#did i get all his tags this time HOPE SO anyway

[dat-town]

p.s. but i like you

Characters: Taesan & female reader

Setting & genre: to all the boys i’ve loved before au; she fell first, he fell harder; fluff, comedy

Summary: When your love letters are sent out to your ex-crushes and you spend your last break before university trying to get them back, the last thing you expect is your neighbour tagging along.

Alternatively; you write love letters when you’re ready to move on from an all-consuming crush. There are four in total: Kim Donghyun from science camp in middle school, Park Sunghee’s older brother who tutored you once, Lee Chanyoung from the holiday resort last summer and Han Dongmin, the boy next door.

Warnings: MC is a bit chaotic, a bit of jealousy

Words: 10.3k

Author’s note: shoutout to the anonie who told me that the she fell first, he fell harder trope would fit Taesan because that’s so true. i hope i did it justice!

Letting your mother help you declutter your room before moving to Seoul for university was a big mistake. You realize it the moment you open your desk’s bottom drawer only to find it perfectly organized, colorful pens and highlighters in one corner, cute stationery in the other with stacks of important documents in the back, very unlike the usual mess you had in this exact drawer, the one you use to keep little trinkets like movie tickets and your old diary with lock and key you have been too embarrassed to throw out in fears of somebody finding it. You quickly scan the contents of the drawer, check all the others too, half-relieved when you find the diary with its lock secured but it doesn’t dissipate your nerves entirely.

“Mom...” You walk up to her where she’s currently sorting your clothes by color after you’ve already separated them by season. “Have you seen the envelopes in my drawer?”

“The letters? Ah, yes. I had to pick up a package from the post office today anyways, so I mailed them for you,” your mother says matter-of-factly, not noticing the way you’re biting your lower lip nervously.

“What?” You shriek, louder than you intended, in pure panic.

“Well, except for Dongmin’s, of course. I gave his to his mother,” she continues as if it was a light-hearted chit-chat, unaware of the storm clouds collecting over your head because she’s too focused on deciding whether to put your beige or cream colored sweater on top. “What’s with them by the way? Is it one of those letter chains we used to do when you were younger?”

“No. No, no, no,” you throw yourself onto your bed and scream into your pillow when you realize she’s totally serious. She found those simple white, addressed envelopes on the bottom of your drawer and took them thinking you just never got around to send them.

However, those letters were not meant to be sent. Ever.

The thing is: you write a love letter whenever you’re ready to move on from an all-consuming crush. So they are rather goodbye letters, your closure after spending days, weeks imagining your life with just another boy before realizing that it wouldn’t work out anyways. Not that you ever do anything about your crushes and you prefer it this way. In your head you can make up all these little scenarios about holding hands, amusement park dates, watching the stars together because at the end of the day you’re a hopeless romantic. You can giggle about seeing your crush smile from far away without the disappointment getting to know them could possibly bring. You have seen enough of your friends get rejected or dumped, so nah, you don’t plan to ‘put yourself out there’ anytime soon. Especially now that high school ended and you got your acceptance letter from your dream university in Seoul and you’re so ready to leave Gwangju behind.

But now the letters are out and it ruins all your plans of a peaceful winter break.

You’re knocking on the Han family’s door as if the building was burning down, tapping your house slippers against the corridor’s floor because you couldn’t be bothered to waste more time by putting on proper shoes and outerwear just to walk one door down.

You’re still going with the momentum and almost hit Dongmin’s lovely mother in the chest when she opens the door for you but you manage to scramble backwards and try to regain your composure by forcing a polite smile on your face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Han. Is Dongmin home?” You ask tentatively, hoping, praying that she would say no, so you could ask for your letter back from her by making up some excuse. Your smile almost falls though when the woman nods and looks behind her shoulder.

“Dongmin! Y/N’s here for you,” she shouts down the hall before turning towards you with a kind smile and ushering you inside like she has always done ever since your family moved in next door when you were fifteen. “What are you waiting for? Come in.”

You mutter out a quiet thank you and awkwardly wave when you see Dongmin’s younger siblings in front of the tv in the living room but no sign of the boy.

“He must have his headphones on like usual. Just knock loudly on his door,” his mother clicks her tongue in disapproval and puts a bowl of sliced fruits in your hands before gently pushing you towards the bedrooms inside the apartment.

You gulp and follow her instructions but even if you haven’t been there before, you would know which door is Dongmin’s because it’s full with stickers of his favourite bands and there’s the unmistakable sound of guitar playing resonating through the door when you get close enough, the same sound you hear from your own room because you (unfortunately?) share a wall with the guy. You knock on the wood three times, loud enough for the music to stop and one and half inhales later it swings open, revealing the tall boy with tousled dark hair, wearing an oversized The Beatles tee and sweatpants.

It’s been a while since you have seen him from up close, so for a moment you’re rendered speechless and a wave of self-consciousness washes over you due to the state of your homey clothes and messy bun but then you remember that he has already seen you taking out the trash in you pajamas and with greasy hair as well as with the braces you had back in freshman year. Not to mention, you have a bigger, more embarrassing problem at hand than how you look.

“What?” Dongmin eventually speaks up, raising an eyebrow in question as he leans his side against the doorframe and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Okay, if he doesn’t know what you’re here for nor he’s calling you out on your childish letter, he must not have read it yet, right?

“Uhm, did you perhaps get a letter today? From me?” You find your voice finally, albeit it’s more high-pitched than normally as you awkwardly choose your words to sound as vague as possible. Dongmin stares at you nonchalantly before reaching for somewhere behind his back and holds an envelope ‒ your letter! ‒ out for you.

“You mean this?”

“Yes, exactly! Can I have it back?” You get excited and relieved, reaching for the paper only for Dongmin to raise it higher, out of your reach. You pout as you pull your hand back and dare to look the boy in the eyes as you pose the question you’re afraid to hear the answer for. “Or… did you read it already?”

Dongmin looks at you impassively, eyes searching as if he’s trying to figure you and your intentions out. Then he shrugs.

“What? The part about my beautiful eyes or that I drive you crazy?” He asks with one corner of his mouth lifting cockily as he quotes your words and you are going to have to dig a grave for yourself. Especially because both statements are still very much true apparently.

“Shh!” You hiss and you don’t even know what comes over you when you push at his chest with enough force (and the element of surprise) to push him back inside his room and you slip in too, quickly closing the door behind you before his family could hear what you’re talking about.

A moment later you realize what exactly you have done and your eyes widen at your own brazen behaviour. Based on the confused, dumbfounded look on Dongmin’s face you managed to surprise him too.

“Uhm, your mom made this for you,” you clear your throat as you push the bowl of fruits into his hands and look anywhere but his face. Which in turn results in looking around in his room that’s very like him. Band posters on the wall, concert tickets half-filling a glass jar, a keyboard by the desk, CSAT preparation books on the shelf, clothes thrown on the bed…

“Look Y/N,” he starts, his voice deeper than you remembered. But again, when was the last time you had a proper conversation other than hellos when running into each other in the corridor? “About your letter. I'm flattered but…”

“Don’t be!” You cut him off before he could reject you. Even if it’s years late and you aren’t crushing on him anymore, it would hurt your feelings, so you would rather not hear it. “You’re not the only one. I’ve written four letters.”

“Damn, Y/N. Is this some kind of prank?” Dongmin furrows his brows. He looks like he can’t decide whether he should be amused or annoyed by the sudden turn of events. You’re not sure which would be worse.

“I wish it was. My mom mailed my deliberately unsent love letters,” you sigh, face buried in your hands while Han Dongmin has the audacity to let out a short laugh.

“So who are the others then?” He asks casually while sitting down at his desk chair, putting the fruit bowl next to his laptop. Then he turns to you and motions for you to sit down or whatever that vague hand movement is supposed to be but you’re too busy fiddling with your fingers while hovering by his door, half-ready to flee.

“Uhm, Kim Donghyun from a science camp back in middle school, Lee Chanyoung from a holiday resort we went to in Jeju last summer and Park Sunghee’s brother,” you list, counting each name on your fingers. You aren’t even sure why you’re telling him this. Maybe you just want to get this off your chest and it’s not like he would post about it on his social media for laughs. He rarely posts anything unrelated to his band anyways. Plus he doesn’t even know these guys…

“Park Sunghoon? Isn’t he too old for you?” Dongmin raises a brow and you want to smack yourself. Of course, he knows him, they went to the same all boys school. It’s the best high school in the neighbourhood after all.

“Yah! He’s just two years older than us,” you correct him, defensive.

“Whatever,” Dongmin shrugs. Then he eyes the envelope slipped under the fruit bowl and mortification washes through you again. You don’t even remember half the things you wrote but you certainly remember pointing out that you were sure his band’s popularity would get to his head and that’s why it was better for you to not like him anymore. You cringe at yourself because a year and half and a few dozen screaming girl fans later, Han Dongmin seems still as laid back as ever behind his Taesan persona. “So you came to take it back before I could read it?”

“Well, yeah,” you admit, not seeing a reason to lie. It’s not like this could get any more embarrassing. “Though honestly I wasn’t really thinking. I only noticed the letters missing literally ten minutes ago.”

Dongmin hums like he finds it interesting which is funny because most of the time he looks like he doesn’t give a damn about anything. Except when it comes to music. Shit, what if he’s thinking of turning this situation into a song? He should credit you for inspiration.

“And what are you planning now? Will you break down the other three guys’ doors too?” He asks and it’s teasing, taunting. You can tell he’s pretty much laughing at you behind his raised eyebrow and curious eyes.

To be real, you weren’t thinking that far ahead yet.

“How fast do you think the Korean postal service is?” You purse your lips.

“Wait. You don’t actually plan to steal the letters back from their mailbox, right?” Dongmin scoffs but you might be considering it, so your silence is enough of an answer. “Oh you do.”

“I don’t want them to read it,” you throw your hands in the air. Just thinking about it gives you a headache and anxiety. “It’s bad enough that you read yours and now everytime we will meet, I will overthink it because you know I used to have a crush on you but I’m still friends with Sunghee and it will be even more awkward if she gets to know I liked her brother. Gosh, I should have dated my letters. Now Donghyun will think I wrote it now and not when we were fourteen.”

The more you think about it, the worse the situation is. You shudder just thinking about how cringe your letters could be looking back. Especially the one you wrote at the prime time of middle school.

“You know, maybe instead of dating them, you should have not written down the addresses,” the boy across from you points out, oh so very helpful.

“Wow, good advice, thanks. I will keep that in mind next time,” you deadpan and decide that it’s been enough of an embarrassment for a lifetime in front of the neighbourhood’s resident cool boy. You need to come up with a plan on how to get the letter back from the Park family before they could open it or forward it to Sunghoon abroad. “Anyways, I’ll be going then. Can I, please, have my letter back?”

You hold out your hand, trying your best puppy eyes at the guy but Dongmin doesn’t budge.

“Nah. It’s my letter now.”

You scowl but after a few long moments of staring contest that has you hot in the cheeks, you let out a deep sigh. He has already read it, it doesn’t really matter anymore.

“Okay, bye then,” you roll your eyes and let yourself out of his room, bowing awkwardly to his mother when you pass by her and face plant yourself into your bed once you’re alone again. Stupid Han Dongmin and his amused crooked smile and pretty brown eyes. Why did he have to read it?

You plan to get back Sunghoon’s letter via Sunghee and it goes smoother than expected.

You text the girl asking about the letter and tell her not to open it or send it to her brother because it’s just a prank someone pulled on you. If Taesan gave you the idea, she doesn’t have to know nor about the white lie. It’s in the afternoon when Sunghee texts you that they just got the mail and you decide to meet up both to catch up and get the letter back. Like the sweetheart she is, Sunghee offers to throw it out but you don’t want to leave anything to chance, so you meet in a cute café, drink way too sweet winter lattes and talk about post-graduation plans.

You’re walking back to the apartment complex from the bus stop with your letter safely tucked inside your bag when you spot the unmistakably tall figure of your neighbour in the nearby park, playing football with his little brother. At least the younger boy wears a puffy coat, gloves and beanie all tucked in but Dongmin, who has always acted a bit like the street was his runway, wears jeans, a wool coat half open and only a long, fluffy scarf pulled up to half-cover his already reddened, cold-bitten ears, February cold be damned. He has his hands in his pocket as he lazily kicks the ball back to his brother but it passes him by. That’s when his eyes meet yours and you react a tad bit too late to convince him that you weren’t staring. Luckily, he doesn’t call you out.

“Mission success?” He yells over to you though and it’s so silly. Why does he even care?

“Yeah,” you nod anyway and you’re about to ask how come he’s not cold when his little brother tugs on his coat sleeve.

“Hyung, can we go back inside now? I'm freezing. Why did you even wante‒”

“Sure, back we go,” Dongmin cuts him off hurriedly and you pretend not to pay attention to their brotherly bickering. You’re surprised to hear that this time it was the older who insisted on playing outside because usually it’s the other way around based on what you have heard before but it doesn’t concern you, so you just follow the two boys, watching maybe a bit too fondly as Dongmin ruffles his brother’s hair when he takes off his beanie inside the building. On the second floor, the older boy steps to their door to key in the code and ushers (meaning: lightly push) his brother inside. Before you could do the same down the corridor, he turns to you after the closing beep of their door.

“So what’s next?”

Once again you’re taken aback that he seems so invested in the mess you've gotten yourself into but it’s not like you have anybody to tell about these things. Normally you would gossip about boy things with Sunghee but since she can’t know about her brother being concerned, you would rather keep it to yourself. Or well, since Dongmin’s asking…

“Well, Sunghee got the letter today on the other side of the town, so I’m assuming that Donghyun’s will arrive in Busan tomorrow. So…” You explain, running on the adrenalin of successfully getting back one of the letters.

“Wait, Busan?” Dongmin interrupts, furrowing his eyebrows, confused. Oh, right. You only told him about the science camp.

“Yeah, he lives there or at least used to, four years ago. So I’m thinking of catching an early bus tomorrow,” you tell him about the plan you made up during your way home from Sunghee. Taking an express bus is the fastest and cheapest way to get to Busan and make it a quick day trip. Even if the letter’s not there, you will just ask the person who lives in that house to mail it back to you when they get it. If you still have time to kill, maybe you can even go down to the beach to make it seem like you’re a sane person and you wouldn’t travel 3 hours back and forth just to get a letter back.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to look him up online?” Dongmin, the voice of reason as always, asks and you look at him unimpressed. Does he really think it didn’t cross your mind at all?

“I tried! He either has no social media presence or at least not with his real name,” you pout because seriously just how many Kim Donghyuns could there be for you to not find the one you’re looking for?

Your neighbour apparently didn’t run out of his questions though and you can see genuine, bewildered curiosity on his face when he asks:

“How do you even know his address still after four years?”

That’s a fair question (and you hate that all he asks are logical questions actually). Considering that you were fourteen when you wrote it, you should have long forgotten the exact address of your ex-crush but lucky for you, you have it written down in your dusty notebook under lock and key.

“Uhm, I might have it in my old diary. We were supposed to become pen pals after the camp but well, life happens,” you mutter, feeling a bit self-conscious admitting that yes, you are one of those girls who have written diaries. But Dongmin doesn’t judge, not for that.

“You mean, you never wrote to him,” he raises an eyebrow challengingly and it triggers a defensive reaction out of you.

“He never wrote to me either!”

“Well, good luck then, Miss Letter Thief,” he waves and slips inside their apartment before you could come up with a good retort and the way he always seems to have the last word makes you want to tackle him down in the old-fashioned kindergartener way just to shut him up. Jeez, good thing you got over him so long ago because he’s dancing on your nerves.

Even though your mother doesn’t try to hide the fact that she thinks you’re acting a bit too dramatic over ‘some letters’, she at least looks sheepish and doesn’t stop you when you tell her that you will go to Busan in the morning and come back in the evening. She even packs you snacks for the long bus ride and you throw a book into your bag as if you wouldn’t fall asleep ten minutes into the journey.

The Sun has been barely out when you leave the apartment, rubbing your palms together while you stand in the bus stop and wait for the local bus to take you to the terminal. A movement catches your eyes on the window next to yours but you think you just imagined it until the building’s door opens and Dongmin rushes out in his long coat that makes him even taller than he already is. You turn to him suspiciously when he stops a good two meters from you at the bus stop because what the hell he’s doing there at seven in the morning during winter break. You stop yourself from questioning him though because the bus pulls up in front of you soon enough and he sits behind you on the vehicle, so you don’t see where he gets off.

With upbeat music playing from your earbuds, you almost forget about him by the time you get to the bus terminal. Luckily the queue at the counter is not too long, so you manage to buy a ticket to Busan before the next one leaves. You barely get comfortable in your window seat when the aisle one next to you is taken even though there are plenty of available seats in the unreserved area due to the morning hour.

You look at the sudden occupant and your eyes widen in realization.

“What are you doing?” You shriek a little louder than what’s publicly acceptable, so you immediately apologize to the other, sleepy-looking travellers.

“What? Can’t a guy go to Busan to check out this one music store?” Dongmin shrugs nonchalantly and it’s your turn to raise an eyebrow at his nonsense answer. He really doesn’t seem like the spontaneous type but admittedly, you don’t know him that well. You didn’t have to know him to catch feelings after all.

If you wanted to be honest, a few encounters around the apartment building was enough to get interested in him, even more so when you got to know that he had a band and your crush became embarrassing when you dragged your friends to the local festival where the band performed. Even though their music style isn’t really your go-to genre, he just looked so cool on stage, really in his element, very unlike the usual distant demeanor he greeted you with around the house. Then Minah started dating their drummer and you saw the band on stage a few more times, getting to love their music more and more, hanging out sometimes as parts of a bigger friend group until that one party where you saw your school’s most popular girl throw herself at Dongmin. The taste of unreasonable jealousy was all it took to snap out of it and forget about the boy’s pretty eyes, beautiful voice and rare smiles you treasured. Minah and Wonjin broke up around the same time, so at least you had an excuse not to see him more than necessary around the house.

So yeah, you probably talked more with him in the last two days than ever before and he has certainly never acted like this around you. It was getting suspicious.

“Han Dongmin… are you coming with me to make sure I don’t go alone?” You question because you really don’t know what to make of it and you can’t help but let your voice take on a playful tone.

“Pff…” The boy snorts and then looks at you with his practiced deadpan face. “I’m going, so I can laugh at how you embarrass yourself in front of this Donghyun guy.”

You roll your eyes at him. He thinks he’s so funny, huh?

“For real, why are you tagging along?” You try to come off as at least a bit authoritative with your crossed arms and serious face but it probably doesn’t work. Dongmin answers anyway.

“Because I don’t have more exciting plans for the break and it’s fun enough,” he shrugs as he slides down in his seat a bit to get more comfortable with his height. He fixes the hoodie over his head and turns his head against the backrest, looking like he’s about to go to sleep after telling you that while there you are with a hand over your heart. 

“Are my love letters funny to you?” You gasp, dramatic on purpose but a part of you really wants to shove him outside of his seat (of course, you won’t do it, not now that you’re on the highway already).

“I mean it was pretty funny that you misspelled the word gorgeous twice in mine.”

He says it so matter-of-factly but you desperately wish that he’s just teasing or else it’s mortifying that you couldn’t spell that correctly when you were almost seventeen.

“I was nervous! And it’s a difficult word to spell!” You splutter.

Seriously, what’s it about him that makes you so defensive all the time? Especially when he’s nothing but casual about your old love letter? Or is it exactly because of that?

“Do I make you nervous?” Dongmin raises an eyebrow at you with an almost smile on his lips and for a moment you’re speechless because you can’t tell whether it’s supposed to be teasing or flirty.

“I was once young and naive,” you tell him, refusing to answer because if you wanted to be honest (you don’t), then yes, he makes you very nervous, especially when he holds eye contact so long that you have to look away and stare out of the window instead.

“If you say so,” he hums and you refuse to give him the satisfaction of answering. You turn the music back on in your app and try to nap a little.

Dongmin must have the same idea because when you look his way the next time he’s peacefully sleeping. You know you shouldn’t but you can’t help but take in every small mole on his face and the curl of his eyelashes. Gosh, how is it possible that he’s even more handsome now than before?

When he stirs, you quickly look away and fish out the sliced fruits and hotteoks your mom prepared, offering to share them but Dongmin dismisses it with a shake of his head.

“What’s the order of the letters?” He asks instead when your cheeks are puffed with the sweet food but you decide to entertain him anyway.

“Donghyun’s the first, obviously. It was a two week long camp and he was the cutest boy I had ever seen. I knew I would never see him again, so I wrote that letter when I got back home. Then I befriended Sunghee in high school and met Sunghoon when I was over at hers. I had one actual conversation with him and imagined our entire lives together until he graduated and went abroad. Then I wrote yours in second year and I met Chanyoung last summer over the vacation my family went to in Jeju,” you list them off and it seems to put the boy into thinking mode because he’s quiet for a short while, letting you eat in peace.

“You don’t get crushes when there’s an actual chance of dating them? You barely interacted with any of these guys,” he points out and then gestures between him and you. “We never really talked either before this and then you stopped liking me because I ‘got too popular’,” he adds drawing ditto marks in the air probably quoting from your letter which makes you wince quietly.

You might have written to him that you got over your crush on him when their band started getting more attention, claiming that arrogant rock stars aren't your type. You certainly didn’t go into details about how their song about liking a popular girl made you feel stupidly jealous, especially after seeing him with Yein.

“It’s safer like this,” you shrug, casting your eyes down. “I like the idea of romance, like in books and movies, but not the reality of it.”

Real romance is scary. Full of rejection, heartbreak and embarrassment.

It might be the songwriter in him but Dongmin sounds intrigued to say the least.

“So you don’t actually have real crushes. You like the version of the guys you make up in your head,” he says like you’re a puzzle to solve and he’s slowly figuring you out. You don’t know how to feel about that.

“The way you say it sounds bad but… aren’t all crushes like that? You don’t have to know the person to like them,” you say and it’s funny because you never really thought about your feelings this way. But it’s true that even if you have had your fair share of crushes, none of them were very deep. You would never admit it to him but actually your ‘Dongmin phase’ was the longest but you can’t be sure whether it’s because he has been a permanent fixture in your life unlike the other boys or something else.

“I don’t know. To me, that’s just attraction. You can like them for who they are only when you get to know them,” he says and he sounds like he did think about it before.

“You don’t believe in love at first sight, huh?”

“Yeah, no,” Dongmin shakes his head and pops a piece of grape into his mouth from your snack box. You scoff but hold it closer to him and the rest of the ride is spent in relative silence interrupted by occasional short conversations.

This is how you get to know that the boy has been in Busan before with his family, so you pretty much let him lead when you get to the bus terminal in the coastal city because you’re not the best with direction. Dongmin has to stop you by holding on to your scarf when you almost get on the subway in the wrong direction and teases you about how you will get around in Seoul like that. You shrug, not worrying about it much since you will have enough time to learn getting around in a big city like the capital.

For now, you’re navigating through Busan on this impromptu day trip and you’re kind of glad you are not doing this alone. Not just because you would have most likely gotten lost a few times but because Donghyun’s address is almost an hour more away from the bus terminal and time flies faster while you talk with Dongmin. It’s nothing special, just your likes and dislikes, high school drama, sibling anecdotes and such but you find yourself smiling and laughing more often than not. When your shoulders brush at an abrupt stop of the subway car, you pull away shyly and something stirs in your chest, something familiar and almost forgotten.

By the time you get to the address written in your cute pink diary, you almost forget about the main reason why you’re here. You can’t decide whether fate is on your side or not when you manage to bump into a vaguely familiar figure on the ground floor of the building with a very much familiar letter in his hand among others.

“Donghyun!” You shriek in realization, resisting the urge to yank the letter out of his hand. He definitely grew up, almost as tall as Dongmin behind you, hair longer, covering his ears but his eyes are the same.

“Uhm… sorry, do we know each other?” He furrows his eyebrows, visibly confused. Dongmin tries to cover his snort-like laugh with a cough behind you which really doesn’t help with your embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m Y/N. From science camp four years ago,” you introduce yourself a tad bit awkwardly but luckily that’s all it takes for the boy to recognize you because his face brightens.

“Oh, hey! What are you doing here? Came to check out the Sealife Aquarium?” He asks, almost excited, and you find it cute that he didn’t lose his childhood fascination with such things.

“Uhm, actually I came for that,” you point at the mail in his hands which leaves the boy confused once again.

“Our electricity bill?”

“No, dude, the prank letter you just got with her name on it,” Dongmin speaks up from behind you and you can tell just from his voice alone that he’s rolling his eyes. But it gets Donghyun to check out the envelopes in his hand and nonchalantly gives you the one addressed to him from you, like he doesn’t even care what’s in it. But when you actually take it, he leans in closer.

“You’ve got a scary boyfriend,” he whispers just as casually, so only you could hear it and you can only splutter in shock while he pulls back and jogs up the stairs with the other letters in hand.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat as you turn to Dongmin who looks as nonchalant as ever.

“For what?”

“For not telling him that it’s a love letter,” you explain, which makes the boy shrug. He opens the door for you and points towards the metro station.

“I’m choosing lunch then,” he says and you laugh at his logic, but follow him anyway. He still asks if you’re okay with Korean food and since you’re not picky, you let him choose whatever he craves.

You end up at a jjigae place, the warmth of boiling spicy soup filling you up and you blame the heat in your cheeks on it, definitely not in the casual way Dongmin serves you water or opens the hot rice bowl for you as if it’s nothing.

“So only Jeju’s left,” he comments between two spoonfuls of kimchi jjigae. Looking at you from across the table, he almost challenges you: “Tell me you’re not seriously considering flying there.”

“I mean there’s also a ferry…” You make a thinking face just for the sake of it but laugh at your own ridiculous idea and the face Dongmin makes. “Okay, okay, I know. He probably received the letter already anyway.”

You shrug casually and the boy seems surprised and maybe a bit impressed too. Getting back two letters out of four is actually a better ratio than you expected and you care surprisingly less about Chanyoung receiving his now. What’s the worst thing that can happen? Nothing much. Like Dongmin got his own and he doesn’t act weird about it. At least he certainly doesn’t avoid you or looks at you as if you were crazy like you would have thought so. He’s actually quite… kind about it. Without the letter you surely wouldn’t have spent this much time with him nor would he have joined you on this spontaneous day trip either. Speaking of which…

“Do you actually have a music store you want to check out here? We have time, so we might as well look for it,” you say, eyes on your food, blowing on the soup to make sure you don’t burn your tongue. When your suggestion is followed by silence, you look up self-consciously and fidget with a stand of hair hanging in your face. The look of surprise is clearly written on the boy’s face but when your eyes meet, he recovers quickly, shoving the rice sitting on his spoon into his mouth before taking out his phone and showing you the Instagram page of this cool store he found. You drop down your gaze from his face to his phone, feeling heat creeping into your cheeks once again as both of you lean forward over the table.

Luckily, in the winter cold outside it doesn’t stand out. Dongmin’s nose, cheeks and ears also redden by the time you make it to the music store by the sea. You look over the vinyl collection with him, asking about his favorites, inspirations and such, and while you don’t know half the bands he mentions listening to him talk has something special in it. It’s actually cute how enthusiastic he gets as he talks about music, like sure he’s all cool and nonchalant but still, you can tell he’s excited beneath that facade and…

Wait. Did you just call Han Dongmin, cool, mysterious, plays in a band neighbour, cute?

But how can you not when he walks out of that store with a new LP and a happy smile he tries to suppress when you look his way or when he’s like oh, yeah, sure, let’s go down the beach and there he is shivering from the wind like a rain-soaked black cat because he’s too cool to wear gloves even if he has ice americano in his hands unlike your hot hazelnut latte that’s warming your body and soul or the way he tries to secretly take pictures of you with your wind-blown hair in your face, laughing when you chase him down the waterfront or how he hesitates to accept the hot pack from you on your way back to the bus terminal but immediately switches places with you when a car passes by you a bit scarily close. It’s a totally new side of him that you’re discovering and you aren’t sure how to feel about it, about realizing that he isn’t the kind of guy you imagined him to be.

He’s so much more and so much better.

On your way back to Gwangju, he steals one of your earbuds and makes a comment on your music taste and you bicker about that half the journey but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your cheeks almost hurt from laughing so much when you notice new notifications on your phone and the device almost falls out of your hands.

chnyng_lee started following you. chnyng_lee hi yn! i got your letter…

“Oh my god!” You whisper-yell when you see the beginning of the message received, then quickly cover your mouth with your hand and pull the phone to your chest as if not seeing it would make it go away.

“What?” Dongmin asks with worry evident in his voice but you’re swimming too deep in embarrassment to detect it.

“Chanyoung just texted me,” you explain, still in shock and the moment it leaves your mouth, something shifts in the air. The previous light atmosphere turns heavier.

“Ah, Jeju boy?” Dongmin mutters, force nonchalance draped over his words as he turns to look ahead before silence settles on you both.

You take three long, deep breaths before unlocking your phone and opening the app to read through Chanyoung’s message properly. He’s so sweet, just how you remembered, telling you that of course he remembers you and he doesn’t think that your first meeting with you falling into the pool and him having to pull you out was awkward. He says it’s cute that you wrote to him even though you got over your crush and asks about your winter break. A sweetheart, really.

You find yourself chuckling fondly over his shy reactions and coo when he tells you about the group of elementary students he taught swimming that day. You want to show the video he sent to Dongmin too but he’s fast asleep next to you, so you spend the rest of the ride chatting with the cute boy who saved you back in Jeju.

Dongmin is quiet on the local bus too after you transfer in Gwangju but when you ask about it, he says he’s just tired, so you leave him be until you reach the apartment complex.

“Thanks for coming with me today. I… had fun,” you admit, more bashful than you would have liked to but the guy’s back to his distanced attitude, so he doesn’t even tease you about it.

“Sure, no problem,” he shrugs, seemingly eager to leave and you don't know why it bothers you so much but after everything that happened that day it’s his sudden change in behaviour that keeps you awake at night.

You wouldn’t say Dongmin avoids you. It’s more like things go back to normal. You have spent the last few years rarely running into him, so really, it shouldn’t annoy you. Still, whenever you leave the house, you find yourself looking for him and whenever you’re in your room you wait to hear his music through the thin wall between your rooms. 

It’s a random weekday evening when you run into him as you take out the recycled trash and he’s just coming inside the building.  It’s awkward, both the silence and the small talk idea but eventually it’s him who breaks the silence as he holds the door open for you:

“So how are things going with loverboy?” 

“Who?” You blink at him in surprise before realizing that he must be referring to Chanyoung with that weird nickname. “Oh, good. We’re thinking of meeting up in Seoul. He’s going there to uni as well.”

It’s actually crazy that in about a week you will be in the busy center of Seoul, getting ready for orientation week and trying not to get overwhelmed by everything that university life throws your way. You’re about to ask Dongmin when he will move to his dorm but before you could do so, he just hums and passes you by.

You refuse to think too much into it nor you allow yourself to mourn the closeness you unexpectedly found with the boy for it to turn out to be merely a fleeting experience. You cannot miss him suddenly, that’s ridiculous.

You can’t be desperate enough to wish it’s him knocking on the door two days later, can you?

“Uhm, hi!” You smile a tad bit awkwardly while looking down at Dongmin’s little brother standing on your doormat wearing a Kakao Friends Ryan patterned tee and a determined look on his face.

“Noona, can you please talk with hyung?” He asks and when he mentions his brother you can’t help but glance towards their closed door, chest heavy with unsaid feelings.

“Uhm, why?” You question curiously but keep your tone light and friendly, so the boy would know you aren’t dismissing his request, you just find it strange and unexpected. You aren’t that close to Dongmin after all.

“He listens to a lot of sad and angry music,” the boy sighs as if it was the world’s biggest problem and you have to fight a chuckle at how cute it is that he’s worried about his brother because of the music he listens to.

“Isn’t that normal for him though?” You find yourself asking because you do hear music through the wall between the two apartments from time to time and describing some of it as ‘sad and angry’ wouldn’t be far from the truth.

“Yeah, but even more than usual,” the little boy pouts and sighs again, all the world’s weight on his young shoulders. “And he says you can’t come over because you’re busy with your boyfriend.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you frown, confused where Dongmin got that from. Does he think that you texting with Chanyoung automatically meant you got yourself a boyfriend? Did he miss the fact that the letter for him was also written after getting over your crush on him? Oh come on, he knows you had four crushes over four years and never got a boyfriend, so what makes him think two days changed it all? And even if you had a boyfriend, what’s it to him unless… Wait, is he jealous?

“Then can you come over to play? We need four players,” Dongmin’s brother voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you let yourself be roped into a game of charades in their living room.

Needless to say your ex-crush is taken aback to see you there but he apparently doesn’t have the heart to say no to his siblings when it comes to playing a game. You pair up with his little sister who is seriously the cutest with her pigtails and excitement but her drawings are more postmodern than anything exhibited in galleries and you can’t for the life of you figure those out. Dongmin and his brother are a good team though but the eldest always makes sure that their little sister doesn’t feel bad about being on the losing team which in turn obviously means that he teases you about it instead. You still have a lot of fun though, so when you leave once it’s bedtime for the younger ones, you are giddy and high on sugar from Dongmin’s mom’s heavenly chocolate pudding.

“Sorry that my brother dragged you over,” Dongmin apologises once their entrance door closes behind him and you two stand in the corridor. You didn’t expect him to come after you despite his mother’s obvious suggestions because come on, you literally live next door, you don’t need him to walk you home. But you don't mind it because unlike your last encounter, he doesn’t seem to have his guards up making him much more approachable. Even if there’s nothing more to it, it would be nice to be friends with him, not just neighbours who pass each other by.

“No problem, it was fun,” you reassure him with a smile and don’t let the silence settle on your duo for too long. “Maybe we should make it a tradition in Seoul too, ask Chanyoung and Yoonah to join us.”

There’s definitely intent behind your words as you gawk at the guy’s reaction like a nature photographer waiting for something to happen in the wild and you can clearly see a bit of frustration blended with confusion on his face before he schools his expression back into cool nonchalance.

“Who’s Yoonah?” He asks predictably which makes your smile wider because being able to guess his reaction is almost like you know him.

“Chanyoung’s girlfriend! Didn’t I tell you? She’s so cool,” you chirp and pull up your Instagram app to show him a lovely picture of the two. Dongmin acts like he doesn’t care but he doesn’t stop you and somehow the air between you feels much lighter.

You tell him what you know about the couple’s plans in Seoul and somehow, in the middle of it all, you end up sitting on the cold concrete stairs right between your two homes and talk about the upcoming changes in your lives. You share how weird it feels to leave behind Gwangju, the only place you have really known in your life for an unknown city where you don’t know anybody. Sure, some of your classmates also move to the capital but none of your close friends, so it feels a bit like a fresh start which is both scary and exciting. He’s in similar shoes except that he has always had dreams of moving to a bigger, busier city, so he can’t wait to start his life in Seoul.

“As expected of Han Taesan. Fearless as always,” you note with a smile playing on your lips without thinking and you don’t even notice your slip-up until Dongmin points it out.

“You called me Taesan,” he says, his dark eyes wide and surprised.

“Ah right. Was I not supposed to?” You ask sheepishly because you have heard most of his friends call him Taesan as well as girls in your school who knew his band.

“No, it’s just…” The boy trails off, ruffling his hair, avoiding your eyes. “In your letter you said it’s cringe that I took up a nickname when we started the band.”

You wince audibly when he once again reminds you of a part of that infamous letter you don’t even remember and now you’re mature enough to admit that part of it was written out of petty jealousy due to his skyrocketing popularity among girls.

“I wrote that a long time ago. I got used to Taesan since,” you explain, drumming your fingers on your knee pads just to do something with them while the boy nods and seemingly contemplates your words. He sounds almost shy as he admits:

“I like it when you call me Dongmin.”

And if your breath hitches at that, it goes unheard by everybody but you because your upper level neighbour chooses that moment to arrive and complain about the two of you ‘barricading’ the entire staircase. Amidst polite apologies you say goodbye to each other and in the safety of your room, only one wall away from Dongmin, you can admit to yourself that maybe you’re not that over your crush on him as you thought.

Realizing that you still (or well again) have a crush on the boy next door doesn’t make things easier for you. Especially because in less than a week both of you are set to go to Seoul for different universities and if living next door with your schools across each other you managed to not interact all too much over these years, you fear being in the same city won’t make it easier to run into the enigma that is Han Dongmin.

It’s different this time though because you’re friends. Kind of. You text sometimes about random things like a black cat in the snow video that reminds you of him while he sends you music recs ‘to educate you on good taste’. You are over at his place every other day to play board games with him and his siblings or play snow fights in the newly fallen snow.

Like right now, when the two of you sit on one of the swing sets at the playground watching the two kids trying to build a snowman that will melt by tomorrow. It’s cold, you feel it sweep into your bones as your gloved hands hold the metal chain of the swing, barely swaying in place. It’s comfortable, sharing silence with Dongmin by your side but you like it better when he speaks, when he talks to you, when he looks at you which he doesn’t do, not now, not since he chased you down with a handful of snow only to drop it when you slipped and he caught you. Which eventually left you just chilling on the swings before either of you breaks a bone a few days before the semester starts.

“What are you doing tomorrow evening?” Dongmin speaks up in his usual, casual tone, the tone that’s passive enough for you to think that he doesn’t really care about the answer but you know it better now, it’s all just a facade.

“Nothing much, maybe watch a movie. Why?” You lean forward, holding your weight by the chains to be able to look at him even if he doesn’t turn your way.

“Would you like to come to the band’s last gig?” He asks eventually and your eyes widen, heartbeat starting to act up for no reason at all.

“Yeah, of course!” You answer, not even hesitating but you have to ask: “Last though?”

“Well, for now. We will be pretty scattered around the country once the semester starts,” Dongmin explains to your tentative question. You don’t even know how much of a relief it is until you hear it because somehow it’s hard to imagine him without music, without his band.

“Ah, okay, that’s good.”

Now that makes Dongmin look at you, all intrigued as if asking what’s it to you and it makes you flustered because heck now you have to explain yourself.

“It’s just… you’re good. You shouldn’t give up on music, especially when you like it so much,” you say, looking away, sitting back on the swing, kicking the ground a bit to give yourself momentum.

“Not worried anymore that I would become an arrogant all too popular rockstar?” The boy asks in a clearly teasing tone.

You sigh exaggeratedly and nudge him in the side but he just laughs. Of course he would use your letter against you, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you that much anymore and no, you’re not worried about that either. You’re more worried about moving to Seoul and drifting apart, losing the closeness you have now. Maybe that’s why he isn’t saying anything more either, that’s why you don’t address his unreasonable jealousy over Chanyoung or all those late night talks, the lingering looks and diverting glances. It’s not just a crush anymore, you’re one confession away from making it real because for the first time since you developed all those crushes you feel like it’s worth the risk. Dongmin is worth the risk of getting your heart broken.

The next morning Dongmin texts you to let you know that they will have a last minute practice with the band, so he just sends you the location of the local art café they will perform at on Naver Maps. You answer with a bit too excited ‘see you there!!’ which you immediately regret until he sends a heart reaction to the message. It has you squealing even when you see the icon turn into a simple like and he claims that his fingers slipped. Just to tease him, you tap a like on that message.  

You definitely make a bigger deal out of choosing an outfit for the gig than you probably should. You even ask for Sunghee’s opinion over a video call and in a weak moment of yours, you ask her to go with you but she just snorts and tells you that she doesn’t want to be stuck as the awkward third wheel when you eventually leave with ‘your neighbour boy’. You protest because why would you leave with him? But at the same time you kind of wish that you would. You live next to each other, wouldn’t it make sense? Are you too hopeful?

Scratch that! You’re young once and you swore to yourself that you won’t let insecurity or fears hold you back this time. You’re allowed to be a bit delulu sometimes.

You get to the café just in time for the performance to start. You’re still terrible with directions when it comes to new places but you calculated with that beforehand, so it’s all good. You order a dalgona latte, sweet on your teeth and warm in your hands, and settle down at a table close to the cozy winter-decorated stage where the band does last minute tuning and setup checks. You look around and see a few familiar faces from your school as well as some guys from Dongmin’s rare Instagram stories. They all cheer when the lead singer introduces the band and they start with an upbeat, alternative rock-style song. He might not sing the most but your eyes are glued to Dongmin behind the keyboard, at the way he is bobbing his head to the beat or the way he smirks when the audience reacts to certain parts, clearly enjoying it all and that’s what matters the most to you. They perform quite a few songs and you enjoy it thoroughly, regretting a bit that you stopped listening to their new stuff in the middle of second year, thinking it would be easier to move on from your crush like that. And look at how that turned out.

You have so much fun watching Dongmin perform that you aren’t even disappointed that you don’t get your own ‘Y/N moment’ by locking eyes with him through the crowd mid-song. At least not until it’s his turn to introduce the upcoming song after all the other members have already spoken between sets. 

“The last song we have for today is a new one. It’s called Just you and me and it’s a bit unpolished but I wanted to perform it tonight,” he says into the microphone propped above his keyboard and glances at you right when the audience starts clapping. You’re pinned to place by his gaze and can’t look away, not even after he does, not when he grabs the microphone and starts singing.

The song is not heavily instrumental, there’s only a soft guitar layer and a simple beat of drums from the chorus, but it stands out because Dongmin sings the whole thing and its lyrics are much sweeter than their usual songs. It sounds like a confession, echoing your own heartbeat.

When it ends, the band says thanks for all the support and drops their social media info, so fans can follow their journey along even when they are not active in Gwangju anymore. Some people, probably friends and family, go up to them to chat while they pack their instruments. You contemplate whether you should say hi to Dongmin or wait it out but you don’t have to worry about that for long because he soon comes to find you by your table.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you beam at him brightly despite the nervous butterflies in your stomach. “You were great up there. I loved the new song a lot.”

“That’s good,” he hums, looking just a bit shy with his downcast eyes and boxy smile, so different from the usual confidence he exudes on stage or when he’s teasing you.

Maybe that’s where the sudden courage comes from, the urge that prompts you to ask:

“Was it… a love song?”

Your tone is tentative, not too pushy, not too hopeful, but Dongmin’s gaze finds yours, earnest but amused, very much like him.

“Maybe. Somebody said she likes movie-like romance,” he shrugs, his smile turning smug when he notices the blush painting your cheeks. This time, you can’t blame it on the cold.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dongmin confirms and clears his throat, clearly out of his element a bit. “Are you heading home now? Cause if you wait a bit, we can go together.” 

You nod shyly and send him off to pack and say goodbye to his friends. Before you know it, you’re on your way back, talking about the band’s future plans, places he already knows he wants to check out in Seoul, how your dad plans to take you to move into the dorms by car and your mother is already emotional about it. You don’t talk about love songs and confessions, the possibility of a future together. However, you don’t want to say goodbye tonight without acknowledging your feelings out loud.

Dongmin unexpectedly beats you to it though. Once you’re in the corridor of the apartment building, he calls your name, reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wrinkled envelope, handing it over to you. You see your name scribbled on the paper and for a moment you’re taken aback because you expected his handwriting to be almost unreadable, rushed and messy but it’s so spacey between characters that it’s cute, especially if he made the effort to make it readable for you.

“To make it fair that I have your letter,” he shrugs oh so casually and scratches his nape. “Just… don’t read it in front of me.”

“You just sang a love song in front of a crowd,” you remind him of his previous bravado which makes him groan in protest and you get it now why he likes it so much, teasing you.

“It’s different!”

“Okay, I will read it when I’m alone,” you promise, holding the envelope to your chest, a part of you wanting to run into your home so you could read it as soon as possible, another part not wanting to part from the boy. But curiosity is killing you. “Bye then?”

You turn, ready to head inside but before you could change your mind and let overthinking ruin your sudden bravery, you turn back to face Dongmin and pushing yourself to your tiptoes, you peck him on the cheek.

“Kiss like we do, huh?” You ask playfully, quoting a bit of his new song and dash inside your family home before Dongmin could react or see how red you get.

If his letter is unlike what you expect it to be, you will probably dig yourself a hole in the playground and hide forever for this but you let yourself hope as you hold your breath and unfold the paper in the safety of your room.

Dear Y/N,

I can’t write sappy letters like you but I can try because you like this stuff. Romantic gestures or whatever.

I know it’s late, that it’s been almost two years since you liked me but I still want to get this off my chest. I don’t know what would have happened if you confessed in our second year because I didn’t really know you. I didn’t know how you ramble when you’re nervous or that you have this cute habit of brushing your hair out of your eyes even if it isn’t there or that you have the prettiest laugh. You’re a bit crazy because who writes love letters complimenting my gorgeous (that’s how you spell it by the way) eyes at the same time as accusing me of becoming arrogant? Who travels to the other side of the country just to get their love letter back? Who stays over playing charades with my siblings on a random weekday?

Half the time you don’t make any sense and ever since you showed up at my door asking for your letter back, you’re driving me crazy.

Sincerely, Dongmin

P.S. But I like you (if it wasn’t clear)

You squeal. Loud enough for the boy to hear through the thin wall between you. He has the audacity to laugh which makes you grab your phone.

you: don’t laugh!! you: btw i like you too! you: again you: still you: if it wasn’t clear dongmin: so unromantic you: ??? dongmin: write me a letter back you: on it! you: ♥️

[sundew199]

Another

a/n: Jesus it has been a hot minute since I wrote smut for Reiner, and um yea this was slightly self-indulgent won't even lie to you 🥴

tags: reiner braun x f!reader, oral f!receiving, mating press, breeding kink, mentions of getting reader pregnant, uh smut.

Asking Reiner for another baby was a dangerous task, because you knew the second the request left your lips, he'd be whisking you to the nearest surface to bury his cock inside you. Having a daughter already, who was around two years old, you felt like it was time for another, you never planned on having just one kid anyway.

You had it all planned out, your daughter staying the night with your parents, giving you and Reiner the entire night to yourselves. He was coming out of the shower right as you sat on the bed in one of your short promiscuous nightgowns, eyeing the way the towel wrapped around his hips hung low, revealing nearly all of his happy trail. Once you scooted to the edge of the bed and beckoned him over was when you slipped the request in his ear, feeling him shutter and almost buckle from just the idea alone.

Like a moth to a flame, Reiner was on you, pining your wrists to the bed and hovering over you, staring with hungry eyes that could devour you effortlessly.

"You want another?"

Seeking confirmation as if you hadn't whispered it to him so seriously just a second ago, plainly nodding your head and throwing one of your legs over his lower back and dragging the towel off his hips, revealing himself fully to you now. Reiner smiled like the devil at your simple assurance, releasing your wrists and helping you sit up, stripping you of the night gown and moaning at the fact there was nothing underneath.

Holding you at the knees, the deep chuckle automatically had you spreading your legs for him, undeniably eager to fulfill a shared wish. Reiner had always expressed wanting a big family, but knew it would always be on your time and not his. But fuck did he love to see you pregnant, swollen with his child and now that he had the opportunity to do it again, he wasn't wasting a second.

Before you could even process what was happening, his face was buried in your cunt, hands holding your legs apart as his mouth worked the sensitive flesh. His tongue traced over your clit, flicking it all for the satisfaction of hearing you whine. He could get drunk off the noises you made, the hitch in your breath and the way your moans would increase in volume and pitch when he enclosed his lips around the sensitive bud.

With one hand buried in his damp blonde hair, the other pinched at your nipple, offering yourself more stimulation as you were so desperate and horny. Reiner began to hum and moan into your pussy the more he ate you out, looking up from between your legs and letting his eyes roll back into his head at the blissed out expression on your face. You snuck a peak when you felt him come off, moaning vocally at the way his chin and goat-tee were glistening in your arousal.

Climbing more onto the bed to hover over you, Reiner swiped two fingers through your cunt, pushing just the tip of his fingers inside as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"How badly do you want another?" Knowing the answer but craving to hear it from you, slowly feeding you more and more of his two digits, smiling at the way you flinched to the cool metal of his wedding band entering you.

"Reiner-" protesting because he knew better than to make you beg, not when you were offering yourself so readily for him.

"Tell me baby."

The slight demand in his voice had you rutting into his fingers that hadn't moved since being pushed all the way inside you, resting inside your cunt like a promise.

"Badly, I want it so badly Reiner." Sweetening your voice, reaching up to stroke one side of his face, hoping the plea in your voice was enough to replace his fingers with his dick which twitched against your inner thigh.

"Yea?" Slowly pulling his fingers out, and adjusting his stance to where you felt his dick move off your thigh, knowing it were inches from your pussy. "How long?"

"Reiner, for fuck's sake-" Whining at yet another question and the way his fingers suddenly left you empty, just to be teased with his cockhead at your entrance, torturing you almost.

"C'mon," Reaching the hand that was just inside you to cup your chin, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip, a sort of begging look in his eyes now.

"For a couple of months, fuck please."

He chuckled under his breath, pushing his hips slightly forward until he barely started to breach you, stopping himself. You were at your limit, pussy throbbing for longer than you'd like at this point and he was still teasing you.

"You really want me to fuck another baby into you sweetheart?" Inching more of his dick inside you, prompting you to arch off the bed and squeeze your eyes shut. The question sounded rhetorical from his tone, giving him a simple pleading whimper as an answer, and thank god he took it and didn't prod you for more.

Your breath was coming out heavy as his thick cock stretched you open, slowly bottoming out and then letting you adjust before tucking his hand behind your head and holding you at the nape, making you look at him. Reiner's brow's upturned when he dragged himself half way out, lips parted the perfect amount to fan the fire of lust in your stomach and clench around him. He grunted, snapping himself back inside you and starting a fast rhythm. You sighed as his thighs smacked against your inner thighs, fisting the sheets above your head and maintaining the near perfect arch.

A firm hand held you at your side, fingertips digging and pressing into your flesh it were sure to bruise, but you loved the little marks he left on your skin, whether faint or apparent.

"Fuck I've been thinking about giving you another for a while now, just waiting for you to ask."

Confessing as he thrusted rapidly into you, groaning after nearly each word he spoke, making your flutter around him. Reiner moved the hand holding you at your side to grab at your hip, lifting them off the bed so he could send his cock deeper inside you. And fuck did it feel good, crying out his name and slapping the hand not fisting the sheets to his bicep.

"Harder, Reiner please."

The request sent him into abandon, pulling you back onto his dick as you were attempting to flee from it, leaning over your body until your noses touched and his warm breath fanned over your lips.

"Dammit baby you're going to be the fucking death of me-" Growling out as he came off of you, sitting back on his feet and taking both of your legs and bending them back to hook over his arms, pressing them back into your chest as he returned to hovering over you.

His dick drilled in and out of you endlessly, making a mess between the two of you, Reiner's head was dipped down and watching you cunt swallow his cock with every thrust. His eyes finally met you when you sobbed about how close you were, seeing the lust glazed over in his golden eyes, the want ever the more present.

"Cum on my dick and I'll give you another baby." Speaking into your lips, pressing his forehead to yours and feeling the way his brows pinched as he repadetly buried himself in your cunt.

Even a few second later, arms thrown around his neck for stability, were you coming has hard as you've ever come before, barely given anytime to recover as your husband slammed into you, chasing is own orgasm. He couldn't help but mutter above you, little curses and a few spare words as his hips started to break rhythm, indicating he was so close.

"C'mon Reiner, get your pretty little wife pregnant again, I know you want to." Offering encouragement, twisting your fingers in the back of his hair, pulling and making him hiss.

Your little statement did the trick as he thrusted into you one final time and kept himself flush as he came inside you. There was so much it leaked while he was still inside you pressing little kisses to your face, returning to the devoted husband you were familiar with.

Reiner didn't even pull out after he was finished and you knew it was because he was being greedy and not wanting a drop to go to waste, intent of making sure he succeeded in his goal.

"We're not sleeping like this." You finally said after he still hadn't pulled out, giving him a slightly annoyed and stern look.

"You're right we're not, because we aren't going to sleep." Laughing breathlessly as he parted your lips with a seductive kiss, and you should've know you'd open up the floodgates once you mentioned wanting another baby, accepting that until that test came back positive, Reiner would stay between your legs until then.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Hello, good morning/afternoon/evening/night. I'm the anon that requested for the platonic!dad Lilia vanrouge headcanon. I've finished reading it and I would love to request for the biological one! The adopted headcanon was amazing. And I also apologize for for not putting in my request with more thought 😅.

Thanks for the ask! I can totally do that! And don't worry about it, I was hoping to get to write both anyway <3

(I don't know if I'm thinking too far into it, but I wasn't sure if you wanted pre NRC or present, so I'm going with the same as last time)

!Platonic!Dad! Lilia Vanrouge x Biological Daughter

(Kinda a second part to This in a way)

However it came to be; a one night stand, a past lover, or some freak magic accident, you were Lilia's one and only blood relative left. His darling daughter.

Don't get me wrong, Lilia loved Silver and Malleus more than anything, but it felt different looking at you and being able to sense his fae blood running through your veins.

When you were left to the single father's care it was after he had already dealt with a newborn dragon. He believe that as you were his own flesh and blood you'd surely be easier to care for, but oh how wrong he was.

If anything, you were MORE difficult to deal with because you were his own flesh and blood.

Lilia finally got a taste of his own medicine when you started imitating his pranks (how did you even get in such a high cabinet).

At least he understands your magic and can help you figure out how to control it.

He treats you virtually the same as if you were his adopted child, just with the fact that you have his magic in mind- . . .he looked away for one second, where'd you go?

One time, Lilia left you and Silver with a pre-teen Malleus for him babysit as he had something to attend to. Silver spent the whole time sleeping whilst you spent the whole time making malleus play games with you (he didn't mind, he was just happy to have a friend). Lillia came back to see you and Malleus reenacting the war with wooden animals Baur had carved for you (maybe he told you too many stories of his glory days).

Lilia still loves doing your hair- what's that? You want to do his hair?

The other generals keep their mouths shut, but their eyes are glued to the great Lilia Vanrouge and his messy, lopsided pigtails with bright pink and blue bows on each for the entire briefing.

You escaped the cottage once when he looked away to try and get Silver to eat his food, and he had no clue where you were for almost a day. He was freaking out and about to take his magearm and go on an all-out rampage when he got a letter from the queen saying you had 'made a delightfully unexpected visit to the castle for a playdate with Malleus.'

Lilia rushed over to the castle immediately, ready to scold you, but when he got there he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he fell to his knees crying as he watched you and Malleus sleep softly: cuddled up to each other. The queen found him in this state and simply patted him on the back before recounting how he and her daughter had once pulled a very similar stunt back in their youth. (he has her recount any and all stories of him causing trouble as a child in order to hopefully have a leg up on any stunts you pull in the future)

Right when he thinks he knows how to handle anything you throw at him, you come home with an owl bear cub in toe asking tow. You recount the story of how you found it next to its unmoving mother, and he has no choice but to let you keep it.

When you tell him you want to name the owl bear 'Bear' he tries to argue with you that it's not a very good name, but you win. Bear it is.

Anytime you and Silver go out in the woods to play he sends Bear with you just in case.

Baur gets quite the shock when he comes to pick up his grandson from the cottage only to find him riding on the back of an owl bear as it chases you and silver (you were just playing tag).

He turns to the cottage to see what Lilia was planning to do about this only to see him casually. . .barbequing (if you can even call it that) in the garden and watching you all play. Baur ends up staying longer than expected, mostly to salvage whatever slop Lilia was making for his poor kids, but also to hear Lilia's explanation as to WHY IN THE GREAT SEVENS' NAMES THERE'S AN OWL BEAR PLAYING WITH THE KIDS.

The time finally comes for Lilia to head off to NRC with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek, but this time let's say (for the sake of being different that the other fic) that you somehow end up there as well. Lilia would have liked you to be in Diasomnia with him, but you instead end up going to Ramshackle with the prefect. This is an all-boys school after all, so the best place for you to be on campus is probably in the dorm with the only other female student. (That and Bear came with you and Ramshackle already has Grim so. . .)

There's no telling what trouble you'll get to in your time staying at NRC, but rest assured that Lilia will be there to help you out (whether that means getting you out of trouble or helping you cause more).

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[heffrondriving]

❝ And KENDALL needs to stop talking back to me after everything I say! ❞

[jennaispunk]

More than Friends

Summary: Some time away from your best friend forces you to confront your feelings.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags/Warnings: fluff, idiots in love, best friends to lovers, Frankie is a mechanic post TF (that’s my head canon for him), slightly non-canon (no lady, no baby), reader is able bodied and shorter than Frankie, no other physical description of reader is given. The photos in the moodboard are for aesthetic only.

A/N: Here it is. My contribution to the lovely @jolapeno Dear-uary challenge. I was given the task of creating something for my favorite guy, which also happens to be her favorite guy too. (No pressure right? lol). I hope you enjoy this little slice of fluff. Thank you to @maggiemayhemnj for giving this a once over.

P.S. No shade to the city of Minneapolis. I’ve only been to Minneapolis once but it is a very nice city. Reader is only a little unhappy about being there because she doesn’t like the cold.

Moodboard, dividers and banner by me.

Frankie’s texts in bold, readers texts in italics.

Your bag hits the floor with a dull thud. Seven days in Minnesota, in the fall, is not your idea of fun. It was your job to get the Minneapolis office on board with the new changes within the company, so here you are. At least it wasn’t snowing, that was something to be grateful for.

The last conversation you had with Frankie keeps replaying in your head. He said he’d miss you. It wasn’t only the words that had you thinking; it was the look in his eyes, the tone of his voice…it just felt different. Why did it always seem like he was trying to tell you something when everyone else was around, never when the the two of you were alone?

The two of you had been best friends for years. All the guys teased both of you about the way you flirted with each other, but that’s all it was. That’s what you tell yourself, anyway. But lately, it had felt like more, and it was getting harder to ignore.

Tuesday 4:41 pm

Made it to the hotel, safe and sound.

The city view is spread out before you. The skyscrapers jut into the clear, cerulean sky and you can see the Mississippi River and a clock tower that reminds of Big Ben from your window.

You miss your condo and your bed already. You miss Frankie, too. Was he missing you the same way you were missing him?

Frankie hears the chirp of his phone and wipes the grease from his hands, smiling when he sees your name on the screen. He’s been waiting for your text to know you made it safely.

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you said goodbye last night. The way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight on your deck almost made him confess everything to you. He came so close to telling you that he was falling for you and he wanted to be more than friends, but the words got stuck in his throat. He was always so tongue tied when it came to you. The cold, hard truth was that he was a coward, and he was afraid of losing your friendship. He’d rather have you this way than not at all.

There’s my girl! Glad you made it safe

The way he calls you ‘his girl’ makes you smile. Of course he would call you that now. You’re a thousand miles away and you can’t make him have a serious conversation about it.

It’s too cold here. I miss the Florida heat.

Frankie laughs out loud then looks around to make sure he’s alone. You were always cold, always borrowing a flannel or a hoodie from him.

What’s the temperature there?

55 degrees. Brrrrrrrr. I should have stolen one of your hoodies and packed it in my suitcase.

Frankie shakes his head. He’s honestly surprised that you didn’t steal one of his shirts. You did that all the time. The only reason he let you get away with it was because they smelled like you when he got them back.

That’s not so bad. You’ll survive.

He was right, you knew that. You packed a few different blazers and light sweaters. It wouldn’t be too bad, but you still missed the weather back home.

It could be worse, but I miss the palm trees and the beach already.

This week will go by fast, Clover. You’ll see.

You know he’s right. Work will keep you busy enough and there’s got to be something fun to do in this city. You have a weekend to yourself to explore but exploring isn’t as fun when you’re alone.

I know. I’m just complaining to complain.

You? Complain? Never lol

You stick your tongue out at your phone even though he can’t see you.

Shut up lol

You haul your suitcase onto the bed and start unpacking. Most of the clothes you brought needed to be hung up and the last thing you wanted to do was spend time ironing in the morning.

Your phone chirps again from where you left it on the bed.

What are you doing on your first night in Minneapolis? Besides missing me.

I’m having dinner with the management team here. The manager called and invited me.

Have a good time and try to act normal, okay? Don’t snort if anyone makes you laugh.

The sound of your laughter carries over the television you have on for background noise. He was the only one who could make you laugh like that.

Thanks, jerk. Talk to you later.

The first few days flew by as quickly as you hoped they would. The team here seems to have their shit together and it’s been a fairly seamless transition in getting them onboard so far.

Daily conversations were a normal thing for you and Frankie, but the distance between you only makes you miss him that much more. Every time he says something flirty; you just want to reach through the phone and shake him.

The two of you have been skirting around the truth for months. It’s just as much your fault as his. You don’t want to ruin your friendship if things go wrong. Maybe you’re reading too much into all this. Maybe you’re the only one with feelings here.

8:12 pm

Are you at Will’s?

Just got here, but maybe I should have stayed home. I’m missing my good luck charm so if I lose big tonight, it’s your fault.

If you were home, you’d be at Will’s too. You’d be hanging out with the guys and their girlfriends, having a few drinks.

The last time the girls were allowed over for poker night, Benny had teased Frankie about calling you Clover. He dared you to sit on Frankie’s lap for the last hand to prove that you were good luck. You saw the bob of his Adam’s Apple, heard the slight stutter of his chuckle; but Frankie, the well trained solider that he is, kept his composure and won the hand.

He whispered in your ear that you had always been his good luck charm. That’s when you knew for certain something had changed, at least for you. This was more than just harmless flirting. When you tried to question him about it, he tried brushing you off, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Would it help if I wished you good luck?

It’s worth a shot

Good Luck!!

Thanks, Clover.

The hot tub was calling your name, a perfect way to relax after a long day. The bathing suit you packed was the one Frankie liked most…how ironic.

Soaking in the hot water was just what you needed. Your muscles relaxed under the heat and pressure of the jets. Thoughts of Frankie kept your mind from relaxing. The two of you were more than friends, that fact was clearer to you than ever. If only you could say it out loud.

Safely back in your hotel room, and freshly showered you check your phone. Frankie should be heading home from Will’s anytime. You should go to bed, but you can’t…at least not yet.

11:36 pm

Did you clean the boys out tonight?

Not exactly lol

Sorry. Maybe next week.

You’ll be home so my luck will change.

The three bubbles danced on Frankie’s screen. Did he say something wrong? His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he waited. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but he didn’t know how. It was so easy to flirt and joke with you but when it came to a serious conversation, any words he had didn’t feel like enough. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship. You’d been there for him in ways that no one else had. He couldn’t lose you.

I’ll be there next week. I think I’m going to turn in early. The time change is messing with me.

That was a slight exaggeration, but what else could you say? You couldn’t tell him that you were tired of pretending there wasn’t something between you, at least not over text.

Frankie’s free hand went under his hat to scratch his head. It wasn’t like you to cut a conversation short. Something was off with you; he could feel it. He wanted to call you out on it, but he was afraid of what you’d say.

I should get to bed too. I’ve got a big shot with a ’78 Camaro coming to the shop that needs some work done. Good night.

Good night

You drop onto your bed and close your eyes. Today made up for all the previous days with no issues. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong, and now you were exhausted. You thank the universe that you only have two more days to get through.

Tonight was going to be about wine, comfort food and cheesy movies. Pepperoni pizza with extra cheese was calling your name.

You shower and change into your sweats while you wait for your pizza. Frankie is all you can think of. He’s the one you want to talk to after a rough day.

Frankie had looked at his phone so many times today that Will had threatened to break it. He tried to assure himself that you were just busy, but it wasn’t like you not to at least send a quick text or two throughout the day.

After grabbing a quick bite to eat, Frankie couldn’t take it anymore. He picked up his phone and typed out a quick text. He had to know you were fine.

6:36 pm

Is my girl okay?

The ping of your phone made you jump. You’d been so busy that you hadn’t texted Frankie all day.

I’m okay. Today was a rough one.

Wanna talk about it?

Its just work bullshit. You know how it goes.

Frankie smirked. He could picture you now, sitting cross-legged on the bed with one hand rubbing the back of your neck. You always did that when you were tense.

Yeah, I get it. Pepperoni pizza and wine tonight?

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He knew you so well. You took a sip of wine.

Pizza is on its way

The two of you chatted more while you waited for the food. The wine was going down good…too good and it was making you feel brave.

What are you up to tonight?

I’m just hanging out at home.

You move the pizza box to the desk and stretch out on the bed. The movie in the background was all but forgotten.

Are you watching Bridesmaids right now? That movie always cracks you up.

Yeah, I’ve got it on.

Good. I wish I was there to cheer you up. I’d do anything to make you feel better.

Three bubbles dance on your screen.

I miss you

You clamp your eyes shut. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like the two of you are just friends.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers are furiously typing a response.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

This could blow up in your face, but you couldn’t take it back. You opened this door, and now you had to walk through it.

Drop these little hints. You only tell me the truth when you think I won’t hear it.

The silence stretches as you watch the bubbles dance on your screen then disappear and reappear again. It wasn’t something you should have said over text, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was way past time the two of you had this talk.

Frankie almost dropped his phone in his lap. He knew exactly what you meant. He thought he was doing a good job of keeping his feelings hidden. He didn’t want to risk your friendship. You were his best friend.

What is that supposed to mean?

All these little comments, the way you look at me like I’m the only one in the room. I’m tired of dancing around the truth.

Frankie swallowed hard. This was the last thing he expected you to say. How could he tell you how he felt?

What truth would that be?

The truth that we’re more than just friends. There is something more between us.

Again, those three little bubbles dance on your screen. Your heart hammers in your chest. Either he was going to tell you the truth or you lost a friend forever.

Can we talk about this when you get home? I promise we’ll have an honest conversation then.

Yeah, this isn’t something we should talk about over text anyway. We’ll talk when I get home.

You toss your phone onto the bed. You shouldn’t have said anything over text. Now both of you were going to freak out until then. Slamming your fist into the bed, you clamp your eyes closed. The feeling that you just ruined everything sits on your chest like an elephant.

You didn’t text Frankie again, what else could you say now? Acting like everything was okay wasn’t possible. Staring out at the city lights, all you could do was let the silence sit between you and hope that it would all work out the way it was meant to.

You toss your bag in your bedroom and start going through your mail. Thankfully, it was mostly junk and nothing urgent that you needed to worry about.

Frankie stood outside your door. Everything was about to change, and his heart hammered in his chest. He raised a trembling hand and knocked. He’d promised you a serious conversation when you got home, and he was keeping that promise.

“Frankie, what are you doing here?”

“I, um, promised you we’d talk… so here I am.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. His heart pounded in his ears as he stepped through the door.

This was it. It was now or never. Every stolen glance, every touch that lasted too long to just be friendly had led to this. He grabbed you and pressed his lips to yours without another word. He kissed you like he needed your lips to breathe, pouring everything he couldn’t put into words into that one action.

The need for air was the only thing that broke you apart. You stood foreheads pressed together, panting and inhaling each other.

“What was that?”

“The truth.” he answered.

You blink several times. That kiss had stolen everything you wanted to say.

Frankie looks at you. The sweat collects at his brow. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? Maybe he shouldn’t have come on so strong. Maybe it was too much, too soon.

“Say something…please.” He whispers.

His soft, brown eyes plead with you to not leave him hanging. The silence between you is deafening as you try to find your words.

“When the pressure’s on, you really jump in with both feet, huh?”

The corners of his eyes wrinkle as he smiles. You love that smile, live for that smile. There is something almost boyish about his grin and it always leaves you weak in the knees.

“Was it too much?” he stammers. “It was too much.”

The light in his mocha brown eyes begins to fade. He should have taken it slower, maybe asked you out on a date before he crammed his tongue in your mouth. He could never think straight around you.

Your brow furrows as you watch him, seeing the look of defeat mar his features.

“It was perfect.” You whisper.

He cocks a brow at you as the sparkle returns to his eyes.

“Really?”

You nod your head. He was always perfect in your eyes, even when he was being an idiot.

“Yes, really. I think I should put pressure on you more often if it will make you kiss me like that.” you tease.

A rush of air caresses your face as he exhales. His throaty chuckle reaches your ears, and he pulls you closer.

“I don’t think my heart could handle that, querida.”

You lean in and brush your lips against his. This kiss isn’t headed and passionate, it’s slow and honest. It’s a kiss to make up for all the time the two of you spent denying what was in front of you the whole time.

The need for air is the only thing that makes you break apart. You stand together, foreheads touching under the bill of his hat, your breath mixing together.

Frankie swallows hard. He’s never been more scared in his life. Any mission, any tour overseas was a cakewalk compared to this moment. He had to do this right. He had to make this work. He couldn’t lose you.

“I want to take you out on a date.” He panted softly. “A real date with flowers, opening doors for you…the whole thing.”

Your soft laugh flitters through the air. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. When Frankie finally made a decision, he was all in.

“You want to take me on a date? Seriously?”

The corner of his mouth raised into a half smile.

“Yeah. I want to take you out. I want to do this right; treat you like you deserve. I want to make up for lost time.”

You can’t stop smiling. Why did you wait so long to confront your feelings? You wasted so much time.

“I’d love to go on a date with you.”

This time you get Frankie’s genuine smile, the one where his eyes practically disappear and the lines around his eyes are so pronounced.

“Good.”

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and he will always kick himself for waiting so long to tell you how he felt.

“I know you just got home and haven’t even had a chance to unpack, but how about tonight? I’ll pick you up and we can have dinner.”

You blink a few times and smile. This is really happening; the two of you are finally going to give each other the chance you were always too scared to take.

“Tonight works for me.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked grin. A small part of him was worried you’d say no; that all those things you said to him while you were gone were just a moment of weakness. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you.

“Yeah?”

His voice is barely audible as he pulls you even closer. His scent invades your nostrils: fresh and woodsy with a faint hint of motor oil. It’s a smell that’s uniquely him and one you will always associate with comfort and protection.

“Will you wear that purple sundress?” he whispers as he brushes his nose against yours. “The one you wore to that barbecue at Will’s this summer.”

You raise your brow. Your chest grows warm as you stand together, locked in each other’s arms.

“You remember that dress?”

Frankie chuckles softly. He remembers a lot of things about you; your favorite color, the way your tongue sticks out a little bit when you're concentrating really hard…he’s memorized so many details.

“Hell yeah. You looked so pretty in that damn dress; I almost dropped my beer when you walked in.”

You opened your mouth to speak but the opening notes to “Enter Sandman” blare from his back pocket.

“Shit.”

He grins sheepishly and relaxes his grip on you before putting the phone to his ear. Now that he’s got you in his arms, he’s not letting go.

“You have impeccable timing, Benjamin. What’s up?”

You rest your head on Frankie’s shoulder. The vibrations of his chest as he talks to Ben tickle your cheek. Being in his arms feels even better than you ever could have imagined. Frankie had always been home to you, but now home took on a brand new meaning.

“That sucks, man.” Frankie sighs. “Have the tow truck take it to the shop. I’ll meet you there and we’ll get it fixed.”

You lift your head as Frankie disconnects the call. Your nose wrinkles as he sighs.

“Sorry, querida. I gotta go. Benny busted a tie rod on his truck, and he needs some help getting it fixed.”

Leave it Benny to get himself in a jam. At least he’s not hurt or in jail.

You smile and raise up on tiptoes to give Frankie a quick peck on the lips. He would do anything to help a friend, and that’s one of the things you love so much about him.

“Go help Benny. He needs you more than I do right now.”

Frankie squeezes you and kisses your forehead. If he kisses your lips again, he’d be too tempted to leave Benny hanging. This will have to be enough for now.

“I’ll text you later.”

“You better.” you tease.

He finally pulls away and you miss his arms around you already.

“Frankie.”

You call out to him as he reaches the front door. He turns back to look at you with his hand still on the knob.

“Make sure you wear your cowboy boots and that ball cap tonight.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

[dekusdante]

Well it's that time again for another JJK rant.

So by this point I would assume that most of you know my eternal hatred towards the enemies to lovers trope when it comes to Gojo x reader stories right.

Well we are back at it again cause I am hoping people know that this type of relationship isn't one that Gojo would ever go for. Like it's one of those things that the fandom latched on to like My Hero Academia Hawks being a flirty playboy. It's not something that fits the character but it something that so many people latched on to that they now believe that it's a thing.

Like Gojo knows his worth and value. He literally dislikes those that he views as stuck up or just down right unlikeable. Aka every reader in the enemies to lovers trope. Like you are telling me you hate this guy for no reason but it's okay because your only saving grace is that he finds you attractive.

Seriously.

That is the how 95% of them go. Also to even it out they would make Gojo do some out of pocket stuff to justify the reader treating him like dirt while also always making him the bad guy even if he did nothing wrong.

I am so sick of this copy and paste trope. Now I know i don't have to read it which I don't. If I see it I keep scrolling. Although there are gems I sadly just skip past them because I'm used to the bad and boring ones. (Lowkey reminds me of the dumbest Gojo x reader story on wattpad called Debt. Freaking dumbest reader/mc I have ever read couldn't even get past the first few chapters. The first and only time this has happened)

Another thing is bad reverse harem stories. Like I don't care the reader is 18! Why are men close to their 30s trying to have a relationship with them? Why is said 18 year old trying to have a romantic relationship with freshly turned 15 year old? Look 18 maybe considered an adult but it's still gross and it would have been better if the reader was 20 and up. Also if you want your reader to have love interests that are 15 then they should at least be under 18.

I am sick of gross age gaps, don't care if you are 20 years old dating a 30, 40, or whatever just make it legal! 18 isn't a cheat code!

Also harems suck since they either end up with no one, end up with someone not in the harem, or worst not even completed. Yet, the biggest crime is as I said it before the gross 18 year old cheat code.

Finally the last of my random rant which has to deal with genders and sexyal orientation. Stop writing about boy x boy if you are only going to stereotype them. Yes gay mean may like to be more of the feminine side but NOT all of them. Not all males who prefer to be a bottom want to wear feminine clothes and act like a femboy.

Not all trans people want to be just a title! Don't include them if you are not even going to try! Same with the non binary or gender neutrals. Don't include them but give traits that have a gender that goes against their stances. It's wrong.

Also I lied this is my final rant. Stop saying it's a reader story if you are not going to be neutral. For example giving a reader appearances that instantly alienate a reader. Sure I understand fem reader or male reader tags but to then give them hairstyles, skin tones that alienate others, or ect. I'm a POC (Person of color) and it sucks when you are reading something and instantly shown you are not included. Luckily the anime community is slowly but surely getting more inclusive. No I'm talking about those that want to read reader stories from fandoms like The Boys (Scarlett Witch took over i swear) or (Squid Games I know it's in Korea but dang why can't I be american?).

Anyway that's all. I would love to read and possibly reply to comments. Some may agree others not so much which is far I am criticizing something so it's 100 okay to throw it back!

[kissingghouls]

The Emperor (Suck Club IV)

Part Two: The First - (Part One // ao3)

Vampire Primo x Female Reader

Summary: You seek comfort in Primo's old cottage, unaware you aren't alone in the woods. ♥ This chapter directly references events that take place in The Prince, not exactly spoilers but I'm adding a heads up anyway. Tags: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, dual pov, flashbacks, horror themes, vampire violence, violence, blood, (eventual) smut, and more tags on ao3 // 3600ish words div by @gothdaddyissues 🖤

“So…vampires like pizza?”

It might’ve been a stupid question but in that moment it was the only thing you could think to ask. A delivery box with a nondescript logo—some local place, you guessed—sat between you and the much older man. For some reason, he had also set the table for a much fancier meal, complete with the confusing number of silverware.

The odd man simply shrugged as he delicately cut into his pizza with a knife and fork. “I suppose some do, though, I can’t speak for all of us. I just assumed young people still liked pizza.”

“Huh.” You took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as you prepared the next question. “And how many years young are you?”

He cracked a smile, laughing through his nose. “Quite a few, I’m afraid.”

“Like…centuries? Wait—is it rude to ask?”

He smiled softly. “I don’t mind you asking, piccola. Let’s see…” He paused and began to tap on his chin as he added up the years. “Somewhere around 900 years old, give or take. After a certain amount of time, one falls out of the habit of counting.

You sat back, sinking lower in your seat. “You really are him, aren’t you.”

“I told you, cara, I don’t know why anyone would pretend to be me.”

“Primo?” you asked softly, using his name for the first time. “Why did you really do it? Why waste your time saving me?”

He set down his silverware and looked you in the eye. “You reminded me of someone.”

The memory played over and over as you drove down the dark stretch of road. There was no need for street lights along the old highway at the edge of town. People hardly came out this way anymore, opting to use the newer highway to get to the city, but it was still the only direct route to Primo’s charming cottage. He loved to bring you along on afternoon drives, telling you stories about its heyday and pointing out old places of interest as he sped down the desolate strip. It was an artery, he said, a direct line to the beating heart of the city just over the horizon, so busy and full of life as people traveled back and forth. Now it was just a place where bored teenagers went to cause trouble and pretend to summon things in the woods.

As long as they stayed away from the old Emeritus place you didn’t really care what the local heathens got up to.

It used to be calming out here, like wandering down a secret path to some hidden tranquil place. A place only a handful of people knew about and even fewer visited. Now it felt like you were somewhere else, some alternate dimension where the harsh reality of all those abandoned properties made your skin crawl. Those sad, broken buildings looming in the woods waiting—longing—for someone to return. The seemingly magical veil that previously blanketed that strip of highway was gone, leaving only busted windows and sagging roofs to remind you of your own loss.

You’d been avoiding the cottage as much as possible. It might be all you had left of him, but most of the time it felt more like visiting a gravesite than the place he called home. How could it not? You’d mourned there, buried your hopes there and still your offering—your sacrifice—wasn’t enough to bring him back.

You often wondered if he even could come back. Of all the things you’d discussed over the years, this was a contingency neither of you planned for. Whatever the reason, you knew deep down leaving was his only solution and likely one he struggled with immensely. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less. Knowing didn’t erase the last conversation you had with him.

“Primo?”

“Diavolina,” he responded in the same flat tone.

“Are you in trouble?”

He turned and gave you a reassuring smile. “What trouble could I be in?”

“The worrying kind. I mean, that’s him in there isn’t it? Your brother? With the girl?

“There is no need to worry, cara. It’s under control.”

You laughed angrily. “You’re really not going to tell me anything, are you? After everything—”

“Enough,” he chided. “Acting like a petulant child will not change things.”

“A child? Seriously? Go fuck yourself, Primo,” you spat and started down the pathway.

“Dia, wait—”

“No. Don’t think you can sweet talk your way out of this. Sure, you’re older than me. Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are hiding something from me. And that fucking hurts, Primo. Do you understand that? I don’t care what excuse you have for it. I don’t care if you’re trying to keep me or them safe. A secret like this is a shitty thing to keep from someone close to you—”

“I’m afraid,” he admitted quietly, cutting off your speech. “I am afraid and I have not felt fear like this in a very long time. You can understand that, yes?”

You nodded solemnly.

It stayed with you, haunting every waking moment. No one knew where he went. The brother and the girl tried their best to assure you he was fine, but it was obvious they didn’t know any more than you did. Your relationship with Primo was one thing, but you weren’t about to let two very hungry vampire strangers comfort you about it.

Darkness swallowed everything beyond the reach of your headlights as you finally approached the cottage, the withering exterior appearing sickly under the dull glow. An awful wind whipped around the property, kicking up leaves and dust as you stepped out of the car. The structure groaned under the force of it, as though it might crumble completely with a strong enough gust. It broke your heart to see the cottage this way, this little piece of utopia left to rot on its own.

What would Primo think?

You pushed your way inside and called out to the vampire, unable to break old habits even now. Aside from the occasional creaks and settling sounds, the house remained silent. It smelled of dust and stale air instead of tea or fresh flowers. No one was singing in the cramped kitchen, empty chairs still tucked under the table. You couldn’t bring yourself to focus on the state of things, not tonight anyway. In the morning maybe you’d have the energy to clean up a bit and make a few calls about repairs. But tonight you squeezed through the small hallway between the kitchen and the conservatory and past the rows of shelves lined neatly with bottles older than you. There were a dozen or so unlabeled bottles tucked away in a back corner, a place of high praise reserved for Primo’s most treasured vintage. You plucked one from the shelf before making your way back through the house and up the winding steps to the second floor.

Old photos and paintings lined the walls, a miniature gallery devoted to the time Primo had spent here. Newspaper clippings detailing the opening of his beloved botanical garden and other forgotten success stories of Aurea Valley were placed lovingly in frames beside pressed flowers and keepsakes leading up to the room at the end of the hall. You felt along the wallpaper, searching for the light switch in the dark. The ornate lamp on the bedside table clicked on, filling the room with a dim orange light. Its wiring had been taking apart and soldered back together at least three times since you’d met Primo, but he refused to let the thing go. There were many things like that in the cottage, pieces that had dulled and faded with time but were still just as important or sentimental as they’d always been.

The bedroom was left untouched in his absence, scattered with various items he’d left behind during his great getaway. For months it had hurt too much to face it, but now all you wanted—all you needed was to feel close to him again. You didn’t care if it was pathetic or sad or even insane. You needed the comfort and clarity of his pajamas and the fading scent of his cologne still trapped in the fibers. You needed to be in his bed, in his clothes, with his favorite wine because it was all you had left.

Just for one night, you told yourself and curled up in his blankets like you belonged there. It was technically your house, after all. It didn’t take much for the alcohol and general exhaustion to lull you into a deep sleep filled with sweet memories of your vampire.

“What do you think? Are you afraid, cara?”

“Of you? No,” you replied with a laugh. You paused, tilting your head as you stared at his silly store-bought costume. He had dyed his hair with one of those spray cans of color, turning it into a pitch-black helmet. A cheap one-size-fits-most tuxedo made of mystery fabric hung awkwardly off his shoulders while a massive plastic medallion painted gold held a cape around his neck. “Don’t you think it’s a little…”

“A little…?”

“I don’t know…isn’t Dracula a bit on the nose?”

Primo’s forehead creased as his mouth set in a hard line. “I’m not Dracula, cara.”

“Oh, you’re not doing, like, a Bela Lugosi thing?”

Primo was too busy continuing his rant to answer you. “Dracula was written in 1897, cara. I am a great deal older than Dracula. In fact, I am a great deal older than Vlad Țepeș himself! Older than Vlad Dracul!”

“Ok old man. Then who are you dressed as?

“Ah, eh. Someone much worse,” he offered gravely. “My brother Terzo.”

-x-

Primo’s stomach turned as he approached the cottage. The strange scent that encompassed the Valley only grew stronger the closer he got. Thick and sickly-sweet, the smell was everywhere as though something was marking its territory. Something or someone. It was hardly surprising that his absence would attract another being to this place. Under normal circumstances he might have praised them for being so bold. But here like this, he felt only anger, a deep burning rage toward whoever dared to commit such an unforgivable trespass. After what happened to Secondo and Terzo, this was nothing short of a declaration of war.

He wasn’t going to lose you or his home without one hell of a fight.

His movements were quiet and careful as he crept through the dense underbrush that had sprung up around the property. Whatever was here, whatever supernatural creature decided to follow you here wasn’t particularly interested in covering its tracks along the way. It did, however, remain hidden from view and Primo was too focused on your immediate safety to properly search for the intruder.

The full moon bathed the conservatory in a silvery light, hiding the interior from view. There was almost no light within the cottage, only the soft blue glow of a television shone somewhere on the second floor. He stared up at the window, following the layout of his home in his mind. His bedroom. You were in his bedroom. He closed his eyes, straining to hear your slow, relaxed breaths over the ambient noise of the woods. Inside this place, in this little castle he’d built, you were safe from whatever monsters lurked outside, free to dream of whatever your heart desired. It was oddly comforting to know you were near. That you were safe and healthy in this place. Possibly even happy. Maybe he should have known better than to build his comfort around you, but that’s where it was. That’s where it had been from the day he met you.

There was a time when a year would have meant nothing, gone as quickly as the blink of an eye. But Primo counted the days you were apart. Spent each moment sulking and brooding his way across continents while hiding in the kind of hotels where people didn’t ask too many questions. One day he hoped you would forgive him for leaving without an explanation. If he was honest, he’d spend eternity trying to earn your forgiveness if you asked.

A hopeless old vampire. What a fucking cliché he’d become.

He sighed, directing his focus toward his reflection in the glass. A perfectly normal face stared back at him, eyes bright and sharp. The fine lines he’d quietly developed over his first lifetime, all the little signs of age and worry, every survival badge he earned on his skin had dulled and smoothed over. A healthy glow, some would call it. A skincare routine Bathory would die for. A younger man stood before him, wrinkles replaced by soft skin and a relentless hunger he could barely control. Everything had a price and Fate demanded more than a pound of flesh for saving his brother.

She hadn’t lost her sense of irony, even after a millennia.

The more he fed, the younger he appeared. And when he tried to fight it, Fate filled his mind with horrific visions and turned his blood to fire.

He sighed again, heavily this time and his breath fogged up the glass. He was so deep in his own self-pity he didn’t see it. Didn’t hear a thing as a massive, shadowy figure picked him up and tossed him through the glass wall.

The car rocked gently as he drove, lulling you into a deeper sleep. You’ve really done it this time old man, he thought to himself as the forest squeezed against the road. What the hell was he doing? No. What the hell were you thinking? And just who the hell were you?

“Augh, my head,” you whined from the passenger seat, gripping your hair in your fists. After a beat you realized you were in unfamiliar surroundings with a strange man. You shot backward, body pressed against the door to create as much distance as possible. “What are you doing?”

Primo huffed, never taking his eyes off the road. “I couldn’t exactly leave you in my garden to bleed to death, piccola.”

“If you think you can just drag me somewhere to drain me—”

“I saved your life,” he corrected, raising his voice. “And I cleaned up your little mess.”

“So that means you just get to kidnap me?”

“Would you like me to take you back so you can explain to the local police just what you were doing back there?”

“Not really.”

“A simple thank you would do.”

“Pull over.”

He sighed and brought the car to rest on the shoulder. It took only seconds for you to jump out and begin to stomp your way down the road. “Piccola,” he called after you. “It’s dangerous out here.”

“More dangerous than riding around with a fucking vampire?” you shot back.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Depends on who you ask, I suppose. But you know what I am. Do you think you can outrun me?”

You let out a frustrated scream that echoed through the woods. A flock of birds flew from the trees, screeching back at you for making such a sound.

“I don’t have to outrun you if you don’t chase me.”

“Fair point. Would you like to get back in the car then?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You needed help. I helped.”

“Really? All I remember is you shoving a bunch of leaves in my mouth before I blacked out. How is that helping me? How is kidnapping me helping? And what the fuck do you care about what happens to me anyway?”

The question stung like salt in an open wound. When he found you there, writhing in pain as you bled out between hastily painted sigils and candles burned down to nothing he had truly only wanted to help. “I—if you need protection so badly you’re willing to risk performing that ritual…”

Your eye narrowed as you stalked toward him. “That’s—”

“I can offer you protection. Greater than anything that ritual has to offer.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why?”

Being evasive did him no favors, so he decided to just be honest with you. “Fate.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

He cast his gaze on the ground, drawing lazy circles in the dirt with his shoe. He sighed under the weight of his confession, preparing himself for any reaction. “It means I wrote that ritual, the one that nearly killed you. I created something in the naïveté of my youth—”

You laughed loudly, doubling over as you clutched your stomach. “That’s—that’s impossible,” you struggled between giggles. “You’d be what? A thousand years old?”

“Not quite.”

You swiped at the tears forming in your eyes, still struggling for breath between each burst of laughter. “You really expect me to believe you’re Primo Emeritus, don’t you?”

“I—I don’t…what exactly do you mean?”

“Half of the vampires out there claim to be Emeritus vampires. Do you think you’re the first?”

His brow furrowed. “I am the First. Why would anyone pretend to be—”

“Oh, not just anyone. Almost everyone.”

-x-

The sound of shattering glass dragged you from alcohol-soaked dreamlike memories. You shot up immediately searching the room for a possible the source of the noise. The window near the bed was still intact, its heavy, dusty drapes mocking you with their stillness. In your semi-conscious state, you realized the sound must have come from downstairs. The conservatory. That entire room would’ve looked like a jackpot for anyone hellbent on breaking glass for a thrill.

You were going to kill those little fuckers. 

Shoving your phone in your pocket, you climbed down from the massive bed and quickly made your way downstairs. As you crossed through the kitchen you flipped every light switch along the way, hoping that maybe the thought that someone lived here would be enough to scare off would be intruders.

 “Hello?” you called out as you reached the threshold of the conservatory. “This is private property asshole.” 

Nothing. You sighed, part in anger and part in relief. Just a couple of kids fucking around in the woods and ruining your perfectly good dreams. You flipped on the light and stepped into a pair of gardening boots before grabbing a broom.

“Jesus,” you muttered as you approached the broken pane. The entire 8-foot panel of glass was in jagged pieces scattered across the floor. “What the fuck did they throw?”

Something stirred behind you, a small, wounded sound followed by a grunt. You traced the noise past the overgrown plants and broken furniture, glass crunching under you boots with each step. Aside the worktable still cluttered with Primo’s last concoction, the figure of a man lay sprawled on the floor, barely moving. The sickening metallic smell of blood assaulted your senses as you took in the sight in front of you. The man was injured, his face dashed with several small cuts as through he’d gone through the window headfirst. It was difficult to tell the extent of the rest of his injuries, but you were sure they were there. He was the object that had broken the window.

Who throws a grown man through a window?

You looked back and forth between the man and the pattern of broken glass along the stone floor.

What throws a grown man through a window?

The man stirred, fingers twitching as he let out a hollow cough. You moved closer, kneeling beside him to get a better look at his face. His features were oddly familiar, blond hair, high cheekbones, and a prominent nose just like—no, it couldn’t be? The man in front of you appeared years younger than your vampire, but the resemblance was so striking, so startling it couldn’t possibly be anyone else.

“Who the hell?” you mumbled to yourself.

He began to cough again, quickly bringing a hand to his mouth to cover it. The action seemed to wake him from his unconscious state and he used the opportunity to slide away from you.

“Hey, it’s ok,” you offered gently.

“No. I—uh—” He looked up, eyes searching yours as he made some vague excuse. But his eyes—

“Primo,” you whispered, staring back into the stark white iris of his left eye. It wasn’t a question or an accusation, just a strange fact being presented to you as plainly as anything else. His face was full and free of the skull shaped paints he loved, but there was no doubt left. This was Primo Emeritus. Your Primo. “How is this possible?”

He winced and those familiar little lines around his eyes deepened like they would in the future—or had in the past. “Diavolina,” he began quietly. “I—”

“What happened to you? Where the hell have you been?”

Guilt flashed across his handsome features. “I was—”

“Nevermind. Let’s get you inside.”

“I can’t. It’s not safe—”

“When is it ever?” you snapped.

Shame now settled on his face, like a scolded child. “I must go, Diavolina. And I will return,” he added quickly. “But it’s not safe. I need to feed.”

Your brow furrowed as you processed what he’d said. There was always an awareness with your vampire; you had never denied what he was or what sustained him, but this was the first time you had ever heard him discuss it in such succinct terms.

“Primo, I don’t understand.”

“I will explain everything,” he managed through a grunt as he pushed himself up. “Everything, tesoro. I promise. Please, just trust me a little while longer.”

You nodded once and the vampire made an impossibly swift exit back through the broken panel. Primo had never made you a promise he didn’t keep.

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[echoingbirdsofprey]

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

7 - You're What My World Spins Around

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: EXPLICIT (MDNI!)

Warnings: Birth of a child, Mentions of death, swearing as every other chapter I don't even put it anymore hahah

A/N: I feel like this chapter is kinda crap? Idk, but anyway we are finally here, it's time for baby Jaycen to be born! Total disclaimer, I tried to do my research but I don't know shit about pregnancy or babies or any of that so I did my best with details. No, I did not go into full details of the labor and all that just kind of glanced over it. I just felt this this was a huge plot point that's been looming for so long that I need to just get it down. As always comments, reblogs, likes, and feedback is always appreciate 100%. Thank y'all for continuing reading! Pics from pinterests! Gifs by @kaizsche I hope you enjoy this one.

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @dizzybee03 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

Tyler and Jake were born in the very early morning and gave their mother hell. Well, Jake did more so than Tyler, but altogether her labor had been nearly forty hours. Tyler came into the word silent as the night and Jake came screeching like a fighter jet, his attempt to break the sound barrier at the first try. The joke became, as the boys got older that Tyler snuck into the world and Jake came in like he'd been left behind by Tyler, and that he was pissed about it. Their father, Randall Owens, was the proudest man on earth, and the most supportive too. He took as much time off as he could when Jeanie had the boys. He spent as much time as her, if not more sometimes, with the boys, getting to know their individual personalities and their quirks. In most ways the boys were the same, but in some they were totally opposite.

For a long time after Randall died, Jeanie was devastated. She didn’t know how to go on without him, but she figured it out. She raised up two wild little boys who were always getting in trouble, and always just like their father in the one way that carried them through life. Both of Jeanie Owens' boys had compassion for others. 

Both of her boys were lovers and fighters. She’d taught them to always give people a chance, but to be adamant when they wanted something and to not settle. She taught them to go after their dreams. That’s why Tyler worked his ass off becoming the best bull rider he could. That’s why Jake got top of his class at the Naval Academy and got into the Top Gun program. That’s why both boys were both book smart and street smart. That’s why both of Jeanie’s boys, when they wanted something, they went after it and didn’t give up until they got it. 

Nothing was handed to Tyler and Jake. Jeanie didn’t bend when it came to rules. She made them do chores from a young age to learn responsibility. She made them care for all the horses. They were driving before they were supposed to be. And when Jeanie met Kenneth Seresin, those boys gave him hell. The boys were respectful of course, but that didn’t mean they didn’t challenge Kenny. What they remembered of Randall was how he had been with Jeanie. Always gentle with her, always supportive, and even though at their young ages they didn’t quite understand all of it, they remembered it later in life. There had been so much love in the little ranch in Dardanelle, Arkansas and until Kenny showed them the same level of reverence for their mother, those boys gave him a run for his money.

Kenny did everything with Tyler and Jake that he could. It was as if he was trying to make up for lost time and the loss of their father. He tried to be the best replacement to Randall that he could. He took them to roping events and the high school rodeos to compete. He took them up in military helicopters and on base before he was honorably discharged due to an injury, He helped them fix old beat up trucks that the boys had bought with their own savings. He taught them that no matter when you meet a person, you can love them as if you’ve always loved them their entire life. Tyler and Jake knew he wasn't their father by blood, but because of how he was with them, they treated him all the same in the end. And Kenny was damn proud to call those boys his sons.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Tyler and Dustin took turns caring for Ducati, but not without Georgia right there, on the outside of the pen. By Tyler’s rules, until Jaycen was born, she wasn’t allowed in the pen with the horse, just in case he spooked or charged at her. However, the mustang was proving more trustworthy each day. Each time Dustin went in, whether it was to scrub his waters and refill them, pick out his poop, give him hay, or throw him grain, Ducati followed him just like the puppies. When Tyler went in to do the same chores, Ducati only wanted Tyler to love on him. Tyler would rub the mustang’s forehead, and then his neck, and he’d even offer his belly and his back for scratches. After a week, Tyler was able to touch the horse all over. After two, he was able to pick up each of his feet, without a halter, and after three...well Georgia wanted Tyler to try and throw a saddle pad over his back.

“Gee, I don’t know. Seems kinda fast.” Tyler said, as Ducati pushed his neck toward Tyler, begging to be scratched. Tyler obliged readily and then he glanced at Georgia, who had thrown the saddle pad over the top bar of the panels.

“He trusts you. I trust you. Just give it a try.” Georgia said softly, reaching out to rub Ducati’s nose. Tyler slowly took the saddle pad from the top bar and held it out for the gelding to sniff. He was uninterested and just pushed his neck toward Tyler again. Tyler raised a brow and then touched the gelding with it. Again, uninterested. Tyler tilted his head and then gingerly placed the pad on Ducati’s back. The gelding glanced at him and licked his lips.

“She said he’d had a saddle on.” Georgia said, sneaking a piece of carrot from her pocket to the gelding’s awaiting mouth. He churches happily on it and then turned his nose toward Tyler. 

“Got nothin’ bud, sorry. Just a silly saddle pad.” Tyler chuckled as Ducati poked his nose toward Georgia’s belly. She smiled and Tyler spoke again. “He’s smart that’s for sure. I figured since she said he had been buckin’, he wouldn’t be too keen on the saddle pad at all.”

“I think he doesn’t care much about the equipment. She didn’t give us the full story. I’d put money on him spookin’ at somethin’ while she was ridin’ and he bucked, bolted, and got her off. She was too scared to get back on so he’s probably squirrelly under saddle, not on the ground. I think he was how he was at her place because she never got rid of any of that anxiety. She just left it in there. Here, he didn’t feel like he needed any anxiety because we were gentle and calm from the start. And you’re not afraid of anythin’ so.” Georgia explained, as Tyler’s gaze settled on Ducati. The gelding swished his tail and cocked a hip. 

“Can you get Jake?” He asked and Georgia nodded, going back into the barn. Jake had been helping to muck out the stalls and Georgia had put Sam in charge of brushing horses. Georgia was determined at some point to get Sam on one of their horses and see if she remembered how to ride. 

“Hey Jake, Tyler needs you.” Georgia said, just as Jake was pushing the wheelbarrow out of the stall he had been cleaning. He closed the door behind him and pushed the wheelbarrow out the front so that he could dump it after. Tyler, being ever ingenuitive, had come up with a dump trailer and manure spreader to use for the back fields, effectively fertilizing them so that when the summer came around, the horses would have beautiful grass to go out on.  

“Can you grab my saddle?” Tyler asked as Jake stepped out of the barn. He immediately doubled back and Georgia inhaled a sharp breath.

“Okay, now who’s pushing it?” She asked, as she hung her arms over the rail. Ducati once again, placed his nose gently at her belly. Jaycen kicked hard then and Georgia closed her eyes and groaned softly. 

“Did he just talk back for me ?” Tyler smirked, as he placed his hand on her belly.

“I think so. That hurt a bit.” She said and Tyler chuckled as Jake reappeared, Tyler’s huge roping saddle easily slung over one arm. 

“Seems like Jaycen wants his horse ready for when he comes out.” Tyler joked and Jake threw the saddle over the panel so Tyler could pull it down. Georgia kept her eyes on Ducati the whole time and the mustang barely moved. In fact, he looked bored. 

“Okay buddy, let’s try somethin’ huh?” Tyler said, stepping over to Ducati with the saddle. He gave an out loud count of one, two, three and then swung the saddle up and onto the horse’s back. Ducati flinched a little at the weight, but his expression stayed the same and he licked his lips again. Tyler reached under to grab the cinch and secure it, then the back cinch. He pulled the breastplate around and buckled that before stepping back. Ducati simply followed Tyler, seeming to not even notice the saddle that had been put on him.

“Do I dare?” Tyler asked, glancing at Georgia, then Jake.

“If you’re gettin’ on, I’m takin’ a video for Tiktok, you dumb sonofabitch.” Jake laughed and held up his phone. “Dumb ways to die!” He sung, which made Tyler laugh, but not Georgia. She glared at him.

“ Don’t be stupid, Tyler. ” She said. Tyler patted Ducati and then turned to Georgia with a small smile.

“Oh let me have a little fun, darlin’.” He mused as he reached over the gate to grab the rope halter they had been using for the gelding. It was old and tattered, but still solid. Ducati walked over, placing his nose through the halter and letting Tyler secure it. He rubbed the horse’s neck and then brought him to the middle of the pen. “Any advice before I ruin this horse, Peach?”

“If you get on and he bucks you off...well...you’re fixin’ it later, Arkansas .” Her tone was well on the way to annoyed. Tyler placed his foot in the stirrup, bouncing a few times and paying attention to the horse’s ears. They flicked back and forth and he blinked a few times, but stood remarkably still. Tyler jumped up and laid across the saddle, then hopped back down. He repeated this step a few times before finally swinging his leg over the other side. He felt Ducati go round and suck up his belly underneath the saddle. Tyler grabbed the horn and the back of his saddle, ready for whatever was about to happen. Everyone held their breath, except Tyler. He took a deep breath and as if he was back in the chute, he blew the breath out at the same time as Ducati exploded into the air.

He vaguely heard Georgia yell at him, he heard Jake whoop and shout and he saw Sam and Dustin run out of the barn from the corner of his eye. Tyler pulled himself tight to the saddle and as Ducati quite literally bronced underneath him, Tyler fought the urge to move his legs in a spurring motion like he used to do when he rode bulls. Even though it had been years, it was hard to quell something that had been so ingrained in his brain as a habit.

They made it about two times around the round pen before Ducati lost his balance and hit Tyler’s leg on the panel, scaring himself and making Tyler yelp. Georgia turned away, the nauseous dread creeping up from the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t watch. Jake was still filming and both Sam and Dustin’s mouths were ajar in awe as Tyler too lost his balance, lost his grip on the cheyenne roll on the back of the saddle, and scared Ducati even more as he tumbled from the mustang’s back onto the dirt. He landed with a loud thud, on his ass and Ducati immediately froze. 

“TYLER!” Georgia nearly screamed, knowing he’d fallen. The wind had been knocked out of him, but when she heard him laughing, she sighed heavily, relieved. “You fuckin’ idiot! I say it out of love and because you scared me, but you’re a dumb ass!”

“Ah, I never thought I’d be so turned on havin’ my pregnant wife reprimand me.” He chuckled and coughed, then shot her a flirty glance as he stood stiffly and rubbed his ass. If looks could kill, Tyler would be a dead man walking up to kiss his wife. She brushed the dust off of him and glanced around him. Ducati had walked up behind him, apologetically. Tyler rubbed the gelding’s nose. “Bud, not your fault. I pushed ya. I also fell off. Bad ridin’ on my part.”

“Well, now you have to do it again.” Georgia said, tugging at his shirt. He leaned down and kissed her again and then smirked. Jake was doubled over, laughing his ass off, and Sam smacked him gently. Jake stood and took a deep breath before leaning back on the panels.

“Yes ma’am. Anythin’ I could do different?” Tyler asked, as he was ready to mount up again. He was a little shaky and his hips were stiff, but he knew if he didn’t get back on it would be bad for both of them. Tyler had dissociated during the bucking fit, trying to block out any sort of fear or anxiety he had, although it didn’t feel the same as it did with the bulls. He felt like he could trust Ducati. He knew he couldn’t trust the bulls. And, he lost his balance and fell because he started thinking. He figured if he stayed on this time, Ducati might quit bucking on his own, knowing that his rider could stick it out and not be afraid.

“Just don’t fall off again. You’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.” Georgia said softly, placing her head on her hands on the panel rail. She blew out a long breath as Tyler climbed aboard again.

“That the first time you been bucked off since your accident?” Jake asked and Tyler nodded.

“Wasn’t that bad, He’s not trying to get me off, he’s just scared shitless. If I can stick it, he’ll quit.” Tyler said, looking to Georgia for guidance. He picked up the rope and not feeling Ducati ball up this time, he asked him to turn left. Ducati obliged, moving off softly. Tyler asked for a little more speed, clicking his tongue to get the horse to trot. He wiggled his legs a little as well, unsure of how much education the horse had. Ducati scooted forward and when Tyler didn’t tense up, the horse took a breath and let it out. 

Tyler asked for a little more again, urging the horse to canter. As soon as he stepped into it, Ducati became overwhelmed with worry and went to bucking again. He folded in two and Tyler quickly grabbed for the saddle. The bucking fit was shorter this time and Tyler stayed on successfully, letting Ducati come down to a trot again. He asked for canter, got a few crow hops, then Ducati slowed down. The little horse had a comfortable trot and an even canter that Tyler asked for once more. There was no broncing this time and as Ducati cantered around a little, Tyler realized what he had just done. He let Ducati come to a full halt, right by Georgia.

“How’d I do?” He asked, rubbing the horse all over, just making sure he was okay with everything that was going on. Georgia nodded.

“Not bad, Arkansas. You might get good at this if you keep at it.’ Georgia teased and Tyler leaned over the panels to kiss her. He dismounted and immediately removed the tack and handed it all to Jake to take back in the barn. Georgia turned and began to walk back into the barn, satisfied with her husband’s stupidity that actually worked out in the end. She threw a lascivious grin his way and waved as she spoke. “You might even get a surprise later on.”

Tyler’s eyes widened and he smiled. He glanced at Dustin, who pursed his lips and motioned for him to go follow Georgia. Jake and Sam had headed back into the barn to finish up what they had been doing. Tyler knew he'd be sore for a few days but it was worth it if he helped Ducati feel a little better, and made less work for Georgia once she could get back on and put some more time into him.

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Jake had taken to doing extra sessions with the puppies and he even helped Tyler with their dogs. Ryker had imparted upon Jake that it was imperative to be consistent with the dogs, so while down in Oklahoma, Jake spent at least two hours each day with each dog. One in the morning and one at night if he could, going through every aspect of training that he had learned so far. Sam spent about an hour with each dog as well, usually taking them as a group for a walk. They wanted the dogs well rounded in a pack and as individuals so doing this would only help and it made the bond between the three dogs stronger too. Jake had even taught Sam everything in the short amount of time that they’d been there. 

Ballast exceeded every expectation that Ryker had for the pup. Jake never had any, so Ballast surprised him at every turn. At just over eight months old, the dog was essentially a lanky, mini version of what he would be as an adult. The bite work was where Ballast really shined. Jake already had a competition ready focus heel available at any moment. Jake could out Ballast from any bite with just his voice command. And Ballast would take down anyone for Jake. A true protection dog in the making. Jake noticed something else though and that was that Ballast was also fiercely loyal to Samantha. That was ultimately what Jake wanted, so that when he wasn’t around, Samantha wouldn't have to worry about a thing. He knew Rocco would give his life for Sam, but Ballast would back him up and avenge that death if he had to, tenfold.

Muster on the other hand, was not what they expected. She excelled in all the obedience and protection work. Her bite work was great and she was a powerful little fur missile in her own right, but Muster wanted much more than anything to cuddle and hang out with Sam. Muster was absolutely Sam’s dog and while she liked Jake, she found solace in Samantha’s company. Muster also knew that Georgia was pregnant and if the cattle dogs and Ballast got too rambunctious around her, Muster would break it up. The female dog knew the importance of rest and recuperation for everyone. She wasn’t exactly a party pooper, but she did like her peace and quiet. She was a calming presence for the other dogs and that was an excellent thing to have with such a high drive, high energy pack.

Jake had even taken to teaching Rocco some of the obedience training. Rocco actually took to it pretty well too, considering his breed. Dachshunds tended to be stubborn and difficult to work with if you didn’t know how to motivate them. Jake figured out that Rocco’s motivation was simply pleasing Samantha so any time he worked with Rocco, he made sure that Sam was there and she was ready to praise him. Jake had never thought he’d grow to love the little dog as much as he did, but there was a special spot in his heart for Rocco. One that he thought would be empty from Dixie forever, but he was certain that the little red dog might be able to fill that hole with his big, courageous personality. 

🌪️ 🛩️🛻⚓

Georgia firmly believed that just like the calves and foals that her father used to raise, it wasn't up to mom when the baby came. It was all up to when that baby wanted out. And at exactly nine months to the day, Jaycen Alexander Owens decided he was ready to see the world for the first time.

Georgia had been laying down for the majority of the day, not feeling particularly well. She’d been somewhat nauseous all day. She picked at the lunch that Tyler had made and when she decided she couldn’t lay down any longer, she elected to take a walk outside, ending up in the barn, which she had come to expect. She’d felt some pressure in her pelvis just after lunch. She mentioned it to Tyler and he’d been concerned, checking in on her every hour or so after that. She’d also felt like when she went back out around dinner time, that she was waddling like a penguin. Her steps felt particularly heavy the longer she stayed out there and she was nearly done feeding the horses. She just had to drop grain but she had an overwhelming feeling that something wasn’t right.

Tyler had been working on his truck, had gone in for a shower because he had oil and soot everywhere, and had come back out to help Georgia finish feeding the horses dinner. He’d assumed that was where she was when he didn’t find her in their bedroom or on the couch. Jake hadn’t noticed her step out either. When he walked into the barn, Georgia was standing frozen, looking down at the barn floor. Her water had broken and it was time.

“Gee? You okay?” Tyler placed a hand on her back, feeling her shaking.

“Tyler...we have to go to the hospital. Like now.” She said, glancing at him and he could see fear in her eyes, wide as she tried to breathe evenly.

“Wait why...oh..oh shit...baby's comin?” Tyler's eyes widened too and he took her hand and began to lead her to the front of the barn.

“Very much yes!” She exclaimed as they crossed the threshold of the barn.

“Got it hold on! I'll be back in a sec!” He said, letting her lean on the door frame. He called the dogs and swung the front door open, yelling to his brother.

“Jake! Start my truck! Gotta get to the hospital. Dogs! Inside!” Tyler yelled as he burst through the door, all six dogs bounding through the open space, nearly knocking him over in the process.

“Baby time?” Jake asked excitedly, leaping from the couch and grabbing his boots. Sam, who had been sitting next to him, got the dogs settled, and then grabbed her shoes as well.

“Baby time!” Tyler exclaimed, turning on his heels to go help Georgia the rest of the way to the truck. 

“Woohoo! I'm aboutta be an uncle! And you’re gonna be an aunt!” Jake hugged Sam, then kissed her hard, making her giggle as they headed out the door. Once they were all settled in the truck, they were off.

Tyler made the drive short, nearly getting pulled over, but the cop recognized them and knowing that Georgia was pregnant, realized why Tyler Owens, the Tornado Wrangler,  was speeding down Interstate 177. They took Georgia to a room immediately and got her prepped. Tyler helped her change into a hospital gown, his hands gentle as they then guided her into the open space of the room. Dr. Ginnie Halstead was going to be helping deliver, and she was the one they'd been seeing throughout all of their appointments, so they were comfortable with her. Then the waiting began.

Jake had made sure that the bag in the back of Tyler’s truck with everything that Georgia needed, including some extra clothes for them both, some of the onesies they’d gotten for Christmas, extra toiletries, and some snacks among other things, had made its way into the room. He and Sam were going to stay until Georgia was actively giving birth, then they would step out and let her and Tyler be with each other. 

“Tyler, this is too early.” Georgia said, as she paced back and forth. Her contractions were getting closer together, slowly but surely. 

“Doc said it’s fine. Everything’s been good so far. Sometimes they come a little early. We wanted this.” He said, finally sitting down after having followed her back and forth for the past thirty minutes. 

“I know but it feels too early .” She said softly, glancing over at Jake and Sam. They were curled on the small couch that was situated in the corner of the room. The room itself was nice, a little larger than a normal single bed, plenty of space to move around, a spot for the baby and a full bathroom with a shower. The lighting was softer than a normal hospital suite and it put Georgia at ease, slightly. 

“It feels too early because we were both freaking out about this like a month ago and now we're here. It’s actually happening.” Tyler said, reaching for her, stopping her. 

“Why are you so calm right now?” Georgia asked, pausing her pacing.

“Well one of us has to be and it sure as shit ain’t you. Respectfully darlin’, you’re supposed to be a little scared.” Tyler’s eyes were soft as he watched her from his seat on the bed. His hand lingered at her side and as soon as the next contraction came, she was off again, walking back and forth. She breathed in and out, slowly and carefully. They subsided and her eyes met his.

“You’re not scared?” She asked. Tyler stood, walking toward her slowly. He pulled her into his arms, his hands careful around her waist. 

“I’m terrified but I’m holding it together for you.” He admitted readily. This stirred Jake’s attention, just as Georgia began walking again. Even though Jake knew how to be with Sam, he was still taking notes from his brother. 

Several hours later, and lots of pacing, Georgia’s legs were starting to shake. She had been walking and pausing endlessly. She feared for when she needed to be still and that time was coming rapidly. Dr. Halstead had come in a few times to check on her and see how her pain was. They’d decided she was going to have an epidural as close as possible to when she needed to push, as sometimes the epidural could slow down the process.

Tyler had pulled her onto the bed, putting a halt to her pacing that was becoming slightly frantic. He situated her between his legs and began to massage her shoulders.

“Just breathe, mama. You got this.” He whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. She leaned back against him and grinned. He'd removed his boots so that he could be on the bed with her, so for the past hour or so he'd been sliding around in his socks.

“At least your feet don't stink.” She murmured, taking a deep breath as another contraction steamrolled over her. He felt her shudder as she grabbed for his legs and leaned forward. His lips turned up as they met the back of her neck. 

“No, darlin’ they don't.” He chuckled softly as the doctor came in to let them know that the anesthesiologist would be along shortly to administer her epidural, so Tyler would have to scoot out from behind her, but he took up until the last second that he could to stay there. He had taken to massaging down her back and her sides until he had to get up. He took a hold of one of her hands and gently pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Gettin’ about that time. You ready?” He asked. She nodded and squeezed his hand as she felt pressure at her back where the doctor positioned the needle and administered the medication. It only took about twenty minutes for Georgia to feel some relief. 

Sam and Jake elected to leave the room then. Jake shook his brother's hand, hugged him, and kissed Georgia gently on the top of her head. Sam hugged Tyler and she rubbed her hand up and down Georgia's arm a few times. 

“Good luck!” Jake said as he and Sam marched out of the room and headed to the waiting area. The doctor and another nurse came in and prepared everything for the next stage. Georgia grabbed for Tyler then, nearly crushing his hand.

“Tyler. Don't go anywhere. Please.” She said, her eyes darting to his. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. He knew she was scared shitless right now. 

“No need to worry. I'm gonna be right here the whole time. No matter what.” He said softly. He stood to the side of the bed, as close as he could to her, his arm around her shoulders. Their doctor smiled as her and the nurse readied everything they needed in the event of complications. They had discussed what could go wrong and what they would do if something did happen, but they were hoping for an easy birth. 

“If it will help and you're comfortable with it, Tyler can sit behind you like he was earlier. I find especially with first time mothers, the more encouraging their birth partner is, the smoother it goes.” The doctor explained and without hesitation, Georgia scooted forward so that he could climb in behind her again. He locked her in with his legs on either side of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her cheek, then rested the side of his head against hers. Georgia shifted uncomfortably, and Dr. Halstead reassured her that everything looked good so far.

“Okay, Georgia, you're gonna push on my count, ready? One, two, three, push!” Dr. Halstead's voice was calm but somehow excited. Georgia bared down, and as she did her grip on Tyler's thighs tightened. He'd probably have bruises there, but it would all be worth it in the end. 

At 3:01 AM, on February 28th, Jaycen Alexander Owens was born quietly, giving his parents the single most terrifying reason to hold their breaths...and a million reasons to finally let them out in relief. 

Jaycen didn't cry at first. Just like his father, the boy was reserved from the moment his eyes opened and took his first breath. Georgia feared for the worst, but in hearing her son's little whine, she was overcome with emotion. She was exhausted, panting, sweating bullets but she was so relieved and tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the nurse take him and clean him up. 

Tyler was also crying. He wiped his tears on her shoulder as he waited for the nurse to bring their son to them. Now, it was all real. His dream had come true. After the nurse had dried him off, she wrapped Jaycen loosely in the blanket they brought, a sky blue one that was extra soft, and handed the little bundle to Georgia. She held him  gently to her chest, the first skin to skin contact sending a wave of happiness through her. He was slightly cooler than she'd anticipated, but Dr. Halstead reminded her that she just went through labor with nothing more than the epidural. Her body temperature and heart rate was up like she’d run a marathon from the incredible feat she’d accomplished.

Tyler stayed seated behind her and peered over her shoulder at the seven pounds, three ounces with sparse sandy brown hair atop his head. He looked tiny in Georgia's arms and Tyler was sure he'd look even smaller in his own. He reached around and ran a single finger over the soft hair on Jaycen's head. 

“That's our son, Gee. I'm so fuckin' proud of you, Peach.” He whispered, making her smile. She let out a sigh of relief as everyone else cleared the room. Dr. Halstead was going to let Jake and Sam know that Jaycen had arrived, but that Georgia needed to rest for a bit before they could go in and see her and the baby. The doctor gave Georgia a crash course on breastfeeding and helped her with the first time. When Jaycen took to it no problem, Dr. Halstead sighed.

“If only they could all be this easy!” She said and Tyler smirked.

“He’s an Owens. He’ll give us plenty of trouble later on.” He said and Dr. Halstead nodded. In order to make everything easiest for Georgia, they let her stay in the room she’d been in. As long as Jaycen remained healthy, they could take him home in the next couple of days, but for now, Tyler and Georgia would be staying there. 

After resting for a bit, Tyler asked Jake and Sam to enter the room. Jaycen was sleeping comfortably in Georgia’s arms so they were quiet. Jake actually cried. They were, of course, happy tears, congratulating his brother with a bear hug. Georgia offered for him to hold Jaycen and he readily accepted. Jake was so careful taking his nephew. Tyler, trying to not immediately be a helicopter parent in any sense of the word, left Jake to hold Jaycen, knowing his brother was more than responsible enough to hold a baby. Especially his own nephew. Sam was careful as she brushed her fingertips over Jaycen's little hairy head. She smiled wide and glanced up at Jake.

“You look pretty good with a baby in your arms.” She mused and Jake chuckled. 

“This is gonna be all I can think about, Sam.” He said softly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

Over those couple of days, there had been an influx of people. Tyler and Jake’s parents were the first to show up, excited to meet their grandson with two legs. Then came all the Wranglers. Boone and Lily couldn’t wait to see the little bundle of joy. Javi came bearing gifts, some more clothes for Jaycen and he snuck away before Kate and Scott appeared. Kate was ecstatic, hugging Georgia and giving Tyler a punch on the arm. Scott was quiet and he simply congratulated them, but when Kate asked to hold Jaycen, it stirred something in Scott. Seeing the girl he’d developed feelings for with a baby in her arms, sent his mind to a far off place and he had no idea how to get his life there, or how to even begin the conversation he wanted to have with her. He wondered if it was even in his future. But that was all for another time. Dexter and Dani had popped in last, bringing some snacks for Tyler and Georgia and a little stuffed pony for Jaycen. 

Tyler and Georgia couldn’t wait to bring Jaycen home to meet the dogs and the horses. God knows especially Ducati would be waiting for him.

[theggning]

Luis as Don Quixote

Luis' affection for/continuing references to Don Quixote are one of my favorite little details in RE4make. We find several files that mention it was his favorite book as a child, and of course he brings it up in chapter 11, casting himself as Don Quixote (the "dashing" hero), Leon as Sancho Panza (the goofy sidekick), and Ashley as Dulcinea (the beautiful, kidnapped princess.)

For the uninitiated, Don Quixote is an early 17th century Spanish novel by Miguel de Cervantes about a middle aged nobleman whose obsession with books leads him to become a "knight," setting out to live the romantic ideals of chivalry and make the world a better place. However, out of delusion or idealism bordering on delusion, he makes foolish mistakes and causes a lot of trouble (for instance, the famous "tilting at windmills" incident.) The novel is a parody of the chivalric stories popular at the time, and interpretations over the years vary on whether Don Quixote is a comedic or a tragic figure, whether we are meant to feel pity for him or view him as a fool and a menace to society.

RE4make shows us that a young Luis was inspired to become a scientist by the plaga infection and death of his grandfather, and set out on his career in the outside world with good intentions. But just like Don Quixote, his obsession and idealism led him to making mistakes, both in his work for Umbrella and his affiliation with Los Illuminados. Though it's implied Luis kept some kind of moral compass intact (he quit Umbrella even before everything went to hell, and he was working to undermine and counter Saddler for some time,) he feels responsible for the collateral damage wrought by his work and blames himself for not seeing his mistakes before it was too late to prevent them.

I just find the whole thing really poignant. Luis holds lifelong enthusiasm for a story about a man who wants to make the world a better place, but who screws up over and over again. Regardless, Don Quixote keeps trying, hoping he'll be able to live up to the hero he's always wanted to be. The "Man of La Mancha" Quixote himself never succeeds at this, eventually returning to his ordinary life and regretful of the harm he has caused.

Luis, on the other hand, really does become a hero. No matter his past actions and no matter how sketchy he acts, by the time he announces his partnership with Leon, Luis is fully committed to a cause greater than saving his own skin. He makes an ACTIVE CHOICE to help Leon and Ashley when it is completely at odds with his own survival, and when he has the means of his own rescue in hand. If he left with Ada as soon as he recovered the Amber, Luis would have lived longer-- but more than likely fallen right back into his same old mistakes and handed over a bioweapon to Wesker. Choosing to help Leon and Ashley seals his fate, but it unquestionably saves both of their lives-- not to mention leads to the chain of events that end Saddler and Los Illuminados, potentially saving the world.

Unlike Don Quixote, Luis does manage to become a hero in the end. And unlike the original game, RE4make acknowledges and remembers it long after he's already gone. Dr. Luis Serra Navarro really was a fine knight, and he really did save the day.

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 4 - Nuthin' but Boothill Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Still very wild to me when people try to gotcha Jason with the whole "if you can kill other people for being evil why can't they kill you" when jason is like. One of the most passively suicidal characters I've ever seen. What if man

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[shannonsketches]

he's so important to me

[achingly-shy]

AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D SEASON 1 -> SEASON 3

[oceandiagonale]

Actually, Guzman is his spanish name.

OH YEAH some other folks pointed that out too, makes sense since it's an irl Spanish name (probably why I see it around a lot!) 😳

(normally it's a surname, I've only seen it used as a first name once in a blue moon -- but also in the pokemon world it's pretty clear that naming conventions aren't the same lol)

[sysig]

Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)