel Miller AU/Triple Frontier AU. Series Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter 2: Highway 101 & Beyond

Chapter Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader x Joel Miller

Chapter Summary: As you road trip north, you and Frankie struggle to voice your growing feelings for each other. Joel suggests something surprising, and the three of you unexpectedly explore new territory together.

Word Count: 8.7k

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, MDNI

Chapter Warnings/Tags: polyamory, phone sex, video sex, masturbation (f and m), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (wrap it up pls!), multiple orgasms, creampie, cum kink, cum eating, there’s a lot of cum lol i’m sorry in advance if that’s not your thing, squirting, slight size kink, mentions of food, mentions of Frankie’s young daughter named Isabella, mentions of drug addiction and recovery, gratuitous descriptions of male and female anatomy, she/her pussy pronouns, heavy use of Spanish pet names/nicknames, Frankie the PEK, Joel’s filthy mouth is absolutely its own warning, idiots in love, a splash of angst, soft!Joel but also menace!Joel because we love a man with duality, Reader uses she/her pronouns, Reader is able-bodied, has breasts, and has hair that can be pulled, otherwise no description of Reader's skin color, size, body shape, hair color, eye color, or ethnicity, no use of y/n. Everyone is testing negative for STDs and Reader is on birth control.

a/n: The road trip continues! I’m so excited to dive more into Frankie and Reader’s relationship, and I KNOW you all have been waiting for Joel to get into the mix. Well, buckle up buttercups, because he is about to be THE BIGGEST MENACE lmao. A deeply grateful thank you to my darling @for-a-longlongtime, who encourages me every day, helped me massively flesh out some of the more emotional aspects of the chapter, and who I talk to almost every day, in addition to being my beta reader. Thank you @mountainsandmayhem, @alltheirdamn , and @mermaidgirl30 for screaming with me about these three when I shared excerpts with you. And thank you to everyone for being patient with me while I got this written up between huge life events (both good and bad)! Dividers & banners by the amazing @saradika-graphics, thank you. (Please note that the chapter graphic is NOT meant to be accurate to Reader — vibes only!)

If you enjoy my writing, please leave a comment, feedback or reblog! It would mean the world to me. Thank you!

You’re so happy.

After your short but memorable stay with Santiago, you and Frankie have been on the road, spending the last few days leisurely meandering up Highway 1 towards San Francisco. You take turns driving, playing car DJ, and sightseeing as you travel north. Tanned feet on the dash, chaste kisses to the back of hands while driving, a shifting playlist between your differing musical tastes. Nights spent snuggled up in a rental or hotel room, playing 20 Questions or “Would You Rather”, kisses turning into intertwining of limbs, labored breath and fingers gripping bed sheets, the murmuring of each other’s names like prayers. 

In Ojai, you drank a little too much wine at the tasting room and biked back to the hotel with wobbly legs. Hearst Castle landed on your list for the formerly-captive-now-wild zebras (you) and to gawk at “ridiculously rich people shit” (Frankie). Ocean kayaking amongst the sea otters and sea lions in Morro Bay filled both of you with wonder. Frankie let you lead him into every little boutique shop that called your name, contentedly trailing behind you while you browsed.

Wherever you were, Frankie indulged your sweet tooth by sniffing out the best artisan ice cream shops. One time during a playful debate, you bopped your frozen treat to Frankie’s nose, giggling at his surprised expression and kissing the sticky-sweet remnants off of him before he picked you up over his shoulder. Your shrieks of joy ricocheted off the small town street until he tossed you in the backseat of his Jeep and crawled in after you, demanding a taste of something sweeter. Before you knew it, you were moaning and sighing under Frankie’s ministrations in an abandoned parking lot. The sight of his messy curls between your thighs as he lapped at your core propelled you into a stratosphere of pleasure. 

The next morning, you continued your road trip north and stopped in Santa Cruz to experience the boardwalk since Frankie had never been. Sun-drenched wood slats under your feet, the crisp, briny breeze cooling your exposed skin. You and Frankie meander slowly, eating chocolate dipped soft serve cones and curly fries, hopping onto the slightly rickety carnival rides, including the famous wooden (and creaky) Giant Dipper roller coaster. (“This thing can’t be structurally sound if it’s making all that noise,” Frankie muttered, but you still got him to get on.)

Adrenaline trickling through your veins, giddy with endorphins from the coaster, you and Frankie debate who had the best strategy for the carousel’s metal ring toss game. “You can’t just huck it like a ninja star,” he gripes about your approach, shaking his head with a smile. “You have to finesse and time it, and throw it like a frisbee so it floats in.”

“I swear, I was way closer than you were,” you shoot back. “I’ve had my whole life to perfect my technique. One of my rings hit the clown’s mouth! More than I can say about your attempts.” You stick your tongue out at Frankie, and he rolls his eyes playfully. Neither of you had set off the lights and buzzers that indicated a successful throw. He’s about to point this out when his phone trills.

Pulling it out of his pocket, his eyebrows knit together a bit before answering. “Mamá,” Frankie says into the phone, “Que pasa? Is something wrong?” He had dropped off Isabella with her for the duration of the road trip, his mother always eager to have “girl time” with her only grandchild. 

“No, no, mijo,” she responds, “Estámos bien. Isa is napping. I just wanted to call you and see how your vacation is going. You work so hard, you deserve to have this time to yourself!”

Frankie breaths a small sigh of relief. “Oh, okay, good. Well, I’ve gotta keep it short. We’re out here on the pier.”

“ ‘WE?’ ” you suddenly hear screeching out of the phone, her tone ecstatic. “Who are you with? Oh my goodness, are you with that girl?” 

Frankie winces, holding the phone away from his ear as you chuckle. “Yes, mamá,” Frankie responds, “the woman I told you about. You don’t need to yell.” He looks at you, a blush slowly creeping up his face, a sheepish smile on his lips. He mouths “five minutes” while walking towards the side of the walkway. Nodding your head with a smile, you whisper, “take your time,” and kiss his cheek, settling on a bench nearby but out of earshot of the conversation, allowing Frankie his privacy. 

“Oh, mijo, that’s wonderful!” his mother exclaims. “When do I get to meet her?”

Frankie huffs out a laugh. “Mamá, relax. You will get to meet her in time. We’re not quite there yet.”

“What are you waiting for? Haven’t you been together for a few months now?”

“Yes, but…” Frankie trails off, not quite sure his mother can handle a full explanation of your situation. Honestly, as he thinks about it, he isn’t even 100% sure what to call the two of you anymore. “It’s complicated,” he says simply.

The both of you agreed to enjoy what you had with no expectations. But “no expectations” changed over the days, weeks, months to become a desire to be around each other more days than not. Visits in the dead of night became dates during the day, morphing into waking up in each other’s arms, eating breakfast together over the weekends, bedhead and sleepy eyes and warm smiles. He thinks about the way you make him laugh, head thrown back, with his whole chest. He thinks about your playful debates, the way you tease him when he loses to you in Mario Kart. He thinks about the way you writhe under, on top of, beside him as he draws pleasure from your body again and again, your moans and gasps creating the prettiest song he’s ever heard. Frankie thinks about your soul, your heart, your innate goodness, and then he thinks about how he can’t possibly deserve any more than you already give him, despite him realizing more every day that he can’t imagine his life without you.

Frankie’s mother clears her throat on the other end of the line, and he snaps back to the present moment.

“Francisco,” she says softly. “It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just tell her how you feel, and see where it takes you. If she's as special as you say she is, you're going to regret not saying anything.”

Frankie looks down at his boots, and then back at you. You smile at him from the bench, your sundress fluttering slightly in the breeze. “Mamá, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“If you want something, Francisco, go for it. I always told you that you need to be more confident in yourself.” Frankie’s mother sighs affectionately. “You have done so much for your career, for Isabella… you have more than made up for your transgressions, mijito. Do this one thing for yourself. Take the risk.”

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship, when he said he didn’t want anything serious because he was focusing on his career and his daughter. Not only was he in a stable job with room for upward movement, and becoming the father that Isabella deserved, it was because of you that he was able to achieve his goals. You’ve always supported him, encouraged him, and given him reality checks when he needed it. Not once have you asked for more in the relationship, but he never felt like you had to. He was willing to give you that and so much more. He was nearly certain that you felt the same way about having each other as a more permanent part of your lives, but without ever asking the question directly, he couldn’t be certain that it wasn’t just all in his head.

Frankie swallows thickly. “You’re right,” he acquiesces. “I’ll talk to her soon, when the moment is right. I don’t want to lose her.”

His mother coos sweetly at him. “Now that’s the son I know and love! I’ll let you go have fun with your lady. I love you, Frankie.”

“I love you too, Mamá,” Frankie whispers, and then ends the call. 

You’re people watching at the boardwalk as Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. There’s no surprise triggered by his arms around you, just a calm ease and warmth. He presses kisses into your hair and sighs deeply. Tipping your head to the side, you return the kisses up his arm and rub his knuckles with your thumbs.

“How’s your mamá?” you ask. 

“Good,” Frankie responds, “just checking in to make sure I was having fun on my vacation.” A sheepish grin blooms on his face. “Sorry you had to hear her scream about you.”

You snicker as you stand up from the bench. “Nah, it wasn’t my ear she yelled into… But I didn’t mind at all. It’s sweet how she checks up on you.”

He grins, lifting his cap briefly to run his fingers through his hair. “She knows how hard I’ve been working to make things right with my job, and with Isabella, and she’s been pushing me to take some time off.” He sighs, looking off into the distance, and you know him well enough to know he’s doubtful of his progress.

“You deserve it, Frankie,” you murmur to him, lacing your fingers with his. You both start strolling along the boardwalk again, Frankie looking deeply in thought. “You’re always so hard on yourself, and at the very least, you deserve some time off.”

Glancing over at him, your breath catches. Frankie’s already staring at you, curls wild in the sea breeze, brown eyes warm and sparkling. Suddenly your chest feels like it’s cracked open, warm and aching. You feel the spark in your heart, and you realize that your feelings may be more than a simple affection. You search Frankie’s eyes and you can see a steady hidden layer under the warmth of his gaze as he lifts your joined hands to his lips, kissing them softly. It makes your heart do somersaults, the deeper unspoken emotions that flickered across his irises. A deep devotion that tugs at your soul.

He deserves the world.

Frankie huffs a laugh, dropping his gaze. “Everyone seems to tell me that. Guess I should stop being so damn stubborn and start believing them.” You continue walking, Frankie swinging your hands between the two of you as you settle into comfortable silence.

This is more than lust and companionship, you think to yourself. The way he looks at you, touches you with such reverence. It goes deeper than respect and fondness. Only Joel had ever given you butterflies and yet here you are, a fluttering in your gut, foreign but familiar. But what does that mean for you and Joel? 

Can your heart love two people at once?

Whoa…. wait, “love”??

You push the thoughts away with a shake of your head, determined to be present in the moment with Frankie. Bumping gently into his shoulder to get his attention, you flash him a smile.

“Wanna see which one of us can win first at the dime toss game?” you ask Frankie, and his eyes crinkle at the corners the way you love so much when he smiles in return, his competitive streak flaring.

“Sweetness, I thought you’d never ask. Prepare to lose.”

After you absolutely demolish Frankie at the dime toss (he swears they rigged the bowls he was aiming for), you and Frankie hit the road towards the cute cottage you’d booked for the night. Among the draws was its proximity to good food while being simultaneously off the beaten path. You were dying to try the seafood restaurant nearby, which was recommended to Frankie by one of his coworkers.

Per usual for the northern California coast, the fog began to roll in from the beach, casting ghostly tendrils across the road. Fog was one of the things you missed most about home while in SoCal, where it was a rarity. You roll up the windows and flip on your seat heater with a content sigh, then drape your body over the center console to grab your oversized cardigan from the back. The move makes your short dress hike further up your thighs as you reach for the soft knit. Frankie glances in the rearview mirror, spotting a flash of the curve of your ass where it peeks out of your panties. The sight has him already hardening in his pants. A quiet groan rises from his throat involuntarily, and you smirk, knowing exactly what he’s reacting to. 

“God, hermosa, that fucking dress,” Frankie grits. “I’ve been half hard all day seeing you in it.” You say nothing, but look over at him, your smirk growing bigger as you recline the seat a bit more and stretch your body just so, making the light blue eyelet lace material ride higher up your thighs, which you spread lasciviously. 

“Oh?” you tease. “What are you going to do about it?” You see Frankie’s eyes flash with desire for a moment, but he works hard to keep his cool.

His hand inches up your inner thigh while he drives, teasing swirls with his fingertips across your soft skin. You pant quietly, your breasts heaving gently against the low, curved neckline, and bite back a whimper as more arousal pools in your cotton underwear. “Take off your panties,” Frankie gently commands.

Dragging the material down your hips and legs, you let your thighs part for him, inviting his touch. Frankie keeps his eyes on the road, calmly navigating towards a quiet backroad. His focused demeanor is a lie though; his increasingly rapid breathing is a dead giveaway. When his fingers brush against your drenched folds, he groans and grips the wheel tighter with his driving hand.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grits out. “You’re so fucking wet for me already.” His nimble fingers explore you, spreading the slick around, swiping a soft circle around the pearl of your clit. He plays with you, and you start to writhe. A smirk blooms on his face as he clocks your movement. Frankie loves teasing you like this, drawing things out until you buckle under the pressure of your mounting desires. But the throbbing of his cock and your soft mewling sounds are making him desperate. 

Frankie pulls the car over to a small lot connected to an overlook, its parking spaces empty since the vista point is shrouded in fog. Trees block the view of your parking spot to traffic on the road. He throws the car in park, ripping his seatbelt off, and pulls your face to his for a passionate kiss. Swallowing your moans with his lips, Frankie tangles his tongue with yours while his fingers grip the base of your skull. 

“You’re killing me with this slutty little sundress,” he pants, sliding his hand down to cup your naked sex. 

You let out a strangled cry. “Frankie, I need you.”

Frankie shushes you gently. “Get in the back, nenita. I’ve got you.” You comply, scrambling over the center console and pushing your back up against the door, legs spreading wide and fingers tracing your glistening folds. He feels like he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get his mouth on you in the next twenty seconds. He gets out of the front seat, yanking open the driver’s side back door and shutting it behind him after he slides in towards you.

“Gonna suck on that sweet little clit of yours ‘til you scream,” Frankie growls as he crawls towards your body, pushing your knees further towards your torso so you’re opened up lewdly for him. He slides his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to wet them, slipping them out and immediately burying them to the second knuckle in your soft cunt. A high-pitched whine is ripped from your throat.

“Frankie!” you whine, eyebrows furrowing together as you lock eyes with him. The mocha richness of his eyes has given way to pits of nearly black desire, and he keeps them on you while he presses his tongue flat to your swollen clit. Your eyes roll back and you nearly scream in pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby, I’m gonna make you come so hard,” he murmurs into your drenched folds, and then buries his face into you. You weave your fingers into his fluffy curls, opening your eyes to watch him at work.

Frankie’s eyes slip closed as he rhythmically pumps his thick fingers in and out of your pussy, curving them slightly up to hit that magical spot you can never quite reach the same way as he does. He sucks your hardened clit into his mouth, nestling it between the cleft of his lower lip and an almost imperceptible divot in the center of his tongue. That sweet, talented tongue swirls in precise tiny circles with the perfect pressure, while continuing to suckle exactly how you like it. Joel may go down on you like nobody’s business, but Frankie has cunnilingus nearly down to a science. At this point, he knows the exact series of moves to bring you to orgasm, and how long it takes really just depends on how long he feels like eating pussy that day. Sometimes, he’ll lay with his face between your legs for hours.

And right now? Frankie seems to want to break his own record for how fast he can get you to come.

Within seconds, you feel your orgasm gathering in your muscles. The tight shimmer of pleasure reverberates across your skin, in your bones, through every cell in your body, suspended in time, just waiting for a release. Frankie feels you tightening on his fingers, and you swear you feel him smirk against your slick folds. He keeps going, never faltering his movements, as the feeling inside you builds.

“Frankie,” you whine again, your body starting to shake. It shouldn't be physically possible for him to get you there so fast, and yet you feel that bowstring drawing impossibly tense in your body. “Frankie, I’m gonna… I’m so….” you keen, high-pitched, your chest heaving fast. Frankie moans against your folds, pressing just a bit harder with his fingers, crooking them just right, and sucks your clit hard.

You’re lucky that the area is truly secluded, because the scream tearing out of your throat as you shatter in ecstasy is loud. Your thighs lock around Frankie’s head as he moans deeply into your pussy, drawing out your orgasm expertly. Slick weeps from your cunt, soaking his lips and chin, and he slurps down every drop. He slows and gentles his ministrations on your core until he feels your thighs relax. Pulling back, he gives your folds one last kiss before he moves up your body to hover over your face, admiring the flush lighting up your features. Frankie kisses you gently, and you cup his face with both hands.

“Sweetest cunt I’ve ever tasted,” Frankie slurs, pussydrunk on you.

“God, you’re incredible,” you murmur against his lips, kissing him deeper, the taste of your own essence making you clench involuntarily. You can feel the thick, hard line of him against your thigh. Moaning, you press yourself into him. “Let me ride you, Francisco.” 

Frankie lets out a groan as he pulls you up. You rest your knees on the backseat, littering kisses over his face as he unbuttons and shoves his jeans and boxers down. His cock smacks his belly, precum smearing on his skin. Leaning over, you lick it off, his salty taste invading your senses. Frankie groans again when you suck him into your mouth. You gently lick his foreskin and pull it down to reveal his ruddy head, the tip leaking. Slurping and suckling, you sneak a hand between your thighs to rub your clit, the action not going unnoticed by Frankie. It seems to snap him out of his trance.

“I need to be inside you so badly,” he grits out, pulling you onto his lap. The skirt of your sundress flares over the both of you. Reaching down, he brushes his tip against your folds, making you both whine. Swirling it through your combined slick and spit, Frankie presses his head into you slowly. You take over, grabbing his hand to place it over your hip, and grind down on him, letting his length slip further and further into you. Your breath hitches as he spreads your walls, always a stretch no matter how many times you’ve taken him.

Frankie drops his head back against the headrest, his hands gripping you tightly. “You’re always so fucking tight for me, querida,” he pants, his eyes glazing over with lust. His words prompt another wave of slick to leak out of you, aiding your descent down his shaft as you swirl your cunt around him. Both of you moan, and soon enough you’re fully seated on him. You lean down, kissing him passionately, and he responds in kind, slipping his tongue into your mouth to massage against yours. Your hips begin to roll and Frankie breaks the kiss, a deep rumble of satisfaction vibrating through his chest.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s like hot velvet,” he grits out, grabbing your hips to buck up into you. He trails kisses down your jaw and leaves little love bites as he goes. The car is filled with the slap of flesh, the squelch of your cunt as you fuck yourself on his cock, your shared gasps and panted breaths. Frankie slips the straps of your dress down, pulling down the cups with it, your breasts spilling out of their confines. He ducks his head down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You whimper.

“God, Francisco,” you whine, riding him harder, spurred on by the way he laves his tongue over your pebbled nipple, gently catching and pulling it between his teeth. He switches to your other breast, his other hand anchored to your hip to guide your motions. His cock kisses that spot deep in you that only Frankie and Joel have ever found, and the feeling rips another moan from you. 

“That’s it, fucking ride my cock,” Frankie pants. You lean forward, changing the angle a bit until your clit catches on his belly, which triggers your pussy to clench in pleasure. 

“Oh god, you feel so fucking good in me,” you moan, grinding down harder onto him, massaging your walls with his thick shaft and your clit with the friction of his course hairs. “You fill me up so well.”

“Softest, wettest pussy I’ve ever fucked, I swear,” Frankie slurs, losing himself in the feeling of you wrapped around his length. “You feel like silk on me, nenita.”

Your clit swells with the stimulation of every roll of your hips, making your cunt clench around Frankie. He lets out a whine. Your brows furrow in concentration as you seat his length in you as far as it will go, and he nearly chokes when he feels his tip kiss your cervix.

“You’re so deep in me,” you moan, working yourself on his shaft. “Tell me how good this pussy feels.” You’re desperate to hear him lose it.

“You feel amazing,” he whines, his dick hardening and swelling even more as he approaches his high. It feels like he’s lighting up every nerve ending inside of you. At this point, Frankie’s lap is dripping with your arousal, slick squelching and slapping sounds as thick in the air as the smell of sex. Both of you are covered in a sheen of sweat. You can tell he’s getting closer, so you start fucking him harder, driving his cock deeply into you, to the point where you feel like you’re beginning to meld together, a writhing, wet, hot mess of pleasure.

“Yeah?” you ask rhetorically, riding him harder and harder. “Are you going to come for me, Francisco?” You continue to use his full name, knowing how much it turns him on when you say it. “I want you to fuck me so full of your cum; I wanna be dripping for days. I want you to fill me up so bad.”

“Oh fuck, nenita,” Frankie whines as he loses himself in your heat. “I’m gonna fuck you so full. Gonna give you all of my cum. Gonna put it right where it belongs, deep in this cunt.” You roll your hips harder, your tits bouncing with the effort, and Frankie fucking whimpers. Your pussy tightens at the sound. It always turns you on so much when he loses control.

“Do it, Francisco. Fill me up,” you pant, your own orgasm barrelling towards you. Frankie’s thighs begin to quiver under you, and you know he’s almost there, too. You grip the base of his skull with one hand while the other steadies yourself on his shoulder, and then you lean down, nipping his earlobe. He whimpers again, completely fucked out.

“Come for me, now,” you beg in a whisper.

Frankie shouts as his grip on you turns to steel, and at the first hot spurt of his cum inside of you, your orgasm rips through you. Your cunt clenches, prolonging his pleasure, as your release soaks Frankie’s lap and his cum paints your insides. You both cry out at the feeling, foreheads pressed together. Frankie leans in and latches his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss.

As you both come down from your highs, you lean into Frankie, and he rubs his hands along your back soothingly. The softest kisses pepper your face, your sweat cooling down your skin while you both heave breaths, trying to recover. You weave your fingers into Frankie’s damp curls and scratch his scalp.

“Couldn’t wait ‘til we got to the rental, huh?” you quip.

Frankie huffs a laugh and hums in pleasure at your ministrations on his scalp. “Not when you tempt me with those dresses, baby. You know what flashing me a peek under your skirt does to me.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” you tease, nipping his ear.

He jerks away at the ticklish sensation, then gently bites your shoulder in retribution. “Such a tease, hermosa,” he tuts. You both begin to untangle your sweat-slick limbs, and you slip yourself off of Frankie’s cock, groaning quietly in contentment as you stem the flow of his spend from your pussy with your fingers, shuffling around, seeking your panties. Finding them in the front seat, you slip them on, pressing the fabric into your cunt to keep yourself full of Frankie. Both of you get back into the front seats.

You fix your hair as you settle back in but pause, looking up to see your boyfriend staring at you, an achingly soft expression painting his whole face. Amber eyes, golden flecked irises, striking deep to your soul.

Breath catching in your throat, vulnerability rolling through your nerves. That flutter in your heart once again.

Before you can process anything, Frankie shakes his head slightly, as if emerging from a daze. “Well I’ve certainly worked up an appetite,” he quips, squeezing your knee gently. “Let’s get some of that clam chowder.” You nod, breathing deeply and shoot him a crooked little smile. He intertwines his fingers with yours, and then puts the Jeep into gear.

A couple hours later, you arrive at the rental, Frankie bringing both of your bags in. You close the door behind the two of you, kicking off your shoes, and survey the place. A small kitchenette to the left, cute velour loveseat to the right, and through adorable French doors, the king size bed, dressed in the fluffiest looking bedding. A dresser and full-length gilded mirror complete the decor in the bedroom, everything fitting perfectly into a cottagecore dream aesthetic. The last of the natural lighting filters through the windows.

Frankie drops a quick kiss to your forehead. “I need to scrub off the road,” he says in passing while stripping off his clothes. “Why don’t you relax a bit before we decide what we’re doing for the rest of the night?”

You snort out a laugh. “Frankie, it’s not like we’re on the Oregon Trail in a covered wagon. We’ve been driving in an air-conditioned car, Mr. Drama Queen.” He laughs and tosses his hat at you, disappearing into the en suite bathroom and closing the door behind him.

Settling into the plush bed, you set Frankie’s hat on the dresser and grab your phone to catch up on messages missed during the drive, when suddenly your phone starts buzzing. Joel’s name flashes onto the screen, and you hit the green button to accept the video call.

“Hey, baby,” you coo, grinning widely as Joel’s handsome tan face appears on your screen. His umber & silver hair is damp and slicked back, likely fresh out of the shower just like Frankie will be in a few minutes. The headboard of the bed you share with Joel sits behind him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you?”

Joel chuckles. “What, can’t a man call his pretty wife just to see her face and tell her that he loves her?”

You giggle. “I suppose that’s a good enough reason.” His eyes soften, and then flick down the screen.

“I see you’re wearing that sundress I like so much,” Joel muses. 

You smile, extending the arm holding your phone so he can see more of your body. “Oh, this little number?” You shift onto your knees, spreading them wide and running your other hand teasingly slow from your collarbone, down the slope of your breast, across your waist, and then down your thigh, retracing your path slightly to lift the hem of the skirt. “Frankie hadn’t seen it before, and he likes it just as much as you do.” Your cheeks flush at the memory of Frankie taking you in the car, and Joel hums lowly when you break eye contact with him.

“Did you and Frankie get up to some fun earlier, baby?” You pause, unsure of where this is going, and then nod your head.

“Words, sweetheart,” Joel reminds you.

“Yes, Joel,” you whisper breathlessly. 

He nods approvingly, a small smirk gracing his plush lips. “I could tell, you got that faraway look in your eyes like you do when you’re thinking about me fucking you.” Joel shifts his seat on the bed, and you recognize the movement as a sign that he’s getting turned on. This is a new development, you think to yourself. He’s rarely asked about sex with Frankie before. 

“Did Frankie treat your pussy right? Did he fill you up?” You nod again, your core beginning to pulse as you affirm with your words, and Joel groans.

“Let me see it.”

You choke on your breath. “What?”

This was not something Joel had ever asked before.

“You heard me, darlin’,” Joel asserts, his eyes darkening. “Let me see that pretty pussy full of Frankie’s cum.”

A full-body shiver ripples through you. “Yes, Joel,” you murmur obediently, sliding off the bed to retrieve the phone stand you use often when you’re away from Joel. You set it up on the dresser near the bed, the front-facing camera angled advantageously for him while allowing you to see him as well. Coming back into frame, you slowly unzip your dress, letting it fall to the floor. You slide your damp panties down, the heady scent of Frankie’s cum wafting up from your heated core. Joel leans back and lets out a low groan. 

You climb back onto the bed once naked, noticing Joel’s espresso brown eyes have deepened to the color of a moonless night, his pupils dilated in desire. Putting your back to the camera, you get onto your hands and knees, canting your hips forward and ass back. You rest your forearms on the bed, looking back at the camera, and snake one hand between your legs to spread your pussy open with your fingers. Joel moans unabashedly at the view, your glazed pussy glinting in the light, Frankie’s milky spend coating it and gathering at your opening. He watches as your cunt clenches at the sound.

“Fuuuuuck, darlin’, that little pussy always looks so fuckin’ good when it’s covered in cum, don’t it?” Joel asks rhetorically, running one hand down his chin through his greying scruff. You whimper in response, the movement of your contracting walls pushing a thin stream of Frankie’s cum out from deep in you, dripping onto the bed sheets. This feels so debauched, filthy, and you are incredibly turned on by Joel’s response to the sight of another man’s cum decorating your most intimate parts. 

“God, if I was there I would be rubbin’ that cream all over your swollen little clit,” Joel drawls. “Can see her peekin’ out at me. Can you flip over? Wanna see you touch her for me.” You oblige, gathering the pillows to prop yourself up, and lean back against them as you butterfly your thighs open for your husband. Holding his gaze, you slowly trace your outer lips with your fingers, feeling the slide of Frankie’s spend lubricate your movements. You swirl your fingertips through the mess of slick and cum at your entrance, then glide them up to the pearl of your clit, throbbing in anticipation. At the first touch, your breath catches on the edge of a jagged little moan. 

“So sensitive already?” Joel teases, and you see him shift in his seat at the same time that the rustle of his pants tells you he’s pulling them down. The thought of him needing to touch himself at the sight of your messy cunt makes a pang of need course through your core. 

“Let me see it, baby,” you whisper hoarsely towards the phone, desperate to see the physical proof of his desire for you, for the sight of Frankie’s desire for you. The frame jostles a bit as Joel sets his phone up on the phone stand you have in your bedroom for times like these. It’s not the first time you have had video sex while apart and it certainly won’t be the last. 

And as Joel walks backwards toward the bed again and into frame, you barely stifle a gasp.

His cock is an absolute marvel, still is after a decade of being together. Thick, long, and uncut, the sight of him always makes your mouth water and your pussy slick. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, stroking his length languidly, the gleaming cockhead a flushed pink, disappearing and reappearing from under his foreskin. His gray, worn sweatpants are pulled just under his ass. Heavy, sizable balls drape over the waistband. You’ll never get tired of the sight.

“See somethin’ y’like, angel?”’Joel teases, his Texas twang always thicker when he’s aroused. His thick thighs are spread wide as he sits on the bed.

“Yes… everything,” you breathe, starting to rub your pussy again. 

“Nuh-uh,” Joel tuts, and your fingers immediately stop. “I didn’t tell you that you could touch yourself. Let’s wait until Frankie can join us to have fun.” Your body flushes with more arousal; Joel’s never asked to include Frankie before. But then again, you’d never asked if he wanted to.

As if on cue, the bathroom door squeaks open and Frankie appears, freshly showered, dark curls dripping a bit onto his broad, golden shoulders. A white towel is wrapped around his narrow waist, and he takes a moment to assess what he’s walked into.

“Babygirl, are you getting started without me?” Frankie purrs as he strides towards you, then pauses when he realizes your phone is on the stand and positioned right at your dripping cunt.

“Hey, Frankie,” Joel’s voice floats warmly into the room. “I figured you’d want to watch our girl play with herself, so I made her wait.”

Our girl.

You shiver in arousal — and something else — at the moniker. Your eyes flick to Frankie, a smirk beginning to grace his lips but a bit of hesitation in his eyes. This was all new to him, too.

Frankie moves towards the armchair situated in the corner of the room, behind where you had your phone set up. He was already adjusting himself, clearly aroused, which you took as a good sign.

“Frankie, are you okay with this?” you inquire, trying to gauge his consent to what was unfolding. “If not, I can —“

“Yes,” Frankie grits out hoarsely. “I want to watch you with Joel.” His tone sets off another wave of pleasure through your nerves.

Joel chuckles, his voice smooth and deep as whiskey. “Well, darlin’, give us a show. Go on ‘n pet that pretty lil’ pussy for us.” Planting your heels on the bed, you use your fingers to spread yourself open as another trickle of Frankie’s previous release leaks its way out of you. Both men groan at the sight. Scooping it up, you glide your way up to your throbbing clit, starting to circle it just the way you like. A moan leaves your parted lips; you tilt your head back while you work yourself. Your other hand moves to pinch and thumb a nipple, drawing it into a tight bud.

“Mmm, good girl,” Joel praises you. His hand starts pumping his cock once again at the same time Frankie palms himself through the fluffy towel. Frankie’s eyes flick from you to the phone, still trying to feel out the dynamics of the three of you. But both men can’t keep their eyes away from your soft pussy and swollen clit, glazed in your arousal and Frankie’s cum. Holding both of them in rapture while seeking your own pleasure is a heady power trip that wraps its silken claws into your brain. 

You feel like a goddess.

“Joel,” you moan, writhing in pleasure on the bed, but not quite where you want to be. “I need more.”

“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” Joel croons through the phone, the soft fapping sound of him working his cock audible. 

“I want… more,” you whine, mind so hazy with pleasure that you can’t even articulate your desires. “Please.”

“Hmmm,” Joel responds, slowing down to consider his options. You look up in impatience just as a wicked smirk crosses his face.

That look always means trouble. 

“Y’told me how good Frankie is at goin’ down on you,” Joel continues, “so why don’t you let him show me?” You hear Frankie’s breath choke in his throat in surprise as a whimper escapes your lips at Joel’s words. Frankie’s eyes dart from yours to the phone and back. 

“Frankie?” you hear Joel say while your eyes remain on your boyfriend. “Would you be okay with that? Would you show me how hard you make our girl come with that tongue’a yours?” You let out a little moan at Joel’s filthy words, and Frankie groans involuntarily at the sight of another dribble of his cum escaping your pussy.

“Oh, baby, you’re still drippin’?” Joel coos at you. “Frankie must’a stuffed you so full’a his cum. Do you like eating yourself outta her sweet cunt, Frankie?”

In a flash, Frankie enters the frame as he spreads your legs further apart and wedges his shoulders between them, leaving enough space for Joel to watch the action behind him. “I fucking love it,” Frankie growls in response, immediately running his tongue in a broad stripe from the bottom of your slit to your clit, tasting himself and you as he swallows every drop of cum and slick you released. You throw your head back, keening.

“Damn,” you hear Joel choke out, his hand moving faster on his cock at the sight of Frankie diving headfirst into your cunt. Eager to prove his skills, Frankie works you up rapidly to your orgasm, your moans pitching higher and higher within a minute. He swirls his tongue over your clit, then slides two of his fingers inside to the last knuckle, aided by your copious slick and the remnants of his cum. Your back arches off the bed from the sensation as you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, angel,” Joel grits out, his breath coming faster. “He eatin’ you good?”

“Yessss, Joel,” you whimper, your hand holding Frankie’s head firmly to your center. “I’m gonna fucking cum!”

Frankie moans encouragingly, reverberating across your cunt, and the tether inside your core snaps. You stutter out a groan, punctuated each time your pussy spasms with your release on Frankie’s fingers. The man between your thighs laps it all up, moaning in delight. He pulls back, kissing the inside of each thigh, and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Good fucking girl,” Joel purrs at you as you catch your breath. You hear a slightly pained groan, and look at the screen to see Joel gripping the base of his cock to stave off his orgasm. Hmm, that’s odd, you think. Joel usually comes when he’s decided he’s done making me come.

The realization hits you a split second before Joel’s deep, commanding voice spits out, “Again, Morales.”

Ohhhh, fuck.

You whip your head around when you hear Frankie suck in a breath as he stares at the phone, his chest heaving. Looking down, you see his cock achingly hard under his towel, his neck flushed with arousal. Frankie turns to you, his onyx eyes shimmering ferally. You know following orders gets him going, but you’re surprised that Joel clocked that about him instinctively.

In a split second, Frankie’s spread both of your legs again, pinning you open obscenely wide by your thighs. His tongue immediately begins to fuck into your pussy, the strong muscle prodding and curling just right. Your head slams into the soft mattress, a squeal leaving your lips at the sudden pleasure. With every thrust of his tongue, you feel Frankie grinding desperately into the bed, trying to stem the intense arousal building below his waist.

“Talk to me, darlin’,” Joel’s voice floats in your ear, pulling you out of the cloud of intense pleasure momentarily. “Tell me how good Frankie feels.”

“He’s so good,” you moan, alternating playing with your nipples and curling your fingers in the bedding. “His tongue feels so good in my pussy.”

“Is he as good as me?” Joel asks, his voice dropping an octave. There’s not a hint of jealousy, just charged curiosity.

“Yes, baby,” you coo, gasping as Frankie moves his tongue back to your clit and slides his fingers back into you, reaching that spot deep in you that makes your eyes roll back. “So good. Just… different.”

Joel lets out a quiet growl, his voice dripping with sex. “Good. Your pussy deserves the best.”

“Frankie,” Joel commands. Frankie lifts his head from your center, moving his thumb to replace his tongue on your clit, making your back arch again. “Have you made her squirt before?”

“Yeah,” Frankie breathes, looking back at you. “She’s so beautiful when she does it.”

“Good,” Joel rumbles. “Make her squirt for us.”

Frankie nods once, then pulls his fingers out slightly until he hits the spongy spot near the entrance of your pussy. He starts swirling the tips of his fingers against it, pressing his other hand down gently but firmly on your lower belly above your pubic bone, and then lowers his head to suck your clit back into his mouth. You keen, your body folding in on itself from the intense pleasure. Frankie moans into you, but you hear a growl rip from Joel’s throat.

“Don’t you dare hide that beautiful body,” Joel demands. “Lay back and spread your legs for us.”

You comply, barely able to shift yourself open again before Frankie starts intensifying his ministrations. You hear Joel’s slick fist jerking his cock again while he coos at you and praises you, telling you how good you’re being for him and Frankie, how pretty and strong you are.

“You can take it, angel,” Joel moans with the squelching of his cock in his hand acting as an obscene background track for your pleasure. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whimper, your cunt making equally debauched sounds with every thrust of Frankie’s fingers. “I’m so close. Feels so fucking good.”

Frankie presses harder on your belly and sucks your clit more fervently, and your cries pitch higher. “Oh god, Frankie, you’re gonna make me come,” you whine, toes curling and thighs beginning to shake. A desperate moan from Frankie’s mouth is muffled by your cunt, making you cry out again.

“Let go for us, darlin’,” Joel grits out, his hand a blur on the screen as he approaches his orgasm as well. 

Frankie peels himself away from your drenched folds just long enough to command, “Come for us, now,” and then latches back onto your clit, sucking hard, and that’s the moment you break, nearly screaming. Frankie works you through the first wave of your orgasm with his mouth, then pulls back, slipping his fingers out of you as your release gushes out, spraying your belly, thighs, and Frankie’s torso. With every pump and slide out of your pussy, Frankie brings forth another spray of release, drenching your body and his. 

You’re barely aware of Joel’s groans of pleasure in the throes of your own, but when you come back down moments later, you can hear the edge of desperation in his sounds. You look over to the phone to see him with his teeth bared, the head of his cock an angry red, his fist slick with precum and spit. More pearly liquid slowly oozes from the slit at the top.

Joel is barely keeping it together.

“Joel, honey,” you moan, “I wanna see you come.”

Joel growls. “Francisco,” he grits out. Frankie, who’s looking at you in amazement and pride, snaps his head to the phone at the sound of his full name. You see his cock twitch under the towel.

“Get our girl messy, Francisco.”

A whimper worms its way out of your throat as Frankie whines. Unashamed and blind with arousal, he whips the towel off his waist and his cock bobs, hard and thick. You hear Joel’s breath hitch. I’ll tuck that reaction away for later, you think. 

Frankie kneels between the damp sheets under your thighs, spitting into his hand and fisting his cock hard and fast. His muscles flex with the intensity of feeling, breathing rapid. His grunts get louder and longer as he swiftly approaches his peak. You hear a long, low moan from the phone, Joel nearly delirious with how worked up he is over the scene playing out.

“Where?” Frankie moans, desperately trying to follow orders before he blows his load. Precum drips onto the sheets.

“Her tits,” Joel pants, “and her pussy. Paint her like a fucking picture, Frankie.”

“Oh fffuuuu—“ Frankie grits out just before he explodes, his release shooting out onto your nipples, the curves of your breasts, and then he’s aiming lower, coating your mound and pussy lips with his seed.

You’re dripping with yourself and Frankie, an absolutely debauched sight.

Suddenly you hear a shout from the phone, and turn just in time to see Joel shoot his load all over his chest, belly, and even some on his neck with how hard he’s coming. Every spurt paired with a moan; one of the prettiest sights you’ve ever seen in your life. 

For a moment all you hear is the shared heavy breathing of yourself, your boyfriend, and your husband, and then Frankie is kissing your forehead, your lips, and then working his way down your body. When he goes to lick off his cum from your tits to clean you up, you groan in protest.

“Too sensitive, baby,” you plead, and Frankie acquiesces, cooing at you. 

“You did so well for us, nenita,” he soothes, stroking your face and planting kisses across your eyelids. “You’re so beautiful. Let me rinse off and get you cleaned up, okay?” With your mind pleasantly fuzzy from what just transpired, you simply nod, and Frankie goes into the bathroom for supplies. You let your head roll to the side, and smile tiredly at Joel, who’s watching you with pride and love while he towels off his release from his body and hands.

“I would have licked up all that cum off you to save you from having to add another towel to the laundry,” you giggle, feeling your own juices and Frankie’s cum cooling on your torso. You run your fingers through the slick release Frankie left on your pussy, teasing your clit with the silky fluid. Your body shudders a bit with overstimulation, and Joel shakes his head.

“You just like makin’ a mess and then cleanin’ it up, you dirty girl,” he chuckles, watching you enjoy the tactile sensations.

“Stop pretending that you don’t like me like that, Joel,” you fire back with a smirk. “What is it you said exactly? Oh, right. ‘Get our girl messy, Francisco.’” You imitate Joel’s baritone, making him bark out a laugh. 

“Fine, I do love seeing you drippin’, darlin’,” Joel admits. “Whether it’s my cum or Frankie’s.” You bite your lip and giggle, basking in the glow of this new era of your relationship with Joel. You didn’t expect he’d be so enthusiastic to see you with Frankie.

The door pops open, Frankie emerging with a warm, damp washcloth for you. Although you reach for it, he tuts and gently pushes your hand away, insisting on wiping you down himself. He gently strokes the cloth across your skin, softly smiling and pressing kisses to your face and body as he does. Joel’s heart warms at the sight before him, seeing how well Frankie takes care of you.

Tossing the cloth back into the bathroom, Frankie gets up from the bed. “I’m going to get some water for us. Do you want cold water to help you cool down, or your usual water cocktail?” Frankie asks, always remembering your quirky penchant for filling your insulated water bottle first with hot water until halfway, and the rest with cold. 

“Water cocktail, please,” you giggle, snuggling further into the bedding.

Frankie grins, then lightly kisses your forehead, grabbing your water bottle off the bedside table in the process. He walks out, and you sigh contentedly.

“Wow, Frankie automatically includes Water Cocktail on his drink menu now, huh?” Joel chuckles.

You nod happily, grinning ear to ear. Laying your head on the pillow, you respond, “Yeah, he caught on fast. I think it was after the third week of seeing each other that he started asking if I wanted it instead of bringing me a glass of cold water. I didn’t even tell him explicitly, he just noticed me doing it.” You pause, brain pleasantly fuzzy in your post-orgasmic state. 

“I… I really like him, Joel,” you whisper, slowly fading as sleep creeps to you. You blink your eyes gently at Joel, who looks at you with the softest smile on his face, like you are the linchpin of his universe. 

“I know, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, his heart flipping in response. “I know.”

When Frankie re-enters the room with a glass of water and your water bottle, he notices how quiet it is. You lay burrowed under the covers, gently snoring, but he notices your phone is the only one on the video call anymore. His nerves zap a bit in concern, but then he replays the recent events back in his head. Joel seemed totally tolerant - nay, enthusiastic, to include Frankie into sex earlier. He doubts Joel left because he was upset; you probably fell asleep and he needed to go. Nonetheless, Frankie pics up your phone and exits the call, tapping around until he finds your message app.

Hey, that was really fun, he types out to Joel, a tiny flutter of nerves alight in his stomach. Excited to meet you tomorrow. Have a good rest of your night. – Frankie 

Staring at the words for a moment, he hits send before he can back out or second guess himself. Frankie then climbs into bed, wrapping himself around you before sleep claims him wholly.

a/n part 2: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you for your patience! I had so much fun writing it and I’m proud to be able to share it with you. For those of you not familiar with Southern/Central CA, you can view photo references here: the Santa Cruz carousel, Hearst Castle, info on Ojai, and kayaking in Morro Bay.

Have thoughts/thots, feelings, SCREAMS, asks? My inbox is open! 💌

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[writeriguess]

hii!! can u write a bakugou x reader where reader doesn’t have like an eating disorder but like problems with eating, like she was always a super picky eater growing up and always got made fun of for it. and nos she’s scared to eat around the others after moving into the ua dorms and always eats in her room or when others aren’t in the kitchen. and bakugou confronts her on it and makes her feel better. thank you!!

Since moving into the UA dorms, the kitchen has become a space you avoid at all costs. It’s not because you don’t like to eat — you do — but growing up as a picky eater meant countless comments and jokes at your expense. You still hear the teasing echoes in your head whenever you see others gather for meals, laughing and joking around the dining table.

Instead, you’ve fallen into a routine: wait until the common area is empty, the sounds of clinking utensils and laughter fading into the background, before sneaking into the kitchen for your own meal. You take your time preparing something small, usually plain or familiar. Then, you retreat to your room, away from prying eyes and judgmental stares.

Tonight, however, things are different.

You hear footsteps approaching just as you’re about to grab your food and make your escape. Your heart jumps into your throat as you try to finish quickly, but it’s too late. The door swings open, and Bakugo Katsuki stands in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he surveys the scene before him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You freeze, trying to mask your panic by casually reaching for your plate, but Bakugo’s sharp gaze catches everything. He steps into the kitchen, his presence overwhelming the small space, and you can feel his curiosity burning into you.

“I’m just… grabbing something to eat,” you mumble, hoping that’ll be enough to end the conversation.

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “I’ve noticed you never eat with the rest of us. You’re always hiding in your room, eating who knows what.”

You flinch at his words, embarrassment heating your cheeks. It’s true. You’ve been isolating yourself, terrified of the potential comments, afraid of being singled out like you were when you were younger.

“I just… I don’t like eating in front of people,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s easier this way.”

Bakugo’s frown deepens, his fiery red eyes locking onto yours. “You think I don’t see how you avoid meals with the others? It’s not normal. Why’re you acting like this?”

You bite your lip, feeling exposed under his scrutiny. How can you explain that years of being ridiculed for your picky eating habits have left you with an irrational fear of being judged? The words sit heavy on your tongue, too embarrassing to say out loud.

“I’m just… I’ve always been a picky eater,” you confess, your voice trembling slightly. “People made fun of me for it when I was younger. Now, I just don’t want to deal with it, especially with everyone here.”

For a moment, Bakugo says nothing. He’s staring at you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle, but then something shifts in his expression. His usual scowl softens, just a bit, and his arms uncross as he moves closer, standing just inches from you now.

“So you’re scared of what they’ll say?” he asks, his tone more measured, less harsh.

You nod, feeling a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. “Yeah. It’s stupid, but I don’t want to be the weird one.”

Bakugo’s eyes stay on you, unreadable for a moment, before he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Tch. Idiot.”

Your heart sinks at his words, but before you can retreat further into yourself, he speaks again, his voice gruffer but somehow softer at the same time.

“Look, no one’s gonna give a shit about what you eat. If they do, I’ll deal with them.” He takes a step closer, his eyes piercing but lacking the usual harshness. “Stop hiding, alright? You don’t need to do this on your own.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. You’ve grown used to avoiding confrontation, used to keeping this part of yourself hidden. But here’s Bakugo, offering something that feels dangerously close to comfort — something you hadn’t expected from him.

“I just…” you start, but Bakugo cuts you off.

“You’re not weak,” he says, his voice firm. “I’ve seen you fight, train, push yourself harder than most of the extras in this school. This—” he gestures to the plate in your hand, “—this is nothing compared to what you can handle.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment, you’re lost in the warmth of his words, the strange reassurance in his rough tone. He reaches for your plate, taking it from your hands before you can react, and he sets it on the counter with a clatter.

“Eat with me,” he orders, his eyes never leaving yours.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden command. “What?”

“I’m not repeating myself,” he grumbles, turning toward the fridge to grab something for himself. “We’re eating here. Right now.”

There’s no room for argument in his tone, but strangely, you don’t feel like arguing. Something about the way he’s handling the situation — not with pity, but with a no-nonsense attitude — makes it easier to breathe.

You hesitate for a moment longer before finally sitting down at the table, your plate in front of you. Bakugo joins you soon after, slamming a dish of his own onto the table with little regard for grace or subtlety. He’s not watching you like the others might, not making any remarks about your food. Instead, he starts eating, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

Minutes pass in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. The tension in your chest begins to ease as you quietly pick at your food, your fear of being judged slowly fading in the face of Bakugo’s presence.

When you finally speak, your voice is softer than before. “Thank you.”

Bakugo doesn’t look up from his plate, but you catch the faintest twitch of his lips — a near-smile. “Don’t mention it,” he mutters, stuffing another bite into his mouth.

You don’t realize it at first, but something shifts inside you. Maybe it’s the fact that Bakugo, of all people, sees your struggle and doesn’t judge you for it. Maybe it’s the way he treats you like you’re strong, capable, not some fragile thing to be coddled. Whatever it is, you feel a little lighter, a little braver.

The next time you sit down to eat with the others, Bakugo’s beside you, and though the teasing voices from your past still linger, they’re quieter now.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like at once.

[dr-spectre]

Hey I was wondering how you felt about the idea of hypnoshade Callie or the hypnoshades themselves being an addiction for her(or others if they get their hands on them).

I personally rather like since we already see Callie struggle with Idol life after Splatoon 1 and, like many that struggle with the stress of work, take it out with a vice. For some that might be smoking or drinking.

For Callie it would be heading down into the domes and listen to DJ Octavio , a known enemy from the NSS's perspective, and get hypnoshaded. Either willingly or unwillingly. (but most likely the former)

it would also explain the refights as Callie going back, like a smoker, for another hit after it has gotten to much to bare.

And just like someone being drunk, they are still themselves. We can even see this in game with Callie making music with the Octarians.

Double's down with Marie as well, helping Callie get throught an addiction. For Callie it might be an addiction to escape from inkling idol culture, or as it's implied with the scrolls. An escape from feeling alone, maybe even hated by her fans or inkoplois at large. (what with the catalyst being a lost popularity contest, and in splatoon lore. She is by LAW the worst squid sister.)

So uh just wondering if you like this take, or if the topic of hypnoshades just makes you barf on contact now. (not that I blame you)

(I also rambled a bit too long lul)

Hmm, I've had this take for a while where "Callie ends up getting addicted to the shades due to the relaxing and concentrating properties of hypnosis and how her life after Splatoon 2 still hasn't changed a bit."

The root problems of Callie's mental anguish are that she's very busy and lonely. Sure, she has Marie back, but the busy part is still there. She mentions that she has to remember lines for a script when she gets home and the acting gig probably still gives her a FUCK TON of stress. So she puts on the shades as a bad coping mechanism and would rather help the Octarians than go back to celebrity life.

You notice how in Splatoon 3, they never mention Callie's acting gig aside from Side Order talking about Callie's TV appearances for one line and the most recent relationship mentioning that Pearl watched it? Keyword: watched, past tense. That drama Callie was once in, she probably doesn't do it anymore because Callie herself never talks about it. Instead, Callie now just focuses on writing music for the Squid Sisters and working with Marie. Her schedule is MUCH BETTER NOW!

And because she's made significant improvements in her schedule, she doesn't need the hypnoshades to cope anymore and she can focus on further improving her relationship with Marie. That's why it's so fucking rock solid in Splatoon 3.

And that's also why Callie is able to go back to making TV appearances again and feeling MUCH MORE confident and feeling like she can handle it.

All of this to say is.... THE TAKE THAT CALLIE IS AN IDIOT WHO PUT THE SHADES BACK ON BECAUSE SHE IS DUMB IS THE WORST FUCKING TAKE IMAGINABLE AND ULTIMATELY UNDERMINES THE INTERESTING DEPTH AND NUANCE THAT COULD BE AT PLAY HERE!!!! STOP TREATING LIKE CALLIE SHES AN ACTUAL AIRHEAD!!!!! SHE WOULDNT PUT ON THE SHADES AGAIN IF THEY "brainwashed her and removed her memories" THAT WOULD BE FUCKING TRUMATIC FOR ANYONE!!!! IT JUST HYPNOTISES HER AND HYPNOSIS IS KNOWN TO BE A FUCKING METHOD USED IN TREATING MENTAL ILLNESS OR ADDICTION!!!!

OKAY?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?! Cool! Awesome! Glad we're on the same page!!!

[juelzsstuff]

Telling armin about your crush (spoiler it's him)

!sfw! idk how to write i didn't pass english class dont come at me.

you two were best friends since childhood and you've always had a crush on him even a little more than a crush and the two of you never spared any details when it came to your lives. you often hungout with jean, connie and sasha and mostly went on missions with their group. you two were talking around a camp fire to catch up after everyone had gone off to sleep, too deep in conversation to head to bed.

————————————————————

"imagine if the captain saw us up still, he'd probably make us dig each others grave" you say laughing quietly. "yeah i know but hey at least we wouldn't be dying along as a titan snack" he smiled back at the thought of you two being buried next to each other with matching headstones. A memory sparks in your mind, "omg i forgot to tell you", you turn toward him ready to spill your latest gossip, something you two did regularly. "i went out to go do my cleaning in the mess hall and i saw the hottest man i have ever seen in my entire life and okay so my first thought was holy shit, my second was the realization that i looked like i just crawled out of a pile of horse shit and i was already staring at him and yk what this man did" you pause covering your face in embarrassment. armin has a huge smile on his face waiting to hear how badly you fumbled, "what did he do?" you slide your hands off your face and turn toward him putting a hand on his leg to brace yourself from what you are about to admit "he came up to me because i'm staring still and said 'are you okay, did you come from the infirmary?' and i just made a weird noise that was supposed to be words and walked off". armin starts laughing trying to hold back, "you need serious help, there's no coming back from that y/n", you respond half laughing half fake crying "I KNOW". the laughter dies down and armin speaks up "so what did he look like?" you try to think of what he looked like and draw a blank, only remember some key points, "he had like brown hair and was sort of tall definitely shorter than you.....i guess now that i think about it, i really didn't see his face so he was probably average looking. not really my type". armin chuckles and he asks, "so what is your type then".

you think for a moment, a pang of anxiety runs through you. you've always pushed down your feelings for him and just enjoyed your friendship but tonight you might as well get a little bold. you think for a moment and look up at the starry sky, "i like smart guys yk? like the ones who aren't just a feral idiot ready to pick a fight or so full of themselves that it's annoying and weird". "blondes are okay too, my favorite actually" you say while stealing a glance at him, he's looking down at the ground and not really paying attention. so you keep talking "i've had a crush on this one guy but either he's oblivious or he's not interested so i've given up and so ive gone for the opposite type". armin looks at you intrigued, "a crush? like a serious one or like i barley saw his face and i made a weird noise one?" he says holding back a smile, his perfect teeth flashing for only a second. you nudge his shoulder and roll your eyes, "like a serious one". "can i guess who it is?", a nervous zap runs through your body and all your confidence is running out the window. armin seems to notice and is now even more excited and confident in his conclusion. he speaks with pure certainty, "it's reiner isn't it?"

your face drops and all the anxiety you had before has become straight disappointment, the only thought in your mind: omg he's an idiot. how is the smartest man in the scouts really this oblivious, you might as well have said your crushes name started with a ar and ended with a min. well maybe he knew what you were trying to say and he's giving you an out. it's too late now, time to commit or dig that grave you two were talking about earlier. you sigh and look at him in his sky blue eyes, "do you seriously not know? i'm talking about you armin" he sits there eyes wide and a blush on his cheeks, "w-what? me?" "yes who else, seriously? don't say you actually thought i was into reiner" you say sheepishly. armins heart is beating fast, he never thought you would think of him that way in a million years and all of a sudden his dreams have come true. all the years he spent listening to you talk about boys and his attempt to shove down his feelings for you and try to fall for another girl no longer mattered. all the times he got excited when you came to talk to him and no one else, every time you accidentally brushed his hand and it went straight to his soul. it now means something more than before but now his brain has basically stopped working and he might as well be dreaming. you talk again as you watch his brain short circuit "i love you armin and i always have, more than just a friend". he doesn't look at you and looks up at the camp fire with a smile and says, " i love you more than you know y/k, everything about you is so perfect. i always told myself anything you need i would be there first before anyone or.... any other guy could be. i would listen to you talk about the guys you see or liked and i would make a note in my brain of how maybe i could do the same so you'd talk about me and get that same look in your eyes". he chuckles, "one time i even tried to style my hair differently and i unbuttoned a few buttons on my uniform but the captain saw it before you could. that was the day i had to run laps till i collapsed". he smiles and hesitates before looking at you, soaking in your features in the moonlight contrasting with the dim coals of the bonfire. he speaks softly and tucks a strand of hair behind or ear, "you're so beautiful, i thought it was too good to be true". you blush and lean closer to him, the two of you like magnets. you stop inches away from his face, feeling his breath hitch and you look up at him and see his eyes closed. he's nervous, how cute, you wonder if he's ever kissed a girl before but that's better to ask after. you close the distance and his body relaxed and you melt into it with him, his hands reach up and hold your face so lightly. you've always wondered what it would be like, what he would be like and it's even better than you imagined.

[delulu4anime]

Cigarettes and Cherry Lollipops

Welcome to day two of my Kinktober list!

Parings: Aki Hayakawa x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Oral Fixation

Summary: He craves the nicotine while you crave the cherry flavor. Why not have a taste of each other? It’s about time for a new fixation to ease the stress anyways.

Warnings: smoking, language, blowjobs, dominate Aki, bit of throat fucking if you squint, you swallow, desperate Aki, sharing a lollipop with him.

Word Count: 2.5k+

A/N: 🔞NO MINORS ALLOWED. YOU WILL BE HEXED IF YOU DON’T LISTEN.🔞-I am so unbelievably feral for Aki and Kishibe form CSM. It is unhealthy and someone needs to study it. I foam at the mouth every time I see them. Lort have mercy. Anyways, this took me a little longer to write so I was late to day two but oh well. I hope you enjoy day two of Kinktober cause I wrote this with one hand down my pants. As always thank you for taking the time to read!

♫ I can be your sugar when you're fiendin' for that sweet spot/Put me in your mouth, baby, and eat it 'til your teeth rot ♫

The music bumped throughout the house and the conversations people were having seemed to all blend together. Aki wasn't sure why he let Himeno talk him into coming to this party tonight or why Power and Denji felt the need to tag along. Regardless he was regretting his decision greatly. Himeno was drunk and moving to the song that played a few feet away, not at all in rhythm with the tune. He'd lost sight of Power hours ago and he would've done the same with Denji had Aki not been staring him down like a hawk.

He could see how flushed Denji's cheeks were as Makima talked to him. She looked so relaxed talking to Denji while he looked like a mess as he usually did when talking to a woman especially one a beautiful as Makima. Aki could feel the jealousy bubbling up in him over this; that should be him having her attention not some idiot like Denji. Aki scoffed as he pushed off the wall he had been leaning against; he needed a cigarette...now. He maneuvered his was through what seemed like an endless see of people to get to the patio.

However, once he was able to get there he noticed even more people outside drinking and laughing with one another. Something he didn't want to partake in at all. He sighed as he looked around and saw a flight of stairs a short distance away so he decided to take his chances. He made his was upstairs and notice immediately that no one had bothered to set foot up here and better yet there was a balcony. Aki made his way through the bedroom and noticed the sliding door was ajar. The curtains on either side swayed in the light breeze that had made its way inside. Soon his gaze shifted to the person who was leaning against the balcony railing. Shit...he really wasn't in the mood to make small talk with anyone; maybe if he turned around quietly he could...

Before a plan could even form in Aki's mind you looked over your shoulder when you sensed someone's presence. Aki froze for a moment when your gaze met his and when he realized it was you he suddenly didn't mind the company. You were technically a newbie, only being with Makima’s sector for a year, but with how reserved you were most of the time he wondered if you had been a private devil hunter that just decided to join something like Public Safety. He didn't ever ask because asking leads to conversations and conversations were the last thing either of you ever seemed to want. You two were cordial with one another, never saying more than needed, and he liked that. You weren't a hassle.

So with his shoulders now relaxing knowing he could partake in his cigarette in peace he reached out and opened the sliding door. He stepped out into the cool night air and closed the door behind him. You had moved your gaze back out to the city around you without saying a word, knowing you didn't really have to when it came to Aki. A lollipop stick hanging out of your mouth like always. Aki pulled the carton of cigarettes out of his pocket and opened the lid with his thumb. He looked at the two measly cigarettes he had left and he made a mental note to stop by the convenience store on the way home.

He pulled one out and put it between her lips before he pulled his lighter out. There was a soft click before the flame appears and he leaned forward to lit the end of his cigarette. He makes sure to keep his distance from you so he doesn't blow the smoke near you. He inhaled the nicotine and it immediately sent a wave of relief over him; his eyes closing to relish the sweet relief.

"That's a nasty habit y'know." You said as you broke the silence between you two.

He opened his eyes and pulled the cigarette away from his mouth and exhaled the smoke. He stared at you for a moment as you continued to look out at the city; the party below seeming like a million miles away.

"Says the one always with a lollipop in her mouth. Don't know what's worse the fact you're bound to have cavities or the fact you look like a ten year old." Aki sassed back and for a moment he felt guilty for doing so…that is until you laughed. You looked over your shoulder and raised a brow.

"Better than getting lung cancer don't you think?" You shot back and Aki paused for a moment before he rolled his eyes.

He took another drag from his cigarette as he leans against the railing away from you still. Despite not really caring about the consequences of his habit he at least didn't want you to inhale the smoke. There was a brief pause between you as he exhaled the smoke and watched it lift into the night sky.

"I never understood your obsession with lollipops." Aki uttered out breaking the silence between you. His gaze moving over to you.

You hummed at his words as you grabbed the stick and slowly pulled it out of your mouth. Aki's eyes locking in on the way you do so and he can't stop the way he swallows thickly before his gaze moves back to meet yours. There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn't quite recognize especially when it was directed towards someone like you.

"It's called an oral fixation. You have one too just with cigarettes." You replied as you motioned to his cigarette between his fingers with your lollipop. "Helps ease the stress doesn't it?" You say as put it back in your mouth savoring the sweetness of the artificial cherry flavor.

"There's no way a damn lollipop will ease the stress." Aki says with a scoff and you roll your eyes at his skepticism. This reaction out of you was a nice little change up from how you both usually were with each other. It made him want to keep pushing you as he took another drag. "At least it keeps you quiet I guess."

Aki's lips curve up at the corners as he brings the cigarette back up to his mouth to take another drag.

"I know a few things that would keep me quiet for ever longer. Would fill up my mouth too much to even speak actually." You shot back without missing a beat.

Aki's eyes widened as he inhaled too much and started to cough. You watch him with a gaze akin to boredom as you continue to enjoy your sweet treat.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Silence that filled the air between both of you once again as you just stared at each other. Enough to hear the party continuing on downstairs and even the lyrics to whatever pop song was currently playing could be heard if you listened close enough. You could see the resolve in his gaze shift as he clenches his jaw; this was a side of Aki you hadn't seen before and you couldn't deny that you liked it. A lot.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Aki grumbled as the grip on his cigarette tightened between his fingers.

"Oh but I do know what I'm talking about. I mean it's one of my favorite things to do anyways. Suck on lollipops." You said as you continue to taunt him.

You expected him to blush and stammer on about how lewd you were being. To stop and even roll his eyes because despite him being attractive that didn't mean he had any experience with women. He was such a stickler for the rules at work and his mind seemed to have a one way track which really only consisted of killing devils or Makima. Which is why you didn't expect him to put his cigarette out on the balcony railing and his lips to pull into a slight grin. He let out a breathy chuckle and flicked the cigarette butt off the balcony not caring one bit where it could've landed. In the matter of a second he was in front of you and looking down at you with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes. You took a small step back but the railing preventing you from going anywhere. He reached out and grabbed your jaw and your breath hitches.

"Open your mouth." Aki commanded.

You blinked up at him for a moment and he raised a brow. He let go of your jaw and patted your cheek lightly.

"I said open your mouth."

You immediately do as your told and open your mouth. Aki tilted his head to the side as his gaze moves down to where the lollipop is sticking out of your mouth. He motions to it with his chin before his lidded gaze moves to meet yours.

"Gimme that." Aki said and your brow furrowed for a moment before your hand seemed to move on its own.

You raised your hand up, grabbed your lollipop, and started to pull it from your mouth. His eyes are glued on the way you slowly removed the lollipop from your mouth. A small string of saliva on the red candy before you reached up to put it in his mouth. He leaned down slightly as he wrapped his lips around the candy. His gaze moving to meet yours as he hummed at the flavor. Aki leaned back and moved his hands to his pockets as the white stick moved from one side of his mouth to the other.

"Get down on your knees." Aki commanded again after a moment of silence which only caused your eyes to widen.

"W-What?" You breathed out not expecting Aki to say or do this.

"You heard me."

Your body moved on its own again as you immediately fell down to your knees in front of him. He looked down at you with expression that was different than his usual aloof expression...he looked hungry.

"Go on. This is your favorite thing to do after all right? Sucking on lollipops. Show me then. Suck on mine." Aki said in a condescending tone as he moved the lollipop around in his mouth again.

You could stop the soft whine that leaves your lips at his words and the butterflies in her stomach start to flutter about. Had you known rilling him up would lead to this you would've done it a long time ago. Your hands reach up and start to undo his belt and slacks; in a matter of second you were eye level with his cock. Your mouth practically watered before you looked up at those blue eyes that seemed to darken the moment your eyes met. You opened your mouth and took in his length into your mouth.

You hummed at the taste of his pre-cum that had already started to form at the tip. The mixture of his taste combined with the after taste of the cherry was quickly becoming your new fixation. Your gaze never leaving his as you start to swirl your tongue around him which only causes him to groan. His eyes narrowing as you start to slowly move your head up and down against his length. His jaw clenched slightly as he watched you move against him and he couldn't stop himself for moving his hands out of his pockets and to the back of your head.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he shifted his hips against your mouth slightly. You moaned around him as you moved your hands to his thighs and gripped the fabric of his slacks.

"T-That's it...just like that." Aki grunts out as you move your tongue about and continue your movements.

The party continued on downstairs and occasionally you could hear the people right below you on the patio laughing and conversing with one another. They had no idea the lewd actions that were happening just above them on the balcony. It only excited you and made you want to please him more. Your eyes flutter shut as you focus on making sure he feels good. You pick up your movements which only earns you a string moans and grunts from the man above you. His grip on the back of your head tightens as he starts to move his hips more. His lips part and the lollipop hangs lazily in his mouth as feels his restraint snapping.

"F-Fuck m' sorry." Aki breathes out and before you can even process why he was apologize he was already bucking his hips forward. "C-Can't help it. Feels so good."

Tears build up in your waterline as you let him use your mouth the way he wants. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Had planned to save himself for his work and that was it. But seeing you standing there, taunting him, with that goddamn lollipop. Something took over him and right now he was feeling anything but regret.

He clenched his jaw and he feels the candy crunch under his teeth. He can feel his release coming sooner than he thought and it was all because of that mouth of yours. Because of your sassy remarks, the way you flaunted the lollipop, and now this. This might be his new fixation. His new way to dull down the stress of being a devil hunter. For having to baby sit Power and Denji. For not being able to even touch Makima the way he wanted. No this...this would be what he'd crave from now on. You.

"O-Oh fuck baby...baby...h-haa...m' gonna cum." Aki moaned out.

Baby? Heavens he was losing his mind. Your mouth felt too good. The way he spoke only caused you to moan around him and that was all he needed to send him over the edge. His teeth biting down on the stick of the lollipop as he held your head in place. His release filling your mouth as you gripped his slacks tightly. You swallowed every bit and as you pulled off of him you were expecting to be able to take a breath of air. What happened instead was Aki kneeling down to crash his lips against yours. The stick from the candy discarded but with the way he moved his tongue into your mouth all you could taste was the aftertaste of his release and cherry flavored bits of the lollipop. You moaned into the kiss as you both moved in sync with one another before he pulls away first. You both pant and swallow the pieces of the candy as you look at one another.

"Let me be your fixation," Aki panted out. "Let me taste you...devour you."

©Delulu4Anime 2024 All Rights Reserved

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[ghostlyfanparadise]

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[paimonial-rage]

unraveled - alhaitham

synopsis: after hearing a rather interesting rumor about your boss, how could you give up the chance to test its validity?

ship: alhaitham x reader

notes: 4.8k, prompt given by @milkstore more than a year ago lol

You heard something extremely interesting the other day while walking around the Akademiya. Now let it be said you were never one for gossip. Not that you viewed yourself as above gossip or anything; it just rarely had anything to do with you. This recent tidbit that drifted into your listening ears, though, it had you stopping cold in the middle of the morning Akademiya rush. It was shocking. It was discombobulating. It was absolutely world-shaking! Alhaitham, your boss…

… was apparently interested in someone.

You were used to hearing many rumors about Alhaitham—how he was planning to change Akademiya hours to a strict 9-5 schedule, how he destroyed the self-esteem of toddlers for fun, how he was secretly raised by Inazuman Rifthound Wolves with the blood of the abyss flowing through his veins—but those were easy to ignore. As his secretary, you were privy to his plans and personal information. You knew what was true and false (not including toddler thing—that was up in the air). However, Alhaitham interested in someone? Now that was interesting.

Your first reaction was to dismiss the rumor. Your boss followed a strict schedule that didn’t leave much room for other activities. That wasn’t even mentioning the sheer number of people that filed complaints regarding his tongue. Sad to say, he didn’t get along with most people. 

And, while you’ve never been in a relationship with someone before, you’ve seen how others acted. They became sweet to their lover, engaged in much physical contact, noticed them even in most crowded of rooms, and spoiled them rotten. Could you imagine Alhaitham doing such things? You most absolutely positively could not. 

But when you thought about it more, it was often said that love changed people. Even the grouchiest of grumps could turn into the softest of softies, right? It was a possibility. Added to that, he made it a point to leave when his time for the day was up. He had a decent amount of time after work to woo and court to his heart’s content. Yes, as you contemplated it all, you came to a set conclusion.

Your curiosity was piqued.

So, let it be made known now that you knew it was wrong to do so. You knew that if you got caught, you’d get sent straight to the scary General Mahamatra. But you had a duty and it was this duty you would uphold. You were an alumnus of the Akademiya and you would follow in the footsteps of your predecessors. Desperate times called for desperate measures, as they said, and desperate measures called for engaging in a long-supported research method. 

Stalking Observation. 

It was a brilliant plan, perhaps one of your smartest. If the Acting Grand Sage was interested in someone as rumors implied, observation would be the best method to discover the truth. To ensure your plans would go off without a hitch, you slammed through your work for the day. You even skipped out on Shawarma Wrap special hour at Lambad’s Tavern. Sure, your stomach may had been causing a ruckus, but such sacrifices were necessary. Today you would find the truth!

You were ready the moment 5pm hit. Your work was done, you were in civilian clothes and clocked out for the day. He didn’t even notice you weren’t seated at your desk when he walked by toward the exit! Judging from how everything was going so far, it seemed that your mission would be far easier than you thought! 

And it was! In fact, it was rather boring! His first visit was to the House of Daena. You hoped he would be there to meet someone, but he instead made a beeline for the new book section. After glancing over a few here and there, he picked out a few, checked them out with the librarian, then left. They weren’t interesting books either. As you peeked out from under a desk, you could catch a glimpse of the cover of one of the books about Inazuma. It was written by “Hat Guy.”

Hm.

Anyway, your heart pounded in excitement when he began heading in the direction of the Grand Bazaar next. You heard he recently became acquainted with a dancer from the Zubayr Theater. Perhaps the secret lover was her? But he disappointed you once more. He spent a total amount of five minutes glancing over stalls, looking at some ugly pieces of furniture, before quickly departing once a crowd of people began filing in for a show. 

As you followed him to your next destination, your initial reaction to this whole debacle started to become more and more plausible. It seemed all that was on his mind was errands, nothing more and nothing less. If anything was strange, though, it was how you didn’t seem to be disappointed by the turn of events. 

Though it was clear Alhaitham didn’t get along with most people, you personally liked him quite a lot. When you first came to the Akademiya from Mondstadt, you had a difficult time. You weren’t sure why at the time, but you tended to annoy people. No matter how friendly you tried to be, they sneered even more. It wasn’t until an explosive confrontation that you learned why. They saw you as disruptive and nosy. You lacked any pride. You were too idealistic. 

You weren’t like them.

You spent much of your time to yourself after that. You didn’t know how to act. You didn’t want to do anything wrong. Despite its warmer climate, Sumeru somehow felt colder than the winters of your homeland. 

You first met Alhaitham on a joint project. As usual, you kept to yourself through much of it. Being the only member of your darshan there, you knew you should have brought up your points of concern, but fear held you back. And sure enough, the project ended up heading in a direction that would inevitably hit the roadblock you predicted. You would’ve kept quiet had Alhaitham not spoken up.

“Are you planning on contributing anything worthwhile to this project?”

His words came so out of the blue you could only splutter in response, “Excuse me?”

“I recommended you for this project because I thought your research papers showed complex reasoning and a thorough work ethic. However, it seems I was mistaken. Not only have you not offered anything useful, but you insist on keeping quiet despite your knowledge of possible issues. So I ask you again. Are you or are you not going to contribute anything worthwhile?”

There were so many things you could’ve said, so many things you should’ve felt. It wasn’t like you weren’t doing anything! You fulfilled your set duties for the project. But despite your work, you were being labeled by him as essentially useless. The only logical response was to feel upset, even anger. But instead, a hesitant warmth filled your chest instead.

“Wait. You recommended me?”

Though his expression didn’t change, somehow you could see he was judging the strength of your intellect.

“Your studies relate to this project directly. Why wouldn’t I?”

You floundered, gesturing wildly for a few moments before finally getting out, “But nobody likes me!”

He simply stared at you deadpan, communicating through body language alone, “That is my problem how?”

“Are you sure you want me to speak up? You won’t get upset?”

He sighed.

“You were brought onto this project for your expertise. If anything, I would be upset if you did anything but that."

His words were astounding. They were game-changing. They were earth-shattering! In his eyes, you were not an outsider from Mondstadt. You were a scholar, and it would only be your merits upon which you would be judged. 

You knew he didn’t exactly like it, but you found yourself sticking around him even after the project was successfully completed. With everything you dealt with at the Akademiya, Alhaitham was like a breath of fresh air. Sure, he did tend to point out the fallacies in your logic and personal flaws that would get in the way of achieving your goals, but that really was it. It wasn’t like he was ever wrong either, so you didn’t mind. At least you weren’t getting criticized merely for existing. 

As for how he felt about you, you really weren’t sure. He wasn’t exactly the most expressive person in the world, nor the most feelsy either. Really, he could probably be replaced by a Rishboland Leopard and you doubted there would be much difference.

Still, if there was anything you did know, it was that he never pushed you away without reason. Even when his nose was buried in a book during his free time, he had no qualms letting you ramble to your heart’s delight. And when you finished, he would respond with his own thoughts, always surprising you with the fact that he was listening all along. 

There also was the fact he requested you personally as a secretary when he was forced into the role of Acting Grand Sage. Sure, working at the Akademiya after graduation in administration made it easier for you both to keep in touch, but you didn’t think he still kept tabs on your work ethic. So maybe, just maybe, the feelings he felt toward you were higher than simple toleration. And you were content with that. 

So lost you were in your musings that you almost didn’t catch him turn onto Treasures Street. You nearly bumped into a few people while correcting your course. But he didn’t head in the direction of his home like you assumed, however. Instead, it seemed he was making his way to Menakeri's Treasure Shop. Which was rather strange. That shop had been out of stock for the past year. Unless he was planning on reserving something with Khalid? 

Upon peeking inside, it seemed he was examining quills and fountain pens. You nearly gasped audibly. Was he perhaps finally listening to your advice and purchasing himself new writing utensils? You didn’t know how many times you nagged him about those terrible ParchmentMate quills that anyone could buy in bulk. They didn’t give a consistent line, were prone to getting clogged, and were all around cheap garbage! It was about time he got himself something fitting of his position. 

But… Wait, was he…? It was the moment he hummed in thought and picked up a particular brand that you found yourself called to action. 

“Just because Zilot H2 fountain pens are popular doesn’t mean they’re actually good!” You exclaimed, rushing over and plucking the abomination from his fingers. “Even when you’re right-handed, they still tend to smear like crazy! Also, the quality is not consistent throughout the pens, so you can get some that clog constantly!!”

You were quick to plop the pen right back where it belonged on the display. Such a monstrosity would have no place in your boss’ office. No way. It was a good thing Alhaitham was essentially a lazy person who despised putting up with inconveniences because arguing with him was the last thing you wanted to do today. And thankfully, he did not disappoint!

“I see, then which pen would you recommend?” He asked with his fingers against his chin in thought. 

Oooh~ At the sound of that beautiful question, your heart quickened within your chest as a rosy flush found its way to the apples of your cheeks. He’d always wave you away whenever you brought up this subject before (probably because he knew very well you could ramble about the glory of stationery for a good hour), so what changed his mind? Well, who cared what did! You weren’t about to squander this chance he so graciously gave you!

“Well, there are many great fountain pens and quills. Monstadt is Teyvat’s biggest producer of high-quality pens, though Inazuma and Liyue have some notable brands too. I’d recommend…” You hummed as you scanned the display before plucking two that caught your eye. “A KWSBY Eco or a KAMY Safari.”

“And the difference between the two?” He asked as he stepped close to you.

Though the fact that you could feel the warmth he radiated against your arm and his gaze upon your face was distracting, the excitement within your chest overpowered any presence he had. 

“Well, while they both write very well, the Eco holds more ink and, in my opinion, requires less maintenance. It’s more eco-friendly as well because it doesn’t take cartridges. But I’d say the Safari feels better in the hand and requires less pressure, so it’s less straining to write for long periods of time.”

“Then which one would you recommend?”

You tilted your head to the side. That was a good question.

“Well, personally, I would recommend the Eco. While you do write a lot, I think the hassle of replacing cartridges and going out to buy new ones is something you’d find annoying after a while. However, both are rather cheap, so it wouldn’t be much out of your pocket to purchase both to see which one you like more. Then you could use the other as a backup pen, or maybe one to keep at home.”

He hummed. 

“I see. And why were you following me this whole evening?”

Well, that was the easiest question he asked by far!

“Because I heard rumors about you and I wanted to see if they were true!” You exclaimed with a wide smile on your face. 

Wait, that question wasn’t about pens at all… In fact, that was… You paused and realized something for the first time. Alhaitham was looking at you. Like… he knew and was cognizant of the fact that you were standing in front of him. Which meant… 

“You used those pens to lure me out, didn’t you!?” You cried out in betrayal. 

He shrugged.

“It’s not my fault you’re easily baited with stationery.”

You groaned in frustration. He wasn’t wrong about that. Anyone that knew you knew quite well how much you enjoyed talking. Blame it on your Mondstadt blood, but you were too talkative for your own good. Often times you’d surprise people by making conversation in long lines or when their pretty outfits caught your eye. More than that, you loved helping people and giving advice, even when you weren’t exactly needed. Really, it was a smart move on Alhaitham’s part.

“So, what is it this time?” He asked with a cross of his arms and a raised brow. “It’s not the rifthound wolves rumor again, is it?”

You shook your head. 

“Of course not. You know you were there when I checked that one,” You exclaimed with a roll of your eyes. “This rumor is way better than that one. They say that you’re courting someone.” 

He sighed.

“And you believed that?”

You shook your head once more. 

“Well, no. But rumors like that don’t come out of the blue. So I thought there had to be some truth to them. Maybe you’re interested in someone.”

“Oh? And it bothered you enough to follow me after hours?”

You laughed.

“Well yeah. Who wouldn’t want to see the sarcastic and straight-laced Alhaitham getting starry-eyed over a special someone?” You replied with a shrug.

His eyes shut, shaking his head in exasperation.

“And how exactly would my getting ‘starry-eyed’ look?”

“Well obviously–”

Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. You winced. Apparently not eating lunch today was coming back with a vengeance. It seemed that your companion noticed the sound as well as his brow raised while glancing down at you.

“Did you eat yet?”

You coughed.

“No.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Then you can tell me over dinner.”

Your heart jumped as a smile leapt to your lips. 

“Are you paying for dinner too?” You asked, your eyes glittering. 

His eyes narrowed as he placed a hand on his hip.

“If I’m not mistaken, the last time, I was the one that paid.”

You coughed once more.

“Th-That may be true,” you began with a stutter, “But… I’m not the one with the salary of a grand sage. Surely it wouldn’t be too much out of your wallet to pay for your overworked assistant?”

He stared at you, his eyes half-lidded in exasperation shutting them in unwilling acceptance.

“Fine.”

With a joyous fist pump, you rushed to follow him at his side as he began to make his way in the direction of the tavern.

“This is why you’re my favorite boss, Alhaitham!” You exclaimed with a grin causing him to snort.

“If I recall, just yesterday you were calling me the worst for excusing you when you sneezed.”

“That’s because right after, you gave me tips on how to sneeze quieter,” you shot back. “I can’t help the way I sneeze, you know. I was—excuse me—born that way. Besides, nobody in Mondstadt ever–”

Your brow furrowed as yet another person bumped into you. It seemed the true rush hour of Sumeru finally hit as the roads were covered with people. You wanted to roll your eyes. Of course, nobody was walking into Alhaitham. He seemed to have a two-foot forcefield around him. Not that you were surprised. Though you liked him, even you could admit that the vibes he exuded were not the most welcoming. 

But as you kept musing to yourself about Alhaitham and his unkind vibes, the more you found yourself getting pushed and shoved away from him. Thankfully, you knew the direction he was heading, so it wouldn’t be too hard to simply meet him there–

“They’re not going to move unless you make them.”

Your eyes widened as you felt a hand grasp yours. With a gentle tug, you found yourself pulled from the crowd. There Alhaitham stood with a brow up, daring you to argue. You pouted.

“You could’ve done that earlier.”

He shrugged.

“I was waiting to see if you’d do it yourself.”

“Well thanks, I guess,” you replied, rolling your eyes. Still, you squeezed his hand gently because you were, though a bit exasperated, also grateful. 

With him at the forefront to part the crowd, he led you by hand to Lambad’s Tavern. Despite being a busy night, it didn’t take too long for you both to be seated. After being guided to a square table, he took his normal place diagonally to your side instead of across from you. In the back of your mind, you assumed it was so that you were easier to hear, but there wasn’t any point to putting much thought into it than that. With your orders put in and a round of drinks on the table, you took a hearty swig from your glass before leaning back. 

“So here’s what I envision for an Alhaitham in love,” you began, eager to continue your conversation from before. “I…

Hm…

“I um…”

That was a good question. How would a starry-eyed Alhaitham look?

“Well, you see…”

Though you found yourself ready to wax poetic about a normal person in love, when you really thought about it, Alhaitham wasn’t the most normal person around. He didn’t laugh much, let alone smile. He was more mean than he was nice. That wasn’t even mentioning his sheer lack of friends. 

“Can’t think of anything?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m just realizing you wouldn’t act much different,” you began. “I think you would still treat them the same, but you’d always have an eye out for them. You may talk about them from time to time, maybe pay for their meals as well. I can see you wanting to be nearer to them than most people. You’d prefer their company more. Things like that.”

His head cocked to the side in thought.

“That doesn’t sound like I’d be very much in love with them at all.”

You shrugged.

“You don’t need to look in love to be in love, you know. It’s just that you wouldn’t be as obvious about it as most.”

It was then his turn to shrug.

“Really? I think most would say that I’m not capable of love.”

You snorted.

“Oh, come on,” you began with a humored grin. “We both know that’s not true. You’re a human just like anyone else. You’re one of the kindest people I know.”

“I know many people that would disagree with that.”

“And I would disagree with them. You don’t judge people. You see them for who they are. You always tell the truth, even if it may hurt. You don’t like it when people are troubled, so you give them words to help them change. Though you try to avoid company, you don’t hesitate to help the people you care about. You don’t abandon people in their time of need. You’re kind, Alhaitham.”

He took a sip of his drink.

“You make it seem like I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart. I merely don’t like being troubled by other people’s problems,” he replied with a shake of his head.

“Maybe,” you admitted with a shrug before giving him a knowing look. “But if you really hated it all that much, I think you would’ve gotten rid of some people in your life a long time ago.”

He turned away.

“I think you’re looking far too into it.”

“And I think you just feel exposed for being a softie,” you shot back with a laugh.

He didn’t speak after that, not that he needed to. You knew he knew there was no point in trying to argue. This was something you brought up multiple times in the past, much to his dismay. As much as he tried to ignore it, you saw him for how he really was. Which was why… 

You sighed.

“Do you really like someone though? Are the rumors true?” You asked nervously. 

“Was it that important to you that you had to follow me to find out if it was?” He questioned.

You shrugged. 

“Well, I mean I did want to see you get all starry-eyed, but… the thought of you having someone so important to you in your life and me not noticing a single thing bothered me. I mean you’re the person I spend the most time with. Can I even be called your friend if I didn’t notice something so big?” You asked, a bit dejected.

“Is that the only reason?”

When you frowned in confusion, he continued.

“You say it’s because you’re my friend. Are you sure it’s not for any reason more than that?”

As he spoke, his gaze did not waver from you. It was as if his eyes were piercing you through. It seemed as if he was searching for something, but what? Was there truly a reason more than that? You weren’t so sure. 

Before you could respond, your plates were set before you, prompting your stomach to let out another long and loud grumble. You flushed. Of course, your stomach had to interrupt such a serious moment. 

He sighed.

“Let’s eat.”

Really, you truly did mean to play around with his words in your head as you ate, but the moment the food touched your tongue, any and all thoughts were out the window. Lambad’s Shawarma Wraps were always top-notch. The flatbread was soft and warm and the sauce was tangy and fresh. Despite living here for the past few years, you still weren’t quite used to eating with your hands, but such problems never detracted from the taste. 

When you were almost done, you turned your gaze to your companion with stars in your eyes. 

“Do you want to share an Ajilenakh Cake with me?”

Though you knew he wasn’t one for sweet food, you didn’t know anyone who could resist the sweet nuttiness of Ajilenakh Cakes. They were warm and soft and the jam complimented the flavors wonderfully. 

“Sure,” he agreed with a shrug. 

And with an excited grin, you put in the order and went back to your food. In the back of your mind, you remembered the time Alhaitham mentioned he preferred meals with you. When you asked if it was because he enjoyed your company, he said that you were always so focused on eating that you barely had any time to speak. You hated how you always proved him true because once the dessert was placed before you, again any thoughts you had of continuing the conversation quickly came and left.

As you ate you mused it probably would be a good idea to go on a diet after this. Alhaitham barely had a fourth of the Ajilenakh Cakes, not that you were surprised. He wasn’t exactly one for sweets. But that meant you ate the rest, and with all the Shawarma Wraps you’ve been eating as well… it did not bode well for your waistline. 

“I don’t think it means anything. Me being bothered, I mean,” you finally announced as you wiped your lips clean. “I think any normal person would want to know what’s going on with one of their friends, you know? Besides, you say that me being bothered could mean something more. What more could it mean?”

He shrugged.

“It could mean that you’re interested in me and worried that I may have found someone else.”

You leaned back as you crossed your arms in thought. Well, when he put it like that, it certainly was a possibility. Perhaps you were afraid of being replaced by someone else. You enjoyed being at his side, after all. But that being said, being interested in him? It didn’t seem very likely.

“No, I don’t think so,” you replied. “I’ve never really thought of you in that way before.”

He sighed.

“Then that’s a shame.” When you asked why, he continued, “Because the rumors are true. The person I’m interested in, the person everyone is gossiping about, is you.”

“And that’s what happened,” you finished as you sipped your wine. “Can you believe it? The source of the rumors, the one everyone was talking about, was me!”

“W-Wait. He literally told you that? He just went out with it!?” Kaveh exclaimed in disbelief. 

As Kaveh sat across from you, you wanted to laugh at the sheer look of confusion upon his face. He was utterly dumbfounded. Not that you could blame him. It was a rather crazy story, after all.

You nodded.

“Yep! I mean looking back, all of the signs were there. We spend a lot of time together for work, he likes sitting next to me at restaurants, sometimes he pays for me… He even holds my hand from time to time when the roads are packed! I don’t know how it took him explaining it to me to finally realize the truth!” 

And really, it was embarrassing on your part. Growing up, you’d love to while away the hours in the Knights of Favonius’ library reading mystery novels. Nothing was more exhilarating than getting the culprit correct. So really, this was something you should have figured out from the very start. But nevertheless, being given the answer to this mystery didn’t make the outcome any less exciting. It made you wonder if you should investigate more Akademiya rumors in your free time. It certainly would be fun.

However, a quick glance at Kaveh showed he wasn’t exactly sharing your thoughts. Instead, his face still held that same dumbfounded look from before, if not a bit more intense. 

“So what did you do? What did you say? Alhaitham didn’t seem any different when he came home! Oh Gods, and to think I scolded him that evening for leaving his books out! I really must’ve sounded like a jerk!!”

You frowned in thought. Was there something lost in the communication here? You didn’t see anything worth panicking over. 

“Well, after he told me that, I tried to argue with him, actually. Honestly, can you imagine me being the answer? That’s way too easy. But then he explained everything to me and eventually it made sense. After that, he paid for dinner and then we went home.”

His jaw dropped this time. 

“That’s it!? You went home?? After all that???”

You tilted your head to the right. 

“What do you mean? The mystery was solved. What more did we need to do?”

He dropped his head into his hands and pulled at his hair before them on the table.

“What do you mean!? Alhaitham confessed his feelings to you. And you just nodded and went home!? I can’t believe you’re making me feel bad for him! You really don’t think anything about it?”

Your head tilted this time to the left. Kaveh groaned.

“He likes you. Don’t you feel anything about that?”

Feel anything about him liking you? Him… liking you. He… liked you. 

Oh.

First your eyes widened, then your hands dropped to your lap, and then, with the fury of a thousand suns, you felt your face burn up. 

“I’m happy… I think?”