#but as I thought about it I couldn't pass it up

[servicpop]

family trip adrien ( deliquent oc ) x bttm m reader

ⓘ established relationship au

Through the excessive amount of visiting each other's houses almost everyday of the week, it was only natural that your families would grow close.

It wasn't a surprise when you received a pretty little invitation by Adrien to come join him and his family on a small trip to the coast. Since you had nothing better to do that weekend, you gladly accepted. Adrien brought up his family's van and offered you a ride in which you also agreed.

You never thought to ask Adrien about his family, assuming it was a topic he didn't particularly like as he never talked about them anyways. So seeing two little girls and a young boy that were the splitting image of Adrien if not his parents. They were a rather rowdy bunch as Adrien's mother rounded up the little troublemakers into the 2nd row of the van while her husband was busy packing things into the trunk.

“Why didn't you tell me you had siblings? And so many,” You question, turning to Adrien who seemed to be on his last straw trying to get his siblings to calm down.

“Didn't think I seemed like an only child,” he quipped.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes when Adrien's mother walks up to you. She's gorgeous, straight nut brown hair, short and slim like a doe. It's strikingly different from Adrien's rough appearance.

“Oh dear, it seems like there's only one chair left,” Mrs Castillo's voice is like a hydrating balm to the soul as she places a hand on her cheek.

You open your mouth to propose a solution — as the responsible person you are — but you're acutely cut off by prince charming himself.

“He can sit on my lap, no problem.” You can see the relieved expression Adrien's mother carries before she walks off into the passenger's side of the van, leaving you absolutely speechless.

“Since when did I agree to that?” You sigh, but it's ultimately the only solution you can think of on the spot.

Adrien slips into the back seat first, getting himself comfortable before patting his thighs. There's a sour expression on your face as you climb in, settling yourself on Adrien's lap. He slips on the seatbelt from behind you and slides his arms around your waist, holding you close.

“Don't worry, I'll be your seatbelt.”

“I wasn't worrying.”

The ride was anything but smooth. You were profoundly aware of every single movement Adrien made underneath you, the soft thumping of his heart rattled against his chest every time you leaned back to rest.

Not to mention his demon-like siblings turning around to ask you bizarre questions.

“Did Adrien kidnap you?” “Do you think you can do a cartwheel and then the splits because I can.” “How much money did he pay you to be here?”

You couldn't even answer one question before another was interjected. Even Adrien seemed annoyed by this constant noise.

“Stop bothering him,” His tone caught you off-guard; it was harsh and grounded like he truly meant it. It didn't seem like the kids understood the message until Adrien swatted at them to turn around.

He sighed, leaning back into the car seat, pulling you down with him.

“They can be a damn handful sometimes,” He exhaled, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder.

The soft gesture, the heat radiating off his face to your shoulder, and his forearms locked tightly around your waist made something in your heart ache ever so slightly. Your fingers hesitantly move to rest on Adrien's arm, patting it gently like you're consoling him.

A few more hours pass by and the kids have already fallen asleep, not a sign of liveliness from the three. Your own eyelids start to grow heavy until the van drives over a rather large speed bump. From the scratchy sound of tires crunching along gravel, you can pretty much assume that the road is going to be filled with dents and bumps.

A barely audible groan comes out from Adrien's throat and you freeze up. Did you hurt him? Your movements are cautious as you turn your torso to look back at him, trying not to move so much so you don't hurt him further.

“Shit, are you okay?” Your eyes narrow and your nose crinkles in concern, Adrien has his head lowered before he lifts it up to meet your gaze.

The hands planted firmly around your body tighten and he pulls you back up against him.

“Just— Stay still,” he grunts out, forehead returning back to your shoulder.

You shuffle just back to get comfortable just enough that you practically grind against the tent growing in Adrien's pants. It takes you a moment to realize what was happening. A small gasp escapes your lips as you grip the flesh on his arm, keeping your head dipped.

The van drives over another bump and you feel it now. Adrien's hand clasps around your shoulder blade and he muffles a strangled grunt again. Your body grows hotter by the second, heat pooling in your lower half.

Now you were both hard.

“Ah shit, prez, you're gonna kill me,” He lets out a dry chuckle, hips twitching from underneath you. You crave it just as bad as you're rocking your body against his in a steady pace. There were too many people in the van, it was way too dangerous to fix the little problem.

“Wait it out,” You whisper, patting his arm once more like trying to calm down a dog.

He doesn't respond, instead, he grumbles into your shoulder.

The van finally comes to a stop. The engine whirrs off and the kids are hustled out of the doors before you and Adrien climb out behind them. There's a satisfying crackle and pop of your joints as you stretch, letting the good ol' sunlight kiss your deprived skin.

Getting the bags out of the trunk wasn't much work since you packed only for 3 days so you rolled your suitcase into the lobby alongside Adrien's family. A small notification pops up on your screen, a check-in from your family which you happily reply to.

Since it was such a large gathering, the family had split into different rooms with you and Adrien sharing one.

The reception hands Adrien's mother the keycard to each room and she hands them out, passing one to Adrien.

You turn your attention to him to see the guy already racing his way towards you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you past his family. You can hear a brief exchange of words between him and his dad, picking up on the lousy excuse that you're 'tired.'

Through the lobby, past the pools, around the bar and to your shared room. Adrien smashes the key card against the reader and he slams the door open.

“Fucking finally,” he sighs, shutting the door behind himself and burying his hands into the back of your head. He's tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling it back before latching his mouth onto yours.

He's practically welding himself to you, devouring your lips in a heated kiss. He pulls back to look into your eyes before he goes in for a second serving. Adrien guides you towards the bedroom, lips never leaving yours as he gently pushes you back onto the bed.

“You know how hard it was to keep myself in line?” Adrien chuckled against your cheek, his hands beginning to descend your body, tracing all the way down to the waistband of your pants.

“That's your job baby, not mine.”

You have half the heart to complain when he's pulling off your pants, lifting your hips off the bed to help him slide your clothes off. He pulls both your legs up and over his shoulders before kneeling onto the ground beside the bed.

“Adrien,” you call out his name almost breathlessly, fingers finding purchase in his thick hair.

He responds with a small hum that causes his throat to vibrate ever so slightly. Adrien's hands are coiled around your thighs, palms laying flat on your lower stomach as he leans in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips tickle your skin and you can't help but jerk your leg from the sensation—which you're prevented from doing so by his arms holding your legs hostage.

Warmth envelops your lower half as Adrien wraps his mouth around your cock. His breath is hot against your trembling skin and he forces the most obscene noises out his throat. Slick slurping sounds mixed with groans and sighs like he's been starved a hearty meal.

The hand on your stomach slides up, pushing your shirt further so he could feel the flat plane of your torso. Your squirms and thigh twitches are held down by his built arms—it honestly seems like he trains just for this.

“Could do this for days.” its hard to tell what he's saying since all his words and muffled and gurgled.

He pulls off for one second to fish out lubricant from the hotel drawers, applying a hefty amount to his fingers before returning back to you.

Sliding back down to his knees, he prods a finger to your winking hole, teasing and pushing past that ring of muscle and pulling it back out just to watch it shiver from the loss.

“Pervert,” You grumble under your breath.

“Who's the one who asked me out?”

You shoot Adrien an irked glare but the annoyance fades from your face the moment he wraps his mouth around your dick once more. Your eyes flutter as he finally pushes that finger in, sliding in a second to slowly scissor you loose.

He's more skilled than you with his tongue and you can't help but wonder what his past experiences were like; you dismiss that thought as quick as it came.

You look down at him from half-closed eyes, watching as he hollows his cheeks to take in more. You're practically whining and thrashing around in his grip. He's buried his face to the hilt, nose brushing against your pelvic bone. Its almost a ticklish sensation, feeling him breathe against your skin.

His fingers press and pressure your walls, pushing them apart to ready you for his cock. He's rhythmically pushing his fingers deeper, curling at the apex before pulling them back, repeating that process in a steady pace. You can feel them hit your prostate, sending jolts straight to your dick.

It's too much for you to handle; your hips are rising to meet the bob of his head, back arching off the satin white sheets.

“Wait— Adrien pull off I don't want you to—” Your words are all diced up, spoken in short gasps as you try to pry his head off from your aching cock.

You succeed—for a bit—before he's dipping all the way down again, holding your hips steady as he forces you down his throat. He's fucking loving it too, moaning with your dick in his mouth as his fingers speed up, pistioning two fingers into your hole.

Your hips raise even more and he encourages it.

His name comes spilling out of your mouth like a mantra as your muscles spasm from the intensity of your orgasm. Adrien keeps sucking like he's trying to wring every last drop from you. You feel his tongue swirl over your slit, lapping up your sweet fluids.

He slides himself off of you, letting you rest on the bed for a bit as he tilts his head back. His Adam's apple bobs while he swallows, and he lowers his head back down to smile at you.

“Don't tell me you're tired already, I haven't even taken off my pants yet,” he tsks at you, shaking his head disapprovingly while he joins you on the bed. You're still dazed from how hard you just came but a warm hand pulls you back down to earth.

Adrien's hand grazes over your cheek delicately as he hovers over you, caging you in with two arms on either side of your head.

“Just relax prez, I'll do all the work, 'kay?” He takes your little grunt as an 'okay,' rolling you onto your stomach and guiding your head to rest on the pillow. It smells so distinctly of freshly cleaned hotel sheets with a hint of citrus and bleach that you take a moment to close your eyes and enjoy the scent.

You can feel the mattress dip on either sides of your hips as he plants his knees there. He leans his head down to peek at your blissed-out face, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. You can feel his hands run down the curve of your spine, running over your lower back before he settles them on your waist.

“Are you relaxed?” He hums, leisurely rolling his hips against you. His tone is so sultry it causes your muscles to visibly relax under the siren call of his voice.

A hand moves down to where your leg meets the curve of your ass, parting the round flesh for him to comfortably slide in. He had stretched you out enough that it slipped in with ease, hugged by your warm velvet walls.

He sucks in air between his teeth while he steadily rocks his body back and forth, tuning into the wet squelching sound with each thrust.

“Feel it yet?” He chuckles, poking fun at the fact that you've been too dazed to respond to him. You nod against the pillow, your hair spilling over the silk case like spilt water. A small, shaky exhale leaves your nose as he begins to hasten his thrusts. It's almost bruising as he slams himself against your tailbone—you know you'll be whining about the soreness tomorrow morning.

Your voice gradually gets louder as he pounds you into the bed, fingers curled up in the sheets as he slams his pelvis against your ass. You can feel him throb from inside you, twitching and ready.

A particularly deep thrust has you crying out into the pillow but you can't squirm, not when Adrien is pinning you down with his body weight. He's pushing against your prostate over and over again and you can feel that familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you.

“Fuck, Adrien,” You hiccup, muffled by the fluff of the pillow, eyes flickering like you're struggling to keep them open.

“Yeah baby?” You can hear the smirk in his tone as he keeps at the rough pace. He's hitting all the right spots and your dick appreciates. You feel a hand dip under your neck, cupping the curve of your throat as Adrien lifts your head up to face him.

He moves in to kiss you, soft and gentle as he wraps his arms around your whole body, holding you in a tight grip while continuously slamming himself deeper into you. Your loud cries and moans are enveloped by Adrien's mouth, swallowed up.

“You gonna cum? Feels so good you just can't hold it in?” He cooes, chuckling against your swollen lips as he feels you tremble underneath him. You swear stars enter your vision and your eyes roll back, muscles jerking and tensing as you let out a string of whimpers while your orgasm comes crashing onto you.

Adrien buries himself to the hilt before emptying out all he's worth, coating your insides with his dna. He groans as he pulls out halfway just to watch his semen flood out of your hole, still tightly clenched around his cock.

He sits up, raking his fingers through his tousled hair and sighs with satisfaction like drinking an ice cold soda in a hot summer day.

“You tired prez?” He asks, smiling down at you. His eyes narrow and concern settles in when you don't move or answer him.

“Baby?” He quickly leans back down to look at your face only to see your peaceful expression, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. He lets out a relieved chuckle before pulling out, sliding off the bed to grab a towel.

He figured he'd get you some fruit to replenish your energy, pulling on some of his clothes after cleaning you up and getting you comfortable in the bed. He makes his way to the buffet, piling all favorite fruits and sweets onto his plate before he spots his family.

“Where's your boyfriend?” Adrien's mother asks, also holding a plate of food. Seemed like the two of you missed lunch.

“He's uh—” Adrien tenses knowing that he can't just openly admit to his mother that he fucked the daylights out of you.

“Taking a nap.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Ferrari's Golden Boy and his Girl || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: ur first appearance in the paddock with Rafe :)

Warnings: noneee

Word count: 1,936

A/n: if you couldn't tell by my pfp of Alexandra, i love her and she's who i imagine when i write these f1 fics but of course its up to you!!!!

MASTERLIST (f1 driver x fem!reader au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The world of Formula 1 was glamorous but intimidating, and you felt the weight of a thousand eyes on you. Speculations about your relationship with Rafe, Ferrari's Golden Boy, had been swirling for months, growing louder with every blurred paparazzi photo and cryptic comment he let slip in interviews.

Coming from Rafe’s hometown in the Outer Banks, you weren’t accustomed to attention from the public eye and a sea of flashing camera. Paparazzi had caught glimpses of you together over the past few months—dinners at intimate restaurants, quiet walks along the beach, stolen kisses on his yacht—but this was different.

This was your official debut as his girlfriend, stepping into the spotlight for the first time. Your heart raced, not from the adrenaline of the sport but from the nerve-wracking reality of being here, surrounded by people who lived and breathed Formula 1. You’d spent countless nights scrolling through social media, seeing how some fans could be—relentless in their opinions, cutting down a driver’s girlfriend simply because they didn’t like her.

It was tough sometimes, imagining yourself on the receiving end of that scrutiny. Would they think you were good enough for Rafe? Would they nitpick your every move, your every word, just to find flaws? The thought had kept you awake the night before, despite Rafe’s reassurances.

Rafe, walking beside you, was as confident as ever, exuding the easy charisma that had made him both a star on the track and off. His hand rested at the small of your back, guiding you through the chaos, even outside the paddock gates, with practised ease. Your hands were slightly shaky as you scanned your paddock pass, “You good?” he asked, leaning down so only you could hear.

His voice was low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy around you. You glanced up at him. “I think so,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the noise. “Don’t think,” he said, his tone teasing but affectionate. “Just walk in there like you own the place. Because, baby, you kind of do.” He adds, kissing the side of your head.

You couldn’t help but laugh, though the nerves didn’t completely fade. Rafe had an unmatched ability to make you feel like you belonged, even when you doubted yourself. You smooth out your red dress—one he had personally insisted you wear. "You'll match the car," he'd teased, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "And I'll look like the luckiest guy in the paddock."

As you walked past the throngs of fans lined against the barriers, the buzz grew louder. Their cheers grew louder, a cacophony of voices calling out Rafe’s name—and, to your surprise, your own. Phones were raised, the flashes of cameras capturing every moment. Your heart raced, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through you.

"See, they like you already," Austin, Rafe's personal trainer teased gently. His tone was lighthearted, a deliberate attempt to ease your obvious unease. He nudged your arm, grinning as you chuckled softly, trying to shake off the nerves that clung to you. Rafe, ever composed and effortlessly charming, raised his hand in a casual wave to the crowd.

You followed his lead, offering a small, tentative wave and a smile that you hoped looked more confident than you felt. Rafe checked his watch before glancing at the crowd again. “We’ve got time, don’t we?” he asked Austin, though it was more rhetorical than a genuine inquiry. Without waiting for a response, he veered toward a particularly animated group of fans near the front of the barrier.

You stayed back with Austin, watching as Rafe transitioned seamlessly into fan mode. He moved with ease, signing caps, shirts, and posters, pausing for selfies, and exchanging quick banter with his supporters. Your gaze softened as you observed him, pride swelling in your chest. He looked so at home in this chaotic environment, his bright smile and relaxed demeanor making him seem untouchable yet entirely approachable.

Then, as if he could feel your eyes on him, Rafe turned his head to look at you. A mischievous smile danced on his lips as he said something, his words lost in the roar of the crowd. “What’s he saying?” you asked Austin, tilting your head in confusion. Rafe then blew you a kiss with an exaggerated flair, his grin widening when he saw the shy smile it drew from you.

“Rafe, is that your girlfriend over there?” a girl asked as he scribbled his autograph on his photo. Her tone was curious but warm, not laced with the venom you’d feared. Rafe glanced back at you, his smile softening into something almost tender. “Yeah,” he said proudly, not missing a beat. “That’s her. She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” The fans erupted into cheers, their excitement palpable as they turned their attention to you.

You froze for a moment, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, but Rafe’s unwavering confidence in you gave you the courage to offer another small wave. “I hope you guys love her as much as I do,” Rafe added, his tone light but sincere. After a few more photos and quick goodbyes, Rafe made his way back to you, his stride confident and purposeful. As soon as he reached you, his arm slipped naturally around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

“What were you saying back there?” you asked, looking up at him with curiosity. Rafe didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering just enough to make your heart flutter. “Just telling them how gorgeous you are,” he replied casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks warm as you let out a soft, embarrassed giggle.

Rafe chuckled, clearly pleased with your reaction, and squeezed your shoulder. The paddock was a whirlwind of activity. Team members darted around, engineers shouted commands, and reporters lingered, waiting for their chance to snag an interview. Rafe navigated it effortlessly, introducing you to key people as you clung to his side, trying to take it all in.

As he prepared to leave for his pre-race routine, he turned to you, the confident façade slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his vulnerability. “You’re gonna be okay?” he asked quietly, his fingers lingering at your side. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I’ll be fine, I'll hang out with Sofia," You say, glancing back at Sofia who was Rafe's teammate's girlfriend.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered just long enough to make your cheeks flush. “Good. Because you belong here with me, whether you believe it yet or not.” As he walked away, you felt the cameras capturing the moment, and for the first time, you didn’t feel out of place. You felt proud. Proud to be by his side, no matter how intimidating the spotlight might be.

~

"Rafe Cameron wins the Spanish Grand Prix, and it is a 1-2 finish for the Scuderia Ferrari!" The commentator's jubilant voice rang through your headphones, the words igniting an explosion of joy in the Ferrari garage. The moment the announcement registered, you and Sofia turned to each other, your faces lighting up with pure elation.

Without thinking, you both started squealing, your voices blending into the symphony of celebration around you. You grabbed her hands, jumping up and down like giddy schoolgirls, the weight of nerves and anticipation finally melting away. “They did it!” Sofia shouted, her wide grin matching yours as you both clung to each other, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the victory.

The rest of the Ferrari garage erupted into cheers, a sea of red erupting with applause, hugs, and celebratory fist pumps. Engineers and crew members were already spilling out onto the pitlane, sprinting toward the podium to catch a glimpse of their drivers and bask in the glory of the victory. You could barely hear yourself think over the noise, but it didn’t matter.

The joy was infectious, and you found yourself swept up in the chaos, laughing and cheering along with everyone else. Sofia nudged you with her elbow, her face flushed with excitement. “We’ve gotta get to the podium!” You didn’t need to be told twice. Linking arms with her, you followed the stream of Ferrari personnel down the pitlane. Your heart pounded in your chest—not from nerves this time, but from pride and exhilaration.

As you reached the podium area, the roar of the crowd hit you like a wave. Thousands of fans filled the grandstands, waving Ferrari flags and chanting Rafe’s name. The energy was electric, the entire circuit seemingly united in celebration. The team’s staff ushered you and Sofia forward, guiding you both to the front row, just behind the barriers, giving you the perfect view. And then you saw him, climbing out of his car with a triumphant smile that lit up his entire face.

He threw his arms up in victory, basking in the adoration of the crowd. Your heart raced as Rafe's eyes locked onto yours in the midst of the roaring crowd. His grin widened, that familiar spark of mischief in his gaze, and he pointed directly at you. It felt like the world slowed for just a moment—just you and him, amidst the chaos.

The cameras snapped furiously, capturing the fleeting connection between you both, and a wave of pride surged through you. Without thinking, you blew him a kiss, your smile so wide it felt like your cheeks might burst from the effort. His response was immediate. With a joyful laugh and a skip in his step, Rafe jumped down from his car, making his way toward you as if nothing else in the world mattered.

As he reached you, he pulled you into a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet for a moment, as the crowd's cheers grew louder around you. The cameras followed you both closely, documenting the raw, unfiltered joy of the moment. "You did it, baby!" you exclaimed, your voice muffled slightly by the noise around you, but the sentiment was clear.

Rafe held you close, his arms strong around your back, his helmet still on, the sweaty material of his racing suit rubbing against your skin. He laughed, a deep, satisfied sound that resonated with the energy of the victory. "Couldn’t have done it without you," he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion. Then, with a playful grin, he lifted his visor, revealing the intensity of his eyes beneath.

You leaned up and placed a quick, soft kiss on his helmet, the action gentle and affectionate. The cameras caught the moment, and you could hear the claps and whistles of Rafe's teammates in the background. You pulled away, giggling shyly, feeling the heat rush to your face as the attention turned to you.

Rafe chuckled and pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around your waist as his team started to gather around, congratulating him, giving high-fives, and sharing the celebratory moment with the driver of the day. But even as they swarmed him, Rafe never let go of you, his hand resting possessively on your back as he basked in his well-earned victory.

[chericos]

men who are so sentimental and sappy it's PAINFUL

You’d always dreamed of your wedding—the venue, the bouquet, and, of course, your first dance.

you grew up watching your parents fall deeper in love with each passing year. spent days watching back through old family CDs of their wedding. of their first dance.

the video was practically worn out from the countless times you’d replayed it, watching their first dance over and over. you've practically ingrained it in your brain. every step, spin, dip, rhythm, the look of pure unbridled unadulterated love, that they shared between them. it was burned into your memory.

and naturally, you imagined yourself in their place. your arms wrapped around the person you'd spend the rest of your life with. your love. so when you met him. the man you couldn't envision a life without, you mentioned it. only once, in passing. and you never brought it up or thought about it again further down the line with planning.

so imagine the shock on your face, the venue packed with friends and family when the first notes of their song began to play.

he took your hand, his grip steady and warm, guiding you into the first step. for a moment, you hesitated, the familiarity of it overwhelming. but then he smiled, that soft, knowing smile that told you everything without a single word, and you let him lead.

the steps were the same. every turn, each twirl, the way he dipped you so perfectly, as though he’d practiced it for months (spoiler: he did). and you realized, as the music played on, this wasn’t just a dance—it was the dance.

when the song ended, you stood still, holding onto him tightly. “you’re unbelievable,” you said, your voice shaky.

“no,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I just love you.”

LEVI, ARMIN, NANAMI, SUGURU, CHOSO, AIZAWA, SHOTO, IZUKU, VANDER, JOUNO, KUNIKIDA, CHŪYA, NOÉ, KYŌJURŌ, ROY, AKI, AKAASHI, SUGAWARA, + your faves

@ CHERICOS 2024 all rights reserved do not repost, edit, copy, translate or plagiarise my works

[genericaestheticist]

I dream about being unable to process time.

I had one where I was taking a shower, and everyone thought I had just gone to bed, so I stayed in there until my family found me the next morning, the skin of my whole body was nearly dissolved.

Another one where I was walking behind my friends and every time I blinked they had gotten further ahead of me and I couldn't catch up because time kept skipping.

And one where my mom picked me up from the hospital and she kept covering the clock in the car, and when I asked her what the time was she wouldn't answer me. And then I finally got a look at the dashboard, and I noticed the date and realized three days had passed that I had no memory of.

everyone has dreams about being lost at school, late to work, cant find bathroom etc but whats yalls most common Uncommon stress dream. ill always have dreams about having various problems with my fish tank

[v6quewrlds]

LOVE TALK, JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x wife!reader. word count⠀⁎⠀1.9k.

summary⠀⁎⠀with your toddler off with the cousins at her grandparents' house, it's a quiet night in the burrow household. you take advantage of the quiet to spend some one-on-one time soaking in your warm tub.

author's note⠀⁎⠀requested by an anon, i hope you like it bae <3 changed up the layout a little bit, we'll see if i stick to it lmao warnings⠀⁎⠀suggestive at worst. hubby!joe, dad!joe, frosted tips!joe, warnings about joe being a softie in general.

"Thank you, baby. That feels so good," you moaned, your eyes drifting closed as Joe's strong hands gently kneaded your tense shoulder muscles. You leaned back into him, feeling the warmth of the water and his body enveloping you. His touch was magic, easing the constant ache that seemed to follow you around lately.

"You're welcome," Joe murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated through you. He kissed the top of your head, his breath tickling your scalp. "How's that?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Perfect."

The conversation lulled for a moment, the only sound the soft splashing of the water. Joe's fingers danced over your skin, tracing the curve of your stomach down to your thighs before returning to massage the tension out of your neck. You felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, the stress of the week dissipating into the steamy air.

"So, have you thought more about the birth plan?" Joe asked, his voice careful, as if tiptoeing around a minefield. You two have had this conversation before, but you had never really put a bow on the details.

You exhaled deeply, your body sinking deeper into his warmth. "You know me, I'm flexible. But I do want an epidural this time. I was a champ with Amara, but I don't need to prove my strength twice."

Joe's grip tightened around your shoulders in an anxious squeeze. "Well, that's my only concern. No more natural births for you. I don't want to see you in that much pain again."

You leaned your head back, peering at him with a smirk. "Were you worried? You were about 10 seconds away from passing out when Amara was born."

Joe rolled his eyes, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. "I was not! I'm just saying, if modern medicine has a solution to that kind of pain, I want you to take it."

You chuckled, the sound echoing off the tiles. "Alright, alright. Point taken." You paused, brushing your fingers against your bump. "But other than that, let's just keep it low-key. Just you, me, and the midwife. I love our moms but I don't need an audience this time around."

Joe nodded, his eyes flickering with relief. "Deal. Just as long as you're comfortable." His thumbs dug into the knots in your shoulders, and you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh. "We're still doing a water birth at home? I have the pool in our Amazon cart but haven't pulled the trigger yet."

"Yes, Joe. At home, with the pool," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. "I feel like you're more excited about the water birth than I am."

"What? It's just... I don't know. It seems like a cool experience," Joe replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but failing miserably.

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound rich and warm in the stillness of your bathroom sanctuary. "Cool? Having a baby is cool?"

Joe shrugged, his hands pausing in their ministrations. "Well, it's not like we're throwing a party, but it's definitely an experience. And I'd rather you be comfortable than anything else."

Your eyes popped open as a sudden jolt of movement from within your belly made you jump. "Whoa, baby girl's definitely got her daddy's athleticism," you said, placing a hand over the spot where you had felt the kick.

Joe leaned forward to peer at your stomach, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Was that a kick?" His hand hovered over your belly, waiting for another sign of life.

"Yeah," you said, your eyes shining with affection. "Keep talking, she's a fan of your voice."

Joe grinned, leaning in closer so his cheek was against yours. "Hey, angel," he whispered, his voice tender and filled with wonder. "You're gonna be here so soon, and we can't wait to see you. You have the best big sister in the whole world, she's so excited to play with you." You felt the baby give another kick, and Joe's smile grew even wider as his hand finally felt your little baby Burrow's response.

"My boobs are killing me," you said with a grimace, breaking the momentary silence. The baby's kicks had subsided, but the pressure in your breasts remained. Joe laughed wholeheartedly, his hands moving from your shoulders to cup your breasts gently.

"You're telling me," he teased, his thumbs circling your soft nipples. "They're like two basketballs about to pop." You shot him a glare, but the sensation felt heavenly. You leaned into his touch, letting out a contented sigh.

"Asshole. You did this to me, remember?" you murmured, your voice thick with both pleasure and frustration.

"What can I say? I missed seeing them all heavy like this," Joe said, his voice a playful purr in your ear. He pinched them gently, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers. You couldn't help but let out a low whine, the sensation shooting straight to your core. "But seriously, baby, you're so sexy right now." He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Sexy but swollen," you corrected, though you couldn't help but feel a flutter of pride at his compliment. You reached up to stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling the two-day-old stubble against your palm. "How do you feel about doing something with Amara before the due date? I read that it's good to spend some one-on-one time with the older sibling before the new baby arrives."

Joe nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, your mom mentioned that to me, too. Maybe we could take her to the zoo closer to the date?" He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You considered it. "That's a good idea. She loves animals." You leaned into his touch, enjoying the way his fingers danced over your swollen breasts. The intimacy of the moment made you feel cherished, despite the weight of your pregnancy.

"It's not like she'll remember the zoo trip in a few years," Joe pointed out, his voice a whisper against your skin. "But she'll remember the attention she got from us before her world gets flipped upside down."

"True," you said, your breath hitching as Joe's touch grew more insistent. "Do you think she fully understands what's happening?"

"Probably not," Joe replied, his breath hot against your ear. "But she'll get it when she sees her little sister for the first time." His hands slid down to your bump, his palms cupping the underside of your belly. He gently lifted the bump up, shifting the weight of your baby girl from your spine for just a brief moment. You sighed in relief as your head fell back against Joe's shoulder again.

"I hope she's as excited as we are," you murmured, your hand joining his on your stomach. You watched in awe as your daughter began to kick in response to your touch. "Look at her go."

Joe's eyes never left the sight of your baby moving beneath your skin. "I can't believe we made this happen," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "Two little miracles."

Your hand squeezed his. "We make a good team," you said softly, your gaze meeting his. Joe's eyes met yours, finding the love and certainty that had carried you two through so much already.

"Of course we do, babe," he agreed, his voice soft with emotion. "And we're gonna rock this whole two kids thing, just like we do everything else."

You felt a sudden surge of love for him, your heart swelling in your chest. You turned your head fully, your lips finding his in a soft, lingering kiss. "Thank you for this weekend, Joey. I really needed it."

He reciprocated the kiss eagerly, his eyes smiling when you pulled away. "Anything for you, babe." His hands drifted down to your thighs, his touch light and exploratory. "With how this season is going, these moments with you are the only thing keeping me sane. If you need anything else, just let me know."

You couldn't argue with him. You felt like a new woman, the tension of the disappointing season and the weight of your pregnancy anxiety both lifted away in the blissful weekend. "Mm, I definitely needed this more than I thought," you admitted, a shy smile curving your lips.

Joe's grin widened, and he leaned in to kiss you, his hands still resting lightly on top of your thighs. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm gonna take you to bed and make sure you sleep for the rest of the night."

Your eyes widened, and you turned to look at him over your shoulder. "Now, that's a plan I can get behind," you said, your voice a purr.

Joe stood, water sluicing off his muscular form, and offered you a hand. You took it, letting him help you out of the tub, the water running off your curves like a waterfall. He wrapped a towel around you, his eyes raking over your body with a softness that had only grown since you had conceived your first child.

"Alright, let's go," Joe said, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering candles on the nightstand. He gently laid you down on the soft, plush bed and began to dry you off with the towel, his touch lingering on your damp skin.

You watched him, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the warm towel. "You're too good to me," you murmured, your voice sleepy with satisfaction.

Joe kissed the top of your head, his eyes glittering with love. "Not nearly enough, babe," he said, his voice soft. He finished drying you off, his touch lingering on your swollen belly as he worked your lotion into your skin. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Your heart swelled with love, and you reached out to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Joe leaned down to kiss your stomach, his lips pressing softly against the firm mound of your growing baby. You felt the baby kick in response and you couldn't help but laugh. "I think you're already her favorite," you said, watching Joe with a warmth in your eyes.

He grinned up at you, his own eyes alight with love and excitement. "Well, I've got to start early. Can't have you stealing all the love, now can I?"

You chuckled, your hand sliding over your belly to rest on top of Joe's. "You're going to spoil the two of them rotten, I just know it."

Joe looked up at you, his smile turning mischievous. "Is that a challenge?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was full. "No, it's a fact," you said, your voice filled with affection. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Joe leaned over you, his hands framing your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kissed you deeply. The kiss was slow and gentle, a promise of the passion you would share again once your baby girl was born. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the warmth of the water still clinging to your bodies.

As the two of you broke apart, Joe whispered, "I can't wait to see your beautiful face when you hold her for the first time." Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Me too," you said, your voice soft with emotion.

[eu-nicola]

star girl

summary: you were always in love with JJ and when he finally noticed you, someone had to appear to make him take his attention off of you.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 5403

author’s note: english is not my first language, unfortunately I don't know what's going on and i can't tag anyone.

The first time you realized you had a crush on JJ Maybank, you were nine years old. It was a hot afternoon on the Outer Banks, and everyone was at the beach. John B and the other boys were competing to see who could run the fastest to the pier. You, as always, were sitting on the sand, watching from a distance, knees drawn to your chest, wanting to be a part of his world. 

You couldn't take your eyes off JJ. His carefree smile, the sparkle in his blue eyes, the messy blonde hair that seemed to catch the sunlight. Even at that age, there was something special about him, an energy that drew you in without you being able to help it. While John B protected you like the older brother he was, you dreamed that one day JJ would look at you the way he looked at the ocean waves: with admiration, with interest. But for years, that day never came. 

To him, you were always John B’s little sister, a constant but almost invisible presence in his life. The girl who ran after the Pogues, who listened to their stories from the corner of the room, laughing when everyone else did, but who never got a special glance from JJ.

Until that night.

It was at one of those impromptu parties at the Routledge house, with the sound of the ocean in the background and lights hanging on the porch. The air was heavy with salt and laughter, and you had decided, almost without thinking, that tonight would be different. You had spent hours choosing what to wear, looking for a balance between casual and what might catch his attention. The short dress you chose was simple, but it knew how to highlight your subtle curves, the ones JJ had never noticed before.

When you got to the backyard, the party was already in full swing. Kie was dancing with Sarah near the fire pit, and John B was busy talking to Pope about a new adventure. But you weren’t looking for either of them. There was only one person on your mind.

You saw him leaning against the porch railing, a beer in his hand, talking to a blonde girl you didn’t know. Your heart sank for a moment. Sure, he was with another girl. He was always with some girl. But instead of turning around and giving up, something in you decided that this time you weren’t going to stay in the shadows.

You walked towards the group confidently, feigning a confidence you didn’t really feel, but that seemed to convince everyone. JJ saw you approach, and for the first time, his eyes stopped on you, not in passing, not as his best friend’s sister, but as someone who, for some reason, deserved his attention.

“Do you want a beer?” he offered, with that crooked smile that had always driven you crazy.

“Sure,” you replied with an equally confident smile, though inside your heart was pounding.

They spent the night talking, laughing, sharing glances you hadn’t imagined possible. It wasn’t just the beer; it was the way his fingers brushed yours as he passed you a bottle, the way his eyes roamed your face as if he were seeing it for the first time. He made you feel alive, wanted.

And then, close to midnight, when everyone was too busy to notice, he led you away from the hustle and bustle, to the back of the house, where the shadows met the moonlight.

“I always thought you were different,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes fixed on yours.

“Different how?” you asked, barely breathing, afraid it was all a dream.

“I don’t know… I’ve never seen you like this before. But now I can’t stop looking at you.”

And then he kissed you. It was gentle at first, like he was testing something he had been waiting to discover. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, afraid that if you let go, the moment would fade. 

Ever since that night at the party, your relationship with JJ became a secret that throbbed between the two of you, hidden in the margins of your lives. When you were around others, he was still the same JJ: charismatic, carefree, the boy who joked with John B and made everyone laugh. But in those moments when his eyes met yours, there was something different. Something that only you two shared. 

The escapades began to become more frequent. At first, they were small encounters: a furtive glance from across the room, the purposeful brush of your hands as you passed him a bottle, or a smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come. But over time, those stolen moments stopped being enough. 

There were nights when JJ would send you a short, simple text: “Meet you at the dock.” And you, unable to resist, would sneak out of the house while John B slept, slipping through the shadows until you reached him. There, under the dim light of the stars and the sound of the waves crashing against the wood, JJ would wait for you. Always with that mischievous smile, always with the promise of making you forget the world for a while.

“Do you ever wonder what would happen if John B knew?” you asked one night, as you both sat on the edge of the dock, your feet dangling over the water.

JJ looked at you, his smile fading for a moment. He knew the question was going to come sooner or later.

“He’d probably kill me,” he replied with a soft laugh, but there was a truth in his words that made you shudder.

“I know,” you murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was the reality that always hung over the both of you, a cloud that never quite went away.

JJ slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers traced soft circles on your skin, as if he wanted to calm your thoughts.

“But I also know I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered close to your ear. “I don’t want to.”

His words hit you with a mix of excitement and fear. Because even though JJ was impulsive, and sometimes he didn’t think about the consequences, you knew his feelings were real. He didn’t say it to make you feel good, but because he truly meant it.

There were always boundaries, though. They never talked about the future, never wondered what they were to each other. Everything stayed in the present, in what they could steal from each other while no one was looking. And even though you wanted more—more of his touch, more of his glances, more of his time—there was a part of you that was afraid to ask for it.

There were days when reality hit you harder. Like when you saw him flirting with other girls at parties, his easy smile and undeniable charm melting hearts in its wake. You knew he’d always been like that, and that, in theory, you had no right to feel jealous. It wasn’t anything serious.

But it hurt.

“Why does it bother you?” he asked you once, after you confronted him about spending too much time with a girl at a party.

“I don’t know…” you lied, but you both knew the truth.

JJ looked at you with those blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He moved in slowly, his fingers brushing your cheek before he cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“You’re the one who’s here with me now” he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. “Not her.”

And when he kissed you, all your thoughts faded away, at least for a moment.

But reality always came back.

Despite the doubts that lingered in your head, you kept looking at JJ. Because even though there were no promises, even though he never assured you anything, you were willing to settle for what he gave you. It was enough… or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

But then, she showed up.

Her name was Emma. She wasn’t the type that usually hung out in the Outer Banks, nor some random girl who showed up at parties. She was new to the island, with a dazzling smile and a carefree air that caught everyone’s attention… including JJ.

The first time you saw her was at one of those beach gatherings, where all the Pogues and a few Kooks mingled. You were sitting near Kie and Sarah, enjoying the warmth of the fire, when you noticed her. Tall, blonde, with the kind of confidence that seemed to light up the place she was in.

But what really made you tense was seeing how JJ looked at her. It was a look you recognized all too well. The same one he’d started giving you in those first few encounters. The same one that had made you feel visible, wanted.

And now, that look was directed at someone else.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to ignore it, telling yourself it meant nothing. JJ had always been charming with girls, always flirted. But there was a difference this time. Emma wasn’t just another one.

“Are you okay?” Sarah asked you, noticing your silence.

“Yes, everything is fine” you lied, forcing a smile that barely managed to convince her.

That night, JJ spent most of his time with Emma. He helped her light a new fire, offered her a beer, and when she laughed at one of his jokes, you felt something snap inside you.

He barely looked at you.

You tried not to give it any importance, thinking it was just one night. That the next day, things would go back to the way they were. But they didn't.

From that point on, Emma showed up at every party, every impromptu get-together, and JJ always found an excuse to get close to her. It seemed like the whole world had shrunk to that girl… except for you.

There was one afternoon when everyone decided to go surfing. You were used to seeing JJ in the water, seeing how his smile lit up when he challenged the waves. But that day, instead of being by your side, he was teaching Emma how to balance on the board. She was laughing nervously, and he was completely focused on her, as if nothing else mattered.

You felt the air grow heavy, like you couldn’t breathe. And though you tried to stay calm, it was hard not to notice how your presence had ceased to be relevant to him.

Later, as everyone relaxed on the sand, JJ walked over to where you were sitting alone, drawing circles in the sand with his fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been really quiet lately,” he said, his carefree smile on, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.

Of course he hadn’t noticed.

“Nothing. I’m fine,” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he insisted, leaning slightly towards you, as if he wanted to figure out what you weren’t saying.

“Yeah, JJ. I’m fine,” you said more firmly, even though you knew it was an obvious lie.

He looked at you for a second longer, as if he was about to say something, but then Emma called out to him from the shore. And without a second thought, JJ stood up and walked away, leaving behind a void that seemed to grow ever larger.

That night, there was no “See you at the dock” text.

You stayed in your room, staring at the ceiling, wondering when Emma became his center of attention.

The next few days were silent torment. Emma kept showing up everywhere, and JJ was still by her side, oblivious to you. Every time you saw them together, every time you heard his laughter mixing with hers, you felt like you might… you didn’t even know.

Until one night, when the tension became unbearable, JJ found you alone on the dock, the same place where it had all started. He sat down next to you, the sound of the water breaking the silence between you.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been distant,” he said, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. “Is something going on?”

You looked at him, and for the first time, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You really don’t notice, JJ?” you asked, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and hurt.

“Notice what?” he replied, genuinely confused, as if everything that was going on between you had been invisible to him.

And there, at that moment, you understood. JJ Maybank was an idiot.

“Forget it,” you whispered, getting up from the spot and walking in another direction.

JJ watched you leave for a second longer, wanting to understand, but in the end, he simply stayed silent. Because to him, everything was fine.

The next day dawned hot, and the beach seemed like the only logical place to spend the afternoon. The boys had decided to surf, while you, Sarah, and Kie settled down on the sand, towels spread out and sunglasses covering your faces. The sun was beating down, and although you tried to relax and concentrate on the light conversation your friends were having, your gaze inevitably sought out JJ.

You found him quickly. It wasn’t hard. He was in the water, near the waves, with Emma. She was laughing, splashing as he helped her stabilize on the board, like he’d done with you so many times before. There was an ease in the way JJ moved with her, like nothing in the world could interrupt them. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.

“Are you burning?” Kie asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh? No… I’m fine,” you answered quickly, adjusting your sunglasses to hide the frown you hadn’t been able to help.

You tried to stay present, to laugh at the right moments, to talk about anything but what was really bothering you. But your eyes kept returning to JJ and Emma, ​​like they were impossible magnets to control. Every laugh from her, every smile from him, stuck in you like a needle.

After a while, you got tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t care.

“I’m going to the water to cool off a bit,” you announced, getting up from your towel and brushing the sand off your legs.

“I’ll join you in a bit,” Sarah said, but you were already walking toward the shore.

The water was cool, an immediate relief from the scorching heat. You waded in up to your ankles, letting the small waves splash against your feet as you stared at the horizon. You took a deep breath, trying to drown out that feeling of discomfort that had been haunting you for days.

The sound of footsteps approaching behind you made you turn your head slightly. JJ.

“Aren’t you going to go any further in?” he asked, with that lazy smile he always seemed to have.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you continued to stare at the water, as if he wasn’t there. As if his presence didn’t affect you.

JJ didn’t seem to be put off by your silence. He moved closer, until he was close enough for his feet to touch the water as well.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, as if it was all a game to him.

“No, JJ. I’m not mad,” you murmured, not looking at him.

But he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t true. There was a moment of silence, and then, you felt it. His hand brushing your back, his fingers playing with the thin strap of your bikini.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to look at him, but it was too late. With a quick, precise movement, JJ peeled off the top strap of your bikini.

“JJ!” “Oh,” you exclaimed, heart racing as you scrambled to hold the fabric to your chest, keeping it from falling. Your eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and anger.

He laughed, that carefree laugh that always seemed to come out of him so easily.

“Relax, no one saw,” he said, quickly looking around. It was true. Sarah and Kie were still talking to each other on the sand, and everyone else was busy in their own worlds. No one was paying attention… except you.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice steady, trying to stay calm as you tied your bikini back up.

JJ shrugged, that mischievous spark in his eyes.

“I wanted to see how you tanned.”

The answer made you boil inside. What was a light joke to him was an invasion to you, a reminder of how he always seemed to take everything lightly, even when you were at the edge of an emotional abyss.

You stared at him, your eyes burning.

“Why don’t you check to see if Emma has tanned?” you shot back, an edge to your voice that you couldn’t hide.

JJ raised an eyebrow, surprised by your response. The amusement on his face faded for a second, replaced by something that looked like curiosity.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, tilting his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he hadn’t finished putting together.

Jealous. The word hung in the air, heavy, loaded with meaning. Of course you were, but you would never admit it to him. Not to him. Not after how he’d been ignoring you.

“Don’t make me laugh, JJ,” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why would I be jealous? What you do with Emma is none of my business, is it?”

You saw him tense, if only for a second. But JJ was JJ, and he quickly returned to his carefree facade.

“You’re right,” he said, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

The coldness of his words hit you harder than you expected. You felt a lump in your throat, but you refused to show him how much it had affected you.

“Exactly,” you said firmly, giving him one last look before turning and walking away from him, back towards the beach.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on your back. But you didn’t look back. Because even though a part of you wanted him to follow you, to say something, anything to show that he cared, you knew he wouldn’t.

After that day at the beach, something changed inside you. It was like you had finally crossed a line that had no way back. You could no longer pretend that what JJ did didn’t affect you, that his indifference didn’t hurt you. So you decided to stop trying.

You would ignore him.

Every time he came close, you would walk away. Whenever he made a group comment, you just looked away. And if he ever tried to start a conversation with you, your answers were short, curt, just enough for him to understand that you didn’t want anything from him.

But it was a lie.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. Not when you still felt that flutter in your stomach every time you saw him smile, or when his laugh, the one that seemed to fill all the space around him, reached your ears. But you wanted him to think you hated him. You wanted him to feel, at least a little, the rejection you had felt.

The first time you deliberately ignored him was at a meeting. You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by friends, when JJ walked in, as always, with an energy that seemed to light up the room.

“Hey,” he greeted, with that easy smile that used to make you melt.

“Hey,” everyone answered, except you.

You didn’t even look up. You just kept looking at your phone, as if he wasn’t there.

He noticed. You knew because he paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something. But when you didn’t, he moved toward the group, his smile barely faltering.

Later, he tried to approach you again. You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when you felt him behind you.

“Are you hiding from me?” he asked in a light, almost mocking tone.

“I don’t have to hide from anyone, JJ,” you replied without looking at him, your voice so cold it almost surprised you.

He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you. It was his classic move, the carefree guy one, but you weren’t willing to fall for it anymore.

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” he finally asked, his tone more serious.

“I have nothing to tell you,” you replied, focusing back on your drink.

“Nothing?” he insisted, taking a step closer. Not even to tell me why you're acting like I did something terrible to you?

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. It was hard to stand your ground when he was so close, when you could feel his presence enveloping you.

“I’m not acting. I just have no interest in talking to you. That’s all.”

“Are you sure?” JJ asked, a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Because it seems more like you’re avoiding me.”

You shot him a look loaded with intent.

“JJ, it’s not all about you. You’re not as important as you think.”

The lie came out more bitter than you expected. Because, actually, it was. He’d always been important to you, but you refused to admit it.

JJ fell silent, as if he were evaluating your words. Finally, he let out a low laugh, the laugh that used to enchant you but now only seemed to infuriate you.

“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Perfect,” you replied, turning your back on him and walking out of the kitchen before he could say anything else.

But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Ignoring him took more effort than you anticipated. Because JJ wasn’t the type to accept being ignored easily. He was still looking for excuses to get close to you, to invade your space with his unmistakable presence.

There was one afternoon at the beach when you were with Sarah and Kie, laughing and enjoying the sun, when he appeared with his surfboard under his arm. He stopped near where you were standing, as if he was looking for something… or someone.

“You coming to the water?” he asked, addressing the group, but with his eyes on you.

“No. We’re fine here,” Kie replied before you could speak.

But JJ didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you as if he was waiting for a specific answer. One that never came.

Finally, he turned around and walked towards the water, but not before giving you one last look, as if he was trying to figure out the wall you had put up between you.

The tension between you had grown like a storm about to break loose. Ignoring him had been your strategy, and JJ had played his part at first. But like everything involving him, it couldn’t last long. You were both too impulsive, too passionate to keep pretending you didn’t care.

The opportunity for it all to explode came at one of the parties that always seemed to bring everyone together. With loud music, flashing lights, and the beach in the background. The air was charged with energy, but you were tense from the moment you arrived. You knew JJ would be there, and even though you had spent days perfecting the skill of ignoring him, something told you that tonight would be different.

You leaned against a wall near the kitchen, holding a glass in your hand, watching the crowd dance and laugh. Sarah and Kie were nearby, talking to some guys, but you weren’t in the mood to socialize. Your gaze, as always, sought him out. And you found him.

JJ was there, in the center of the room, laughing with his friends and… with Emma. She was beside him, too close, laughing at something he had said. It was a scene you had seen repeated too many times in the past few weeks, and it hurt more and more each time.

You tried to ignore it, as you had been doing, but that night it was harder. Something inside you was on the verge of breaking.

“Are you okay?” Kie asked, coming closer.

“Yeah, sure,” you lied, giving her a forced smile.

She looked at you curiously, but didn’t insist. She didn’t want to talk about JJ. She didn’t want to think about him… but it was impossible not to.

A couple of hours later, the party was still at its peak. You had decided to go out to the backyard to get some fresh air. The cool breeze was a relief against the heat you felt inside. You were standing, staring at the waves in the distance, when you heard him.

“Are you going to keep avoiding me all night?”

JJ’s voice.

You didn’t need to turn around to know he was behind you. You could feel his presence, so familiar and so frustrating. You pressed your lips together and took a deep breath before slowly turning around.

“I didn’t know I had to talk to you, JJ,” you replied coldly, crossing your arms over your chest.

He looked at you, his blue eyes shining with that mix of confusion and determination that always managed to disarm you. But this time you refused to fall.

“Really?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Are you going to keep doing this? Because I’m tired. I’m tired of you ignoring me, of you acting like I don’t exist.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding. You had expected that confrontation, but now that it was here, you didn’t know if you were ready to face it.

“And what did you expect me to do, JJ?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. “Keep pretending everything was okay? Because it’s not.”

He frowned, crossing his arms.

“Pretending? What are you talking about? Everything was fine until you started acting like you hated me.”

The word “hate” made you shudder. It wasn’t hate, it never had been, but you wanted him to believe it.

“I don’t hate you, JJ,” you said, voice softer this time, but still laden with emotion. “What bothers me is that… you just don’t realize it.”

“Realize what?” he asked, genuinely interested now, his tone more serious.

That was the moment. You could feel it in the air, like everything around you had stopped, waiting for your answer.

“About how I feel about you.” The words came out before you could stop them, and once they were said, there was no going back. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, JJ. And every time you ignore me, every time I see you with Emma or any other girl… it hurts.” It hurts more than I can bear.

JJ stared at you, as if he was processing every word. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and that silence was worse than any answer.

“I didn’t know…” he finally murmured, his voice seeming softer, more vulnerable.

“How could you know?” you said, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You never looked at me like that. I was always John B’s sister, or just another friend. I was never enough for you, was I?”

He shook his head, taking a step closer. He was in front of you now, so close you could feel his heat.

“Don’t say that. It’s not true.”

“No?” you asked, challenging him with your gaze. “Because that’s how you’ve made me feel.”

JJ raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before gently placing it on your cheek. The contact was electric, as always, but this time you weren’t about to let that confuse you.

“You are more than enough.” You always have been… but I’m the idiot who didn’t see it.” His voice was sincere, full of something you hadn’t heard before: regret.

“JJ…” You whispered his name, your eyes searching for his, but this time there were no barriers. Everything was there, exposed.

And for the first time, there were no more games, no more lies. Just the two of you, face to face, with the truth finally spoken.

JJ looked at you with an intensity you had rarely seen in him. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, and for an instant, everything around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, with the truth floating in the air, no masks, no games.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice low, but full of emotion. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.”

Despite the emotions bubbling in your chest, a part of you still resisted. You had spent so much time building that wall between you that letting it fall suddenly made you feel vulnerable, exposed.

“JJ…” you started, but he didn’t let you continue.

“Listen to me.” His hand was still on your cheek, and his thumb traced a light circle on your skin, sending a shiver through your body. “I don’t know when I started feeling this… the way I feel about you. But it’s there. I know it now, and I don’t want to ignore it anymore. I don’t want to lose you anymore.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had dreamed of hearing something like this so many times that it seemed unreal now.

“What about Emma?” you asked, your voice still heavy with caution. “You seem pretty interested in her lately.”

JJ frowned slightly, as if the mere mention of Emma was irrelevant at the moment.

“Emma doesn’t mean anything.” His answer was firm, sincere.

His words made a wave of heat run through you. For a moment, you wanted to believe him, but there was still a part of you that wanted to hold on to the resentment, to the distance you had kept. It was easier than giving yourself over completely.

JJ noticed your hesitation, and with a mischievous smile that you knew well, he added:

“You know, I like it when you ignore me… but I prefer it when you talk to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. His ability to disarm you with a simple sentence was still intact.

“Don’t get used to this, JJ.” Your eyes met his, a spark of defiance flashing in them. “I may go back to hating you. It was more fun.”

He laughed, genuine and carefree, as if your words were exactly what he needed to hear.

“I doubt it.” He leaned in slightly, getting so close that his breath brushed your lips. “But if you do… I promise I’ll find a way to make you like me again.”

The world seemed to stop for a second. The air between you was thick with tension, but this time it wasn’t the same tension you’d been carrying around for weeks. This time it was different. It was something new, something real.

And when JJ finally closed the distance, brushing your lips against his in a slow kiss filled with everything that had been left unsaid, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to resist, there was no turning back. You were lost in him, as always, but this time he was lost in you too.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Regulus's Amortentia

Hey guys! Someone requested I do some writing exploring the ways Amortentia can smell (that it doesn't always reflect romantic love) so I decided to so a series of microfics about it! I'm hoping to get a few of them done today.

Eight

The first time Regulus smelled the potion was when he was young. His father had always been an experienced and talented potioneer, something he passed down to his son, and so when the eight-year-old smelled the clear liquid, he already knew what it was.

He didn't know what it smelled like.

It was a vague smell, out of reach even when he breathed deeply, a hint of something, but not enough for him to grasp it.

He fled the room when his father caught him and yelled loud enough to make the cauldron rattle.

Twelve

Being taken under Slughorn's wing was a blessing and a curse. The tutelage of a Professor allowed him respite from the confusion of his house-- the push and pull of his kind friends and the strong ideas of those in years above him. But he also knew he was ostracizing himself by labelling himself the teacher's pet.

It was one day as he hid in Slughorn's study that he happened upon the cauldron again.

This time, he recognized the smell.

Cut grass and old leather. The scent of Sirius's hair potion that he always caught in his nostrils when his older brother pulled him into a secret hug when his parents weren't looking. A strange whiff of warmth, like the fire in the dorm he shared with Barty and Evan, and the smell of Pandora's sage she constantly burnt.

Fifteen

This time, he smelled it when he was stopping someone else from consuming it. Some horrible, sleazy seventh-years had been spiking the drinks of younger girls as a joke, enjoying the chaos of watching them run amok with love. So he'd taken to sniffing Pandora and Dorcas's drinks before they ate, just in case.

It was in Pandora's pumpkin juice that he caught the tendrils of the same hair potion, warmth, and sage as two years ago. But now, a new scent joined. The smell of the showers after Quidditch practice, the spicy soap that an older boy used. An older boy Regulus tried desperately not to look at.

Blushing profusely, Regulus took the drink up to the professors, reporting the potion.

Sixteen

The first time he encountered the potion in his studies was shortly after his first huge fight with his parents. They'd found out about how he'd reported the older Slytherins, and how he thought more about boys than girls. Sirius had left that previous summer, and Regulus had followed behind. His entire world had been turned on its axis.

And he'd also spent time with someone new. Someone with circular glasses and infuriatingly messy hair.

He shouldn't have been surprised, when the smell accosted his nostrils. When he stepped into the classroom and breathed deeply to inhale small scents of smoke and hair potion and leather and sage.

And sunshine.

He couldn't explain it, but the scent of the sun overpowered everything else, nearly knocking him backward.

And he shouldn't have been surprised.

But still, he gasped with the knowledge that not only did he love his brother and his friends, but he was in love.

With James Potter.

[punkshort]

Palm Trees

Thank you @itsafullmoon for this prompt!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Sometimes love can be found unexpectedly in the aisle of Home Depot's Christmas displays.

Warnings: language, fluff, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of OC deaths, sexual tension, flirting

WC: 3.6K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel smiled as he watched Sarah skip down the aisles of Home Depot, him trailing behind pushing an orange cart that already was half filled with way too many boxes of Christmas lights, two light up penguins, and an inflatable Santa.

Christmas was never this thing, but he tried to make it special for Sarah. Her mother had always been the one to go the whole nine yards for the holiday while Joel kicked back and watched his girls have a blast decorating the house. Every year they participated in the Christmas lights competition their small town just outside of Austin, Texas held, and every year they lost. But it never really mattered because they had so much fun putting everything together and brainstorming on Thanksgiving what they thought would give them a competitive edge.

When his wife passed away four years ago, they stopped participating in the competition. It never felt right, and neither of them wanted to do it. But that year on Thanksgiving, much to Joel's surprise, Sarah turned to him out of the blue and said, we should do a penguin slip and slide on the lawn this year.

Tommy and Maria fell silent, eyes darting between Joel and his daughter while they waited for his response. Once he collected himself, he said, what about Santa in a hot tub?

Thus, the idea was born: Christmas on the beach. They still had plenty of supplies from years before, but he let Sarah plan the whole thing. If she wanted new things to put on the lawn, he would gladly pay for them just to see that huge smile on her face when she looked at him over her shoulder as she skipped down the aisle.

Given their beach theme, one thing they definitely needed and didn't already own was a light up palm tree, one which Sarah scouted out online and informed Joel it was the only home improvement store that had them in stock. He wanted to tease her and remind her that of course palm trees weren't popular to keep on the shelf at Christmas time, but she was so excited he just shook his head and grabbed his keys.

"Alright, it's gotta be here, it says it's in aisle 17A," Sarah said when she slowed down, scanning the huge light-up displays. Joel sighed and looked around, gaze drifting over presents, reindeer and wreathes until he heard Sarah gasp softly. He slid to a stop and whipped his head in her direction. She was standing in the middle of the aisle, crestfallen, as she watched a young woman lift the very last palm tree into her cart.

"Oh, no," she whispered, and Joel's heart broke when he heard the despair in her voice. He couldn't stand to see Sarah that way after she had been so excited for Christmas for the first time since the loss of her mother, so he did something he never thought he would do. He abandoned the cart with Sarah, instructing her to stay right there, and hurried down the aisle towards you.

"Hey, uh, excuse me?"

You looked up in surprise, then glanced over your shoulder to make sure he was actually addressing you, before meeting his eye again.

"Yes?"

Joel came to a stop in front of your cart and lowered his voice.

"I have a favor to ask," he began. When he saw the defensive look on your face, he quickly shook his head. "Sorry, wait. See the little girl behind me? With the cart?"

Your eyes flicked over his shoulder quickly, spotting the curly haired pre-teen, then nodded.

"Well, it sounds ridiculous but she's got her heart set on that damn palm tree, and-" Joel looked at the shelf to confirm before giving you his attention again. "You got the last one. You think I can buy it from you?"

You blinked in surprise, your eyes slowly sliding between him and the boxed palm tree in your cart, then bit your lip.

"Well..."

"Please," he begged before pulling out his wallet. "Whatever you want. I don't wanna make you feel bad, but we lost my wife a few years back. Lightin' up the house for that damn competition was somethin' she always did with her mom. This is the first year she's been excited for it and I don't wanna let her down."

Your shoulders sagged in defeat and you turned to your cart.

"That's okay, you can take it. You don't need to pay me," you told him, stepping aside so he could grab the box. But Joel shook his head.

"No, please, lemme give you somethin' for it."

You smiled sadly and waved him off.

"I don't want your money. Make your daughter happy. It's hard for a girl to lose her mom. Just... take it."

You turned your back to him but he heard you sniffle softly behind your hand and he frowned.

"You alright?" he asked, hands slowly lowering when he sensed something was amiss

"Yeah, I'm fine," you assured him. You crossed your arms over the handle of your cart and leaned against it, like the weight of the world was forcing you down.

"No, you ain't. This palm tree mean somethin' to you?" he asked while pointing at the box.

"No, not really," you said with a shrug. But when Joel refused to accept that as an answer, you sighed and rolled your eyes. "I lost my mom, too. Last year. She lived in Florida and she loved Christmas and I saw the stupid tree so-"

You shook your head, letting your sentence fall unfinished in the air. Joel's heart sank and he looked back at Sarah, who was staring at him curiously.

"Sarah, c'mere," he called. She pushed the shopping cart down the aisle and you looked up, tilting your head to the side in confusion. "Sarah," he said with his arm outstretched towards you. "This is-"

He cut himself off and looked at you expectantly. You stood up straighter and told them both your name, which Joel repeated before looking back at his daughter.

"What'dya say we get a little help with the Christmas decorations this year?" he asked her. Then he swiveled back to you before adding, "I mean, if you wanna. We could really use it if you're free."

A slow smile stretched across your face and you gave him a quick nod before catching Sarah's eye. She grinned at you before saying, "Sounds great. He's pretty much useless, anyway." Sarah jutted her thumb in Joel's direction and you both laughed softly before you agreed.

"I mean, as long as it's not an imposition," you said quickly. Both Joel and Sarah quickly put your worries to rest.

"Not at all. We'd love the help," he assured you. Then Sarah playfully nudged his arm.

"Ask for her number, Dad."

You felt your cheeks warm and Joel awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Can I, uh, get your number? So we can set up a date? I mean, a time?"

"Yeah, of course," you giggled when he grew flustered at his slip-up. You took his phone and tapped in your name and number before handing it back to him.

"We're doing a Christmas on the beach theme for our house this year," Sarah told you excitedly, dragging your gaze off her father, who you finally allowed yourself to notice was extremely handsome.

"Oh, yeah? That sounds cool. You know, I used to live in Florida, so we literally had Christmas on the beach every year. We can put some sunglasses on Santa and beach umbrellas over the reindeer," you offered. Sarah's eyes lit up when she looked at her father.

"Dad, she's brilliant," Sarah said matter-of-factly. Joel chuckled while you tried to hide your excitement by shyly looking down at your own phone.

"Alright, well, thank you," Joel said before hoisting the box from your cart and dropping it into his. "And, uh," he glanced sideways at Sarah before saying softly, "anything else you wanna do to honor your mom, just lemme know. We'll do anythin' you want."

Even though Joel dropped his voice, Sarah still heard him. Her mouth twisted sadly as she looked away to offer you some privacy.

"Yeah, thanks," you replied with a small smile. You wrapped your fingers around the rail of your shopping cart and began to back away. "You better actually call me. 'Cause if you try to pull one over on me just to take my palm tree, I'll find you," you joked.

"Oh, I'll be callin' you, don't worry," he told you while trying to fight the stupid grin from stretching across his face. Right before you turned and waved, he shot you a wink that made your heart flutter, then you disappeared towards the cash registers.

"She's pretty."

Joel's neck practically snapped when he heard his daughter speak by his side.

"Oh. I-I ... it ain't like that. I felt bad that she-"

"Yeah, okay, Dad," Sarah said with a roll of her eyes. "C'mon. We need to find the extension cords before the store closes."

Joel let Sarah lead the way while silently trying to unravel her unexpectedly relaxed reaction to him possibly flirting with another woman. He ached for the comfort having a partner brought, but for years he stifled his own desires for fear of upsetting Sarah. She was his one and only priority, and he was fine with that.

But for the first time he began to wonder if it was possible to have both.

True to his word, Joel had called you a couple days later asking if you were free that Saturday to help decorate. It felt nice to have a distraction around the holidays. It kept you from wallowing and thinking too much about your mother, but as you were getting ready to leave, you decided you didn't want to forget about her entirely. You wanted to honor her memory in some way, so at the last minute you tugged on your ugly Christmas sweater, the same one you would wear every Christmas morning with your mom, then rushed out the door.

"Whoa! You came prepared!" Sarah exclaimed when she swung open the front door. You grinned and looked down at your sweater covered with garland that was hanging on by a thread and some horrifying looking Santa with a reindeer.

"My mom used to have a matching one, it was kind of our tradition on Christmas," you explained as you slipped off your boots.

"I love that. My mom used to have this vest with these, like, ornaments hanging off them. It was hideous but she legitimately thought it was cute," Sarah laughed over her shoulder as she led you into the kitchen, where Joel was hunched over the sink scrubbing dishes. While his back was still turned, you allowed yourself to quickly eye him up. He was wearing a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a dish towel tossed over his left shoulder. He looked so domestic and comfortable in that moment that it had your heart skipping a beat.

"Oh, hey," Joel said when he noticed you. "Sorry. Just cleanin' up. Lost track of time."

"No problem," you said, eyes still fixed on the way his broad shoulders moved underneath his shirt. Distracted, you went to lean against the kitchen counter and almost fell when you misjudged the distance, causing Sarah to stifle a giggle and turn away.

Once Joel dried his hands, he turned to face you properly. His eyes landed on your sweater and you could see the inner turmoil in his expression as he tried to figure out if it was worn as a joke or not, so you quickly put him out of his misery.

"It's just something dumb my mom and I wore on Christmas," you explained. His shoulders dropped and he smiled.

"Cute."

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling like a fool when you watched his face turn pink and his eyes widen.

"I mean, it's cute - the sweater's cute - not you."

Then Joel's face twisted and he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's not to say you ain't cute, it's just - well, I was tryin' to say -"

"Oh, my god, Dad! You're making it so much worse!" Sarah laughed before disappearing back the way you came. "I'll be in the garage getting all the stuff together!" she called. You heard the rustle from her coat right before the door squeaked open and shut, leaving the two of you all alone.

"Sorry," Joel finally said sheepishly. You giggled and waved him off.

"Don't be," you replied. Maybe it was the privacy that gave you a streak of sudden bravery because you then added, "I thought it was cute. It being you."

Before you could register the shocked look on his face, you swiveled around to follow Sarah's path towards the front door. "See you out there!" you sang before slipping back outside, grateful for the cool winter air to help soothe your warm cheeks.

You were surprised with how quickly you grew comfortable with Joel and Sarah. They had an easiness to their family that you craved and very much enjoyed experiencing, even if it was only for just one afternoon.

"Good thing you were free to help today. There's supposed to be a blizzard tonight," Sarah said when she climbed the steps of the porch, arms filled with an assortment of tangled Christmas lights. "We never would have been able to put all this stuff up with a ton of snow on the ground."

"When's the competition again?" you asked, plopping down and grabbing a string of lights to unravel.

"Christmas Eve," she said, "You're coming, right?"

Your mind stuttered a bit at the question. You hadn't been invited, but you wouldn't expect to be, either. A few days ago, both she and her father were complete strangers. It would have been weird to spend Christmas Eve with them. Right?

"Oh, no, that's a time for family," you insisted while focusing all of your attention on the pile of lights in your lap. Across the yard, you both heard Joel swear to himself when two reindeer toppled over. You looked up and smiled. It was incredibly adorable to watch him work so hard to make the yard perfect for his daughter.

"So you'll be with your family, then?" Sarah questioned with a hint of sadness to her voice. Your mouth opened and closed for a second as you tried to think of what to say until you sighed and shook your head.

"No, actually I'll be alone this year," you told her after deciding to go with the truth.

"Well, then, why can't you come over?" she asked. Before you could reply, she lifted her chin and shouted across the lawn for Joel.

Immediately you raised your hands, waving them back and forth while saying, "No, please, I don't want to be a bother. I meant you should be with your family," you said.

"No one should be alone on Christmas," Sarah told you softly just as Joel had walked up, lifting one boot to rest on the bottom step.

"You're gonna be alone on Christmas?" Joel asked with a concerned look so sweet, it made your knees weak.

"Yeah, I mean, it's not a big deal," you said while doing your best to avoid both their eyes. You suddenly felt overexposed and uncomfortable, so you picked up the lights again and got to work untangling them.

"You should stop by," Joel told you. "I mean, only if you wanna. No pressure or nothin', it's just gonna be us, my brother 'n his wife but... we'd love to have you."

"We can all wear ugly sweaters, just like you and your mom used to," Sarah said, the offer making your heart melt.

"Uh, thanks, but I don't know..." you trailed off, still fixing your gaze on the lights. "I'll think about it."

The rest of the afternoon flew by, fortunately without any more awkwardness. The sun had set almost an hour prior to the three of you hurrying towards the end of the driveway so you could take in the beautiful Christmas landscape you created in all its glory.

"This is our year, I can feel it," Sarah announced happily between you both. You looked down at her and grinned, her dark brown eyes sparkling as she stared at the beachy Christmas scene you had worked so hard to create.

"Better be, considerin' my electric bill's gonna be through the roof," Joel muttered, but when you lifted your eyes to look at him, you caught him smiling just as wide as Sarah.

"Well, my job here is done," you said, clapping your gloved hands together. "I should hit the road before that blizzard comes."

"It's not supposed to snow til, like, super early in the morning," Sarah protested. "Can't you stay for a little while longer?"

"We were gonna order a pizza and watch a movie, if you're interested," Joel added. "C'mon, it's the least we could do for all your help."

You hesitantly agreed and you told yourself it was only because you missed being part of a family and absolutely nothing to do with how handsome Joel looked under the glow from the Christmas lights.

What you didn't expect was for everyone to be so exhausted after spending the day working hard that the three of you would fall asleep halfway through the movie. It was close to four in the morning when you awoke with a jolt, your neck craned at an impossible angle against the back of Joel's couch. You winced and tenderly massaged the knot in your neck, then straightened up and looked around, wondering what disturbed you in the first place.

It was Joel, who was in the process of gently picking up Sarah from the spot next to you. He noticed you were awake and held one finger to his lips. You swallowed tightly and nodded, remaining still and quiet so as not to wake up Sarah, and watched him carefully walk down the hallway past the kitchen to tuck her into bed.

Once they were both gone, you were left with a glowing television screen and a dryness in your mouth that had you wandering into the dim kitchen for some water. You were halfway through your glass and about to peer out the window when you heard Joel's voice behind you softly say your name. You swiveled around to find him leaning against the kitchen counter, still clad in that red flannel but now adorned with messy bedhead hair that had your mind going down a dangerous path.

"God, sorry I fell asleep," you said, placing your empty glass in the sink. "I'll get going-"

Joel laughed quietly, cutting you off.

"Don't think you'll be goin' anywhere. Did you look outside?"

Your face fell and you hurried over to the window, peeling the curtain back just to find his entire driveway, your car included, covered in a thick blanket of snow.

"Still comin' down, too," he told you. "Ain't safe to drive. You can take my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

"Oh, gosh, no - I'll sleep on the couch," you told him firmly. The corner of Joel's mouth twitched into a little smile before he pushed off the counter, taking a few steps towards you.

"You're stubborn, y'know that?"

"I do," you replied with a grin. But when he got close enough to pinch the material of your sweater between his fingers, your smile slipped from your face and your heart began to race.

"I like it," he finally said, his voice so soft it sent a shiver down your spine. "You, by the way. You and that stubborn streak. Not the sweater, this thing is ugly as hell."

You laughed and quickly clapped your hand over your mouth so as not to wake up Sarah. Joel grinned and moved a little closer, the scent from his laundry detergent and faded cologne invading your senses.

"You'll come by for Christmas, right?" he asked, letting his hand fall back to his side. He gazed down at you, those beautiful eyes scanning your face like he was looking for something.

"I don't want to impose on your family time," you told him, noting you sounded a little short of breath from the close proximity. He just frowned and the hand that was once touching your sweater came up to pinch your chin.

It felt as if time stood still when he leaned down to gingerly brush his lips over yours. Then he leaned back and searched your eyes, checking to make sure what he did was okay. Without hesitating, you stood up on your tiptoes and pressed your mouth against his, too eager to feel the warmth of his lips again to wait.

"How 'bout now?" Joel asked after he tore himself away. You opened your eyes and looked up at him curiously, then he smirked. "You still think it's an imposition?" he clarified. Your eyes lit up and you bit back a smile as you pretended to think about it.

"Hmm, I'm not sure," you teased, "I might need you to kiss me again before I can decide."

Joel chuckled then crashed his mouth against yours, taking your breath away. You could feel a heat behind that kiss, one that was filled with promise and excitement that had you feeling lightheaded and giddy.

"Well?" he panted when he pulled away a second time, but he kept your cheek cradled in his palm while he waited for your answer.

"You make a very compelling argument," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his middle. He grinned and leaned forward again for another kiss, but stopped inches away so he could ask, "That mean you'll be here for Christmas?"

"Yeah," you breathed, "I'll be here for Christmas."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Simon's body matures into its prime. There's only one mate he wants. #GhostPriceWeek.

Day One: Confession/Kneel.

cw: omegaverse, penetrative sex, dubcon by nature of Price's sex negative attitude, gentle sex, bonding. ( @gomzdrawfr )

Simon wasn't sure what had changed or why, but he knew he was looking at Price differently these days and he couldn't ignore it for much fuckin’ longer. It was driving him even more insane than he already was.

Price had been helping him–them, all of ‘em–through ruts for the last few years. When it had just been the two of them, Simon would spend the few days leave in Price's Hereford flat exhausting himself between Price's legs and then they would return to normal once the cycle had passed. It had been hard at first, trusting someone, but like in everything, Price had his back. He had only ever treated Simon with dignity and respect.

When the other two joined, Simon didn't bat an eyelid. It made sense. Price was logical like that; easier for them to fuck him and get it over with in a few days, than long it out over a week and risk them snooping around the local villages, potentially ending up with a pup brewing and an angry farmer at the barrack gates with a shotgun. Johnny had priors with it too. Simon had seen the indiscretions on his record, and Gaz was so painfully good-looking that Simon wouldn't be surprised if there were already a few Garrick pups knocking about North London. 

The arrangement bloody worked. Everyone seemed satisfied. So why had Simon started… yearning?

The word had appeared when he'd googled his symptoms one day in a coffee shop. He'd headed off base to do it because all the search histories passed over Price's desk at some point, with questionable or worrying shit highlighted by the IT team for review, and he really didn't need that conversation. “Why are your guts aching, Simon? Do you need medical?” Price would ask, that stern line between his brows, lips pressed down in a deep frown. 

No, sir, my intestines seem to twist themselves in knots every time I see you shirtless at the moment and I can't stop thinkin' about how much I want to shove my tongue down yer throat, now about that requisition form… 

But it wouldn't be like that. Simon would stand there in dumb silence trying to find the words to explain that being around Price at the moment made him ache in ways he had never experienced before. That when he was alone in his own flat a short bus ride away from base, he thought of their time together with a hand around his knot and his knuckles between his teeth. He thought about how good the indomitable John Price would look in the throes of heat, completely vulnerable.

He must have been acting differently, because Price had become more distant. Detached, almost. He was shorter, sharper, than Simon had ever known him to be, even when his temper occasionally flared in the face of red tape and stupidity. Simon needed to get this, whatever this was, under control.

Sitting in that café with his black coffee and Bakewell tart, Simon had learned that an alpha of his age was reaching full maturity and his body was ready to find a permanent mate. By mid-thirties, an alpha’s strength and esteem within a pack was fully established, or it would be if the world still worked like it did a few thousand years ago. If they were still in loincloths, Simon would have battered his fair share of pack alphas and worked his way to the top by now. An omega would select him as worthy and choose him to father their pups. His body was just doing what it had done throughout millennia. Preparing.

In all honesty, his sex ed’ had been woefully lacking. Partly because the mixed comprehensive he had attended had been in special measures and the PSHE lessons had been all out brawls at some points, but also because his attendance had dropped below fifty percent fairly regularly throughout his compulsory education. ‘Very intelligent and capable, but limited by his frequent absences,’ had been his school report a few months before he had scraped just enough GCSEs to fall into a trade apprenticeship, and then September eleventh had happened and his whole world outlook had changed.

The guidance on the website also told him that his scent would change. That he might experience more attention from fertile omegas, and notice their scents more, their bodies. There was a paragraph about consent that followed and Simon had winced at the implications of needing it. He had met enough knotheads in his time even outside his own deranged father, fuckin’ Roba, to know why it was there. While most omegas were dominant and fierce by nature, the modern world had flipped things. Sometimes it just wasn't that straight forward.

The notes said it would pass. By late forties, his hormones would ebb away to normal levels again and by then he'd either be mated or, in his case, probably dead. The odds weren’t exactly in his bloody favour with his current choice of career. They also said his attention would probably flit between options, from omega to omega, as his body sought to spread its genetics as far as possible.

Except it fucking didn't, did it?

There were other omegas on base. A gorgeous blonde in logistics with tits and arse for days, a strapping redheaded mechanic with strong thighs and a pretty smile, then there was the brunette in medical. But those are cursory observations. Simon saw them as attractive in the detached manner you looked at someone who was attractive in the traditional sense. Yeah, he could see it, but he didn't want it.

He wanted Price. His fockin’ captain.

Tart and coffee finished, Simon had headed back to base. He tried to exhaust himself in the gym, finished some paperwork, and eventually wandered to the mess hall for some dinner. It was just as he was tucking into a pile of mashed potatoes and gravy that his phone pinged. 

CJP: My office.

Simon chucked his tray onto the trolley and headed out. By the time he was knocking on Price's door, his heart was beating hard in anticipation. Of fuckin’ what, he had no idea. Clearly needed to watch less porn because the image his mind provided of Price spread out on his desk, presenting, was bloody unhelpful.

“Simon.” Price acknowledged him with a glance as he shut the door behind him. The room was warm, the old radiator beneath the window chucking out more heat than was strictly necessary this early in October. The lights were dim too, the brightness on Price's monitor turned down lower, and there was a subtle, sweet scent beneath the must of paper, furniture polish and old wallpaper that usually hung in the air. 

The primal part of Simon recognised it for what it was, and the rest of him caught up as he got a good look at Price; his cheeks flushed, his blue eyes bright. Pre-heat. Price was getting more sensitive to everything; light, the cold. The smell in here had to be bloody awful to his sensitive nose. Simon blinked slowly, taking a deep breath through the fabric of the mask just to taste more of that glorious promise. If he could lick it out of the air, he would.

“We've got a problem,” Price murmured, slumping back in his chair, his fingers wounded together over his belly.

Simon didn't need to ask. He knew. “S’not a problem, sir. I can keep it under control.”

Price looked down, his face twisting in a brief grimace as he considered the edge of his desk. “S’not just you, Simon. It's me as well.”

Simon blinked, shifting his weight. “Wot?”

“Yer think I can't smell ya? When ya left the gym few hours ago I was meetin’ with Saunders about some performance data. Could smell ya from the otherside of the corridor.”

“Weren’t that fockin’ bad…”

“T’ normal man, no.”

There was an edge in Price's voice. Simon knew his secondary sex was a sore spot. If Price could have chosen, he would have been born an alpha. He despised everything about what he viewed as his ‘condition’. No one else knew, of course. The captain played his personal life close to his chest. Most of the time people assumed he was an alpha and didn’t look any closer. He was six foot two, built like a soldier should be; there was no reason to assume otherwise.

Perfect in every way, Simon's mind offered unhelpfully. Followed by an intrusive thought about how strong and intelligent their pups would be. Fuckin’ ‘ell.

“Was’the plan?”

Because there was always a plan and Simon would follow Price into hellfire if he asked. 

“Thought about sending you away, reassigning you,” Price said, his gaze flicking up to level Simon with a pensive look. “Bu’ I couldn't. Need ya. 141 needs ya.” 

Simon realised he could breathe again. The mere idea that Price would send him away - to fuckin’ where? No reasonable officer would take him on - left him frozen, every muscle seizing like he'd been turned to stone. Need ya.

Not just the 141. But Price. Price needed him.

“Then wot? Wot we doin’ ‘ere?” Simon’s voice crackled, the words cloying in his throat.

That grimace was back. A pinched look of regret pulled Price’s lips back, his eyes squinting. He scrubbed a hand over his beard and breathed in a deep breath through his nose. “Gonna ask ya sommin’. Ya can say no. S’your right t’ say no. Ya’understand?”

Simon’s fingers clenched into his palms, and he dipped his chin in a barely perceptible nod. 

“This… whatever it is. Could put ‘em danger, Johnny, Gaz, any soldier we have with us. It's foggin’ our minds, distractin’ us. I can't afford that in the field,” Price spoke slowly, like he was trying to reason with himself as well as Simon. “Way I see it is we need t’ nip it in the bud. Best way to do that is give it what it needs. A bond.”

An errant gust of wind could have knocked Simon to the floor at that moment. Like a giant rotten oak tree barely clinging on in the soil. His mouth went dry, huffing in another deep lungful of Price's scent as his heart accelerated in his chest. 

“I know ‘m askin’ a lot of ya. More an’ I ever have. But what we do, the greater good we fight for, s’too important t’--”

“Yeah.”

“Wot?”

“Yeah, I'll do it. I wan’ it. Wan’ you.” The confession tripped out of Simon's mouth before he could stop it. He stepped up to the desk, his hands planting on the surface, which, in hindsight, had probably been a poor choice. He watched Price tense in his chair briefly, before he slowly rose to his feet, weathered palms planting opposite Simon's to level him with a stern look.

“That's the hormones talkin’. Ya need t’ think it through.”

“Naw, I don’t,” Simon said, studying the freckles on Price's face, the sun damage on his forehead, the wrinkles around bright blue eyes, strong jaw framed by his uneven beard. A face he linked with safety and certainty and leadership. “S'you, s’always been you.”

Price dropped his eyes away, his head hanging for a moment, the sigh that followed sounded dog tired. When he looked up, those blue eyes had hardened, the light dulled.. “Simon, ya committin’ to a bond. S’for life. And ya not gettin’ a sweet thing that’ll fawn over ya. I'm not gonna give ya a pup, no family of yer own, ‘m not gonna kneel for ya, not gonna walk barefoot round yer kitchen, do ya laundry. ‘m not some pretty arm piece, Simon. Few years of lookin’, ya might find yerself a proper mate.”

“Don't care ‘bout any of that. Never have.” 

“Because ya never gave yerself a chance,” Price growled, rubbing at his face again. “Take a day. Think about it. Fer…” he swallowed, “...fer me, if not for yerself.”

Simon could smell something new. It was bitter on the back of his tongue. Distress. He lifted one of his hands without thinking, reaching for Price's face, but the captain flinched back. It was an involuntary response and Simon hated himself for causing it. “Sorry,” he grunted, fingers curling into his palm. 

“S’fine, jus’...” Price stood up straight, adjusting his t-shirt, thumbs hooking in his belt. Recovering himself, “...go, fink it over, don't give me an answer ‘til tomorrow after work.” 

“Right.” Simon stepped back from the desk even though every instinct was screaming at him to protect Price from whatever was causing that smell. There was no immediate threat so he couldn't even fight something; his entire skill set rendered useless in the face of whatever battle was going on inside Price's head. “See you for mornin’ briefing, sir.”

Price nodded. Simon left.

He didn't sleep that night. He stared up into the gloomy grey above his bed, wholly fixated on the parting image of Price, his face pinched, his scent riddled with distress and misery. He didn't want this, did he? Didn't want Simon like Simon wanted him. But what was new? Simon was perpetually unwanted. It was the story of his life. 

This was the right thing though. For the 141 and, Simon knew, for him. A mate like Price was more than he could have ever aspired to in normal circumstances. He had resigned himself to dying unbonded, to never experiencing what it felt like to be one with another person, to hear their voice and feel peace, to smell their scent and feel joy, to taste their skin, hold them, and feel whole. 

He had given himself to Price in all but bond anyway. This was a natural next step, even if Price himself seemed conflicted. It was an imperfect solution, riddled with grey, the cracks in the facade papered over, but that was them through and through.

The following day went by slower than a slug crawling across a salt flat. Price was nowhere to be found, sequestered away in his office while he tried to tidy up urgent matters before his three days of booked leave. Simon ran courses with the new batch of rookies up for selection and sparred with Johnny in the gym. The opportunity to exercise his physicality was welcome. His body was strong, capable, the best part of him. The part of him that would serve Price loyally. 

After dinner, Simon headed back to Price's office and tapped the door. The voice from the other side sounded even more exhausted than it had the night before. “Simon,” Price said, not looking up from the form in front of him. “Got yer answer then?”

“Yeah,” Simon said, “it's a yes. I accept. I… wan’ to bond with ya.”

Price placed his pen down slowly and leaned back in his chair. There was sweat on his temples and Simon could smell him even stronger than the day before. Fuckin’ delicious. “Right,” Price said. “Simon, you, uh… you need to know my heat, it's uhm… I find it difficult. Never shared it with anyone before.”

Simon could see Price's discomfort. How much he hated exposing this vulnerability. He sniffed, scratched his chin, and finally looked up at Simon's masked face. Simon blinked slowly. “S’ok. We’ll take it at your pace. You headin’ off tonight?”

Price glanced at the duffel bag on the chair by the window and nodded. “Yeah. You, uh… we can wait ‘til next time if you were savin’ yer leave for somethin’ special.”

“Naw, I'm good. You alright to put it through so I can go shove some pants in a bag?”

Price huffed. “Fuckin’ ‘ell, not only approvin’ your leave requests but now I'm fillin’ ‘em in for you lazy bastards.” He tapped at his keyboard and jutted his chin at the door. “G'won. Leavin’ base at nine. Don't be late.”

Simon left Price to do his paperwork and headed back to his quarters. He grabbed some underwear, some clean t-shirts and a pair of flannel shorts, his headphones and the Asimov paperwork he was chewing through at the average pace of a single page every three days. Omegas needed to sleep at some point, right? 

The final hour for departure sped by and soon Simon was heading out into the base car park to find Price's old Land Rover chugging away on the tarmac. Price sat in the driver's seat, wrapped in his coat and scarf, beanie pulled low over his ears, breathing into his hands.

“All good?” Price asked as Simon climbed into the passenger seat.

“Yeah. You… uh, you ok to drive?”

Price’s jaw twitched and Simon regretted opening his stupid fucking mouth. “Yeah. Fine. Stupor will set in later. Once I'm…” his voice dropped, “nesting.” He said it like it was an embarrassing admission, not a natural part of his instincts and cycle. Simon didn't probe any further and sat in silence as Price pushed the Landie into first and pulled away. The drive into town was quiet. Price turned on the radio once they'd pulled off base and they listened to the latest chart on BBC Hereford & Worcester. 

Price had a little one bedroom flat in Leominster that he commuted from most days. Sometimes he kipped over in the barracks after a long shift and it wasn't unusual to find him asleep in the rec room if a briefing had over run and he was too tired to drive back. The 141 knew it well as they had spent their ruts there since they'd joined the task force. It was cozy, clean, with traces of their captain as a man rather than a legend. 

When Simon stepped through the front door, the Land Rover tucked up for the night in the carport, he drew in a deep breath and felt his eyes flutter. He shed his coat and kicked his boots off and watched with no small amount of affection as Price grabbed them immediately to stack next to his, before slipping into a pair of well trodden slippers. “Brew?” Price asked as they headed into the open plan living room.

“Yeah, gaspin’,” Simon said, placing his duffel down by the arm of the couch before slumping into the middle of it. The material was a well worn brushed cotton, with two tartan fleece blankets thrown over the back. Simon pulled his mask over his head and ruffled a hand through his flattened hair, before burying his newly naked face into the scent of Price soaked into the soft material. He could picture him here in the evenings, wrapped up and snoozing, probably snoring his bloody head off like he did on op. But relaxed, at home, nested.

“Yer like a fuckin’ bloodhound,” Price grumbled as he walked over, a steaming mug of tea clutched in each hand. 

“I ain't drinkin’ outta that Liverpool mug.”

“Ahh, wind yer neck in, it's mine.” Price dumped the other mug on the coffee table in front of Simon, and then fell into the armchair. Still keeping a slight distance. This was different from when they met to weather Simon's rut. Simon was the vulnerable one in that and he trusted Price implicitly, but now their roles were reversed, and Price wasn’t used to not holding the leash. 

Simon slurped a mouthful of tea - perfect brew, strong, two sugars - and glanced at the telly when Price switched it on. The ten o’clock news, a slew of reports about how the world was going to shit and the rich were benefiting from it. Simon was only half paying attention, maybe not even half, because from the corner of his eye he was observing Price. 

He was slumped low in the chair, his lips parted, his eyes misty. The scent rolling off of him was saccharin, deeply appealing, and Simon's fingers twitched against the warm ceramic of his mug. Price managed to finish his before his eyes slid closed, his breathing growing a little ragged as his fingers kneaded at the arms of his chair. “Captain?” Simon prompted, his mug landing softly on a coaster. 

“Yeah, I'm good…”

“D’ya need anythin’?”

Price swallowed, observing Simon from beneath low lashes. A grimace passed over his face, his thighs pushing together. “Gonna shower… there's scran in the fridge, help yasel’.” His accent thickened briefly as his mind struggled to find purchase, and Simon watched him head into the bedroom with a faint smile. He listened to Price move around his bedroom through the wall, and then the rush of water as he turned the shower on. 

How long did he wait? Did he coax? It was usually easier than this. Price led the way, tugging Simon's clothes off, praising him in that rough, no-nonsense way he had; stable, certain. This Price was different. He was distant, anxious, even. Simon waited until the stream of water was disrupted, sloshing against the glass and tiles, before he rolled to his feet.

Maybe it was a shitty thing to do, but he knew he needed to do something. Price was clearly struggling. Limping through the last few hours before his heat settled in and dreading every moment of it. Simon pulled his clothes off, folding them over the laundry basket near the bedroom door, before he walked into the bathroom. He found Price panting in the steam, his hands against the wall as the water streamed down his freckled back, head bowed low between his shoulders.

He wasn't quiet as he slid the glass shower door to the side and slipped into the cubicle, his palm sliding over Price's ribs to glide up his chest. Price startled with a snarl, twisting around to latch a hand around Simon's throat as the other snatched his wrist. “Easy,” Simon whispered, airways restricted as Price squeezed. “Lemme help. Not gonna hurt ya, John.”

Price's shoulders heaved, blue eyes bright and feverish. Simon leaned into the palm at his throat and realised Price’s arm gave. He was shaking. Simon slid a palm up the tiles and eased Price back against his forearm as he pushed further, closer, until his lips slotted to Price’s and his tongue swept into his mouth. Simon used his greater height and bulk to his advantage, enveloping Price in his arms and drawing him into the warmth of his body, hand sliding down his back to his arse to bring their hips together.

Price was skittish, he wanted the kiss but kept drawing back before licking forward again, like he was clinging onto the cliff edge by his fingernails. His hands scrambled over Simon's chest, pushing him, gripping him, uncertain how to respond to the alpha swamping him. Price wasn't small, not by any standard, but Simon had a little extra, enough to cradle him, make him feel safe. Where Price was athletic and lean in his height and strength, Simon was bulky. Lots for a hungry omega to sink his teeth into.

“Simon…” Price grunted, tensing up as Simon's mouth kissed down his throat to the slope of his neck where his gland sat beneath his skin. His nails bit into Simon's shoulders, lips peeling back in a low growl. “Don't… not… not ready, can't…”

“S’ok, I know,” Simon murmured. “Relax. Need ya t’ trust me. Not gonna hurt ya.”

“‘m… don't judge me, for…”

“Not gonna. None o’ this will make me think anythin’ less of you, sir. S’a gift.”

Price flinched. “S’a curse. I… I fuckin’ hate it.”

“I know,” Simon murmured, opening his mouth to suckle on Price’s neck as he caressed up and down his body. Every pass of his palms over flushed skin seemed to be easing the tension, gentling him into his heat. His touch only paused to grab the soap and shampoo, washing Price tenderly, encouraged by the way he arched and writhed beneath the smooth glide of skin on skin. Simon worshipped every scar, every mole, every dip and curve of muscle. Those ragged pants broke around soft whimpers and soon the steam was saturated with the scent of an aroused omega’s heat. 

When his fingers slipped over the full curve of Price’s arse to the crease of his thigh, Price’s foot shifted out, inviting Simon's caress between his legs. Simon gladly provided, fingertips stroking gently over slick folds, pressing a little firmer with each pass until he was teasing Price's hole, tight muscles fluttering at Simon's finger in eager anticipation. “Fuck… you're wet…”

“‘m.. in the shower..” Price rasped, sounding dazed, and Simon smiled against his neck. Tentative hands began to explore Simon’s body, following familiar paths around his full tits and down his stomach to the thick, hot length of his erection pressing into Price’s hips. Simon shifted his own until his shaft could slide between Price's thighs. Spread as they were, it was just a tease, the ridge of his crown drawing back and forth over Price's slit, glans catching across the swell of his own small cock and making him stutter. 

Simon moaned into Price’s neck, the scent, the heat, the feeling of Price's strong body yielding to him inch by inch, it was a heady mix that was teasing him higher into feverish excitement. But he couldn't knot Price here. The first one took a while to go down and he didn't fancy keeping six foot plus of omega pinned to cold tiles while they waited for the tie to end. 

Simon drew Price out of the water and wrapped him in the warm towel from the radiator. The bedroom was warm, the bed even warmer as Simon lowered Price into it, tugging the towel into the floor, and nudging his thighs apart as he leaned down for a kiss. Simon ground his cock through Price's folds, smearing slick and precum over flushed hot skin. Price arched, opening his hips and hitching his legs high up Simon's sides. 

Simon gathered one of Price’s hands and wound their fingers together, pressing them into the mattress above Price's head as he reached down to guide his cock. He held it steady as he thrust his tip into the tight clutch of Price's body, teasing back and forth. It was sweet, sweet torture.

“Simon, hnn, ahh… please…”

“Tell me ya wan’ this.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck… ahh, please…”

“Yer fuckin’ gorgeous, sir. Look at you.”

Simon kissed him, sucking his lips, his tongue, but drew back when he began to thrust in deeper. He wanted to watch Price’s face as he was taken for the first time. The way it relaxed in bewildered pleasure, blue eyes rolling; glistening, kiss-swollen lips parting as a low moan trembled from his chest. Simon bottomed out, his balls pressed to the underside of Price's arse, full and heavy in the heat. 

He had never wanted to knot and breed so much in his life. Not even in the chokehold of rut did the urge feel this strong. The scent of heat soaked his tongue, cloyed in his throat, and as Simon began to thrust deep into Price's body, the snug, warm grip of it sucking so eagerly on the thick girth of his prick, Price finally relaxed, his head tilting back as he panted and moaned. 

The sheets dampened beneath his arched back, Simon's hand slipping beneath him, encouraging the curve of his spine as Simon sat up on his knees, drawing Price up onto his lap to bounce him down onto his cock with his furred chest pressed up and open, letting Simon suck and kiss his full tits, his dusky nipples pebbled hard in arousal as tongue and teeth swept over them.

Price clenched a hand in Simon’s hair, the other dropping behind him to support his weight against the mattress so he had agency in the roll of his hips, meeting each of Simon’s thrusts over his sweet spot. Now that he didn't need both hands to support Price’s body, Simon snuck one between them, thumb rubbing the swell of Price’s leaking cock.  Price got loud, more than the stifled pants of their usual trysts. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck–”

Price's thighs pushed wide as his orgasm curled through him, sinking down until every inch of Simon’s thick cock was inside him. Simon ground in, growling low in his chest as he felt Price pulse and throb around his cock, slick dripping down his balls and thighs. Price was completely lost in pleasure, fockin’ beautiful, flushed and euphoric. He didn't fight when Simon shifted him onto his front and raised his hips, mounting him while on his feet, two big hands pressing down on his waist. Price dropped his chest to the bed and spread his knees wide, cocking his hips so that Simon could thrust deep. It was a natural breeding position and Simon's arousal intensified, cock rock hard as his omega presented. 

Watching Price's back muscles flex, his arse cheeks ripple under the force of Simon's thrusts, hearing his blissed out noises as they were punched from his chest, soon teased Simon's knot out of him. It swelled just as Price's second orgasm tightened his hole, and Simon ground forward, circling his hips until it popped inside clenching muscle. 

Price cried out, his orgasm intensifying as his body pulsed, instinctually milking Simon for every drop as he came. It was intense; mind-fuckingly good. Simon scrunched his eyes closed and saw lights behind his lids, and he listened as Price’s gravelly voice broke and whimpered through the swells of pleasure rolling through him.

When the aftershocks calmed, Simon eased them onto their sides, wrapping Price in his arms as his knot stayed snug inside his body. He pressed kisses into his damp hair, teased sensitive skin, and whispered praise. They dozed like that, surfacing to exchange lazy kisses before drifting off again. When Simon's knot went down, he drew out gently, only to replace his cock with his fingers. Price's hole was sloppy, loose and relaxed, and Simon groaned low in his throat. “Gonna breed you, love. Gonna make you mine.”

Price chuffed softly in response, thighs flopping open so that Simon could caress him properly, pushing his leaking seed back inside. Simon didn't need asking twice.

They mated throughout the night into the early morning. Simon left the bed long enough to get some food and water, and helped Price with both as the haze of heat made his movements sluggish. After a few hours of sleep, Simon woke him with another knot, holding him back to chest as he slid into him from behind. Each knot was a thorough breeding, their hormones, their scents, their bodies mixing until Price was ready to be bonded. 

Simon was hilt deep when he finally sank his teeth into Price's gland. His omega draped over him, back to chest, strong body arched in submission. Simon cupped beneath a thigh, thrusting into him with a semi-inflated knot that was making his eyes roll in overwhelming bliss. He tilted his head away under the guidance of Simon's hand at his chin, and Simon finally claimed the object of his desire, knot swelling inside him and triggering an intense wave of pleasure that made Price's body seize up.

The wound stopped bleeding as Simon licked it. He remembered vaguely reading something about alpha's having a clotting agent in their saliva sparked by the process of mating. Price’s pained huffs faded into softer sighs, and Simon held him as his body adjusted to the sudden surge of hormones in his bloodstream. Simon slid his palm over Price’s belly and cupped beneath its slight swell. 

“I know ‘m not your first choice,” Simon whispered in the quiet, his throat hoarse. “But…”

“Simon,” Price murmured, soft, wistful. “You're it. Jus’... always thought ya deserved better ‘an me.”

Simon's heart clenched in his chest, his nose burying in Price's hair. “Ain't nothin’ better ‘an you.”

“Got… bad taste in clothing and men, that bloody bally…”

“Olrigh’ boonie hat,” Simon chuckled, rocking his hips up a little in revenge. Price groaned, his body bearing down around Simon’s knot in a sudden throb of pleasure. “Heard bonded mating is a whole new level, but this… fuck, the noises you make.”

Price huffed softly. “Gettin’ a big head, Riley…”

“Naw, reckon I'm on the money, maybe I need t’ remind you again.” Simon slid a hand down Price's body to stroke his cock, rolling his hips slowly to grind his knot over Price's sweet spot, the stretch just the right side of too much. Price gasped, his back arching, and Simon clamped an arm around his chest to keep him still, giving him no choice but to endure the heated pleasure curling through his hips.

They had another day and a half to secure their bond before they had to return to work, and in that time, Simon would make sure Price never had a reason to dread his heat again. 

[yapuniversity]

thinking about sweet boyfriend nanami who worries too much about you when you’re on your periods. “are you okay, baby?” he asks in that sweet, deep voice of his. you can't help but smile at his expression - his cute brows frowning together and his pretty lips pressed in a thin line out of concern. you cup his face in your palms and gently place a kiss on his forehead, reassuring him. “i’m fine, love.”

he rests himself on his knees in front of you while you’re sitting on the sofa. his arms placed on your hips possessively as he caresses your soft skin under his fingertips. “is your tummy hurting?” he asks, not convinced with your answer. your stomach was, in fact hurting. but looking at his growing concern over you, you couldn't help but lie. even though you liked the fact that nanami was constantly checking up on you ever since you hit your monthly cycle, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt eating you alive anytime he took a break from his work to look after you. yes, you did admire the fact that he cared about you and took mini breaks in between to make sure that you were fine. but you were worried that you were getting in the way of his work.

but of course, being the sweet and loving boyfriend nanami is, he constantly assured you that you were not in the way of his work and that he wanted to take care of you. he needed to take care of you.

“you’re my entire world, sweetheart,” he’d say every time you spoke about this matter. “i can't bear the thought of you being in pain. let me take care of you, please.” he’d say, his eyes never leaving your face. and everytime he looked at you like that, you knew that there was nothing but love behind those captivating hazel-coloured eyes of his.

so, when a “yes” slipped out of your lips - when asked if your stomach was hurting, he swiftly got up on his feet and lifted you in his arms, his grip protective.

“you rest. i’ll bring the hot water bag, okay?” he says, his words coming out more like a command rather than a suggestion. you have no other option but to stay quiet and obey. and you had to admit it, you liked it when he spoke to you in that tone. you liked the idea of him being in control. you liked the idea of him proving his affection towards you.

you see, nanami’s second most evident love language is acts of service and no doubt, the first one being physical touch. and then comes words of affirmation. but, he’s obviously never told this to you because he has never shown anyone this side of him. you on the other hand have noticed each and every one of his move. “i have never felt like this for anyone,” he’d say, and you could see the truth in his words. he’d made it clear from the start that he was a sucker for you, and only you alone.

he opens the door to your room and gently places you on the bed, making sure you’re comfortable. “you comfortable, baby?” he asks and when you nod a “yes”, he pulls the covers over you.

“i’ll be right back,” he says and a small smile spreads across his lips when he sees you opening your mouth to ask him where he's going, but he places a finger on your lips and says, “nuh-uh. no questions, no arguments. do you trust me?”

the question catches you off-guard. trust him? of course you trust him. you trust him more than anyone in your life. you trust him more than you trust yourself.

“of course i do,” you say, defensively.

nanami can't help but grin at your words. “then wait for me,” he says and kisses your temple. you don't say anything because you know that he wouldn't listen to you. especially after you told him that you trusted him.

ten minutes pass by and you were almost about to fall asleep but then you see nanami coming into your room, a hot water bag in one hand and a massaging oil in the other. he sits next to you, his weight compressing the mattress ever so slightly under him. he pulls the covers down to your hips and places the bag on your stomach. “does that feel better?” he asks. the warmth of the bag almost gives you an instant relief from your pain and nanami notices this. “see, i told you that you could trust me,” he says proudly and you can't help but grin at his words.

“do you want me to massage your stomach? for some relief?” he asks, taking your hand in his and intertwining his fingers with yours. his gaze never leaves your face and you almost feel shy. he’s been your man for a long time now but the feelings you have for him are still the same as when you first met him. raw, beautiful, and intense.

a “no” somehow comes out of you and he nods in understanding.

you suddenly wake up to the bag being lifted from your stomach and you immediately look at nanami. you had no recollection of falling asleep. “shit,” you curse under your breath and nanami’s gaze immediately meets yours, his expression looking like he's been craving to hear your voice for a long time now.

“sorry, i didn't mean to wake you up,” he says and places the bag at your bedside table.

“how long was i out for?” you ask, lifting your body up and resting on your elbows.

“almost an hour,” nanami responds nonchalantly.

“what were you doing for so long?”

“watching you sleep,” he says, shyness in his voice.

your face turns red at his words and you say, “im so sorry i kept you waiting.”

“you didn't, doll,” nanami says almost immediately.

you let out a heavy sigh and you hear nanami ask, “how are you feeling?”

you subconsciously place a hand on your stomach and say, “better. much better.”

nanami’s lips curves upward into a smile. he walks over to you and gets on top of you, pressing his needy lips against yours. his gesture takes you by surprise but you could almost immediately sense the feeling of urgency in his touch, almost like he's been holding himself back from kissing you like this. you kiss him back with the same intensity and after a few seconds, he reluctantly pulls away. a disappointed expression immediately takes over your face and this makes nanami chuckle.

“i'm not moving too fast, am i?” he asks, hesitantly.

“shut up and kiss me,” you say almost immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck and crashing your lips against his. he kisses you back with the same eagerness and cups your face in his palms. he pulls back once more and this time you can't help but feel irritated.

“why do you keep pulling back?” you ask, angrily.

“because i’m afraid i’m putting too much pressure on you,” he says, reluctantly.

“you’re not, nanami. kiss me, please.”

nanami couldn't hold back anymore. he grabs your face and hungrily slams his lips onto yours. he parts your lips with his tongue and lets out a low satisfied growl when he gets a taste of you. he presses his body against yours and you could instantly feel the bulge in his pants. your arousal heightens and you wrap your legs around his waist, pressing his hot and heavy bulge on your innocent cunt.

you pull away from his lips and beg, “fuck me, please.”

nanami pants against your lips and you could feel his cock twitch at your words. “no, baby,” he says, biting his lips as he tries to control himself.

“why?” you ask, your voice breaking.

nanami’s face evidently flinches at your broken voice. a pained expression taking over his face. “as much as i want to, love- i cant. it’ll be too much for you and your body is already delicate and sensitive since you’re on your periods. i don't want to hurt you.”

you sigh in defeat because you know he's right. and you know that he never denies your needs. but when he does, you know it's for your good.

“you’re right,” you say in a low and sad voice.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he says and you can feel the genuine guilt in his voice.

he kisses your neck in appreciation. he lifts himself from your body and you feel your thighs aching at the absence of his touch. but unbeknownst to you, nanami gently lifts up your shirt and looks at your exposed stomach. he places his hand on your stomach and feels your warmth under his palm. he brings his head down and gently brushes his lips on your exposed skin, nuzzling his face here and there in order to envelop into your scent. he then rests his head on your stomach and looks up at you with affection in his eyes. “i love you,” he says, almost in a whisper.

your eyes soften at his words.

“i love you too,” you say as a smile spreads across your face.

a small grin plays at the corner of nanami’s lips.

you brush your fingers against his hair and he closes his eyes at your contact. he hums in satisfaction under your touch.

do not plagiarise, copy, translate or repost my works on any platform!!!

divider credit - @xurengu0 <3

[meazalykov]

thirst

catarina macario x chelsea!reader

summary: too focused on the game, you forgot to focus on yourself

warnings: angst, fainting, reader passing out, period/menstrual

you woke up to an ache low in your abdomen that made you want to stay in bed for at least another hour. the pain was sharp, almost like your body was protesting the fact that it was morning. 

as you curled into yourself, the realization hit—your period had arrived. the timing couldn't have been worse. today was matchday, and not just any matchday. you were playing manchester city, one of the most crucial games of the season. 

this wasn’t a day for excuses or slowing down. you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to sit up despite the persistent ache.

the sunlight streamed through your bedroom window, and your phone buzzed on the nightstand. grabbing it, you saw a message from catarina:  

good morning, amor 

see you out there today. crush it like you always do. i love you <3

you smiled softly, her message giving you a small boost of motivation despite how miserable you felt. cat always knew how to make things feel better, even with a simple text. still, the cramps were unrelenting, and you knew they weren’t going anywhere. 

you rubbed your stomach absentmindedly, silently cursing your body for betraying you on such an important day.

there was no time to dwell on it. as you glanced at the clock, panic set in—you were running late. the usual routine of stretching, eating breakfast, and hydrating with a pitcher of water was completely out the window. 

you threw on your chelsea training hoodie, grabbed your bag full of necessities, and rushed out the door without a second thought. breakfast and water would have to wait. the match was all that mattered right now.

by the time you arrived at stamford, the atmosphere was attractive. fans were already filtering into the stands, their excitement palpable. matchdays like these were why you loved football. the energy, the stakes, the chance to prove yourself—it was what you lived for.

 the discomfort in your stomach was shoved to the back of your mind as you focused on the task at hand. this game was about keeping chelsea at the top of the league table. nothing else mattered. not even your discomfort.

in the locker room, the pre-game excitement was contagious. your teammates were focused but relaxed, their confidence filling the space. you could feel your own adrenaline building, pushing past the lingering ache in your body. as a midfielder, you thrived on being the engine of the team, the player who could shift the momentum with a single play. against a team like manchester city, your tactical mind and speed were going to be crucial.

before you stood up to get into the tunnel, you felt a hand on your shoulder. you turned around to see catarina, who you gave a light smile to before giving her a light peck on the lips. 

“have fun out there, ok?” the american says. 

“sure will.” you gave a fake smile, still ignoring the cramps that were now traveling up your back. 

the whistle blew to start the first half, and the game was as intense as you’d expected. city pressed high, their forwards like miedema and roord were relentless in their pursuit of the ball. you tracked back tirelessly, intercepting passes and closing down angles with precision. 

your vision on the field was sharp, your decision-making quick. when you threaded a perfect through ball to ramirez, the roar of the crowd was deafening as she slotted it past the keeper.

one-nil to chelsea.

the pressure didn’t let up. miedema, city’s forward, was a constant threat. her pace and precision forced your defense to stay on high alert. you found yourself marking her more than once, your legs burning as you kept pace with her runs. 

the cramps in your abdomen were a dull throb now, but you ignored them. you couldn’t afford to slow down, not in a game like this.

by halftime, you were drenched in sweat, your legs heavy but your heart still pounding with adrenaline. in the locker room, you downed a small cup of water, but it barely made a dent in the dryness of your throat. 

you didn’t think about eating the small tray of fruit that laid on the table in the dressing room, despite the gnawing emptiness in your stomach. the game was all-consuming, and you were determined to see it through.

the second half was even more intense. manchester city came back with a vengeance, determined to equalize. you threw yourself into every play, your body running on pure determination. 

around the 70th minute, though, things started to feel... off.

at first, you thought it was just nerves. your stomach growled loudly, but you brushed it off as pre-match jitters lingering in your system. then, your vision started to blur slightly around the edges. your legs felt heavier than usual, each step taking more effort than it should have. 

you blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness.

miedema came charging down the right flank, the ball at her feet. instinct took over as you stepped in, timing your tackle perfectly to steal the ball. you turned, looking for an outlet, and spotted ramirez making a run down the center. with a quick pass, you sent the ball her way. but as soon as the ball left your foot, your legs gave out.

you didn’t feel yourself hit the ground. 

when you opened your eyes, the world was a blur of bright lights and muffled sounds. your head was pounding, and your entire body felt drained. the first thing you recognized was nusken’s face hovering above you, her expression a mix of worry and relief.

“y/n, can you hear me?” her voice was soft, almost hesitant. 

“you’re okay. just stay still.”

you blinked slowly, your mind struggling to piece together what had happened. the medic was leaning over you, checking your pulse and murmuring instructions to someone nearby.

“what happened?” you managed to croak, your throat dry and scratchy.

“you’ve fainted,” nusken said, squeezing your hand gently. 

“just relax. we’ve got you.”

fainted. the word echoed in your mind as the memories came rushing back. the match, miedema, the ball leaving your foot, and then... nothing. embarrassment and guilt washed over you as you realized what must’ve happened in front of the entire stadium.

“where’s cat?” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“she’s on the bench,” the german replied. 

“she saw everything. she’s worried sick.”

on the bench, catarina had been frozen with fear the moment she saw you collapse. her first instinct was to run to you, but protocol kept her rooted in place. her hands were clenched tightly in her lap, her heart racing as the medics worked on you. 

seeing you, her strong and determined y/n, lying motionless on the pitch was a nightmare she couldn’t shake.

when the medic confirmed you were conscious, catarina felt a small wave of relief, but it wasn’t enough. she needed to see you, to know you were truly okay.

the final whistle blew, and chelsea secured a 3-1 victory, but catarina barely registered the result. all she could think about was you.

when catarina finally saw you in the medic area, the sight of you propped up on a cot with dark circles under your eyes made her heart ache. she sat down beside you silently, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of how you were feeling.

“how did the game go?” you asked, your voice weak but carrying a hint of your usual humor.

“we won. 3-1,” she said softly, her tone hesitant. 

“but let’s not pretend that’s the most important thing right now.”

you sighed, the guilt evident in your expression. “it’s my period,” you admitted quietly. 

“i wasn’t thinking. i forgot to eat or drink anything this morning.”

catarina’s brows furrowed in concern, her worry quickly mingling with frustration. 

“amor, you know you can’t do that. you can’t just forget to take care of yourself.”

you avoided her gaze, feeling like a scolded child. “i didn’t have time,” you muttered. 

“i was running late.”

she let out a deep sigh, running a hand through her hair. “you scared me, y/n. when i saw you go down like that... i thought...” her voice broke slightly, and she looked away, trying to compose herself.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your own voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to scare you.”

her gaze softened, and she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “your apology is forgiven once you start catching up on your hydration. deal?”

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips despite everything. 

catarina reached down and grabbed a plate wrapped in foil along with a water bottle. “i grabbed this for you from the lounge. i figured you’d need it.”

you unwrapped the foil to find your favorite meal—chicken and rice with a small bowl of strawberries on the side. your stomach growled loudly, and catarina couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“eat, amor,” she urged, handing you a fork. “and drink. all of it.”

as you ate, you felt a wave of gratitude for her. she didn’t have to do any of this, but she always did. she always cared, even when you didn’t.

“i’m really sorry,” you said again between bites. 

“i’ll be better about this. i promise.”

“you’d better,” she replied, her tone teasing but still laced with concern. 

“because if you scare me like that again, caoch and i will tie a water bottle to your wrist and a snack bag to your other hand.”

you laughed, the sound weak but genuine. “you’d really do that, wouldn’t you?”

“absolutely,” she said, leaning in to kiss your temple. “now finish eating. you need your strength.”

masterlist

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion)

Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. As common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition // Chapter III // Special Edition Pt. 2

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson flies to Italy to repair his relationship with Imani, while Genie gets closer to Ellington.

Warnings: smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you’re white and read it, you owe us $20), rough sex, p in v (naturally), oral (female receiving), squirting, creampie, aftercare – if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 5.5k // Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

CHAPTER IV: Insane / Wasted

she couldn't help but look at the images again. jameson had the kind of smile that lit up his whole face -- that was when he was truly happy. and he was smiling hard as fuck in the pictures. her eyes flitted to sloane's form, the hand against jameson's arm and the way it curved around his waist. she would never admit it to another soul...but they looked nice together. there was no love lost between she and sloane but imani didn't hate her until this exact moment.

"stop looking." genie told her and immediately immediately shoved her phone under the pillow.

"i wasn't." she lied. "fuck jameson and that bitch."

it had been genie who told her about the pictures -- warning her before she did something stupid like text jameson and tell him that she missed him. it was small but she was grateful that her best friend hadn't tried to talk her into anything. she listened to her rant, agreed not to answer the phone for jameson, and immediately set about distracting her.

despite being in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, her mind had nothing but images of jameson. she'd had a spark of hope in her heart that they would possibly figure shit out this time around but it was so damn hard expecting him to do the right thing. listening to his excuses and reasons why it was everyone else's fault but his got exhausting and imani didn't want to hear that shit. she focused on the outfits that she and genie were pulling together for her italian promo tour.

jameson had even gone silent for damn near a day. no calls, no texts. even that pissed her the fuck off. almost as if the thought of him summoned the man, imani felt the phone under her pillow began to vibrate. somehow or another, she knew it was him. she and genie both knew and they ignored the vibrating echoing throughout the room.

a minute passed then genie's phone rang out loud, her gaze darted to imani's before she cleared her throat. "don't answer him, genie." imani said sternly, sitting up in bed. sure enough, she watched as genie swiped her finger across the screen and the phone went silent. for a minute or two, there was total silence between them...before the phone in the suite began to ring.

it felt like a scene out of a horror movie. he just wouldn't leave her alone and imani had had enough. she climbed from the bed and stomped her way through the suite. by the time she made it to the phone, she was practically breathing fire. "hello?!" she answered tersely, ready to curse jameson's ass out but she was greeted with the sound of a friendly front desk clerk.

"buonasera, signorina. i am most sorry to trouble you this evening but i am afraid we have a situation." the voice said, the english heavily accented with italian.

"oh. oh, i'm sorry." imani immediately apologized, guilt pushing her to say more but she was cut off.

"my manager would like to call la polizia but the signore asked for you personally and i thought we should be sure before we did so." the voice continued -- a woman from what imani could tell.

"i don't understand what you saying. call the police? for what?" confusion was written all over her face as imani brought her gaze up from the phone. genie came flying down the hall, phone against her ear and imani got distracted by her. she caught the words "you make my ass hurt!" from genie before the other girl was stomping past her and towards the front door.

"signorina?" "i'm sorry. what did you say?" "signore lucas says that you are expecting him but he cannot remember your room number. if he is inconveniencing you, we will have no problem calling la polizia." "call the cops on signore lucas. do what y’all need to do. i don’t care. thank you!”

imani hung the phone up, hands on her hip as she walked around the empty space. she had no idea where genie had gone but it was probably to save jameson from an italian jail. “that dumb ass nigga really flew his ass to rome.” she muttered to herself. washing her hands of jameson always seemed so complicated but as she decided to take a bath, it felt pretty damn easy.

the only reason genie answered the phone was because imani left the room. it was a betrayal of her best friend, sure, but she wanted to hear an explanation from jameson. probably more than imani did. there was love lost between she and sloane. jameson was practically her brother and she wanted to know what the fuck he was doing with the enemy -- even if he didn't know she was the enemy.

"imani doesn't want to--" "what floor?" "huh?" "what. floor. are. you. on?" jameson asked. "jamie, tell me you didn't come here." "you not gone tell me?" "no!" "okay. that's fine."

he went quiet for a moment before genie heard a knock on the other end of the phone. she heard him introduce himself to a stranger and then ask "is imani in there? she gasped out loud. "jameson, stop that! stop it! you're going to get in trouble."

he didn't say a word to her and she heard him continue to move from one door to the next, asking anybody who opened it the very same question: "is imani in there?"

"stop it!" "are you going to tell me?" "what floor are you on? i'll come get you, damn it." "fifth. i know she likes a view." "oh now you're interested in what she likes?" "i lost her once, genie. i'm not about to lose her again. especially over some shit that's a misunderstanding." "so you weren't on a date with sloane?" "of course not. c'mon. you know sloane! you know she--" "i do. i know her better than you do, jamie. it hurt imani to see those pictures. you weren't doing anything but you have to understand...she's in a very difficult situation with you. she wants to believe you but she's scared. and you don't make the shit any easier." "that's not what i'm trying to do. i--"

"excuse me, sir? are you a guest here?"

genie knew that was no good. she jumped up from her seat, moving through the suite. imani may not want to see him but something had to give before he caused a damn international incident. genie hustled past imani, not even realizing she was still on the phone or what the conversation was. her slippers practically hissed against the floor as she left the suite, took the elevator to the fifth floor, and got there just in time to see security grasping jameson's jacket. a concierge was with them and he seemed flustered by the situation.

jameson's phone was still at his ear but he wasn't talking to genie -- he was cursing. "you need to let my fucking jacket go. wrinkling my shit." he and imani were two peas in a damn pod. "i'm sorry. he's with me." genie did her best not to shout, getting a grasp of jameson's jacket herself. she pulled him in her direction, pleased to see that he stumbled toward her somewhat.

"we've had many complaints, signora." genie nodded her head, yanking jameson in her direction once again. security didn't let go and he didn't stumble this time. instead, jameson pulled his jacket from the other man's hand with the meanest mug on his face. genie knew he was about to say something stupid so she pinched his side before he could. "i understand." genie reassured the two men. "but he's with me. he's my brother. he's just...stupid."

the concierge and security guard glanced at each other -- almost as if they were trying to see if she was right about him. genie prayed jameson would stay quiet. she could feel his stare on the side of her face but kept her gaze on the guard. relief hit her hard with they nodded, a signal that she and jameson could leave. "thank you! thank you so much." genie said graciously, giving both men a smile. jameson let her lead him to the elevators -- her jacket still in his grasp until she pushed the button for the third floor.

finally, genie turned and met his gaze as the elevator doors closed. "hey, stupid."

the past twenty hours had been bullshit. that was the best way to sum it up: bullshit. he was sleep deprived, anxious, and annoyed as fuck but it was finally time to get this shit with imani settled. genie reluctantly lead him to their suite. when she swiped the keycard and pushed the door open, jameson didn't waste time stepping inside.

"hey." jameson turned to see that genie didn't follow him inside. "please get it right this time. i love you both. but i won't forgive you if you break her heart again." before jameson could reassure her, she shut the door and he was left alone with her words.

the suite was quiet, almost eerily so. maybe it was exhaustion settling in his bones but jameson was so damn tired of this shit. he was determined to get shit straight right then. jameson shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it across the back of a couch as he slowly made his way through the space.

his mouth opened to to call out for her but the way she was feeling meant that she might not answer. it wasn't until jameson heard water that he realized she was in the bathroom. he took a deep breath -- and then twisted the knob, surprised that it was unlocked. the further he moved into the room, the hotter it got.

then...there she was. soaking in warm water, covered in bubbles. her head rested against the rim of the tub. she turned her head, opened her eyes, and gave a little scream when she saw him standing there. for a moment, they simply stared at one another. her gaze swept his face, moving up to his hair -- or lack there of. he watched her eyes go wide before she pressed her lips together.

his gaze swept what he could see. her hair pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head. her hands and shoulders were clear of soapy bubbles but everything else was hidden. a wave of desire swept over him but jameson pushed it down -- ignored it and continued to move into the bathroom.

finally, they both found their voices at the exact same time.

"get out!" "i missed you."

imani blinked up at him before he saw the anger take over again. she opened her mouth to say something else but jameson spoke faster. "you got me on a plane halfway around the world, jetlagged as fucked. go ahead and yell. once you get it all out, we can talk about it." jameson took a seat on the floor next to the tub, leaning against the wall.

"i ain't got shit to say to you." "no? you don't want to call me a lying ass, cheating ass nigga? piece of shit? nothing?" "i don't expect you to do right. you never do." "i'm doing right now, imani. nothing happened with her." "i don't give a fuck." "yes you do. you love the fuck out of me. and i love the fuck out of you." "you--" "which is why...i would never fuck up like that again. i was in new york for an interview. sloane called. asked me to come by while she was working some deal. i did. we were there for all of ten minutes. i did nothing but talk about you. then we had lunch. then i left her at her hotel." "i don't care." "you do." "you can't tell me what the fuck i feel." "i can. because i know you."

her frustration built as he calmly refuted each retort. jameson could see it in her face. she was mad as fuck. she sat up straight, pressing her hands to the side of the tub and to get up and he stopped her by placing his hand on top of hers. "don't. finish your bath."

imani glared at him and pulled her hand away -- the movement was slow but full of resentment. it didn't matter that he had flown around the world with nothing in his hands. what mattered was that she was scared. she was angry. and it was his fault. for once, he was at a loss as to what to say to imani. she rose from the water anyway, stepping out of the tub and ignoring him as she wrapped herself in a robe.

jameson watched her silently before taking a deep breath. he got up from the floor and followed her out of the bathroom -- ready for round two.

"good...evening. it is evening in italy, right? the sun is still shining here."

ej answered the phone with a grin, pleased to hear from genie so soon even though he knew why she was calling. it was the first time he'd heard her voice over the phone and it made him smile to know that genie adesanya had called him.

"you tricked me." she said shortly, making him smile.

"no idea what you're talking about, baby. but since you called me -- i take it jamie made it safely." "this isn't about jamie! and stop calling me baby." "yes, ms. adesanya. if this isn't about jamie, what is it about?" "you! you tricked me. you made me tell you what hotel we were at." "jamie already knew! he told me." "liar. he didn't even know what floor we were on. he knocked on random people's doors asking for imani!"

she sounded as if she were pouting and the image of her doing so made ej grin. his best friend's shenanigans were only the cherry on top of the sundae. ej muted the phone, not wanting her to hear him laugh. the last thing he wanted was a lecture.

"okay. fine. i admit it. i tricked you. but i told you...that's my boy." "he almost ended up in an italian jail." "it's nothing. i got money. i coulda got my nigga out." "you're no help. you encourage his worse tendencies." "listen, i don't want him over there. i want him here. finishing his album. but he's stuck on mani. obsessed with the idea of getting it right with her. do i think it's possible? no. i think those two are too alike. something's gonna go wrong. but he's my best friend and i want to support him."

genie was silent for a moment before he heard her softly ask a question. "...you don't think they'll make it?"

ej winced, wishing he hadn't told her that. he didn't want to rain on her optimism. he liked how she seemed to see the best in everything and everybody. "i don't know, g. i hope so but i won't hold my breath over it."

"i think you're wrong." she said, her voice stronger than it had been before. "i think when you love like that -- truly and deeply -- there's nothing you wouldn't do to make it last. i believe him. he wants her back. and he's going to get her because she loves him too."

ej nodded even though she couldn't see him. "i want you to be right, baby." ej heard her snort before she spoke again. "i told you not to call me baby."

a grin spread across his lips as he nodded once again. "yes, ms. adesanya. now where are you? did our best friends kick you out of your room?"

she was flustered and annoyed with him but mostly with herself. having a reaction to jameson was never good. she tried so hard not to show him even a smidgen of feelings and failed every single time. fuck him! this was irritating. imani hadn't expected jameson to be in Italy, much less have the balls to come to her room. she came out of the bathroom looking for the genie and found the other woman gone. she couldn't help but feel somewhat betrayed.

"mani."

jameson followed behind her and imani redirected from the bedroom to the living room. the last thing they needed was to be in a room with a bed while she was naked. "i don't want to hear it, jamie." she said, suddenly exhausted. "we keep trying to make this work but maybe this isn't meant to be."

all they seemed to do was talk in circles, gas each other up, and then boom. reality came crashing down into their optimistic plans. she wasn't going to compete with a woman for jamie again. sloane could have him if she wanted him that damn bad.

"it's like you're not listening to me." jameson replied and imani realized it was true. she didn't want to hear it. she didn't want him to get her hopes up again. "i'm gonna make this shit work because all i've ever wanted is you. i got stupid and let my ego take over before. then i lost you. and i swear the past year has been so hard. i get my life from you, mani. this is where i want to be. don't shut me out. let me prove it."

she stood with her arms folded, glaring at him as he spoke. part of her melted -- just like she had before. she wanted him to fight for her. to prove that what she saw in him before their breakup had been real. but another part of her was sick of the rollercoaster. she wanted to get off it, would kill to be able to feel nothing when she saw him. there was so much she wanted to say but also nothing she could say at the same time.

"it can't be this easy all the time, jamie." she said softly, annoyed at the fact that he seemed to be able to unlock something in her. "you can't give me some bum ass speech every time and think everything is going to be okay because you love me. love isn't always enough and i'm tired of hearing it from you."

jameson moved closer to her, lifting his hands to show her that he was harmless -- as if that were fucking true. "i understand. so tell me. tell me what you need from me. what you need me to show you, baby? i'll do it. anything."

imani looked at him with distrust and confusion. he didn't touch her, he just...stood there with her. his hands were still up, making him appear as if he was trying to calm a scared, wounded animal. "put your hands down." she told him -- and was surprised by how quickly he did it. he didn't argue, he didn't make a joke. he just...did what she told him to. that was interesting. "tell me you're sorry. you said everything except that."

jameson's gaze softened as he nodded his head, realizing that he hadn't apologized for the misunderstanding or invading her privacy. "i'm sorry, baby. i'm so sorry. i shouldn't be here. i should have waited for you to come home. i should have been more considerate about how those pictures would make you feel. i'm sorry."

despite telling him that speeches wouldn't be enough -- imani knew she would relent. she didn't know if she was overreacting or not when it came to sloane. but even if she was...it felt good to hear him validate it. to tell her he was sorry for how he made her feel. instead of thanking him, imani let her gaze linger over his face. "you cut your hair."

jameson looked at her with surprise -- as if he hadn't expected her to acknowledge it right then. "yeah. i did."

"why?" imani asked him, fiddling with the tie that kept her robe closed tightly.

"i'm doing a movie. why do you ask? you like it?" "i guess. makes your ears look bigger." jameson laughed out loud, tsking softly. "okay, i deserved that."

imani gave a small smile, proud of herself for that the joke landed. she hadn't fully forgiven him but she could feel some of her agitation ease. whether that was a good thing or not -- she didn't know but of course, time would tell with jameson.

"...i'm still mad." imani told him, placing her hands against her hips. "don't think i'm not. or that you can just fly to me in the middle of the night and think i'll forgive you."

"i don't think that at all" jameson said softly as he took a step closer to her. imani didn't move away. instead, she dropped her hands, watching as he lifted his hand to press to her hip. "say you're sorry again." she demanded. he repeated the apology, leaning in to seal it with a kiss to her lips -- and imani allowed it. all of a sudden, she got an idea and knew he'd go along with it.

jameson breathed a sigh of relief when she let him kiss him. imani never did anything she didn't want to do. she couldn't be bullied or tricked -- she stood on shit. so jameson knew if she ever fully made up her mind to get rid of him? he was good as gone. he had spent a year trying to get back next to her. he wasn't going to lose that shot.

"eat my pussy"

imani spoke lowly but with conviction. jameson's gaze shot up to meet hers, wondering if he imagined she said the words. but he hadn't. she looked at him, brow raised as if she thought he'd have something to say in response. but he didn't. this is what she needed from him right then. she needed his devotion and his obedience. it wasn't like anything they had done before. usually, jameson was in control -- they both liked it that way. but he kind of liked this too.

jameson reached for the fuzzy tie keeping her robe closed. with one sharp tug, it fell open and exposed her body to him. he could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears as he took her in. her skin was smooth and soft. he could still smell the lavender of her bubble bath. pretty titties sat high with nipples already pointed. he hadn't even touched her yet and she was ready. it wasn't like he hadn't seen her undressed before. he'd had her spread open and calling his name a week ago but every time he got his hands on this girl, he lost his mind.

without hesitation, jameson fell to his knees and began to kiss at her thighs. by the time he lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder, her hands had his ears in a tight grip. he leaned in, mouth open and ready to taste before he felt her jerk his head backward. she almost lost her footing but remained stable as she stopped him from tasting her. "beg me for it."

he didn't waste his time arguing about it. he did what she asked -- and begged. "mani, please. i need you. i sat on a plane for seventeen hours. i don't have shit to wear but what i have on...and i don't give a fuck about any of that. i just want you to cum on my face. i'll make it good for you, baby." he didn't know it worked until she carefully pushed his head forward and wordlessly gave him the go-ahead.

jameson ran his tongue along her lips and up, parting her already wet folds with his tongue. the first touch of his tongue made her let jolt against his shoulder but she didn't stop him. not even when he began to lick, spread, and slurp at what she let rain down into his mouth. jameson hummed softly and happily, his hands finally lifting to grasp her ass. she tasted like water to a man who had been dying of thirst. he wanted to touch her everywhere. imani used his ears, dragging his head back and forth when his tongue swiped against her clit. she whimpered, slumping forward as she ground her hips against his mouth. "g-go back. right there. y-yeah..." she stuttered. his gaze lifted to her face, watching as she nodded her head in time to the way he sucked at her clit. jameson's hands moved down her legs, pushing her to lean further against his face.

eager hands caressed her thigh as his tongue lapped at her juices eagerly. the sound of her heavy breathing mingled with moans filled the room. she arched her back to give him better access while stroking his ears lovingly.

he forgot that they were in the living room of a suite she shared with a woman they considered family. he forgot that she'd had him stressed him for almost twenty-four hours. he even forgot that the genie was coming back to the room soon. all he could see and think about was imani.

jameson wedged his tongue into her, angling it so that it thrust inside her pussy like his fingers would and was rewarded with a long moan from her. imani squirmed, the leg that kept her standing trembling and jameson braced it, taking enough control to angle the woman towards the couch. he did it without taking his tongue from her and was damn proud of himself.

his mouth closed around her clit as she fell to the couch and jameson didn't stop her as she lifted her other leg to his shoulder -- getting a better chance to ride his face. both her legs trembled as he finally pulled his hands from her legs and thrust his index and middle finger into her, twisting and squelching inside her wetness.

imani pulled at his ears so hard that jameson grunted against her, feeling the heat rising -- but he couldn't quite bring himself to give a shit. when she came, it was with a shout of his name and her thick thighs closing around his head. if she had killed him, he would have died happily.

he stroked her down from her release, kissing and petting at the wetness that she left between her thighs and against his face. imani let him, legs going weak as they fell open. for a moment, jameson just watched her try to catch her breath. he didn't get up, he didn't shove his dick in her mouth the way she liked him to. he just...waited. patience was a virtue and he felt like a fucking saint because it took her forever to come back to earth. he kissed her thighs, doing his best to take care of her. and then she spoke again -- her voice slurred with pleasure.

"take your clothes off."

once again, he followed the command with ease. he got up from the floor, kicking off his shoes as he dragged his tongue across his lips. his pants and boxer briefs followed. by the time he'd whipped his shirt over his head, she seemed to come to her senses.

"let me ride you."

she was still giving the commands but jameson noticed her tone go soft. he stood naked in front of her and her eyes were trained on his dick. the attention pleased him and made his length bob. "stop looking at me like that. my dick is already hard enough." he muttered, as she smiled brazenly. he fell to the couch next to her and watched as she climbed onto his lap...reverse cowgirl. she knew he never lasted long that way.

jameson snatched the robe from her body, tossing it across the room. he didn't want any distractions or anything hiding her from him.

her entire body still felt like electricity was running through it. jameson could talk a lot of shit but he always backed it up. that tongue of his was a killer and it never missed when he put it between her legs. if his dick hadn't looked so damn perfect when she told him to strip, she probably would have left him with blue balls. but why fight it? it was pleasure for them both. imani leaned forward, using the fancy coffee table in front of the couch as leverage. with one hand against the expensive oak table and the other around her body -- fingers wrapped around his dick, imani guided him to the right spot. as expected, jameson's groan was louder than her moan.

he slipped into her with ease, her shaking hands didn't have to do too much work. imani worked herself up and down his length, her head dropping to watch their bodies rock against one another. despite the tension between jameson's strong hands pressed to her hips, and circled her hips. he was slowly siphoning control from her and imani didn't want that.

she pushed against the coffee table, sending her body to press to his. the move worked. her back pressed to his chest and jameson immediately brought his hands from her hips to her breasts. imani rocked on his hips, ignoring the way he panted against her ear. his fingertips pinched and pulled at her nipples, his other hand moving to brush against her clit. imani slapped his hand away, turning her head to meet his gaze. "tell me this dick is mine."

he didn't hesitate. he repeated after her, hissing when she lifted her hips and then sent them back down again. his gaze went from her face to down their bodies, watching as he slipped in and out of her. "fuck, baby...it's yours. this your dick." he mumbled, "let me play with my pussy. please." jameson never begged. not usually. but she loved to hear the word 'please' falling from his mouth.

she increased her pace by planting her feet on the ground next to his. with her hands against his thighs, imani began to bounce on his lap. jameson lost sight of her breasts as she lifted up but his fingertips didn't lose muscle memory. they pulled and squeezed as she ride him recklessly. imani tightened over him, her draw dropping from how full she felt. from how good he felt hitting every single sensitive part inside her.

his hips met hers and their syncronized rocking turned into clashing. imani whimpered as jameson dropped his hand from her chest and pulled her leg higher. "fuck me hard." she panted, suddenly just as desperate as he was. their skin was hot against one another, friction in more ways than one. jameson grunted as he went deep -- she took all of him in with a sharp exhale. "fuck yes!" he cried out, feeling her walls squeeze around him. his forehead rested against the back of her neck as imani rode him. she could feel his heated pants against her skin and was shocked that she heard a whimper from the back of his throat.

"don't." she said harshly, shaking her head as she fought the release she felt building. "don't cum until i tell you to." this brought a growl from jameson's mouth. he let her leg go and tugged her back by her hair. imani cried out as he kept her stationary. the hand between her legs moved quickly, strumming at her clit until she squirmed and panted -- fighting off the release. imani shook her head, refusing to let go. jameson knew decided to play dirty.

he pinched her clit, satisfied when she yelped and tightened over his dick. he felt a rush of wet hit and gave a long moan of his own. she gushed around his length, squirting so quickly that neither of them knew what hit them. he kept fucking her, thrusting in and out as she yelled his name and came all over him...and herself...and the couch. she was breathless, disoriented as jameson released her hair. "say it." he muttered.

his hands were at her waist then, bending her forward and bouncing her hard. her eyes crossed and rolled before jameson slapped his hand against her thigh. "say it!" he grunted. imani finally remembered...he was waiting for her. she smiled, proud of herself that he got to suffer a little bit before she placed her hands over his own and used every last bit of energy she had to fuck his release from him. "you can cum, daddy. cum in me."

it took only a second for him to follow through. he reached up to cup her breast. her pussy clenched even tighter around him because of that. his fingers dug into her hips while he thrust harder into her warmth until finally...his entire body tensed. jameson kept her planted on his lap, rocking her back and forth as he finally came inside her with a strangled cry. for a few moments, they were both panting and moaning, lost in the pleasure that had consumed them. imani fell back against him as jameson's hands caressed her sides tenderly. they both started to come down from their high. imani reached for his hands, wrapping them around her body and jameson took the hint. he cuddled against her, stroking and soothing she relaxed more in his arms. the two didn't exchange words but imani knew the truth -- she was back on that rollercoaster ride with him.

she could hear him snoring. genie stared down at her phone with a grin. all she could see was ellington's chin. he had fallen asleep on facetime with her -- something he swore he wouldn't do but he did. he had made her promise not to go back to her shared suite with imani and he made sense. everybody knew how those two were. they'd probably be back in love for breakfast and then on the outs again by lunch but genie wanted them to have space to figure it out.

when she left the hotel bar, she went to the front desk and got her own room. it was much smaller than the suite but not short on comfort. so began her night with ellington. from ten pm (Italian time) until six am -- she had shared her time with ellington dupree. they talked about everything. music, her fashion career, their hobbies. not once did imani and jameson come up. not once did her father come up. it was a miracle.

ellington had never really been in her life. he was jamie's friend. she knew they were close. their bond was unmatched. but she had never gone out of her way to be ellington's friend. watching him doze on his couch while she ordered breakfast for herself indicated that they were...at least becoming friendly. he had a wicked sense of humor and genie was sure that she liked that.

suddenly, her smile dropped and she leaned away from the phone. she liked it. not him. right? she didn't like him. if he was jamie's friend -- practically like a brother -- then that meant they were a lot alike, right? she couldn't deal with a man like jameson. even if they weren't alike, dating within the friend group was messy. she had seen it first hand and didn't want to be apart of it. it took her a minute but she managed to force herself to hang up the phone.

so what she spent almost eight hours on the phone with a man. that didn't mean anything. it did not mean she had a crush on him.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

"I won't let anyone hurt you, you're safe with me" I imagine this as Sebastian saying it to Reader. But the thought of the reader saying it to Sebastian after he wakes from a night terror (in this scenario, they have escaped Urbanshade) is very sweet to me

True to their word, they got you out.

You and Sebastian were finally free from Urbanshade's horrors.

Innovation Inc. managed to extract enough data from all the loose assets you've given to him to formulate an escape plan.

Thank god you have connections to the labs, otherwise you would have been just as doomed as any other EXR-P.

But you were more relieved that Sebastian didn't have to stay trapped in that place anymore. He didn't have to move from place to place and fight to survive constantly.

Even better?

There was actually a way for him to become human again.

Urbanshade deemed him too far gone in his mutation to reverse the countless painful surgical processes they put him through....but they were nothing but liars who didn't see the point of investing in the resources needed.

They could have done it all along.

Innovation, on the other hand, got every bit of data on the experiments that they needed, going right to work on him as soon as you both arrived to the labs.

Obviously, he resisted at first...as all the trauma he experienced from before didn't go away instantly.

He was afraid of another surgery, being touched and injected with foreign substances and restrained. Not to mention the heavily potent anesthesia he needed since he's developed such a strong immunity to it.

But you convinced him that if he hoped to become human--he needed this.

It took a week or two, with him being in and out of the operating room and you trying to pass the time by chatting with your colleagues about exposing Urbanshade's secrets to the world..but eventually they did it.

They gave him legs again. HIs ear fins were now back to being human ears--and anything else that made him look like an anglerfish was removed and replaced with stitched flesh. His third arm was amputated but preserved for future study.

Somehow, they even got his size to shrink. No longer was he a gigantic beast, but instead an actual human-sized person who got to sleep on the bed beside you.

The only things left of his previous self were some of his sharp teeth (which he didn't mind keeping) and his skin still bearing a somewhat light blue tint to it, although it was not as pale.

It was incredible.

He cried the first time he saw himself.

He felt..human, again. And you were happy for him.

Although...

While he was getting better physically, no amount of surgeries would be able to get rid of the emotional pain Urbanshade and the criminal justice system had put him through.

From getting an unjust sentence for something he didn't even do to screaming in horror at his monstrous reflection for the first time...all of those events still like to replay in his mind.

Not to mention he conditioned himself into never letting his guard down for any reason.

He'd wake up if he heard somebody so much as cough in the next room or squeak their shoes a little too loudly.

While the hardest part was over, it was still going to be a long and agonizing recovery process for him.

Tonight, however, Sebastian was sound asleep, whereas you were sitting at the nearby desk, pencil scratching at the notebook in your hand. You were just trying to brainstorm ways to get Painter and Eyefestation out and away from the Blacksite.

Of course those two were nothing short of a nuisance during your many runs to escape with the Crystal...but Sebastian considered them friends, as they were the only ones who could communicate with him and never tried eating him. So you did feel a little bad for leaving them behind.

You were sure Eyefestation was put out of her misery, knowing that she couldn't swim very far up due to the pressure changes in the ocean--plus she wasn't willing to let go of her vendetta against humans.

Innovation could very easily turn her into a normal shark again who could still speak telepathically...but they couldn't cure her hatred.

For all you know, she could want to kill Sebastian now simply because he was (mostly) back to being human.

Painter, on the other hand, could have escaped with you if you had more time. He deserved a better life besides wasting away mining robux and being tethered to the IDS. He always talked about Sebastian's promise to get him out, too, so you wondered if he felt betrayed and lied to...

Until you recently learned that Innovation figured out a way to communicate with him and help throw more dirt on Urbanshade via an encrypted channel. So there was a chance his AI could be transferred over to this facility if his physical body was destroyed.

That gave you hope to see him again.

But until then, they told you to look after Sebastian, and that was fine by you. He was all you cared about right now.

"GAH!"

Snapping your head over, you could see the man jolt upright all of the sudden, eyes wide as he clutched at his chest, breathing hard. You noticed the sweat dampening the front of his shirt, and closed your book. "Seb?"

"Shit. I was...am I...a-am I still...?" He mumbled to himself, bringing a trembling hand to his forehead, before he squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't be there..please, please, please, god.."

To his relief, he felt nothing but the tiny bumps that formed a stitch beneath his black bangs. But even so, his fingers kept grazing over his skin and ears, wanting to be certain those things weren't there anymore.

"It's okay. You're still at Innovation. My buddies got rid of them."

Feeling the mattress dip, Sebastian looked to see you sitting on the bed, too. You looked concerned, but not overly worried--as this has become a rather normal occurrence ever since he finished those rounds of surgeries.

"I know that, but..I've had them for a long time." He lightly scoffed, trying to calm himself down, but you could tell he was still shaking and very overwhelmed by his nightmare, tears stinging his eyes. "I..I-I can't just...forget about it like it never happened, you know. Like those bastards didn't.....gh.."

He got choked up, and you opened your arms to him, waiting to see if he was willing to accept your offer. Being a giant anglerfish, he never wanted anybody to touch him, and you understood perfectly why.

So for him to curl up into your embrace was a bit of a surprise, but you held him closely; not too tightly so he was uncomfortable, of course. "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me." You consoled, feeling him rest his head on your shoulder, sniffling quietly.

A few tears dampened your sleeve, but you didn't mind them.

It made you realize that he probably took his humanity for granted--now there was no longer a huge size difference between you two.

Ever since escaping the blacksite, he's become a bit more attached to you, wanting to constantly be near you. Even back then, he's been friendlier to you than most expendables.

He'd never outright say your presence comforts him. But you could tell through the small gestures and "exceptions" he makes for you that you're the only good thing to enter his life at Urbanshade.

"You're okay, Seb. We're both okay now."

"Y-Yeah, I know..I know.." He muttered, slowly trying to wriggle out of the hug, to which you let him go and allowed him to sit up. "Sorry you gotta put up with me being like this. Thought I would've been over it by now.."

Despite his words, he was still physically shaken up, the nightmares not so easily leaving his mind.

"There's no rush to "get over" any of this." You frowned a little, putting your hand on top of his as a comforting gesture. "I sure as hell haven't. Every time I think I can get some sleep, I find myself getting chased by those stupid mutant fish over and over again.."

Sebastian just scoffed. "You think being chased by one is bad? Try becoming one and having to live through-"

But he stopped himself after seeing the look on your face, as well as you removing your hand and getting up. "Sorry. I'll..get you some water-"

"No. Don't leave. Please."

You blinked in surprise as he grabbed at the hem of your shirt with lightning speed, although when he realized you were staring...he quickly let go and coughed awkwardly into his fist.

"I know I'm not the only one who went through some messed up shit. I don't know how you dealt with it."

"What?"

"..dying over and over again. I would've gone fucking insane if I had to live through that."

"Well, I almost did...but it was worth it. Because we're both free now." You offered him a reassuring smile. "And technically Painter, too. We'll have to talk to him sometime."

"Yeah? Think he'd wanna chat with me after I basically lied to him?" He muttered, sounding uncertain. "I promised him that we would get out. And he could paint all the landscapes he wanted to."

"My colleagues are still figuring out how to unhook him from the IDS without further corrupting him, but they're making good progress. He'll be on his own little computer in here in no time."

"That's good. I just hope he can forgive me. I really only asked him to stall.."

"I'm sure he'd understand, Seb." With a sigh, you picked up your book. "He knows we're safe and he's giving Innovation whatever they need. So I wouldn't worry."

Sebastian simply nodded, looking to his hands--specifically to the ring imprint that was still on one of his fingers, frowning a little as he stared at it.

Even though his humanity was restored, he had already been declared dead a long time. Everyone he knew and loved was convinced that he was a guilty man who deserved execution. It didn't matter if they caught the actual criminal or not.

He just couldn't return to normal life after all he's been through. After all he's seen.

No.

But he could start over with you.

It was funny to think that you were once an expendable prisoner he glossed over, assuming you just wanted to buy his wares and march onwards to your next death--to which he'd laugh in your face and show you the document you already had memorized.

Now, you were the only person he could trust. The only person he was willing to be vulnerable around.

Because you helped free him.

You were the reason he was able to become human again.

[anxiousapplepie]

Question: What's the Loop Event with each traveler? (This is gonna be long I'm so sorry)

I don't know the official order, but my personal headcanon is Sif, then Mira, Bonnie, Odile, Isabeau. We know that with Siffrin, Loop was intentionally cruel to basically hammer a point home ("Hey you're important to this whole thing dumbass"). But I can't see that exact event happen with all of them.

I think they'd try to be gentle with Mira about the situation, maybe offering to show her what happens when she doesn't go with them and leaving it up to her to choose later. It does shake her up quite a bit, but she's grateful for the choice and ends up thanking Loop for reminding her why she's doing this.

They don't show Bonnie. I think Bonnie would find out the hard way after some time passes, maybe have a sequence of them just climbing the tree together (Bonnie gets a few hints of who they are by how they move and react, they've seen Siffrin climb ahead before and they know what happens when they're accidentally touched). Bonnie is traumatiiiiized and doesn't see them for a few loops. They eventually come back. Both apologize, Loop for thinking they couldn't handle it and Bonnie for not talking about it with them. They're still okay, but Bonnie doesn't really trust them after this.

With Odile, I think they do literally everything else before either she asks them to show her or they do it themselves. They try to convince her that she's important, that she's needed to complete the quest, and she's not getting it, so they snap. "You wanna see what happens? Spend a loop with me. Come find out." And she does. And she learns the hard way. Loop later apologizes for snapping. She understands, forgiving them quite quickly actually (Which reminds Loop of how Odile forgave Siffrin instantaneously after Siffrin shrunk back down and bawled their eyes out, and it KILLS them).

Traveler Isa gets his own more detailed thing, because yes I have a favorite and I'm not ashamed of it. I think a really good Loop Event would be him figuring who they are, even going as far as to slowly and gently touch their face (and Loop immediately leaning into it because it's been so long since they felt his hands-) and their star head actually fragments into showing him bits of their human face. And THEN he sees the King's first hit. He has a very prompt panic attack that is still kicking him while he's down after he loops back to before they talked. Bonus points if he goes to the clock tower early and manages to nap until the others get there. Being woken up gently by Researcher Sif is a little rough but he's happy to see him alive and okay. This is when the rest of the party notices something is up with Isa, and that's when they start to bring it up every loop that happens from then on. He and Loop do not talk for like two whole loops. Isa eventually cracks, and asks if he is allowed to ask any questions. Loop says no. This discovery changes their dynamic entirely, going from sarcastic commentary and cruel snips to "Oh God you're my lover from another dimension that never got out and is cursed to endure it over and over and over again what do you MEAN this happens to more than one of us".

My brain isn't quite on for the rest of them I'm sorry lmao

ALKSHDASDA MATE Don't be sorry at ALL!!! You have no idea how much fun I had reading all of your thoughts and and ideas! And absolutely no shame in having a favorite, because good grief I love how so many of you took a look at that rockhead and dumped so much more trauma and angst on him than I expected XD (Isa and Loop's dynamic makes me want to SCREAM, they both deserved so much better!!!) I've got a feeeeeew slightly different vibes though! Just a lil, for Traveler!Mira and Bonnie! I think it'd take Loop a LOT of effort to get Mira to "hangout" with them for a whole loop, for many reasons. One of which is Mira swings wildly between wanting to be the perfect hero and do Everything Correctly and "STUFF IT I need a self-care day!" and spends whole loops reading books and aggressively drinking pots of tea while the others go to the House without her. (she feels very guilty about it but unfortunately the guilt only fuels her perfectionism and anxiety for the normal run/loops.) Loop would try to be gentle at first. After all, they know she's doing her best and has the world on her shoulders. But also. ALSO. I think they'd try practicing cruelty for the sake of kindness, and cheerfully invite her to "spend the whole loop with me next time you don't want to go to the House!". Cue Loop pointing to the House when the King's first attack strikes and reminding her (viciously, slowly, pointedly, desperately) that every loop she has a choice and her choices always matter. Mira won't understand what Loop was trying to show her until after the timeloops, but when she does she'll be grateful. And a little angry. And relieved. It's complicated, and she wouldn't have it any other way. As for Traveler!Bonnie, I agree that Loop wouldn't want to on purposefully traumatize the kid, but UNFORTUNATELY Bonnie is an unstable and volatile brat and one loop they decide "OKAY. If the stupid adults think it'd be better for me to stay in town, then I'LL DO IT." and Loop sees this as an opportunity to bond with them a little. Maybe try to understand what their damage is in this AU. I think Loop is smart enough to not hope that "the others will be fine without Bonnie", but it'll still hurt when the bright flash of light from the House explodes and Bonnie has to stare at the consequences of their actions (or lack of action). They are vital to the team's survival. Which unfortunately inspires the little traveler to fight harder, and gives them more trauma and a deeper complex about 'needing to be an adult'. Loop hates it, but does their best to be a support to them as they figure things out from that time forwards. but anyway!! you have no idea how many times I've gone back to reread your vibes for Traveler!Isa and the Loop event because it is juicy and full of angst and I am here for that energy XD

[growth-opportunities]

casting a spell on the girl you wish had a bigger chest against her will

AN: Definitely longer than I intended (1700+ words) but sometimes I start writing and I can't stop! I hope you enjoy it!

Dana had been my friend for a long, long time, since we were too young to be stopped by the idea that boys and girls weren't allowed to be friends with each other. It made our bond special and it meant that we could really talk about anything with each other. There were no secrets between us, even when we started growing up and going through changes.

Well, some changes.

While I did okay, puberty was less kind to Dana. Her face changed and she got a little taller, but even before she hit five feet, her body decided that it was just done growing. Done growing upward, done growing out. She transitioned from a training bra to a 28AA, though one could hardly call that a transition. Her hips stayed narrow. I told her that her slender waist have her body a really feminine shape, but I could tell she didn't really believe me. She said she was fine with it, though. We'd talk about girls in our classes who had shot through the alphabet and turned into bombshells overnight and Dana insisted that she didn't want any part of that. Tits made people dumb, she said. Tits made people boring. As soon as you could rely on your figure, your personality shriveled up and withered away. She said she was far happier with her smaller body than she could ever be as some huge-boobed bimbo. It was pretty obvious that she was just trying to bury her jealousy in pride, especially when she said that she'd never sully her body by get implants or trying to grow even a single cup size bigger.

The fallout of her first girlfriend leaving her for a bustier woman was intense. Dana was practically catatonic for a week, and I did all I could to look after her. She barely ate. She barely slept. It was the most depressed I had ever seen her. One night, when she was delirious from lack of sleep, she grabbed me by the collar and told me that big tits made someone a bad person. Busty women were all homewreckers who deserved to be shunned from society or be forced into brothels where they can perform their singular service to society and they can't hurt anyone else. She finally fell asleep with her arms crossed over her chest.

In hindsight, casting a spell on her against her will to make her tits grow probably wasn't the best way to go about helping her. It was a bit of a panicked idea; I just couldn't bear the thought any longer of not being able to help. Nothing I did could drag her out of her slump, so I resorted to an admittedly extreme measure. There was a decent chance, anyway, that the magic would be bogus or be indistinguishable from natural growth, which made it easier to justify. Neither of those were the case.

It was interesting, at least, to watch her reaction to growing. The first few cup sizes, grown quickly over a day or two, were met with a trepidatious pride. In her mind, she could still consider them "small", even if they were magnitudes bigger than the next-to-nothing she had before. There was an adjustment period, getting used to having weight and wobble on her chest. I occasionally walked into the room just in time to see her yank her hands away from her tits, blush on her cheeks, embarrassed for having acknowledged them at all. She'd stammer out something along the lines of "Well, this is fine. They're still small. I'm not a big titted, girlfriend stealing whore. As long as I stay this big, I'll be fine."

She didn't, of course. Dana's growth continued unbothered by her own feelings about her tits. Once she passed the DD mark, she couldn't really excuse them as being small. The timid fondness that marked her early growth quickly turned to dismay and frustration. A glass was knocked off the table and shattered on the ground, a casualty of Dana's slow acclimation to her own size. She was so angry at herself and her tits in response, that she punched her boob hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck these things! I never wanted them! And now they're huge and in the way! Gross bags of fat, never fucking stop moving! The moment you stop growing, I'm chopping you off, you hear me!"

She wouldn't get the chance. By the time the bruise healed, she was pushing the limits of common bra sizes. She never gained an inch in height, still standing with the top of her head below my chin, and her hips stayed narrow as ever, but that slim waist of hers was rapidly being concealed behind her growing tits. She was growing too fast to even buy a bra to contain them and so she milled about my apartment in shirts that were rapidly becoming too tight, struggling to contain that much tit. I could hear the seams straining whenever Dana arched her back and lifting her arms above her head inevitably caused a bit of underboob to slip out.

As much as I tried to keep myself under control, it was about that time that I started staring. I couldn't help myself. These were the biggest tits I had ever seen in real life and rapidly encroaching on being the biggest tits I had seen ever. The first time she caught me staring, it caught her off-guard and I could tell she dismissed it as nothing. The second time, she got angry, punching my arm a bit harder than just "playfully", reminding me that she's a person and more than a pair of tits. The third time, though, I could tell something was different. She blushed and turned away, but her body betrayed her, two little indents forming on the front of her stretched shirt, her nipples stiffening beneath.

It was a few days later, when we were both watching TV (or, rather, we were on our phones on the couch while the TV was on) when Dana turned to me. By now, her breasts nearly rested in her lap, only an inch or two between her thighs and the undersides of her tits. "Do you, um..." She bit her lip. "Do you like big tits?" My face flushed and I stammered something completely incoherent, but she waved her hand in the air, her tits wobbling. "No, no, it's okay. You're fine, dude. I was just... You've been so nice to me through all of this. The break up first and then these." She gave the side of her tit a little slap, the impact rippling across her bust. "And I realized this morning that, um..." She bit her lip, her toes (not reaching the ground past the edge of the couch) curled and uncurled. Her nipples stiffened beneath her shirt, larger and more obvious than ever. "I realized that I'm bigger. Not just bigger than I was before, I mean, anyone would be bigger than I was- hell, you're bigger than I was-" She waved her hand and cleared her throat. "What I mean to say is that I'm bigger than her. The one that stole Nadia away from me. By, like, a lot." The more she talked, the wider her smile grew. She sat up straight, pushing her breasts forward slightly. "I think... I think it would help me get my confidence back if I, y'know, did something with them."

She shifted in her seat, turning her whole body towards me, climbing up onto her knees. There was nowhere for me to go except back into the corner of the couch where Dana quickly trapped me. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't have me brushing against her bust. "I've never felt... attractive. Before. I told myself it wasn't important. The closest I ever got was the first date Nadia and I went on, but clearly that didn't pan out. But now I have these huge fucking boobs. And you can't stop looking at them. And I've seen you, er, react to them. A little tent in your pants." Now both of us were blushing. The tension in the air grew thicker by the second. "It wouldn't surprise me if you, ahem, jerked off to them. I've already done it myself a few times. They're... they're really sensitive." Her hands felt so small as they reached out and grabbed my wrist. I could barely believe what was happening as she dragged my hand up to her bust, my palm hovering an inch over her left tit. Warmth radiated out of them and into me. Her breathing became deep and slightly ragged. "If you wanted to, we could... I mean, it would be alright if... We'd still be friends either way, but..." Her confidence was wavering so I bridged that final gap, pushing my hand forward and taking her tit in my grip.

Instinct took over. I squeezed. Hard. The initial shock was quickly broken through by a wall of arousal slamming into Dana. She arched her back, pushing her tit into my hand. I don't even think I could describe how it felt to have that massive breast bulge around my fingers, spilling out through every gap, her nipple twitching and quivering against my palm. Even now, the memory of pulling her shirt up and exposing her massive tit, how it felt to have her little hands on the back of my head guiding my lips to her nipple, moaning in time with the rhythmic sucking and squeezing of her head-dwarfing tit, leaves me feeling a bit dazed.

Dana would grow a little bit larger before finally stopping, the spell wearing off. Nadia was quickly forgotten (though I had to talk Dana down from sending her a Big mistake. Huge. style text with a picture of her cleavage) and Dana's attitude on tits quickly normalized. Dana and I didn't end up together, though we did briefly have a friends-with-benefits relationship. Then she met Lillian and the two have been together ever since. I did, eventually, tell Dana about the spell and there was an awkward couple of days, but apparently Lillian helped her through it and she was able to, eventually, thank me for it. She said that I probably should have asked, but admitted that she probably would have said no and then she would have missed out on something wonderful. Lillian occasionally sends me pictures of Dana's bust as continuous thanks for my part in making them. She says it's the least she can do.

[the-offside-rule]

Pau Cubarsí (FCBarcelona) - Sorpresa

Day 2 of Christmas

Prompt: Surprise visit

25 Days Of Christmas

It had been a long flight. Y/n’s excitement, however, had kept her energized the entire way. She stared out of the plane window, watching the patchwork of land below turn into the busy, vibrant city of Barcelona. A place she had never visited before, but one that felt like it was becoming more familiar with every passing day, thanks to Pau. The plan had come together almost magically. Pau had no idea she was coming. He had been slightly disappointed that she couldn’t make it to Barcelona for Christmas, but she had been quick to reassure him that they would see each other soon. Little did he know, soon meant.

The plane touched down, and Y/n quickly made her way through the airport. A sense of nervous excitement bubbled inside her. As promised, Pau’s father was waiting for her near the arrivals area, holding up a small sign with her name scrawled across it in neat handwriting. "Hola, Y/n!" Pau’s father, Robert, greeted her warmly, his smile wide as she approached.

"Hola!" Y/n replied, her voice light with excitement as she hugged him tightly. "Gracias por recogerme." Robert laughed, patting her back. "De nada. Pau’s going to lose his mind when he sees you! You’re the only thing he’s been talking about." Y/n couldn’t help but blush at that, feeling the warmth of Robert’s words settle around her heart. They climbed into the family car, Robert chatting away about how Pau had gone Christmas shopping with his mother. Y/n smiled, imagining Pau navigating the busy Barcelona streets, picking out gifts with his mom. She couldn't wait to see him, to see the surprised expression that would spread across his face when he walked in and found her there.

The drive through Barcelona was a blur of colors and sounds, but Y/n’s mind was focused entirely on Pau. They finally arrived at his family's house, a cozy and welcoming home tucked into a quiet street. "Come inside, make yourself at home." Marc encouraged as he helped her with her bags. "He’ll be home soon." Y/n stepped inside the house, the warmth of the interior wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. The house smelled faintly of pine from the Christmas tree in the corner and freshly baked panellets, if she had to guess, remembering the Catalan treats Pau had once told her about. Y/n brought the bags to Pau's room, where a pair of matching Christmas pajamas lay folded neatly on the bed. Y/n grinned at the sight, knowing Pau’s mother had probably laid them out for both of them.

She quickly changed into them, feeling festive and ready. After a few minutes, she sat on the couch, her heart pounding in anticipation. Any moment now, Pau would walk through that door. The sound of keys jangling at the front door echoed through the house. Y/n held her breath as it swung open.

"Tinc totes les bosses, Mama!" Pau called out, his voice clear and familiar, making Y/n’s heart skip. She heard the rustling of bags, his footsteps coming closer. As he rounded the corner into the living room, his eyes fell on her. For a moment, time seemed to stop. His mouth opened slightly, his eyes widening in pure disbelief. He looked over towards his father, and back to his mother who was recording. Y/n stood up from the couch, grinning ear to ear. "Sorpresa!" She said softly.

The bags in Pau’s hands dropped to the floor with a loud thud as he quickly paced towards her, his face cycling through emotions. Shock, confusion, and finally, overwhelming joy. "Y/n?" His voice cracked as he scopped her up into his arms, still not quite believing what he was seeing. CHow? What—how are you here?" Y/n giggled, not minding the snow wiping off his jacket onto her fluffy pyjama set. "Merry Christmas, Pau." His heart raced against hers, both of them finally together after what felt like forever. "I can't believe this." Pau whispered into her hair, his voice soft with awe. "I thought you couldn’t come."

"That was the plan." Y/n teased, pulling back just enough to see his face. His eyes were bright, his cheeks slightly flushed, and his expression was one of pure adoration. Pau shook his head, still in disbelief but smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. "Best surprise ever." They stayed like that for a moment, simply holding each other, before Pau’s eyes fell on the matching pajamas she was wearing. He chuckled softly. "You’ve already found the Christmas pajamas, I see."

"Of course." Y/n said, grinning. "I’m in full Christmas mode." Pau’s smile widened, and he glanced toward the kitchen. "I was about to go make some fresher panellets with Mama, but I need to make them with you now, for sure." Y/n’s eyes lit up. "Oh yes, I’ve been waiting for this."

After Pau changed into his matching pyjamas, the couple moved to the kitchen together, Pau still stealing glances at her as though he couldn’t believe she was really there. Y/N leaned against the counter as Pau gathered the ingredients: almond flour, sugar, lemon zest, pine nuts, and a few other things she didn’t recognize. "So, panellets are a traditional Catalan cake, or candy, or whatever you call it." Pau began, his hands moving with ease as he measured out the ingredients. "They’re usually made for All Saints' Day, but we always have some around Christmas, too." Y/n nodded eagerly, watching him as he worked. "I can’t wait to try them."

Pau grinned, reaching over to dust her cheek with a little flour. "You’re going to help me, though." Y/n laughed, swatting at his hand playfully. "Fine, fine. Teach me your ways." The two of them spent the next hour working side by side, Pau guiding her through the process of making the panellets. Y/n found herself falling even more in love with him, watching the way his eyes lit up when he explained something he was passionate about. When the panellets were finally done, golden and fragrant, they sat down at the table with matching cups of hot chocolate and a plate of the sweet treats between them. Y/n took a bite, her eyes widening. "These are amazing!"

Pau smiled proudly. "Told you. You’re a natural." They spent the rest of the evening curled up together on the couch, the Christmas lights twinkling softly in the background. Pau’s arm was wrapped around her, holding her close as they watched the crackling fireplace. "Merry Christmas, Pau." Y/n whispered, resting her head against his chest. "Merry Christmas, Y/n." Pau replied softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Thank you for the best surprise of my life."