#it's been eighteen years make this man take a nap

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Martin: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Hero of Kvatch But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Martin: O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?

Hero of Kvatch: Is it working?

[ameliora-j]

‧₊˚ piercer!ron weasley x reader ‧₊˚

so anyway this has been on my mind since i got my nipples pierced specifically bc of the way i was moaning like a lil bitch in the piercer’s chair 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

content → piercer!ron, needles, nipple play, voyeurism, slight pain kink, praise, nipple piercings, blood mention, lightheadedness, 18+ BLOG MDNI

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡

you’re anxious as you walk into the shop, but you know you have to do this. it’s been years upon years since you’ve wanted this specific piercing—ever since you turned eighteen to be exact. you called on one of your breaks at work, asking if the tattoo shop did nipple piercings.

the kind lady connected you with the shop’s piercer—who to your surprise was a man with an english accent. after telling you the price, he asks specifically for cash. when you see the exact cash amount in your wallet, you figure it’s a sign. anytime that you plan in advance for any kind of piercing or tattoo, you lose the confidence of going nearly the day of—so it’s now or never.

when you walk in, a girl with bright pink hair looks around to see if anyone was available for a walk in. most of them were half asleep, and you feel bad for waking them up from their naps—but they don’t seem to mind. you’re surprised that they aren’t busy on a saturday evening, but a brunette man with round glasses stands and stumbled to the desk, ready to ask what tattoo you have in mind.

“um… hi… i called earlier um a-about… about nipple piercings” you stammer shyly, unable to hide the blush growing on your cheeks.

he wasn’t overly muscular or large, his small amount of tummy pudge peeking out as he stretched his arms high above his head, revealing more ink lining his torso.

“oh!” the man nods as he turns around and walks towards the back. “ron! piercing” you hear a soft grumble and a deep sigh—not of annoyance, but from just waking up. a tall redheaded man with broad shoulders appears. he has sleeves of tattoos lining his arms and some small tattoos on his hands. there was a small stud piercing beneath his eye, a few tattoos on his face as well.

you feel as though your breath is knocked out of your chest as he smiles at you, a small whine leaving his lips as he finishes his deep stretch. “sorry, i just woke up” he chuckles.

“oh no, don’t worry… i’m surprised you guys aren’t more busy tonight” you say, and he nods in agreement as he grabs the papers.

“i know, i was thinking the same thing” he chuckles, grabbing a pen. “i just need you to initial and sign this paper and then i need your id” he tells you, handing the paper and pen over to him. you nod softly and do as he says, passing over your id and scanning over the paper, initialing each line.

it isn’t long before you’re done and he comes back up to the front, leading you to his small section of the tattoo shop. “go ahead and sit right there” he nods, pointing to the tattoo chair as he looks over his tool tray and all that he has. you sit down in the chair, making yourself comfortable as you take your bag off and adjust yourself.

you learn quickly that ron isn’t much of a talker, but thankfully neither are you. he already has his tray set up, asking you a few quick questions as he moves everything over towards you. “so… obviously i don’t have a privacy curtain, i’m sorry about that” he blushes a bit as he finishes washing his hands. “If you just… bare with me a bit” he chuckles nervously.

he looks around his small station, noting that it’s basically out in the open. he’s a sweet man, you learn quickly, so you smile at him. “that’s alright” you reassure him. you wiggle a bit in the seat, still slightly anxious. “i’ll be fine” you nod, more so assuring yourself than him this time.

“go ‘head and take off your shirt, and then if you can just pull down your bra for me” he nods, turning around towards his desk and getting a little care package ready for when you go—wanting to give you at least some semblance of privacy while undressing.

when he turns back around, his cheeks tint pink as he looks first at your boobs then up at you. “you can just turn and face this way” he nods as he rolls over in the small circle chair. you do as he says and face him just as he turns to his tool tray. though he doesn’t have a privacy curtain, he uses his large body and broad shoulders to cover your breasts from the other piercers and the large windows—there were no other patrons in the shop besides you, so this made you feel incredibly at ease. “have you had your nipples pierced before?” he asks.

“no, never” you shake your head. he notices the tremor in your voice and gives you a little reassuring smile. he can tell you’re anxious, and he’s doing everything he can to ease your nerves. “i just have one rule for all my tattoo artists, piercers, nurses… anyone that comes near my body with a needle” you ramble a bit as you list the different occupations.

he chuckles a bit as he nods, grabbing an alcohol wipe to clean your nipples. “what is it?” he hums.

“don’t count.” you say seriously. “i don’t want 1, 2, 3 or 3, 2, 1… if you count i’ll tell you to stop and just go home” you tell him. ron laughs a bit harder, his orange curls bobbing as he nods in understanding.

“alright, i can do that” he nods. “i’m just gonna clean them, and then i’ll mark them and show you, and after that i’ll do the piercing” he informs you, and you’re nodding along with each thing he says. once you’ve gotten the nitty-gritty out of the way, you keep your head down, watching his arms and his body as he works. “do you have a preference of which one you want me to do first?” he asks.

“no” you shake your head. “just go for it” you giggle a bit, and he smiles at you. ron takes a gloved hand, starting with your left tit and gently pinching your nipple between his fingers. he flicks it a few times, his brows pinching together in focus as he plays with your nipple in order to get it hard. you don’t even notice ron has the needle in his hand until you feel it piercing through the sensitive skin.

you suck in air through your teeth, squeezing your hands into fists as you try, but fail, to bite back a whine. “breathe… breathe, it’s okay” ron whispers softly, inching a bit closer to you. “you can squeeze my shoulder if you need to… you won’t mess me up” he says softly. his movements are slow and deliberate, taking time to not mess up your piercing as he pushes the needle through to the other side.

a moan of pain tumbles past your lips once more as you squeeze his shoulder and grit your teeth. “owowowow” you whine, trying your hardest not to squirm or cringe away in pain.

“i know, i’m sorry” he murmurs softly. “you’re doing so good, we’re almost there” he whispers. just as he says that, you feel the needle poke through the other side, and you let out a sigh of relief. your relief is short lived as he pushes the jewelry through the new hole he just made in your body and another high pitched moan tumbles past your lips. “there we go…” he says softly, gently rubbing your side. “i just have to screw this in and then i’ll move on to the other side” he tells you as he grabs the ball end of the jewelry.

the second one is nowhere near as painful as the first—going in much easier as well. however, it still has you making those pretty little sounds on that are making ron’s cock harden as he wonders what other sounds he can pull from you. “that’s it” he praises gently, nearly having to physically restrain himself from placing a kiss to your delicate skin. “you did so good” he hums, beginning to clean the spilling blood.

“thank you” you smile at him as he finishes up, letting you know you can redress and beginning to clean his station. as you pull your bra back up and grab for your shirt, the room begins to spin. you squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, a small smile gracing your lips as you become slightly loopy. “um… can i lay down for a minute?” you giggle softly.

“yeah of course!” he smiles as he turns to look at you. “are you lightheaded?” he asks, walking over to his mini fridge. when you only hum and nod in response, he hands you a capri sun and a pack of scooby-doo fruit snacks. “here… sugar will help” he tells you. he sits in his chair as you pop open the capri sun, now done cleaning. “eat the fruit snacks. all that sugar will help.” he tells you softly when he notices you only drinking the juice.

you nod lazily, squinting your eyes open as you make a small rip in the package. “yanno usually i’m paid to see my tits, not the other way around… and you didn’t even compliment them” you sigh, your head still spinning a bit as you smile lazily. you bite back a giggle when you imagine the blush that you definitely know is coating his cheeks.

his only response is a chuckle, and you think that’s the end of it until you’re checking out and paying him—now ready to actually stand straight and be able to drive your car. as you hand him the money, he gives you a care package, a cute sticker, aftercare instructions, ointment and alcohol wipes, a lollipop, and a blank card with his name and number. “text me a picture when you have the gauze off so i can make sure they look alright… maybe then i’ll compliment them” he winks slyly.

suddenly, you’re the one blushing as you walk out to your car.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡

[follow my library blog and turn on notifications to be notified when i post a new fic!]

[royal-ruin]

f1 fanfic recs (part __) max / charles

other f1 fic rec lists here f1 fic rec masterlist here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

i feel obligated to note that i don't read very much lestappen unfortunately so this list won't be very long or very thorough. i know another creator on tumblr @ jennarations published a very long one somewhat recently (?).

do i have to chart the constellations in his eyes? by adoreddaisies (~1k)

[He was tired. Charles was oh-so-tired. All he really wanted to just take a nap. Before he could close his eyes, he felt strangely familiar fingers tugging at his helmet strap. He opened his eyes – he didn't realise he had closed them – and found blue eyes staring back at him.

Max.]

The rest is still unwritten by Snooks10 (~1k)

[Max ran, like his husbands life depended on it.

Weaving his way around the paddock, murmurs of a black flag and unresponsive boring through the crowds. All he could do was get to Charles.]

OR Charles is in surgery and Max is terrified.

I couldn't do it without you by freed0m98 (~4k)

The one where Max and Charles have been married for two years now, and everyone finds out when Charles has an accident.

it was the end of a decade, but the start of an age by charlotte_2005 (~6k)

[The video is four minutes and eighteen seconds long. Max remembers exactly how it goes: the images were seared onto his memory long before he had to deal with each frame being ‘conclusively analysed’ by idiots on the internet.]

Max and Charles are outed in the worst way possible.

*Viva la Miami by Fabby (~8k)

Max raced all over the world and was used to different climates. But there was something about Miami’s sticky, muggy, make-your-phone-screen-fog-up kind of scorching heat that made him feel fucking crazy.

It made him want to strip naked and jump in the bright blue water surrounding his hotel.

It made him want to fuck.

OR: Max and Charles hook up for the first time, and it's very different than what Max had pictured.

basically pure smut, enjoy.

Deserving by WeaglesAndBrobeans (~16k)

Together for two years now, can Charles and Max weather the 2021 season together?

Azerbaijan Abnegation by ProngsfootxJily (~17k)

[Charles stares at him intently, “Last time was an anomaly.”

Not for the first time, Max recalls the awkward swell of humiliation after Charles had told him to stop. The hairs on the back of his neck prickle at the memory of everything that followed, “Yeah, that better not happen again.”]

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement.

They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room…

Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

i'm not gonna lie, i don't remember reading this one at all, but it was in my bookmarks so i hope i knew what i was doing.

*every other sunday by Anney (~34k)

[The grainy pictures are pieced together like a crude comic strip, sketching a poorly thought-out narrative arc that somehow made it onto the front page of every sleazy newspaper. 

EXPOSED!: The secret gay double-life of F1 driver Max Verstappen]

Max navigates the aftermath of being outed in the press, and Charles is always there.

*I'll Be Right Beside You by Fabby (~50k)

[Max stared at Charles’ closed eyes and how they twitched in his sleep. Objectively, Max knew that Charles was probably the most beautiful man he had ever seen. But... this was Charles.

Charles Leclerc. 

Big, cry-baby Charles. 

Sauber #2 driver Charles. 

When did he decide that Charles The Driver would become Charles The Boyfriend? 

He wishes he could remember. ]

OR: The self-indulgent Amnesia AU that nobody asked for. This is my love story to Charles Leclerc, thank you for coming along. Warning: this fic may break you.

*If I Could Call You Half Mine by amarynas (~64k)

[Pierre Gasly, 29, and Charles Leclerc, 27, have announced their engagement this morning in a heartfelt Instagram post.  Gasly stated he couldn’t be happier and can’t wait to spend his future with the love of his life by his side.  Leclerc, who is currently the defending champion for his team Red Bull Racing and on a good path to win his third championship title in this 2025 season, said that he is blessed to get to marry his best friend.  The two Formula 1 drivers were the second couple to ever openly come out and disclose their relationship to the public three years ago, after already dating in secret for two years. This had happened just six months after fellow F1 drivers Max Verstappen, 27, and Daniel Ricciardo, 36, had openly disclosed their relationship. Now the public can’t help but wonder: When will those two lovebirds announce their engagement?]

Max and Charles found a place to fit their affair into their lives, where it sits comfortably between secret hotel room meetups and not-so accidental touches in the paddock. But everything changes when Pierre asks Charles to marry him, and Charles says yes.

warning: lestappen have an affair and are cheating on pierre and daniel respectively. i love this fic even though i don't love the cheating. i had a ton of mixed feelings while reading this and i actually loved that. highly recommend reading it. can't listen to "moth to a flame" the same anymore.

[snowviolettwhite]

Spent today working on the mood-board for my upcoming 9-1-1 Alternative Universe Fan-Fiction Set In 2011. Making moodboard and doing interested boards help inspire me and get ideas flowing. So I want to share it. Look how adorable teenage Buck, Eddie and Shannon are. They look so young, little cutie pies.

It will be called "don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up." It is from Harry Style's Matilda.

Below is what I have written so far, it is still in the works. You can also check out my 9-1-1: Lone Star Fan-Fiction.

---

Set in the early 2010s with barely eighteen and barely out of high school Buck and Eddie running away from home to California and joining the fire academy and eventually joining the 118. Eddie would bring baby Christopher with him. Eddie's parent did not think he was mature and adult enough to take care of Chris as a 20-something year old, so is would be even worse for teenagers, people who are transiting from childhood/teenage-hood to young adulthood and still being treated like kids.

---

It is June of 2011. The schools wide across the nation are all out for summer vacation from Hershey, Pennsylvania to El Paso, Texas.

Evan Buckley is the blonde, blue eye rascal who is always getting hurt and in trouble. He is the baby of the family but the only person who has ever paid attention to him is his big sister Maddie.

Edmundo Diaz is the young teen dad who got his best friend and girlfriend pregnant. He is the middle child and was the sane one compared to sisters until now.

They say if you want to be treated like an adult act like an adult. How are supposed to act like an adult at eighteen years old, haven’t been out of high school even a month, being dragged home by the cops and being scolded at the front door or being yelled in your childhood bedroom. Sometimes this makes you want to run away.     

----

It is June of 2011.

The city of El Paso, Texas school district has let for summer break and held graduation for this year’s high school seniors, they are no longer twelfth graders.

They are adults or as much as one can feel like an adult at eighteen years old, and silently sobbing in your childhood bedroom, hugging your worn-out stuffed animal dog with your back pressed against the door, trying not to wake your napping infant son who in his crib as your mother is yelling at you.

“Edmundo Diaz, you are in so much trouble young man. Open this door right now! You live under in my house. You live by my rules and aren’t too old to be put over my knees. Just wait until your father gets home. I can’t do deal with you.”

Edmundo Diaz or Eddie as he prefers being called was a good catholic boy. He never misbehaved or caused trouble but a little too soft, that was until Shannon showed up. They met in the eighth grade. They became best friends and were inseparable until they lose touch but found their way back to each other. She introduced herself being all sweet and friendly. She was sunshine. His family hated Shannon. They said she was a bad influence on him and he started acting different after meeting her. She was his first kiss, his first girlfriend, this first time. Good catholic boys wait until marriage, she is his first and only.

Shannon will back soon, she is visiting colleges in California. When she comes back they will make a plan for themselves and for their beautiful baby boy, Christopher. For now, he has been having never ending fights with his parents. It is about how stupid he was getting a girl pregnant while still in high school and a teenager or how he needs to toughen up or grow up. It is kind of hard to grow up when nobody goes around hiring eighteen-year-old and your parents are still treating you like a child.

“Edmundo, how could you let this happen? You and Shannon are still kids. You are barely able to take care of yourselves. How are you supposed to take care of a baby?”

---

Inspired By This Photo:

[feastonkings]

adam brody / he/him  ———  no way is that ELIAS ACKERMAN.. they’re a 39-year-old HUMAN notoriously known for being PESSIMISTIC  & UNEASY but there are some people who have seen them being MATURE  &  PATIENT.  if you ask me, they remind me a lot of falling asleep fully clothed from exhaustion, grasping the day in white knuckles, a drum set collecting cobwebs, never spending money on himself, and vintage t-shirts, but that could just be because they’re considered the TRAGIC DROPOUT around town. just keep an eye on them  &  see if their true colors shine through..

GENERAL.

full name: elias moon ackerman nicknames: eli classification: human gender / pronouns: cis man, he/him age / birthday: 39, december 15th orientations: heterosexual, aromantic occupation: owner of in shambles & soldier for skyport mafia location: lower district status: on and off again with arizona navarro family: devan ackerman (sibling), yiska ackerman (sibling), esme ackerman (daughter) strengths: mature, patient, calm, responsible, protective weaknesses: pessimistic, uneasy, forgetful, flaky, exhausted character inspo: tbd

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: death, teen pregnancy

born the oldest of three, to parents who thought they wanted kids but in the end they would’ve been better off with a couple pets. still, they tried and once yiska and devan came along, elias did his best to help out when he could.

almost immediately he was obsessed with music, fell in love with rock-n-roll first then expanded from there. he got his first drum set when he was nine from a yard sale and began teaching himself how to use it.

instruments began piling up after that, while drums were his first love, he began teaching himself the guitar, keyboard, and anything else he could get his hands on.

it kept him out of trouble when he had something to focus on but, on the other hand, he hated being at home and found himself trying to avoid the place when he could

that ended up getting him mixed up with the wrong people at times and the best ones at other times. he had a mixed group of friends but they ended up being a salvation, even if trouble ensued

it also led him to meeting arizona, who he fell for right from the start. and continued to be a staple in his life, regardless if they were together or not.

well into the age of sixteen their parents disappeared, later they would find out they died but they never got much in ways of a funeral for them by the time they found out. this was also probably why it was easier to dodge social services

instead of getting put into the system, elias decided to drop out of school and get a job to take care of his younger siblings. unfortunately minimum wage jobs don't pay the bills and feed three people, so he ended up working for the skyport mafia

when he turned eighteen he petitioned the courts for guardianship of his siblings and won. then to add to an already full load, arizona came to him with the news that she was pregnant.

esme being born was one of the happiest days of his life and while he wasn't always the best when it came to commitment or knowing what he was doing, he always tried to be the best dad he could be and make sure she didn't need for anything

while his dreams of having a band and being a rock star were squashed long before he became an adult, he was able to take over the ownership of in shambles and still keep music a constant in his life.

he is still a soldier in the mafia, it wasn't like he could get out if he wanted to, but he tries his best to do the bare minimum and fade to the background. he can't avoid the bar being used for laundering but he's managed to keep out of the eyes of the law

HEADCANONS.

when elias needs to blow off some steam, he can usually be found in his garage drumming or on stage before opening at in shambles.

he is constantly exhausted and has gotten in the habit of falling asleep in random places, either napping or not making it all the way up to his bed, sometimes mid-conversation

more to come....

[rhymingtree]

I'm so sorry this took so long 😭😭 but I've decided to procrastinate on all my other responsibilities and now here I am 🙃

Ollie flashbacks are starting to drive me insane. Can't spend too long in a psychopath's brain without being driven into insanity yourself

Also I have so many snacks rn so I'm wondering if I'll be crying with a mouthful of sandwich later on in the course of the chapter

Setbacks that included an entire sect of weapons dealers being picked off one by one.

Courtesy of Ghost, our dear Lady Disdain herself.

How Gonzalez saw everything before it happened and planned for it; he could only be blindsided if (F/N) was in harm’s way. How (F/N) would jump into a fight without a second thought and she wasn’t used to losing.

He could literally be blindsided so easily if you plan it right

but also fuck yeah Danny. Green flag guy.

The fact that Daniel Gonzalez is a fictional man hurts me to my core every day.

“Your mission?” “Исправляем свою ошибку.”

I know the Soldier was probably told to say that, but I can hear Bucky's signature sass. Like him saying 'you fucked up and now I have to clean up your messes. You are so fucking annoying. Redheaded asshole.'

Ok my bias showed back there but still

Zac and Belov were practically slumped over a pair of computers that looked as though they were at least two decades old.

They're working on their Excel spreadsheets

Shadows danced in your peripheral, their ghostly voices whispered in your ear. They begged and pleaded and screamed for mercy. Their faces stretched into horrified cries. Their bodies marred and mangled by fire and riddled with oozing bullet wounds.

How the hell can anyone find their way back to being sane after all this...

“You slept for over eighteen hours,” he said, pulling back with a low scoff, “How the hell did you manage to wake up cranky?” “I’m talented.”

Me to myself after one week of classes.

But no honestly how am I so drained after just ONE week back it makes no sense

How is she springing into work mode so quickly SHE ALMOST DIED FUCKIN' TAKE A BREAK

GIRL DONT YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED TO HAMILTON WHEN HE DIDNT TAKE A BREAK

INFIDELITYYY

YOU DON'T SAY NO

well

she already didn't say no to Novak...

Ghost is genuinely insane. You know how I know?

She refused to take the nap offer

what kind of person says no to a nap??? In this economy??? Take the damn nap

— “Danny?” you cried, your lungs closing in on themselves as you struggled to breathe, “Mi amor? I’m scared. Stay with me, please?” —

Darke I'm gonna fuckin kill you

WHY DO I ALWAYS FALL INTO THESE WITHOUT ANTICIPATING THE FUCKING FLASHBACKS

this'll be the death of me

— He smiled softly, pulling you against him and resting his chin on your head, “I love you.” —

DARKE

Had he misread Walsh from the beginning? Had they been marked for death from the moment he walked aboard their plane?

So many what-ifs of what their lives would be had it not been for Walsh

What if there were more of him? What if more Hydra agents were littered among Aftermath’s ranks?

And background checks would be practically useless, because if Walsh had fooled them, anyone could

demon-green... jesus these descriptions are fuckin awesome

Also I don't think reading about people with these kinds of stress levels are helping me with my stress levels

I am double stressed. No triple. No... just a very alarming amount of stressed.

“I’ve seen her worse. I’ve seen her better.”

That is now code for: she literally almost died but is still refusing to take naps like a petulant toddler.

He was never going to see his friend again.

I'm going to die in a puddle of my own tears by the end of this aren't I

my poor sandwich is gonna be so salty if I use tears as condiments

I keep forgetting that Wraith's reveal was still so recent timeline wise... god reading all this all over again is gonna hurt once it's all completed

Which reminds me I've been thinking about it and I genuinely thought this fic would be finished by the time I graduated my senior year of high school

I'm in my senior year and it's not even close.

I might get a master's degree and still be typing out live reactions to new chapters while procrastinating a thesis.

Sounds like fun, can't wait for it.

“I do. She tried to kill Dugan. Cavanaugh hit her over the head with a chair. I damn near pissed myself. It was great.”

Oh, the good old days

 A small smile twitched to the corners of her lips as she looked down at him with the same sparkling eyes he fell in love with all those years ago.

Fuck you they're so fucking sweet I'm gonna cry

“Damn you,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap. Imara set her chin atop his head, holding him close as the smile on his face fell.

I need fanart of this. I will pay with my internal organs to be able to put this image on my wall as a poster.

OOOOH A CONTAINMENT UNIT

OOOOOOOOOOH THE PLOTLINE THICKENS TO AN IMPOSSIBLE LEVEL

HOW MUCH THICKER COULD THIS FUCKING GET

I'm trying to remember where Peter is right now without checking the last chapter

great gods above, another stressed out plotline to wind down my stressed soul

sooner or later I'll be needing a pacemaker

PETER WITH A GRAND ENTRANCE

Zac is no longer Big Brother. Zac is now Guy in Chair

“Good.” He nodded, turning from him slowly before adding, “You don’t get to leave the city ever again.”

Cut to Peter a few years after this, wreaking havoc in fucking LONDON with Mysterio HAHSHAHA

oh, poor Ghost and poor, poor Jack...

Hell, maybe they’d take over the mansion in Medellín and run the safehouse there.

So romantic... so ambitious... what if someone blew that up too

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack said, glancing down at the kid with a wink, “I can handle Ghost.”

Yeah, you say that now

“That didn’t sound like a ‘no’ to me.”

Gotta admire how stubborn the kid is anyhow

But he’d be damned if he didn’t find her again.

There are tears

On the bun

of my fucking sandwich

😭😭😭 Zac's got beef with the fifteen year old now too

oh no

fuck it he's here now too... oh shiiit oh SHIIIIT

Reading this is doing serious damage to my life expectance. This amount of tension is taking a decade off me at most

JACK WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

JACK BENNET-DUGAN WHAT ARE YOU DOING

“Have we met before?” the man asked, his head cocking to the side. “Yeah,” Jack growled, “I enjoyed breaking your face in Medellín.” Wraith paused, seemingly taken aback for a moment before Jack’s words sunk in. “Copycat,” he hummed, “Come to finish the job?” “With pleasure.”

See I knwo this is supposed to be thrilling

but mostly my heart is just lurching out of my ribcage

��You shoulda kept the mask. I can see fear in your eyes. Panic,” Wraith paused with a chuckle, the sound twisted and wicked, “I like it.”

Oh wow... didn't know he was into that sorta thing but I guess it isn't surprising 😏

Right. Left. Uppercut. Kick.

It's almost as if those moves are in their blood. In her blood.

WHY'D HE BRING A GUN TO A WEAPONS DEAL TURNED AMBUSH

STRESSED

ON THE VERGE OF CARDIAC ARREST

SANDWICH ABANDONED

goddamn fuckin Peter and Jack angst

I did not sign up for this

My Little Soldier Girl —

I'm about to throw a tearsoaked sandwich to the wall in a fit of unbridled rage

ew she slept 18 hours without taking her contacts off

how likely is it for a near-death supersoldier to get eye infection

not that that's at the top of her priority list but still

Maybe it was Danny’s guiding hand making sure they were safe.

Now I'm genuinely curious about these guys' spirituality

The only confirmed person with a belief system is Boone who's pagan. As far as I know Ghost and most of Alpha One and Two are agnostic atheists, but with that I feel like she still has a spiritual belief system that centers mostly on Danny's everlasting presence in her life

I don't know how much this'll affect her post-Westview though. It's gonna be a lot more tough for her after that

“Jack is blowing up city blocks. Just like (F/N).” “Must be a super soldier thing,” Zac muttered, not daring to turn toward you as you leveled a glare at him.

Well, it runs in the blood

You were going to have to send Ollie a message.

Cool what's his email address

Or would you rather go for Jack the Ripper-esque letters written in blood with someone's severed ear in the envelope?

MELINA AND NATASHAAAA MY TWO BEST GIRLS

😀 WELL THIS IS GOING WELL

“So, Walsh knows you’re moving them for him?” This stopped Melina in her tracks. She frowned, glancing up at her in confusion, “Who?” “Walsh,” she repeated herself, watching as the woman’s face never changed, “Ghost.”

SO VERY WELL

YELENA ALMOST SLIPPED

god I am stressed

Where the hell is that sandwich

Captain Lady oh mygoooooood Yelenaaaa

“You? Pft. No. He is the stupid archer and you’re my sister. You’re the coolest.”

nice save babes.

OH MY WHAT

(F/N).

THE WAY I ALMOST BOUNCED OFF THE FUCKING WALL

GOD IT MUST BE SO FUCKING TENSE HOW SCARED HE MUST BE

Ghostie's probably lying through her teeth

she probably hates tea

but I love tea so now Ghost does too 😀

I think I just shat my heart out with genuine shock at that reveal

I love how May didn't question the almost ghoulish looking woman coming to talk about the ✨internship✨

like even i would slam the door in her face if I saw her. She's scary. May's got some balls.

I was holding my breath the entire fucking time

Maybe, if Wraith knew who he was, it was high time he figured out who Wraith was.

Well it's high time I scream at someone to put the pieces together again. This'll be fun.

I love it when all of Alpha Two gangs up on ghost and starts scolding her like she's a child and they knew she broke something in the living room

With so much shit going on in the East Coast with Wraith and Ghost and all that, I find myself almost grateful to be so far away from the US

but then again far away also means the fucking philippines so we'll keep it at almost grateful

“Funny,” he said with a deadpan, “We don’t usually leave fingerprints.”

No you just leave a fuck ton of collateral damage, which is leagues away from little smudgy fingerprints, you fuckin' psychopath

EVERYONE IS STRESSED OUT WOOHOOO THIS IS FUN

Peter is the highlight of the chapter, of course. He almost always is. I'm so curious how the homecoming fight will play out.. and how his relationship with Ghost and Jack will go in the next movies of his storyline. The banter is fun. The angst hurts. I'm all in for it.

Now I need to finish that goddamn sandwich.

CHAPTER 97: GENESIS OF A FIRESTORM

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

Every other memory had come so clearly. When he pulled the trigger in Odessa and Inessa. When he trained soldiers and Widows in Siberia.

He could remember the cold in the chamber. The frost bursting and burning through his veins in the darkness.

But there was also heat.

Heat and sand and sun.

It was numbed heat and a blurred face and whispers of a voice that cracked and rasped.

He knew her once.

She knew him too.

They’d made him forget her.

It was too dangerous to remember.

So they made him forget.

They erased her.

But he’d be damned if he didn’t find her again.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

CHAPTER 97: GENESIS OF A FIRESTORM

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

☞ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ: Oʀɪɢɪɴs

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

TAGLIST BELOW

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[colossal-red]

The Mark

Chapter One: Tomorrow

Ayup mates, little note here, this new AU is very inspired by a YouTuber by the name of Ian Boggs who I’d highly recommend to check out. If you’re curious about any aspects of this au I implore you to spam my ask box as much as you’d like, I’ll happily answer :)

Anyways enjoy the fic! The warning are below :D

Tw: slight vore mention(?), mysterious disappearances, and fear.

WC: 1140

Tubbo woke up with a stretch. He was so Fucking ready for tomorrow! He got up and quickly got ready for school, he was so happy that his Birthday was on a Friday, and he was excited to get his mark. Sure everyone got the Prey mark all the time, but it was still exciting! He exited the house, and waved goodbye to his mom as he started the walk to school, he looked around to see if he could spot his best friend, but he seemed to be nowhere around... suspicious. It didn't take long for him to enter the school, as soon as he did so though, Tommy jumped out in front of him from behind a corner, making a booing sound. "Gah-!" He flinched. "Don't fucking scare me like that man-" He swatted the laughing Tommy as they headed toward their first class of the day... this was gonna be a long day...

After a few classes, he sat down in his last class for the day, History. "Woooo, finally almost done-" He spoke, leaning back in his chair, to Tommy who sat behind him. "What do you think is gonna be on the shitty lesson plan for toda-?" He was cut off. "Language Mr. Schlatt." Came Mr. Halo's voice as he entered the room, his wings curled inward as he got to his desk. "Settle down all of you muffins, now, today's lesson is gonna be on the founding of Essempi..." Mr. Halo droned on and on about Essempi and seemingly everything that happened ever... until the last few minutes of class. "Now, before I dismiss all of you, we're gonna have a brief lesson on the Marks, as I believe we have two muf- I mean, students, who are turning Eighteen tomorrow, correct Mr. Schlatt and Mr. Minecraft?" Tubbo and Tommy both nodded, confirming his question. "Alright then, as you all know, in the entire history of the world, there have been two Marks-" "The Mark of The Prey and The Mark of the Pred, right D- I mean, sir?" Came Sapfucks voice from the back, dude got an unfair advantage honestly. "That is correct Mr. Sapnap, however, there hasn't been a Pred marked in many many years... people doubt they even exist now as everyone who's turned eighteen since then has always been Prey." He turned to face the class again, after having drawn the marks for Pred and Prey on the board.

The Prey Mark resembled bunny ears, while The Pred Mark was depicted as being a set of fox ears. "Even so, it's important that we all know how to defend ourselves properly in the off-chance that someone DOES get the Pred Mark-" He quickly added- "But of course, the chances of anybody getting the Pred Mark is very low of course. Who can tell me some abilities of Preds?" A few hands went up, not Tubbo's tho, he couldn't remember. "Yes Mr. Found?" Of course, the teacher would pick someone whose hand wasn't up. To be fair though, George was passed the fuck out. Tubbo suppressed a chuckle with Tommy. "Oh, er, what was the question again-?" Tommy snickered again as Mr. Halo sighed. "Could you tell me some things about the Preds' abilities Mr. Found? Then you can get back to your muffiny nap-" He said with a polite smile, eventually George would gather his thoughts and blab on a bit more about how they could 'size-shift' and 'smell emotions' and a few other random things that just weren't relevant anymore. Tubbo groaned as this ensued, lightly doodling on his desk before finally... the bell rang.

"Thank Prime..." He heard Tommy mutter as they gathered their things to leave. "Where too Boss Man-?" He asked Tom as they walked the halls of rapidly departing students. "Hmmm, ahhhhh, I just want it to be tomorrow already man!" he pouts a bit as they walk. “Don’t worry Tom, tomorrow isn’t that much farther away, everything will go just fine.” He reassured, they eventually just got some dinner and headed home so they could get started on some homework… and sleep a bit earlier to speed up the process. Tubbo yawned as he worked at his desk, the hours seem to go by so slowly yet so fast at the same time as he trudged through assignment after assignment. He was so glad when he could collapse onto his bed, and finally began to fall asleep…

Meanwhile, Tommy had sped-run his assignments… and was sneaking out of his Dad’s house again, which wasn’t exactly difficult. Ever since Techno had gone missing a few years ago, Phil hadn’t really been the same, which sucked a lot. Tommy wandered through the woods, knowing exactly where he was going. It didn’t take long before he reached his destination, a small box fort, a training dummy, and two wooden swords lay abandoned amongst the grass and twigs. He sighed as he reached down and picked up one that was marked with a big T, only glancing at the one with the lil T. “Miss you Techno…” He rubbed some of the dirt off and placed it back down where it was, before picking up the other sword and turning to the dummy.

After a Prime knows how long amount of time of slashing at the dummy, Tommy rested at the entrance to the box fort that vaguely resembled a castle, just looking about the space as he remembered the old times, he closed his eyes…

“C’mon Tommy I know you can do it-!” Came Techno’s voice from the tree above. “Techno! Just give it the fuck back!” Tommy shouted as he tried to climb up the tree, just barely missing the handhelds. “I will, if you can make it up here, how will you ever be able to escape a Pred if you can’t throw yourself up a tree like I can-?” He spoke, dangling the lil T sword above Tommy’s head from a branch. “You’ve just gotta find the proper foot and handholds.” He encouraged. Tommy took a step back, and inspected the tree again, before trying again. This time, he was able to get up. He grabbed at the handhelds that he could, and though he did stumble once or twice, he was able to get high enough to touch the tip of his sword… before promptly falling. But Techno’s hand caught him, and pulled him up and away from the fall. “Hey, you did pretty good Theseus.” He spoke with a smile as he handed Tommy his sword back. Tommy accepted it with a semi/embarrassed look at having to be rescued, but the two laughed it off and eventually headed home…

Tommy opened his eyes. Fuck, he’d fallen asleep… at least he had a good dream. He stood up and ran back home as fast as he could, going back through his window and looking at himself in his bedroom mirror… today was the day. It was his birthday which meant that… he pulled his sleeve back, and looked at his right arm. On the arm, clear as day, we’re two bunny ears. He smiled, Phew… he had to admit, despite the fact that he knew that it would not be fox ones, it still kinda spooked him. He stretched, and got ready for school quickly. He was excited to see Bee Boy so that they could laugh about how nervous he was…

Tubbo woke up groggy. Hm, something smelt sweet, he wondered if his mom had actually made something. He got up, and looked at himself in the bedroom mirror. He messed with his hair a little bit before leaving it the way it had been. Then, he suddenly remembered, The Mark! He excitedly held his arm up, and pulled back the sleeve. His face did a few different things as he looked at the reflection… it switched from Excitement, to Confusion, to Shock, and then finally, to a combination of Fear and Nervousness. He quickly grabbed a marker off his desk and held it to the Fox Ears that were on his arm, almost glinting in the sunlight as if to say: “Look at me!” He quickly scribbled over the mark a bit, making the Fox Ears look like the Bunny ones that signified Prey. T-this couldn’t be… he couldn’t be a Pred!

Suddenly, another scent came into the air, another sweet one… from outside. A knock came at the door, and he heard Tommy shout. “Open up Bee Boy, we’ve gotta get to school! Happy Birthday by the way!” Oh shit… he exited his room, and went to open the door…

———————————————————————

[lgwifey]

HOME TIME

bestfriend!gene gallagher x fem!reader

Summary : After a heptic trip to the police station and an eventful night in general, all Y/n Y/l/n wants to do is find her cushion covered bed and take a nap.

Warning : throwing up ? , underaged drinking

MASTERLIST

2019

The walls seemed to moved themselves closer and closer, slowly shrinking the plastic blue painted box into a panic worthy size.

Y/n rushed from the cold, metal bench that fell from the concrete wall to the solid metal, dark blue paint chipping door. She let out a blood curdleing scream, the sound echoing through the miniscule gap at the bottom of the door and around the reception of the police station.

In the freezing cold room holding the reception desk, Gene stood awkwardly with a burley man checking him for substances, already having thrown his half empty cig packet onto the laminated top of the circular desk.

The blonde bobbed woman behind the computer swung her head around in the direction of the holding cells, a look of panic covering her face as a group of male and female officers ran to the second holding cell.

"She's claustrophobic."

Gene hadn't spoken since the group of four had been brought inside the deadly auraed building. Almost as soon as he'd said it, a decently loud 'oof' was heard from inside the cell, causing him to jolt in the direction of the arched doorway. Naturally, he was bungeed back into the spot by the officer next to him.

"S'all right lad, your girlfriend ain't in any trouble."

"Not my girlfriend."

The eighteen year old pratically growled at the taller and stronger man.

Soon y/n was brought kicking and screaming back into the reception. Her face was tear streaked, mouth parted and wailing. Two muscular woman carried her on either arm whilst she pulled herself down, forcing all her weight to the floor.

The three boys who where being patted down watched the younger girl launch herself backwards, a male officer running to the scene and stopping her from knocking herself out in the floor.

"Listen, you're only making this harder for yourself."

"Right so what are all the charges ?"

The woman behind the desk spoke up again, her essex accent filling the room. The man holding Sonny listing off offences that the group where being charged with.

"Right so,"

He pointed his eyes to Noah as if to tell him to state his name.

"Noah, Noah Ponte."

"He's charged with attempted shoplifting."

Noah went to interfere, telling his side of the story of how he was innocent, only to get cut off by the man who was at least six foot three.

"And these two,"

"Gene Gallagher"

"Sonny Starkey"

"Are charged with assault."

After tapping on the keyboard, the blonde woman nodded her head in the direction of the intoxicated girl being held down, face first against the floor, by a women officer.

"And her ?"

"Underaged drinking and now resisting arrest."

The group turned to face the screaming girl, who had suddenly stopped screaming.

They saw her eyes closed and mouth drooped open. The woman holding her, now floppy, arm against her back lunged the girl up into a sitting position so they could all see her face.

Without warning of any kind, vile, yellow, acidic sick covered the officer's uniform and pooled on the floor. Y/n's y/e/c shaded eyes shot open and almost instantly drooped half shut again, vicious coughs overtaking her mouth's vomiting and her torso folding over itself. Tears watered her eyes again as she gagged, shaking as the aftermath of being sick over took her sences. After the dramatic episode which had gained everyone's attention, the seventeen year old gave a sniff and started crying.

"I wanna go home."

The group where eventually saved by a exhaused man entering the police's door at 00:34 in the morning.

"I ain't fuckin' thirty anymore Gene lad. Can't survive off of three hours sleep."

Liam gave a pointed look to his son, who was half asleep, resting his head on Y/n's shoulder whilst she sat upright which a metal bucket filled a quarter way up with sick.

"Right, what's the problem."

He hit his hands against the desk, tilting his head as the model his son was lent on started making a splashing sound. Gene slowly patted her thigh that his hand was rested on.

Y/n stumbled down the cobbled street the station was built on, Liam's car being parked with Debbie in down the street.

"A fuckin' punch up. Gene you go out and you fuckin' punch a tesco employee."

Sonny had had to be picked up by his mum, being seventeen as well, and seeing how Noah lived down the road from him he'd gone with them. Which left y/n and Gene with a very angry Liam.

"Liam I wanna go-"

Y/n interupted the singer's shouting before doubleing over and hurling up the crackers the receptionist at the police station had given her to eat. Apparently she'd been unintentionally peer pressured by her older male friends to drink, according to the lady. In reality,

"Y/n, how much did you actually drink ?"

Gene had situated the girl to the brick wall a side to them so she didn't throw up on her shoes on in the middle of the pavement.

The y/h/c girl popped her head up, now being manouvered to the back of the car with a concerned look from Debbie from the driver's seat.

"Urm well I only actually bought one strongbow, which i had with my chips, completely legal."

"Y/n, you blew 102, you clear have had more than just one strongbow."

Liam gave her a look of disbelief. It was a good thing they hadn't started driving because Debbie lurch backwards in shock.

"102 !"

"I may have finished off a few of the lads drinks."

"a few ?"

"five. I finished off five of the lads drinks... and two jagerbombs. But I only bought one !"

The inside of the car was pratically silent when they started driving back to Liam's, seeing how y/n's parents locked the doors after 11:30 and if she wasn't home by then, tough luck.

"Can I go to sleep now ?"

The girl gave an incidental yawn, Gene pulling her over to rest on his shoulder whilst answering softly,

"Yeah, i'll carry you in later. Just don't throw up again."

She had a tendancy to throw up whilst she was asleep if she was drunk, but by now with the amounts she'd brought up, Gene was suprised she hadn't sobered herself up, maybe it was mainly tiredness.

"Thanks, thanks Liam."

"Don't mention it kid."

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

[melancholyshadow]

it’s complicated || p. parker

summary: peter parker’s son attends a wonderful daycare, a daycare ran by (y/n). 

pairing: peter parker x reader 

warning: none! :) peter is aged up to his early twenties, no one knows peter is spider-man, tony is gone in this series.

an: a new series! whoop whoop! so excited! and thanks to @loveaffaire for helping me decide between giving peter a son or a daughter!!

The room was painted a neutral baby yellow, walls decorated with rainbows, superheroes, flowers, and planets. The floor in the main room was accessorized with one of those large foam alphabet mats. There were five toddler sized tables scattered all over the large room. At one time they had been white, but now they were covered in crayon, markers, and food stains. Colorful storage containers lined the back wall, filled to the brim with toys of all kinds. 

It was usually filled with about ten to twelve screaming toddlers, but not right now, not this early. The clock read a quarter past six, and you had about forty-five minutes to set up for the day with your small friends. It was a Tuesday, which you had dubbed ‘Craft Tuesday,’ where the toddlers spent the day making their parents or guardians crafts. 

Gathering supplies and printing out worksheets didn’t take very long as you only selected two crafts for today. The schedule for this Tuesday was quite simple. They would spend the whole morning continuing to learn how to write their names, followed by lunchtime. After lunch, they would enjoy some recess time, take a nap, and then finally begin their crafts. 

Most of the kids were usually dropped off around eight o’clock, you had a few early birds that got dropped off between seven, when you opened, and seven-thirty. Your co-workers came in closer to eight, since that’s when most of the kids got there. So you had time to yourself in the morning, after prepping everything for the kids, which you enjoyed with coffee and your breakfast. 

That had been your morning routine for the past four years, but you worked here for an additional four years. You had attended this exact daycare when you were younger, until you aged out at six. But the owner was a family friend. So at fourteen, she ‘hired’ you. You came in after school and helped out with the kids, for community service hours. She even helped you get the proper qualifications needed to work at her daycare. 

At eighteen, at her daycare the minimum hiring age was eighteen, she offered you an official job. Since you were done with high school, and now had a ton of free time, you obviously accepted. That was four years ago, and now you were the lead worker. Even though you were the youngest one there. You had always wanted to work with kids, even as a kid yourself. In fact, last summer, you graduated college with a degree in early childhood education. You wanted to do this for the rest of your life. Eventually opening your own daycare center, but that wasn’t in the books for another decade or so. 

After practically inhaling your breakfast, you heard the first knock ring through the building at exactly seven o’clock. “Good morning, Ms. Graham.” You greeted her with a smile, closing the door behind her as she entered, keeping out the chilly morning air. “And good morning to you Reilly!” You crouched down, so you were eye level with the small girl, “Can I give you a good morning hug?” You never handled the kids without asking for their permission or without warning. 

Her small head nodded up and down, tiny arms wrapping around your neck, squeezing you. Securely, you wrapped your arms around her small abdomen, bringing her up with you to your standing height. She rested on your hip, while you talked to her mother who signed in her daughter. Writing down her name, her daughter's name, and the time. “Say bye to mommy!” You waved towards Reilly’s mother, the small girl copying your movements. The older woman blew her child a kiss before walking back out the building. “Why don’t you hang up your coat, Ri?” 

The stream of parent and child duos slowly picked up as the clock ticked closer to eight o’clock. You greeted them all similarly to the way you greeted Reilly and her mom, some opting for high-fives and special handshakes instead of hugs. A couple minutes after eight, the main room was stuffed with nine toddlers. There was a cacophony of sounds filling the room this morning. Small feet running across the foam mat, giggles caused by peek-a-boos, funny sentence formations, and the occasional frustrated cry.  

Two of your coworkers had made it in at around seven-forty-five, and they were supervising the toddlers while they played. You were sitting at the receptionist desk, waiting for a few additional minutes for any late arrivals. As you stood to go join the others in the main room, the door opened, two familiar faces popping in. “Miss (Y/N)!” The smaller one exclaimed, running right for you. You scooped him up, pulling him close to your chest. “Good morning, Ant-Man!” You heard him giggle in your ear. 

Anthony was a five-year-old boy, and a spitting image of his father. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin. You turned towards Anthony’s dad and greeted him, “Good morning, Mr. Parker.” You smiled at him, and his lips upturned, you could tell he was tired. His hair was disheveled, but pushed back. He wore a black undershirt with a blue monochromatic flannel and a pair of black jeans. “How’re you this morning?” You asked the older man, setting down the small child and telling him to hang his coat up in his cubby. “Exhausted, as always.” His laugh was small, and you chuckled back in a similar manner. 

“Well, nap time is at one o’ clock, I can set out an extra sleeping pad if needed.” You joked, nervously twiddling your thumbs. “I might take you up on that offer, (Y/N).” His laugh was stronger this time.  “Hey, it’s eight-fifteen, we should start soon.” Jamie, one of your coworkers, said from behind you, out of habit, you glanced down at your watch, confirming the time. “Of course.” You said turning towards her with a nod. “That’s my cue, have a good day, Mr. Parker. We’ll see you later.” You gave him a small wave and turned on your heels, walking towards the main room. 

The morning half of the day went well, all the kids made a name book. The name book had their name written on the front, and on the following pages, they wrote each letter of their name on its own page, and next to it they drew an object they started with that same letter. That took most of the morning, as some of the kids had longer names, but the kids with the shorter names spent the morning playing with toys in the main room once they were done. 

Lunch went by without a hitch, since the daycare required the parents to provide the kids lunch. This was easier so you weren’t dealing with picky eaters or allergies. Recess was always good, except for a couple boo-boos. You purposefully held nap time after recess because the toddlers would usually tire themselves out and knockout as soon as their head hit the mat. 

After the quiet giggles and murmurs ceased, and all the kids were either sleeping or acting as such, you took a seat in one of the small plastic toddler chairs. During this time most of the adults cleaned up any mess, ate their own lunch, read a book, scrolled through their phones, or chatted off in a corner somewhere. Today you decided to read a book, you had been stuck on this book for about a month now, never having the time to read it. 

There was some shuffling beside you, another small chair placed to your left, Jamie taking a seat. “Whatcha reading?” She asked in a whisper, there was a child sleeping only five feet from you. “Some mystery novel I found at an old book store.” You flashed her the cover, she read the title. “So how’s your DILF crush going?” Her blunt-nature made your eyes go wide, and you gasped a little louder than intended. The small boy shifted on his mat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You adjusted your facade, playing dumb. “Anthony’s dad? Mr. Parker.” She nudged you with her elbow. All you said was “You’re delusional.” Before glancing back towards your book. 

Craft time was always the most fun part of the day, even if it did get a little messy. They got to use crayons, glue stickers, markers, colored pencils, and sometimes washable paint. “Aren’t you gonna sign them, Anthony?” You asked him, crouching to sit on your knees beside his table. “I did!” He insisted, pointing at four small letters on the corner of his page. The name he signed was ‘Tony’ instead of ‘Anthony.’ He didn’t usually sign things this way, this wasn’t a nickname you had heard him be referred to before. 

“Who’s Tony?” You asked softly, as he picked up a crayon to start coloring his next craft. “Daddy said that’s who I’m named after.” He explained, his tongue poking out in concentration. “Was he your grandpa?” You asked him. It took him a few minutes to respond, “Mhmm, my grandpa was Iron Man.” This wasn’t the craziest thing you had ever heard, but it caught you off guard. “Oh really, is that true?” He nodded his head frantically at your question. 

Anthony always had an affinity with superheroes, hence your nickname for him, Ant-Man, it sounded like a superhero name. His favorite was overwhelmingly Spider-man. That’s how the two of you first bonded, Spider-man was also your favorite superhero. “Well, that’s very interesting.” You said, obviously thinking it was a fib. Finally you stood, ruffling his hair. His small hand came to rest on yours as you pulled away, “But it’s a secret.” He whispered. You brought your hand up to the corner of your mouth, pretending to lock it with a key. 

Glancing down at your watch and it was approaching five o’ clock, the rush of parents would start soon. In order to retrieve their children, unless they were the ones who brought them in that morning, they had to provide identification and needed to be on the check-out list. They had to then write their names, the child’s name, and the time they checked out. Some parents were there exactly at five, and others didn’t get there until almost seven, when you closed. Anthony was always one of the last kids to get picked up, Mr. Parker always seemed to work pretty late. He was the only parent you didn’t know a lot about. 

You always stayed later than the rest of your coworkers, this job was literally your whole life. Anthony and you were the only ones still in the building, the two of you playing superheroes. Both of you were wearing capes and running around the main room, fighting a fake villain. Between his loud giggles and your fake fighting noises, you hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

Someone behind you cleared their throat, making you jump. As you snapped your head in the direction of the noise, you heard Anthony cheer, “Daddy!” His tiny feet ran towards his dad, who was leaning against the receptionist desk. Mr. Parker picked the small boy up, placing him on his hip. “Hey, Spider-Dude! Are you having fun with Miss (Y/N)?” He asked the small boy, glancing at you with a smile. You could feel your face warmup, as you undid the velcro piece of the cape around your neck. 

He nodded furiously, as his father did the same and took off the cape. “Sorry for being late, work is crazy, as always.” He apologizes, grabbing the small jacket and bag out of Anthony’s cubby. “Don’t worry, I love hanging out with my Ant-Man.” You insisted, offering to take the cape from the older Parker. As you returned the capes to their proper hooks Anthony spoke again,”Look what I made today!” His tiny hands pointed towards one of the small tables where his artwork sat. 

His father grabbed the two pieces of paper and he smiled at the messily colored superhero. “Look I signed it.” His index finger pointed to the four-lettered name in the corner. “Tony, huh?” Mr. Parker asked with a smile. “I told Miss (Y/N), about grandpa.” His voice was hushed like he was telling a secret, but you could clearly hear him. “You did? Did she believe you?” He asked his son, but you felt as if he was actually asking you. 

The small boy nodded furiously, brown eyes staring directly into his father’s similar ones. “Wait, are you actually a Stark?” You were genuinely shocked. Was Parker his mother’s maiden name? You had never heard about Peter Stark, only Morgan Stark. “It’s complicated.” Peter said, shaking his head. “It’s an incredibly long story.” He chuckled at the thought of it. 

“Well, maybe I’ll get to hear it sometime.”

[arvinsescape]

Could you write a Peter imagine where he just suddenly becomes needy?

And it's because he thought they were going to leave him, or something like that, but he doesn't tell them.

And the reader goes and talks to Tony about it, and tony notices too. (This is a avenger!reader)

And Peter listens to the convo, and he explains to the reader why he is acting this way?

You are literally so awesome and I love your work. It would make my week if you would write this for me <3

A/N: Hi lovely! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you enjoy my work! I loved this request and I hope you enjoy!! Sorry for the late reply and thank you for your patience 💕

Warnings: Mentions of sex.

Peter had been incredibly needy over the last few days, more so than usual. You couldn't put your finger on it, he was usually incredibly affectionate but it felt like there was something behind this. An insecurity maybe? You were trying to figure it out as you ran your hands through his curls.

He'd fallen asleep on your chest, insisting that he needed a nap with you. Usually he was happy enough just cuddled up with you but this time he was literally on top of you. Not that you were complaining, you did it to him all the time, it was just a little out of character for him.

You ran your hands through his curls as you thought about what might be bothering him. Coming up with nothing you decided to speak to Tony, maybe he'd know, they spoke a lot, you knew Peter confided in him often.

You waited until the next day, you'd had to go on a mission and once you got back you decided to seek out the billionaire and see if he could provide some answers.

Peter was wondering where you were, he knew you were due back anytime now and he wanted to cuddle you as you talked about your mission with Wanda. It was actually Wanda he bumped into first.

"Hey where's-"

"She went to talk to Tony." Wanda interrupted.

"You know it's not comforting that you can read my mind." Peter huffed slightly and Wanda smiled.

"I didn't." Wanda teased and Peter smiled shyly as he made his way towards Tony's office. He stopped when he heard his name come from your lips.

"I just don't know Tony, he's been needy." He heard your voice say and his heart dropped, did you think he was clingy?

"The kids always needy." Tony laughed and you huffed.

"No, he's more needy than usual, I think something's wrong." He heard your concerned voice. "Has he said anything to you?"

"No. But you should just talk to him, he's a good kid who loves you a lot you know."

"I know and I love him too, I just wonder if there's something wrong. Something I've missed. Tony I'm worried about him." Peter heard the concern in your voice and realised that he needed to come clean, of course you'd realised something was wrong, you knew him like the back of your hand as he did you.

"Look, Y/N/N, you should just talk to him." Tony said and Peter disappeared when he heard you agreeing and thanking him for his help, not wanting to get caught. He made his way to your shared room at the compound, waiting patiently for your arrival.

He watched as you entered the room, tired expression on your features, a clear indication that it'd been a draining mission and you just wanted to sleep.

"Hey." You said as you approached, taking his face into your hands as you kissed him and he happily returned the gesture. "I'm just gonna head for a quick shower." You said as you made your way into the bathroom.

Peter sat on the edge of the bed, crossed legged, thinking about what had been eating away at him for so long. You'd been together for four years, since you were eighteen and you'd never experienced anyone else, never been with another man before and it worried Peter.

He worried that one day you'd want to try other things, different people and he worried you were going to break up with him. Leave him. He wondered if you ever felt that curiosity of what another man would be like, how they'd differ from Peter, so as a result he'd grown frightened you'd call it quits.

Peter watched as your ever beautiful figure made its way back into the room, his heart aching at the sight of you. He wasn't sure what it was, why he thought the way he did, you'd given him no indication, maybe it was something Ned had said, that's when it'd started at least.

"How long have you guys been together now?" Ned asked.

"Almost four years." Peter said easily, he didn't want to admit he could tell Ned the exact amount of days.

"And you're the only guy she's ever been with?" He asked and Peter nodded. "But she's not the only girl you've ever been with?" Ned asked.

"Ned, I was twenty when I met her, no, you know that." Peter laughed.

"Just curious, do you ever compare her?" Ned asked, it was all curiosity, nothing behind it.

"No, never." Peter said almost immediately, it was true he'd never compared you to his exes.

"Do you ever think she's curious?" Ned asked and Peter furrowed his brows.

"How'd you mean?"

"I mean, and don't take this the wrong way, but do you think she's ever thought about what it'd be like to, you know, be with other men? Just curiosity, something to compare." Ned shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay, I'm done talking about this."

It had eaten away at him for weeks. He felt your hands in his back as you plopped down next to him.

"You okay?" You almost whispered, voice soft, it wasn't until he felt the tear hit his lap that he even realised he was crying.

"I love you, you know that?" Peter said, voice cracking and your towel clad body instantly engulfed him in a hug, slightly damp skin leaving wet patches on his shirt.

"I know you do. Peter, what's wrong?" You asked softly into his ear as he sniffled and wiped his nose.

"I don't want you to leave me." Peter admitted softly.

"I'm not going to. Pete, baby, where is this coming from?" You asked him.

"Do you ever get curious? You know about other men?" He asked and you pulled back to look at him, confused expression on your face.

"No." You answered and he could tell it was honest. Your voice held too much emotion for it not to have been honest, you sounded shocked, like what he was insinuating was ridiculous.

"Pete," you sighed. "I get why you might be thinking about that. But honestly? I don't wonder about what it would be like to be with anyone else, I love you, it's you that makes me happy." You said, with a small smile.

"But what if there are better people, you know, sexually?" He asked with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He felt as you moved yourself to straddle him, legs locked firmly around his waist as his hands moved to your waist.

"Baby, trust me, from what I've heard over the years from my friends, there's no way that's a possibility. Baby, you put me first, you make me feel like no one else exists in this world and I couldn't ask for more. Peter, please don't ever think I'd leave you thinking there's a better alternative for me, I don't." You said and his insecurities lessened slightly.

"I love you so much." Peter said as he stuffed his head into your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

"I love you too, now how about we take a nap?" You said softly. Peter grinned at you before removing your towel, taking his shirt off and placing it over your head. He moved you both to the top of the bed, the pair of you settling comfortably together, cuddling.

"I love you more than anything in this world." Peter mumbled out and he felt you squeeze him tighter.

"I love you more than anything, I can't think of another man more perfect for me."

[shokobuns]

“see”

in which you warm up to your stepdad while your mom’s not home.

prequel to feel.

pairing: stepdad!sukuna ryomen x reader

genre: smut, taboo

word count: 1.4k 

warnings: smut, parental stepcest, mutual masturbation (f/m), taboo, daddy kink, scenes (sex, overstim, size kink), slight mommy issues (only if you squint tho)

“behave while i’m gone, i gotta get something at the store.” she says sternly.

you nod, putting the last of your plates on the rack before turning on the dishwasher. “is sukuna coming with you?”

“no,” she replies, scrolling through her phone before slipping it in her purse, “he’s taking a nap right now. you better leave him alone.”

“i will.”

“alright. i’m not planning on leaving him any time soon. you need to warm up to him somehow, darling.”

after you hear the click that signified she was out, you groan exasperatedly.

sukuna.

he’s the only thing your mom had paid all her attention to these past few months. you want to be happy for her, you really do, but it almost feels impossible and you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. you don’t know what it is about the man. the cocky expression on his face that never falters, his tanned skin clad in tattoos, his piercing gaze that always radiates an aura dominance, it all made you feel uneasy.

of course, your mom would notice. it wasn’t uncommon for you to keep your interactions with him short and limited despite the fact he had been living with you for months. it wasn’t uncommon for you to retire to your room once he came home from work. and for your mom, it was all translated to one thing; you simply just did not like him. at all.

if only it was that simple.

you truly wish it was that simple because you’ve been repulsed by people before. hell, you’ve disliked tons of people and still continue to do so. you know the uneasiness that hits you whenever you’re near them. you know how hard your teeth clench, how your chest burns, how your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of their voice.

but that wasn’t it. this uneasiness came with fast heartbeats, fluttering feelings in your stomach, and flushed cheeks. this uneasiness came with the inability to form sentences, unconscious stares, and invaded thoughts. this uneasiness came with imagination, slight jealousy, and damp underwear.

so, no. it wasn’t that simple and it would never ever be that simple. you don’t know who you should feel sorry for. maybe your mother. your dear, flawed mother who decided that you needed a father figure after eighteen years of its absence. maybe sukuna, who probably was just looking for a wife or some fun, not a family. maybe yourself, your own clouded mind betraying you with sinful lust.

nonetheless, here you are.

here you are, chores done, bedroom door wide open, pulling your shorts down and throwing them off somewhere on your bed. he’s in the master bedroom right across from yours in the hallway, sleeping soundly. you can just barely make out the little snores leaving his mouth which is enough just for you.

you can’t help but admire him while he’s in this peaceful state. he’s handsome with structured cheeks, black ink that adorns most of his skin, and big hands that can completely cover yours in his fist with ease.

your panties are damp, sticking to your wet cunt. they become more and more ruined the more you think about him and you sigh. it happens every time. it starts with a thought, some kind of seed that sows in your head, and your mind elevates it until the thought progresses to something dirty, something shameful, something that is so wrong.

you should be happy for your mom.

it all goes out the window when you think about the large hand that steadies your waist every time you almost fall, one with a tight grip that brings back that fluttering feeling in your stomach. more black ink that compliments the veins running through them and silver rings that decorate his fingers. you’re sure, positive, that they’re thicker than your own, able to reach deeper than you ever could by yourself.

your hand travels down to your clit, rubbing slow circles on the small bud as you sigh in relief at finally being able to touch yourself after weeks. you travel lower, your finger prodding at your hot core before slipping in until you’re knuckles deep. starting off with slow strokes, you build everything up until you’re ready for another finger. you squeeze your eyes shut, an image in your mind forming as it always does when you’re in this state.

and it’s sukuna.

it’s sukuna and his fingers that would fill you up nicely, stretching your hole to the point where the line of pain and pleasure is difficult to decipher. and he’s looking at you with that piercing gaze again, the one that demands control and submission. he’s pumping his fingers at a painstakingly slow pace and so are you. when you imagine him hitting that sweet spot, you curl your fingers.

your shirt is pulled up above your breasts, one hand massaging your tit as you get lost in your own pleasure. it all feels so good, the knot in your lower tummy forming and tensing while your pussy drools all over your sheets. you’re letting out involuntary squeaks, your senses being overcome by the impending wave of bliss.

a groan from the other room interrupts the scene in your head.

the sound causes you to freeze, eyes suddenly widening as you turn in its direction. there’s a smirk plastered on sukuna’s face as his eyes follow your figure intently. from what you can make out, it’s possible that he’s been awake for a while now. your heart pounds out of your chest, body shaking from the amount of guilt and embarrassment. does he know you were thinking about him? can he sense the lewd scene you’ve put together to get off?

a million thoughts race through your mind, but the most prominent one is louder than the rest; why was he looking at you like that?

he folds over the blanket, revealing an intimidating imprint that pokes through his boxers, all the while staring straight at you. your cunt still stuffed with your own sopping fingers and you take it as a silent demand to keep going.

you obey, something that any good girl would do.

“come on, princess,” he calls out from his room, his cock springing up to his stomach as he pulls down his underwear and it’s better than anything you’ve imagined. the pink tip drips with precum and like his fingers, he’s thick and long. he spits in his hand and you gawk at the sight, saliva spilling at the side of your parted lips and he returns with his usual cocky expression.

three fingers thrust into you, knuckles deep, while he pumps his pretty cock in his fist, eyes following your every aspect of your current position. you pinch your nipple, letting out a small mewl, while attacking the spongy spot that never fails to have you squirting all over your sheets.

but you wish it was his thick cock filling you up instead.

you know that if you ever got the chance to have him stuffing you full, it would ruin the sensation of your fingers. you know that your little digits would never be able to compensate for something that huge. and seeing him fuck his fist makes your walls convulse because you know that this isn’t one sided. any crumb of guilt that was there before is wiped from your mind.

the only thing you can think about is his cock splitting your little cunny in half, pounding into your cervix while you struggle to take his full length. he wouldn’t be gentle, you know that, but you’d prefer it that way. he would pin your knees to your chest, caging your body with his arms, balls slapping against the skin of your plush ass. he’d hit every spot that you couldn’t, driving into you ruthlessly. and it wouldn’t end there because he would want to ruin you. he’d want you cumming over and over again on his cock until you’re a ruined, babbling mess begging for him to stop.

“oh- oh fuck, daddy!” you breathe out between moans, feeling wet liquid coat your thighs as your walls clamp down on your fingers. he’s almost there with you, streams of sticky white spilling onto his stomach at the sound of your sweet voice. your back arches of the bed as you cream all over your fingers, panting exhaustedly while bringing them up to your mouth, sucking softly. he’s practically staring holes through your body, his cock twitching once again.

but your mom can be back anytime with the groceries. and he really needs to clean those sheets.

[teknicianwrites]

"You make a fool of death with your beauty" for mhanders 😌😌😌

I've been writing this one on and off every couple weeks since I got it. Have some pre-Handers, with Jonah, the Red Hawke who should have been Blue. @dadrunkwriting

.

.

.

Jonah was a healer.

He had always been a healer, as long as he could remember having magic.

Before that, even.

Carver had been a colicky baby, and their mother had been so overwhelmed with two infants she'd seem to age years before his eyes, desperately trying to settle Bethany back to sleep when Carver's wailing would wake her from a nap. Jonah was small, but the twins were smaller, and one day he asked if he could help.

He still remembered sitting on the porch in the late summer sun, holding the tiny screaming bundle in his arms.

"Hey, little brother. Why are you so sad?" Carding his fingers through the dark tuft of silky hair, like Mother did for him when he had nightmares. Shifting his grip to try and rock him. Frowning. "Your tummy hurts, huh?"

Running his hand in gentle circles along Carver's belly, until the sobs became sniffles became the even breaths of sleep. How Mother could never seem to replicate the same trick, and calming Carver became his job. How Mother commented that Jonah had the touch over dinner a week later, and Jonah beamed, and Father… frowned.

How Father asked to see, and the next time Carver cried Jonah showed him, and Father kept frowning.

Father telling him he was a mage, and he could never help anyone outside the family, and he could never help the family where anyone else could see, because the templars would take him if he did, and would kill their family if they tried to help him.

Asking why they would do that, when the Chanters always said magic was for helping. Being told the Chantry lies about mages, and that was just the way it was.

Carver asleep in his arms. Thinking of all the other babies he wasn't allowed to help without risking this one, or the one cooing in the next room.

Jonah was a healer, and he had spent eighteen years suppressing it, hiding it, watching people get hurt or fall sick or die because it wasn't safe to save them.

Anders was…

A marvel.

His face was streaked with sweat and dirt, and his hair was falling loose and stringy, and his shirt was torn and his boots were falling apart. But his hands were clean, washed in the chipped bowl he conjured fresh water into, a dwindling sliver of soap next to it. He had a toddler on his hip, the little blond boy so comfortable there he might have been Anders' son, were Anders not treating the child's father with his free hand.

Jonah could almost feel Justice humming in Anders' magic, steady and purposeful as they worked together to reduce the off-season fever that had the man shivering in the summer heat. It reminded Jonah of the first time he'd seen him, determinedly pulling a frightening amount of phlegm from a child's lungs.

How he had turned, startled, and the first time Jonah heard him speak was with a staff in his hand and magic in his voice as the words on his lips declared himself a healer who refused to tolerate any threat to his work.

Jonah thought he was an idiot.

Jonah thought he was a marvel.

The patient on the cot gradually stopped trembling and finally sat up, taking his son back and nodding at Anders' soft instructions to return if his symptoms flared up again. The man gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, messere. What… what do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Just take care of this little guy." Anders ruffled the child's hair and grinned at him. "And you take care of your dad, ok? Make sure he comes to see me before it gets this bad next time."

Jonah stepped out of the way so the man could leave the clinic, and Anders looked him over when he turned to see him standing there. "I don't see any bleeding. Are you hurt, Hawke?"

"No, I, um." Jonah held out a basket. "I brought elfroot," he said, suddenly self-conscious about it. "There was a job in the mountains and I thought… as long as I was there."

Anders blinked. "Thank you," he said, taking the basket and opening it to examine the contents with a smile. "This will help a lot of people."

Jonah toyed with his bracelet, the familiar worn beads giving him something to do with his hands. "I'm glad."

He wasn't sure what to do with himself as Anders unpacked his gift. Anders didn't need his help, and the table he had to work with was too small to try without getting in the way. He glanced around the little clinic, noting more cots than before. He must have managed to salvage some from his last location. Jonah wondered angrily how long it would be before the templars sniffed out this one and forced Anders to flee and rebuild from nothing yet again.

"Healer!"

Both of them turned at the panicked cry, Anders rushing to the door while Jonah placed a defensive hand on his staff. A girl of perhaps fourteen nearly crashed into Anders as she reached the clinic. Jonah glanced behind her to see if she was being pursued, but no one was chasing her. Anders steadied her as she clutched at him.

"What happened?"

"Healer, help, please-"

"Are you hurt?" he asked as she desperately tugged on his coat.

"No, healer please, my family - please come-"

Anders grabbed his staff and strode out of the clinic as the frantic girl did her best to drag him along. Jonah followed, watching the shadows for signs of templars as Anders broke into a jog and kept his gaze on the girl. He was too trusting, Jonah thought, eyes darting into every dark tunnel for any glint of silver armor. She could just as easily be leading them to an ambush as an emergency.

It wasn't long before the sound of screaming led their way faster than the kid. Anders ran toward the sound, and Jonah ran after him.

Fuck. The scene they found was a mess. Someone had constructed assorted mining debris into makeshift housing inside a side tunnel, and the whole thing had collapsed. A few people were working to free whoever was trapped beneath the rubble, while more just stood around gawking.

Anders pulled a cloth from his pack and tied it over his face to protect it from whatever detritus had been kicked up by the collapse before hurrying to help. Jonah surveyed the crowd, looking for any signs that anyone was too interested in Anders, but everyone seemed either relieved or, at worst, indifferent to his presence. Reassured that this was likely just an accident, and not a plot to lure out the apostate who kept evading capture, Jonah wrapped a kerchief around his own face and joined the rescue effort.

Between the physical manpower and Anders shaping stone to hold back the heaviest pieces of fallen debris, a man was uncovered. He was pale and unconscious, which made sense, as his thigh was impaled with a shard of rusted metal.

Jonah helped Anders drag him away from the precariously balanced rubble, and Anders dropped to his knees by the man's side.

Jonah stood back to let him work. The people who'd helped them free the man didn't rush back to keep digging, so there must not have been anyone else trapped beneath the wreckage. The teenager who'd led them hovered anxiously over Anders, as did a woman - who must have been her mother, from the resemblance - holding a crying baby. The latter two were both covered in filth, and the woman looked bruised but ok. The baby was wailing, and it might have just been fear, but…

Against everything that had been trained into him, Jonah approached the woman.

"I can take her," he heard himself say gruffly. The woman looked startled and clutched the child closer, and it started crying harder. "If you want to hold his hand," he explained, nodding to the man gasping in pain as the pole was removed from his leg.

She hesitated, searching his eyes, then gratefully handed the child to him and dropped down to comfort the husband or lover who was gritting his teeth in pain.

Jonah held the screaming child, unsure what had come over him. He looked around again, but no one was paying him any mind. The crowd had started to disburse, and those left were focused on Anders as he began the work of knitting flesh back together.

Cautiously, Jonah looked the child over. She was maybe a year old. Nothing appeared broken, but lifting her shirt revealed swelling around her belly. Shit. Something must have fallen on her.

He glanced at Anders, but all his attention was focused on stemming the blood from the hole in the man's leg. It was delicate, time-consuming work, and Jonah wasn't sure if the baby could afford to wait if she was bleeding internally.

Her tiny hands were alternating between pushing against him, frightened of a stranger, and reaching for her mother. She was only a baby, but her struggling felt weak.

Fuck.

He scanned the crowd again. No one was watching him. No one knew she was hurt. She was too small to tell anyone.

Jonah adjusted the kerchief on his face, quickly reassuring himself his features were covered, and reached for Perseverance.

His spirit answered, strong and steady. Jonah extended his awareness into the little body in his arms. She was definitely bleeding… the liver. That was the source. Not as bad as he'd feared, but dangerous if untreated. It had to be painful.

Jonah and Perseverance directed the blood back where it belonged, mending flesh, healing bruises. He lost time in it, the careful reconstruction almost meditative as he and his spirit worked to find and fix what was broken.

When he opened his eyes, the child had gone still. A panicked pull on Perseverance assured him she was well, and it took a moment to realize she had fallen asleep. He adjusted his hold on her and she stirred, blinking up at him with tired brown eyes. She didn't start screaming again, so he gently rocked her, humming a Fereldan lullaby. She studied him a moment longer, then laid her head against his chest and drifted off again.

Jonah looked at Anders. He was still healing the man, though he had moved on to less serious injuries. The woman was stroking the man's hair as the girl who'd summoned them cleaned blood from her father's leg, and all of them were listening with attentive awe to Anders' quiet explanation of his magic.

No templars leapt from the shadows. No bystanders ran in fear from an apostate. No family was torn apart by death or holy fire. A healer was just healing, and people were just grateful for it.

Anders caught him staring and his expression went soft. He gave Jonah a small nod, looking between him and the baby on his hip, and Jonah saw knowing in his eyes.

Anders was a healer, and for the first time in years, with the warmth of a sleeping child in his arms, Jonah felt like one, too.

[snowviolettwhite]

Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by @actualalligator and tagged Several Sentence Sunday by @anewkindofme

This is from an coming 911 fanfiction idea I had. Set in the early 2010s with barely eighteen and barely out of high school Buck and Eddie running away from home to California and joining the fire academy and eventually joining the 118. Eddie would obviously bring baby Christopher with him. Eddie's parent did not think he was mature and adult enough to take care of Chris as a 20-something year old, so is would be even worse for teenagers, people who are transiting from childhood/teenage-hood to young adulthood and still being treated like kids.

-----

It is June of 2011.

The city of El Paso, Texas school district has let for summer break and held graduation for this year’s high school seniors, they are no longer twelfth graders.

They are adults or as much as one can feel like an adult at eighteen years old, and silently sobbing in your childhood bedroom, hugging your worn-out stuffed animal dog with your back pressed against the door, trying not to wake your napping infant son who in his crib as your mother is yelling at you.

“Edmundo Diaz, you are in so much trouble young man. Open this door right now! You live under in my house. You live by my rules and aren’t too old to be put over my knees. Just wait until your father gets home. I can’t do deal with you.”

Edmundo Diaz or Eddie as he prefers being called was a good catholic boy. He never misbehaved or caused trouble but a little too soft, that was until Shannon showed up. They met in the eighth grade. They became best friends and were inseparable until they lose touch but found their way back to each other. She introduced herself being all sweet and friendly. She was sunshine. His family hated Shannon. They said she was a bad influence on him and he started acting different after meeting her. She was his first kiss, his first girlfriend, this first time. Good catholic boys wait until marriage, she is his first and only.

Shannon will back soon, she is visiting colleges in California. When she comes back they will make a plan for themselves and for their beautiful baby boy, Christopher. For now, he has been having never ending fights with his parents. It is about how stupid he was getting a girl pregnant while still in high school and a teenager or how he needs to toughen up or grow up. It is kind of hard to grow up when nobody goes around hiring eighteen-year-old and your parents are still treating you like a child.

“Edmundo, how could you let this happen? You and Shannon are still kids. You are barely able to take care of yourselves. How are you supposed to take care of a baby?”

Tagging But No Pressure: @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad and @lochnesswriter

[thejudgingtrash]

Guess who still hasn't finished the outline of this tragedy and is still pumping out scenes for this 🥳 Don't ask when I'll upload this, it'll come up in like a century or so I have way too many ideas and projects on my mind and uni is literally about to start HELP 😭 and I've yet to update Oh. It's Them Again and The Fool and stuff 🥴

TW: Athena is a terrible mom, I guess.

*absolutely not proof-read and I'm tired af, gn

Annabeth opened the fridge and sighed. All sorts of pureed goods, some eggs, chicken pieces and cheese and oh, that milk should probably be discarded by now.

She heard the giggling and barking in the background and turned around for a second to make sure that everything was okay, and it was. Daedalus rested on the sofa and his tail swung back and forth, signalizing that he was relaxed and probably slowly drifting into the realm of naps.

Blackjack seemed to take babysitting duty very seriously and brought Baby Jackson the stuffed animals back that the toddler carelessly threw away. Annabeth only had to start panicking once the dog started to bark, her cat jumped up and ran towards her, or she actually heard her child cry. Nothing in that regard had happened in the past fifteen seconds.

Annabeth didn’t know why she this nervousness and angst still remained in her chest nearly eighteen months of having given birth, but fear was something that apparently stuck with parents forever. That is, when they actually seemed to love their child. Fuck, how and why didn’t her mother feel this unconditional love for her, the same bond Annabeth had with her little baby? Was it post-partum depression, was it something else? Annabeth didn’t know and she probably would never learn the truth about it.

She closed the case, sealed it off.

A slight pang dampened her mood and slowed her heartbeat. Cursed be her egg donor. She swore to discard everything that Athena Pallas, especially after her last deed she had done to her. She would never forget, nor forgive her mother for barging into her safe space, demanding to see the grandchild she had neglected to see for almost his entire life. Annabeth would never forget the cruelty and neglect she herself had felt for the past twenty-nine years of existence.

Annabeth closed the door of the fridge with a little bit too much force as her thoughts drifted off into the darker places of her mind.

Blackjack barked in surprise and her baby jumped up by the noise. He looked up to her, curiosity sparking in his light eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disrupt you from playing with Blackjack,” Annabeth apologized to the toddler and walked past the isle to pick him up.

Her son wabbly got up on his feet and then made huge steps towards her, a toothy grin on his lips as always. He let the fish-shaped plushy drop to the floor by doing so.

“Momma!” he said and then raised his arms, demanding to be picked up by Annabeth.

Annabeth pulled him into her arms with a huff. Why did toddlers weigh so much? They were small and already bad for her back. Then again, the alternative of seeing her son grow up too much was something she hoped to push aside as much as she could. He had already grown way too quickly; he had been a tiny baby more than a year ago and now he had been the little carbon copy of Percy, able to reach for keys on the coffee table and his mother’s smartphone. Alternatively, his father’s piping hot cup of coffee.

“We need new milk and food for Blackjack. Also new diapers for you, young man,” she booped his nose which made him screech with laughter, as he loved it whenever his father did it.

Percy had never stopped that habit after the birth of his child, no matter how ridiculous Annabeth thought it was.

Her toddler then curiously began to analyze the updo his mother wore and wanted to tuck some of the curls out of the bun. Annabeth, already knowing what he had in mind, gently pushed his arms aside and walked to the door with him as the bell luckily rang in that moment. It was probably Teriza, their housekeeper. She would be able to keep an eye out on the pets.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, okay?”

The toddler nodded and hugged his mother’s neck as she opened the door for their employee.

******

It took them only twenty minutes to park, which was a rarity in the city. Not only that, but her son didn’t make any fuss whilst getting buckled up by her. Now he sat in the baby seat of the cart and curiously followed his mother’s movements as she navigated through the enormous store.

“We should really start potty-training you soon,“ Annabeth sighed as she placed the diapers into the cart. Why were diapers so expensive? Companies were exploitative. How could less fortunate people afford to buy them, especially if not all babies got along with all sorts of brands? If Annabeth summed up how many packs of diapers she had bought the past year, she definitely would hit four digits.

And Percy was also still right when he failed to understand how such a tiny being could create literally Greek fire in their diapers which had to be discarded every few hours. Apart from the buying a hazmat suit part, Annabeth still had to talk him out of that. And from buying her one for Christmas. Kind of too late when potty-training was the next big thing on the agenda.

Her son loved going shopping. All the people that smiled at him, some even waved at him, and he waved back at them! There was a grandpa puling a face and making him laugh, there was a lady at the cheese stand giving his mother a bit of cheese for him to try and he liked it! His mother immediately bought a pack of it.

He also loved it whenever his mother got a new product into her hands and asked him what he thought about it. He preferred the ones that had interesting designs, such as the toilet paper which featured Peppa Pig. And he also liked canned tomato soup for a reason. Tomato soup was neat, so why not? The only rule his mother gave him was to not drop the product, which he never did as he was a big boy and big boys liked holding a small bundle of carrots in their hands! Even if said bundle was as large as his torso.

But then his mother pushed the cart into his favorite section of the entire store: the pet department. Accessories and toys, crates and mats, plastic plants, and raincoats for your furry friend and so much more! It was a delight, each and every single time.

Annabeth looked out for a new stand for Blackjack and Daedalus’ bowls as both animals also had gotten older, and she wanted to support their necks from straining too much. She kept looking to the right as something else caught her baby’s attention. He immediately took the bright orange soother out of his mouth and looked to his right.

“Mommy! Mommy!” he cried, alarming Annabeth and an elderly woman walking past them.

“What is wrong?” Annabeth asked concerned.

Her child pointed to the right where the fish section was.

“Mommy, look!” he cried again.

Realization dawned Annabeth. Her little one recognized the brand of fish food his father distributed and used for their own fish in the living room. Percy’s fish food brand Triton’s Delight was the second most expensive fish food of the store but featured the better-looking design as it was neither outdated nor cheesy. Her son stuck his tiny arm out trying to grab a package. His mother had unfortunately pushed the cart too far to her right for him to grab it himself.

Annabeth ran her fingers through the soft dark brown curls. “No, ducky, we don’t need any of fish food.” Her baby wasn’t listening.

Her toddler’s large sea-green eyes looked up to her. He had absolutely inherited the ability to summon the cute little pleading seal look of his father on the spot to get whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But Annabeth Chase stood firm. They already had enough fish food and Percy always got it for free.

“Bloop bloop,” he said as it was the thing his father always said whenever they fed the fish in the evenings together after he came back from work. It imitated the motions the fish did as they went on to swim back and forth trying to eat a small fish food pellet that fell like orange snowflakes in the water, creating an o-shape with their mouths whilst eating. Then the toddler began to pout.

“Your father brings fish food from work, we don’t need to buy anything from here,” Annabeth explained and then kissed his temple, but her son was a fighter and determined to get what he wanted. Just like his mother.

“Bloop bloop,” the toddler repeated as he was still reaching out. Why were his arms so short?! Why did his mother not understand that he wanted to feed the fish with his dada later? Life was so unfair.

“Yes ducky, bloop bloop,” Annabeth cooed. “You will feed Nemo and all the other fish later with dada, I promise.”

Her son didn’t care. He was dead set on a mission to get fish food and that was what he was getting! The toddler tried again reaching out for the small box, growing more agitated with each passing second. A soft whine escaped him, which would turn into a loud full-blown cry in the matter of more seconds. Then it happened.

Little Jackson felt how he was moving backwards. He opened his mouth and looked in surprise up to his mother who mindlessly had pushed the cart forward, away from the fish section. His mother kept staring at the rows of products ahead of her while doing so.

Annabeth had placed a stand into the cart. As she looked up, she saw that cat litter was on sale to hers and Daedalus’ luck.

“Look, ducky,” Annabeth grabbed two different packages of cat litter, the blue one that was on sale and the usual pink expensive brand they used.

“Which one should we buy?” she asked him to distract him from the fish food in the background. “The blue one or the pink one?”

“Daedalus!” laughed her son as he pointed at the black cat on the pink package which looked like their cat. The expensive one it was of course.

Annabeth sighed. What were almost three dollars more to appease her own child?

“Alright, you’re the boss,” Annabeth said as she placed the final product into the cart and kissed her giggling baby again.

Anyways... if you'd like to see more of this idea, here you go. Or if you want to read the gigantic 9k preview, go ahead. Alright, I'm off to bed, seriouslyyyy

[ask-feederjin]

Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><

Jin had just put the final revisions on a work project when a notification popped up on his computer.

“Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><”

Oh if only, Jin sighs softly. He wishes he could say that their youngest does, but that would be a lie. Either way, Anon needs an answer!

-

Oh, he wishes! Poor Jungkook has a ridiculously fast metabolism, much to his dismay. It was great for him when he was a gym rat, effortlessly maintaining his washboard abs. But now it is his ultimate curse.

We’ve been doing research on how to lower or, in Jungkook’s words, “completely ruin” his metabolism.

So far, we’ve chosen to have him switch to a completely sedentary activity level, bulk up on carbs, flip into “starvation mode” between stuffings and replacing that banana milk he likes to drink with soda. We also heard that lack of sleep can contribute to a drop in metabolism, but I vetoed that one. Jungkook may be willing to suffer sleep deprivation to get fatter, but that’s not something I’m willing to support.

On the topic of him getting tired… Hmm… I think it would only really happen if he was going out of his way to be active? Like, him just walking around or lifting basic things doesn’t phase him yet, but exercise on the other hand… Give me one second!

-

“Jungkook!” Jin called out.

“Yeah?” He heard back. It sounded like Jungkook had just woken up from a post breakfast nap.

“Could you come here please, baby?” Jin was now curious. How has his physicality changed in the past two months? Would he get out of breath easily? Or has his years of exercise and healthy eating still blocked that?

“Do I have to?” He whined. Jin felt butterflies in his stomach at just how lazy his boyfriend has gotten.

“Yes!” Jin laughed.

After what sounded like some shuffling and grunting, Jungkook sleepily wandered into Jin’s office.

“You never make me come to you…” The youngest complained halfheartedly, scratching his tummy.

“Forgive me just this once, your highness.” Jin snarked back. “I just wanted to… do a little test.”

Jungkook perked up the the word ‘test’. Jin knew he would never pass up an opportunity to prove himself.

“What do I need to do?” The younger man asked excitedly, watching as Jin pushed his rolling desk chair to the corner of the room.

“Well… first I’m going to need you to stand riiiight here. There, perfect!” Jin maneuvered the taller boy to stand right in front of his computer screen. “Wait just a second, babe.”

The screen suddenly changed from spreadsheets to a camera screen. Jin pressed record…

-

The video starts off in a well kept room. Orderly bookshelves line the background, tiny potted vines trailing down the fronts.

Pulling away from the screen, you catch a blurry glimpse of knobby knuckles and trimmed nails. Front and center stands a rather tall young man. He has short, shiny black hair and warm brown eyes. Said eyes are currently large with confusion.

The young man is wearing a rather ill-fitting set of pajamas. The bottoms fit well enough, but the top’s buttons are slightly strained. A soft looking paunch hangs out from the too small shirt, wobbling as the young man shifts uncertainly. He rests both hands on the mass, rubbing slowly.

“Okay, -ahem-.” You hear a man’s voice says off camera say. “Hello, everyone! This is the first video I’ll be uploading to the blog, yay! It was originally going to be the third month weigh in, but it seems I just couldn’t wait.”

The young man on screen chuckles a bit, relaxing at the lighthearted conversation.

The voice resumes speaking, “Either way! We’re here now! This is Jungkook, some of you might recognize his face from the profile section of the blog, but if you haven’t then here he is! Say hi, Kookie.”

Jungkook blushes, waving at the camera. “Hi guys… I’m uh, I’m Jungkook.”

…

“Oh! And I’m Jin!” The disembodied voice frantically shouts. Jungkook bursts into giggles. “I’m Jin! The owner of the blog! I’m also apparently an idiot.” Jin ducks his head into the camera, giving you an unattractive, sideways close up of his eyes and nose.

“Veryprofessional, Jin.” Jungkook grins teasingly.

Jin’s too-close head turns, presumably to glare at the focus of the video. “Yes, I am a professional thank you very much. Now take your shirt off, fatty.”

Jin walks to the side of the room again, giving you a nearly full view of Jungkook’s body. The young man blushes again, levity gone, and starts to unbutton his sleep shirt.

With each button undone, the fabric gratefully springs to the side. Soon the boy’s tan tummy lays bare, angry looking stretchmarks decorating the lower part of it.

Jungkook tosses his shirt off camera, breathing slowly and evenly. “Wh-what now?”

“Jiggle it.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, eyes closing slightly. He brings both large hands to his jello like gut and proceeds to bounce it up and down. For a minute of two, he shakes it briefly, only to let go and wait for the jiggly mass to settle. He stares at the camera, as if he’s watching himself in the feedback footage.

One hand slides up to cup his soft chest, while the other slaps gently at his belly entranced by the bounce.

“Now, turn to your side.” Jin’s voice startles Jungkook out of his self exploration. Jin himself walks towards the now sideways Jungkook, pressing up against his back. Jin reaches his arms around Jungkook to lift the younger man’s pot belly. He squeezes, pinches and lets it drop to watch it wobble.

“Tsk tsk tsk…” He pokes a long finger into the pliant flesh. “Someone’s let himself go it seems…”

“Ah~! I- I have!” Jungkook moans. “I’m soooo lazy, and- and greedy.”

“Lazy is right you little piggy.” Jin pulls away from playing with the taller boy’s belly button, walking back off screen. “Why don’t we give our viewer’s a little show? See how out of shape you’ve really gotten?”

Jungkook can only nod, face a bright red.

“Gimme fifty jumping jacks.”

“Fifty?! Jin! That’s too many!” Jungkook gapes at the man off screen.

“You used to do sets of eighty not even a year ago, I’m sure your fat ass can manage one set of fifty.”

“I’ll try I guess…” Jungkook doesn’t look optimistic. He gets in position anyway and starts counting out loud.

“One, two, three, four, five, six…”

The up and down movement vigorously shakes his little jelly belly, truly revealing just how much fat had accumulated there.

“Fifteen, sixteen, seh-seventeen, eight -hah hah- eighteen…” The poor boy’s face was tomato red and shiny with sudden sweat. His arms keep perfect time, but his legs move less far apart with each jump.

“Nine-hah-teen, twenty!” Jungkook is huffing now, tiny breasts quaking each time he lands. He is so out of breath now that he only mutters what vaguely sounds like numbers with each jumping jack.

“Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three…” Jin picks up where the out of breath young man left off. “Come on tubby, you were doing this in your sleep six months ago! What happened?”

Jungkook is gasping now, arms waving less with each jump, feet not even moving apart. A drop of sweat hangs precariously off of a perky nipple, only to fall onto his gut not even a second later.

“Are you seriously this out of shape?” Jin sounds genuinely surprised now, instead of teasing. Jungkook plops onto the floor panting. His previously neat hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, neck and chest pink from effort. “Kookie, you only did 31 jumping jacks.”

“I- gasp- I can’t…” The chubby boy leans back against the bookshelf. “I’m too fat…”

“Oh no. I’ll be the one to tell you when you’re too fat. Right now?” Jin squats down and smacks Jungkook’s sweaty belly, eliciting a moan from the boy. “You’re barely overweight.”

“I’ll get bigger! I promise!” The younger man pleads, having seemingly forgotten about the fact that he’s being recorded.

“Bigger? Eating like you are now? I don’t think so. You’re going to have to pick up the pace if you want to be the fattest boy in the house. Even Hobi will get bigger than you at this rate.” Jin gave Jungkook’s red, sweaty paunch one last wobbling pat before standing back up again. Jungkook stays on the ground, not even bothering to hide the bulge in his pajama pants.

“Okay guys!” The older man addresses the camera, winking. “It looks like Jungkook can still do thirty one jumping jacks before he gives up. You could say his stamina isn’t what it used to be! I’m gonna get this little piggy back to bed now. I think the poor thing’ll need another nap after so much exercise. Thank you for watching!”

Jin leans forward

The screen goes black.

-

I went ahead and attached a video instead of just writing down the answer ^-^;

I hope you don’t mind using headphones, haha! It got a little steamy there for a second… I should really get a video editing program so I can cut out those bits of me turning the camera on and off. Maybe even use my phone next time or something.

Oh well, lessons for later.

I hope that answers your question, Anon!